"Your Highness Beckett, how long do you think we'll be here?"
After exiting the fitting hall, led by Frigga's attendant, The Other tugged at the new armor, which was similar in style to his original, and asked Beckett, who was walking ahead of him.
Clad in a white robe, his golden hair flying.
"We're leaving soon."
Beckett, who had never worn a magic robe before, felt the silkiness of the white robe and was lost in thought.
"Woz, can you analyze the material?"
"Woz is analyzing..."
"Woz failed to analyze. I apologize, Your Highness Beckett. Woz cannot perform material analysis on the white robe you are wearing."
Woz, having transformed back into a light screen hanging on Beckett's right eye, searched through data for a long time but could not break through the magical defense layer of the white robe. The magical energy that formed this defense layer was not in Woz's database.
An energy attribute not in the database?
Beckett raised an eyebrow, then abandoned the thought that had suddenly appeared in his mind.
"If you could analyze it so easily, what right would my mother have to be called the First Mage of the Gods?"
Hela, who had been waiting outside the fitting hall after talking with Frigga, saw Beckett emerge in the white robe. After her initial astonishment, she pouted disdainfully.
She had still found something she was better at than Beckett: magic.
Although her magic cultivation results weren't anything special, she still felt a sense of superiority compared to Frigga's evaluation of Beckett. Even though, at present, she could only find superiority in the realm of "magic."
Completely unsuitable for learning magic; a magical circuit cannot form within the body. This was the assessment her mother, Queen of the Gods Frigga, had made of Beckett after meeting him.
"That's just your mother. What are you so proud of?"
Beckett didn't quite understand Hela's thinking. His mother's achievements weren't her achievements.
"...Let's go. Father is waiting for you in the royal palace."
Hela, wanting to say something but not knowing where to begin, opened her mouth, then finally managed to say something to lead the way.
Although she was very reluctant to admit it, whether it was in hand-to-hand combat or magical attacks, Beckett currently had the right to look down on her.
"No need. Just take me directly to the warship port," Beckett refused outright.
He didn't have any extra time to spend in Asgard right now. The coordinates Asgard had given him before its disappearance had not yet been officially confirmed.
"Warship port? Asgard doesn't need anything like that."
Hela raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, her arms crossed. Her words made Beckett couldn't help but cast his gaze towards her, his expression stern.
"Follow me. Father has something to tell you, about your return home." Although currently inferior in strength to Beckett, Hela's attitude hadn't changed much.
Glancing at Beckett's still brilliant golden hair, Hela turned and stepped out of the fitting hall first.
The bustling streets of Asgard were crowded with people. With victory reports frequently arriving from the front lines, every Asgardian wore a happy smile.
Carefree children either ran around shouting in the streets or stopped at snack stalls, biting their fingers and struggling with whether to spend their seven days' allowance to satisfy their cravings. Their vibrant smiles were a sight Beckett had never seen in the Dark Order.
"Big brother! Do you want to buy a flower?!"
"It's very fragrant and beautiful!"
Perhaps it was because Beckett's white robe and flying golden hair made him look exceptionally handsome, but even with his consistently stern expression, there were still bold little flower vendors who held up their bouquets and approached Beckett, grinning widely and brilliantly.
"Big brother, you can buy a bouquet for the pretty big sister next to you!"
"Big sister, am I right?!"
"I don't need flowers from this guy." Hela bent down, smiling as she ruffled the girl's innocent, flowing hair, paid, and took the flowers.
"Now, your mission is complete. You can go back and play with your friends."
"Thank you, big sister!" The girl, whose smile was full of excitement, thanked them sincerely. After also thanking Beckett, who had been standing by observing coldly, she happily ran home clutching the money.
"She doesn't recognize you?"
"I suppose so." Smelling the scent of Asgardian flowers, Hela's mood inexplicably improved. Her response to Beckett was also less harsh.
Protecting this kingdom and ensuring a better, broader future for the people of Asgard had always been Hela's goal.
"Of course, she'll recognize me in the future." Hela, holding the golden bouquet, was full of confidence.
She was still young and had plenty of time to achieve this grand goal with her father, Odin. She wanted to become someone whose name would be written in Asgard's history textbooks.
At that time, all of Asgard would remember her name, Hela.
"You seem much more normal now than before." Beckett glanced at Hela, then didn't linger. He stepped forward. To reach the palace Odin had specifically designated for receiving foreign guests, one had to pass through the plaza not far away.
The confidence on Hela's face gradually disappeared...
"Father once said that as long as I wish it, destiny will stand by my side!"
The voice emanating from the center of the plaza made Beckett pause. He turned, frowning, and followed the sound, his gaze falling upon a large stage.
A man clad in silver armor stood on the stage, expressionless, pointing a finger at the sky.
Beside him, a woman with makeup somewhat similar to Hela's was rolling her eyes.
And opposite him stood a man completely clad in a blue bodysuit, looking at the man and woman before him with a terrified expression.
"Laufey never dreamed that after years of fame, he would be defeated by two juniors today. The Casket of Ancient Winters, the treasure of the Frost Giant tribe, was stolen. Facing Hela, the daughter of Odin, and the stranger she rescued in Jotunheim, the king of the Frost Giant tribe found himself in a desperate struggle..."
A man sat with his legs spread wide at the edge of the stage, looking at a book titled "Hela's Journey to Jotunheim." A mature and steady narration began:
"In less time than it takes to say, when Laufey realized he was outmatched, his royal palace subordinates all jumped out, aiming their firearms at the man who loved to preface his sentences with 'My father once said.'"
"Facing the encirclement of a motley crew, the man named Beckett showed extreme disdain, uttering that widely circulated famous quote..."
In sync with the narration, the man on stage crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow in a disdainful expression: "I bet your guns are unloaded."
Below the stage, the audience erupted in cheers.
No matter how many times they watched it, the plays staged by the La Masia Theater based on this story were always well-received.
Seeing Laufey get flustered, even if it was virtual, was enough to make them cheer with delight. Moreover, according to Bard, the person in charge of the La Masia Theater, their scripts were personally reviewed by one of the involved parties—the daughter of Odin.
As for Beckett, he watched the man on stage, who was playing him and constantly saying 'My father once said,' and a murderous intent surged in his eyes.
Thanks to [Old Cat at Home] for the tip~
After hanging four bottles of IV fluid, it's been quite a while. I said I'd update around one, but it turned into a two o'clock update (_)
Seeking recommendations!
Also, I didn't cut myself on rebar because I wasn't watching where I was going. I cut myself on the exposed rebar because I was dodging a speeding motorcycle that illegally overtook me from behind.
Unfortunately, the motorcycle was too fast, and I'm nearsighted, so I couldn't see the license plate. I couldn't catch up either, so I couldn't stop him.
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Translation by: randomtranslator.com
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