"So… the Successor of the Forgotten Trickster.

Tell me, what is it you hoped to negotiate?"

The voice echoed through the chamber, cold enough to freeze lava mid-flow.

I looked up.

Seated across the obsidian table was Hel…

Or at least, a version of her that didn't deconstruct the soul just by existing.

Her power was muted here, compressed into something that only felt like an S-Rank.

Still unbearable for a mortal like me…

But at least I wasn't dissolving just by making eye contact, so… progress?

I calmly walked forward and took a seat.

I mean, there were two seats.

One had to be for me.

Unless some invisible ghost wanted to call dibs, and in that case, I was fully prepared to throw hands.

I didn't know if my skills also carried over with my flaw but my face was incredibly still… Almost like [Poker Face] was still active.

I wasn't sure if that was a blessing or just another side effect of being dead.

But either way, I welcomed it.

Because right now, I couldn't afford a single crack.

I didn't actually know a lot about Hel in particular.

I mean, she was an extra character barely mentioned a few times during the Battle of Gods arc.

All I really knew was that she was impartial.

The kind of impartial that wasn't rooted in justice or mercy…

But in cold and cosmic detachment.

She didn't play favorites or pick sides.

She simply kept the balance in her realm.

Whatever that meant.

Which made her terrifying in a very specific way.

And yet… even she had something which she desired.

Because despite their silence, every one of the five Gods of the Underworlds craved the same thing.

The Chalice of Death.

An artifact that didn't just symbolize mortality… It commanded it.

The supreme authority over death itself.

Hades. Vael'Ruun. Osiris. Ereshkigal. Hel.

Rulers of five distinct realms, scattered across myth and memory.

They each governed a version of death.

A version of the afterlife.

But none of them ruled Death in its entirety.

Not yet.

Because the Chalice had been lost…

…ever since the Supreme Deity—the one who once reigned over true and undivided Death—vanished without a trace.

In the novel, Noah had once crossed into the underworld in search of a dead god's soul.

He was stronger then. Much stronger.

And even so, he had barely made it out alive.

But he didn't return empty-handed.

He found a few truths.

One of them?

These gods—the so-called rulers of the underworld—were not born with those names.

Hades. Osiris. Yamah. Ereshkigal. Hel.

None of those were their true names.

Those names were masks. Echoes borrowed from myths that had existed long before them.

Archetypes they chose to wear, each tying themselves to old, powerful ideas etched deep into the world's subconscious.

Back then, I didn't know what use it had.

But the more I thought about it, the more I understood.

Maybe becoming a god has something to do with faith.

And to anchor that belief, to gather it, shape it, wield it, these pretenders took names of ancient gods.

Names wrapped in stories that had walked the surface of this earth since time forgot.

Maybe those myths were real once.

Maybe they were echoes of even older truths.

Or maybe…

…they just wanted cool names to sound impressive at divine meetings.

Who's to say?

Gods were still people, after all.

And maybe that is the reason why many of the gods had names similar to myths that existed in this world since the beginning.

I mean, I wasn't exactly a scholar in my past life but I did read my fair share of mythic webnovels.

Some of them had faith-based power systems—gods rising from belief, myths gaining mass through worship and all.

Maybe ascending to godhood really did require belief.

Maybe these so-called current gods were once powerful Resonants themselves, just like us but at the peak of their strength, they carved their names into legend by anchoring themselves to a myth.

And the pretenders were the ones who cheated and instead of creating their own legends, they linked themselves to existing legends to rise to godhood.

Obviously, it couldn't be that easy.

If claiming godhood was just about naming yourself "Ra the Second" and calling it a day, every delusional cultist would be a divine warlord by now.

No, I am sure there were some other conditions.

And whatever they were, I was pretty damn sure they involved suffering, sacrifice or some other creative bullshit.

In any case, all of that was just speculation.

Fun theories to distract myself with while trying not to visibly shake in front of an actual goddess.

And really, none of it mattered right now.

Because no matter how grand the theory, how cosmic the truth…

…I was still an F-Rank corpse with a smile.

And pretender or not, the woman in front of me could crush me with a glare and that fact didn't change.

I looked calmly at the woman in front of me.

Her pitch-black hair swallowed the light, darker than any night I'd ever seen.

And those deep blue eyes?

They didn't look at me.

Instead they looked through me.

Not even a few seconds had passed since I sat down and it already felt like an eternity.

Mostly because my thoughts were spinning faster than a train and my inner monologue refused to shut up, even in front of a goddess.

But I couldn't stall forever.

So I took a breath…

and opened my mouth, fully aware that what I was about to say would probably make me suffer for at least the next minute or two.

Maybe three, if she was feeling particularly dramatic.

"As I mentioned, oh great Goddess, I come with humble needs—three, to be exact.

Measly little things in the grand scheme of your domain.

And in return…

I offer something far more valuable.

Information about the one thing even you still seek."

"THE CHALICE OF DEATH."

I kept my voice as dramatically polite as possible.

Because, yeah, surprise, I never took a divine diplomacy course on how to negotiate with a literal goddess using intel no mortal should ever have.

But here I was.

Improvising like a goddamn professional.

As soon as the words left my mouth, the world stilled and everyone around me froze before dissolving into thin threads of ice.

Hell, even my body was freezing and instead of feeling cold… I was burning.

"How do you know about that?"

Her cold voice echoed as everything went blank for a moment.

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