"Me? Well, I'm... just a passing painter!"
Promise smiled as he responded to Hel, the goddess of death, who, despite being in Jörmungandr's "memory," seemed to have transcended time and space to directly gaze at him.
Although he was quiet surprised by Hel's awareness of him, but that was only for a moment before he quickly accepted it.
After all, in this world known as the "Type-Moon" universe, the whole face of gods were inherently special, whether it was from Greek Mythology, Norse, Egyption, Hinduism, they all wielded terrifying levels of authority.
And even though, she was not one of the twelve main gods of Norse mythology known as Æsir, Hel was a key figure in the future Ragnarok, one of the forces that would bring about the destruction of Asgard.
From all this things, it could be easily seen that her divine nature and authority were anything but ordinary.
After hearing Promise's answer, Hel, a being of both breathtaking beauty and terrifying dread, two contrasting elements fused into one— observed him in silence for a while.
"So, you're painting Jörmungandr?"
Hel spoke again, her voice a haunting blend of innocent melody and the low growl of a vengeful spirit.
"Yes," Promise nodded.
"What is your purpose?"
"Hmm... probably just to paint a picture?"
Promise tilted his head as he replied, earning nothing but Hel's cold, indifferent stare in return.
Seeing this, he couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
Despite the piercing gaze from the goddess of death, which felt as though it could drag his soul into an eternal abyss of darkness the very next moment, he remained completely unfazed and even sat down next to her with a smile.
After all, the underworld was like a second home to him. Being dragged down there wouldn't be such a big deal.
"I know what you are thinking. And yes, I'll admit, I do have the aura of Odin, the king of the gods on me. And I suppose... my relationship with him isn't too bad at the moment."
Although he had been tricked by Odin and forced into such a scripted role, but that didn't matter.
After all, the shadow of the Goddess of Wisdom was also involved in this matter, so Promise wasn't particularly resistant to it.
"But right now, I'm really just here to paint a picture of Jörmungandr."
"And not just him. Your brother, Fenrir, the wolf who devours the heavens and the earth, and even you..."
As he spoke, the young man turned his head, his clear emerald eyes, seemingly free of any impurities, gazing directly at the goddess of death. "I'm very interested in all of you!"
Their eyes met, and Hel, seeing the brightness in Promise's gaze, fell silent once more.
"Aren't you afraid of us?"
She asked again, in a calm voice, however, this time, the tone of her voice carried a hint of complexity, unlike the coldness and interrogation from before.
Because from the moment the three siblings were born, they had never felt a shred of kindness in this world.
Abandoned by their father, Loki, and feared by the gods for their immense power, which was labeled as evil, they were cast aside.
Fenrir, with his more pleasing appearance, was kept in Asgard, but Jörmungandr, who grew endlessly, was thrown into the bottomless sea, while Hel was sent to the freezing cold, lifeless realm of Helheim, where only eternal night and the dead accompanied her.
The two were never tormented day and night. However, even Fenrir, whom they thought would at least live comfortably in Asgard, did not meet a good end.
The god-killing wold was later betrayed by Tyr, the god of war he trusted, and bound by chains.
For this world and its gods, they held nothing but anger and hatred.
Hearing her words, just as Promise was about to answer, he noticed something in the memory.
At this moment, Jörmungandr, with its pale body exuding the venom feared by the gods, straightened its massive form, its eerie eyes locking onto him.
Fenrir, the God-Slaying Wolf, who was lying on his stomach stood up, looking at Promise with its fiery eyes.
And Hel, who had asked the question, revealed her true form once more, showing the rotting, grotesque half of her body that resembled a demon, to him.
Yet, even in the face of this, there was not trace of fear in Promise' eyes.
In fact, the moment they showed their forms, those emerald eyes sparkled with even greater excitement...
In a way, this only heightened his desire to paint them, stirring his artistic nerves even further...
So, his verbal response became unnecessary.
After all, at this moment, his eyes had already given his answer.
"...If you have the courage to come to Helheim, to stand before me..."
As she spoke, the decayed side of Hel vanished, and what remain was her white hair cascading like silk and crimson eyes glowing with an otherworldly allure.
