Chapter 5

“That’s right. Beyond the realm of memory—beyond the Black Forest—if she just throws away her current memories, that’ll be enough.”

As Odin narrowed his eyes and laughed, his black hair swaying, Erda followed suit and laughed as well.

“Yes, indeed. As expected of Lord Odin. So then, when shall it be?”

“What shall be?”

“You intend to make Hildr yours, don’t you? I was asking when that day would come.”

Odin’s attempt to dodge the question with a wry smile was blatantly obvious.

“Fine, even right now if you want.”

He held his spear, Gungnir, in his right hand and whistled to summon his steed, Sleipnir.

“I’ll go snatch Hildr myself.”

Placing his foot in the stirrup and mounting the saddle, Odin cheerfully hummed a tune as he galloped through the skies.

“What a wicked man… I must admit, I’m impressed,”

Erda said with her arms crossed, thoroughly exasperated.

Disguising himself as an old man, Odin roamed the surface world under the name Alviss, and eventually, he found the pair he was targeting.

“Just as I calculated.”

Odin sneered.

Even the meeting of Hildr and Týr had been part of his scheme.

In short, Odin had anticipated they would inevitably fall in love.

No wonder he’s called the god of calamity, the wicked god…

“This is where the fun begins.”

With an even nastier grin, Odin approached Hildr when she was alone.

Týr had passed out from drink in the tavern and was dozing off.

“Excuse me, young lady. Are you alone?”

At the voice, Hildr turned around.

“No, someone else is with me.”

“I see, I see. Well then, my back’s been hurting something awful. Would you be kind enough to walk me home? It’s just behind that building.”

He pointed toward the roof of a church, trying to put her at ease.

“But… what about Týr?”

“It’s fine. It’s very close.”

Odin had correctly judged that Hildr couldn’t ignore someone in need. He was barely able to contain his glee.

“Hildr…”

By the time Týr woke from his drunken stupor, he finally realized Hildr was gone.

“Hildr. Damn it!”

But he’d had too much to drink. His legs were unsteady—he couldn’t even walk properly.

“Hildr—!”

He shouted her name loudly through the town streets, but his voice only echoed—no reply.

“I was right there… What the hell was I doing?!”

Týr was furious with himself.

He even stopped by the guild and searched desperately, but she was nowhere to be found. He groaned in despair.

“Damn it…”

Soon, it began to rain, and the light drizzle gradually soaked Týr to the bone.

The rain mixed with his tears until it was impossible to tell one from the other.

“Damn it, that bastard…”

This grief weighed heavier on Týr than even the loss of his right arm.

It was the heartbreak of losing his greatest treasure—Hildr.

“Hildr…”

Even as he was drenched by the pouring rain, Týr couldn’t stop crying.