Before Promise now stood a beauty that rivaled even the most renowned goddesses, no less stunning than the one hailed as the most beautiful of them all.
"Then I will grant you the honor of painting me."
After speaking these words softly,
Hel vanished from Promise's sight.
Not only did she disappear, but the sensation of "peering into everything" through his painting also faded with her as the boy snapped back to reality, finding himself once again by the edge of the bottomless abyss.
Under the dim light of the world, Promise, who was sitting on a high point near the abyss, had already put down his brush.
After all, his painting was mostly complete.
In the painting, an endless deep sea stretched out.
Within it, the colossal serpent raised its head, flicking its forked tongue, its crimson eyes gazing toward the highest point of Yggdrasil—the radiant realm of Asgard.
The serpent's massive body encircled the entire human world, perfectly capturing the terror and power of Jörmungandr.
As Promise came back to his senses and looked at the painting in front of him, he nodded slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his heart. 'As expected of me', he thought. 'No matter what I paint, it always turns out beautifully.'
To be honest, he was feeling quite pleased with himself.
Beside him, another figure was also nodding in satisfaction as he looked at the painting.
He even let out a cool, approving hum.
However, given his immense size, even a soft hum sounded like a thunderclap, causing Promise's ears to ring instantly.
Covering his ears, the young man instinctively turned his head to look—and there it was.
It turned out that Jörmungandr's massive head had somehow crept close to him without him noticing.
The two locked eyes, and for a moment, they even blinked at each other in unison...
And then, Promise instinctively scooted away a little.
However, as soon as he moved, he noticed a flicker of dissatisfaction in Jörmungandr's eyes.
"Uh, it's not that I dislike you... well, maybe just a little," Promise spread his hands and said helplessly to Jörmungandr. "Your venomous aura is just too strong. If you get any closer, I might end up meeting your sister sooner than I'd like."
Jörmungandr blinked, its expression clearly showing disdain as it looked at Promise, who was as weak as an ant by the roadside.
Feeling a bit displeased, the gigantic serpant lifted its massive body and moved away from Promise, putting some distance between them.
All of this was naturally observed by Loki, who had been watching from the shadows.
Seeing Jörmungandr, who now seemed almost docile, and sensing the sudden presence of death emanating from Promise, the very aura of his youngest daughter, Hel, the goddess of death, even the trickster god Loki couldn't help but widen his eyes in disbelief.
To be honest, he couldn't fathom what had happened in such a short amount of time.
"Speaking of which, although this painting is quite good, I... feel like something's missing,"
At this moment, Promise muttered, frowning as he examined the canvas.
Just then, Jörmungandr, who had moved away from Promise, suddenly raised its head sharply, its crimson eyes locking onto the sky.
It let out an ear-piercing roar, so terrifying that it echoed across Midgard, causing many to tremble and feel as though the earth itself was shaking.
This was no illusion.
Jörmungandr's massive body, hidden in the depths of the abyss, began to churn violently once more.
Its crimson eyes, fixed on the sky, burned with endless hatred and fury.
"Oh no!" Loki, who had also sensed something, looked up, his expression changing. "Why is he here?!"
As soon as he spoke, the sound of thunder rumbled across the sky, dispelling Promise's confusion about what was happening.
In the midst of the roaring thunder, a chariot pulled by goats, transformed into a streak of lightning, came to a halt in front of the enraged Jörmungandr.
Standing on the chariot was a god with fiery red hair, wielding a hammer that crackled with lightning.
Yes, the mightiest of the Norse gods after Odin himself, and Jörmungandr's fated nemesis, Thor, the God of Thunder—had arrived!
Promise's eyes lit up as he looked at the scene scene.
Looking at the majestic god, holding the divine hammer Mjölnir in his hand, standing on the thunderous chariot, facing off against the terrifying serpent below, he finally realized what his painting was missing.
And so, he eagerly picked up his brush again and immersed himself in his work, completely ignoring the arrival of
Thrud, the Valkyrie, who had rushed to his side on her white horse, accompanied by the little bird, Shini.
.
.
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