Hel—ruler of Helheim.

A goddess known across mortal lands for her cold impartiality.

A queen of stillness.

Of silence.

Of the forgotten.

Her strength surpassed mortal comprehension and yet…

For over a millennia, she had craved only one thing.

The Chalice Of Death.

A Divine Artifact holding the supreme authority over True Death.

Not just her, but every god of the underworld longed for it.

Because even gods… were not the flawless beings mortals believed them to be.

They too were once human.

They too were still flawed.

And to rule death… was to no longer fear it.

Even Hel, for all her divinity, still feared.

Her gaze drifted to the mortal boy before her.

An insect in front of her divinity.

And yet… she had granted him an audience.

All for one reason:

The Chalice.

This boy bore the mark of the Forgotten Trickster, a name even primordial gods dared not speak.

They had buried his true name in silence, choosing instead to call him what they feared most: The One Who Could Not Be Caged.

When the Trickster lived, he walked beside the wielder of True Death.

So perhaps… just perhaps… his successor knew something.

A clue, a hint or anything..

And if that wasn't enough, the boy's soul still shimmered faintly with a trace of divinity.

The Trickster's spark.

It was unmistakable.

And in this boy's smile…

She saw it again.

Still, when the boy tried to negotiate with her…

… with that measly strength.

It amused her.

How boldly he played at godhood.

As if death could be bought with words.

The boy gritted his teeth, trying to resist her aura.

She could see his soul beginning to shatter.

But still, he stood.

And through it all, that maddening smile never left his lips.

Not pride.

Not courage.

Not even madness.

Just a stubborn echo of a man who had no right to stand in a throne room of gods…

… and yet refused to kneel.

Her eyes narrowed.

She could see the strain in his soul.

His essence was beginning to fracture beneath her presence.

Even compressed to a fraction of her power, her divinity still crushed him.

A mortal, daring to speak of negotiations?

How bold.

How foolish.

He thought himself clever.

But Hel knew better.

All mortals broke eventually.

Some with fire.

Some with silence.

And some with pain so exquisite, it unraveled their very sense of self.

This one,

He smiled, he postured, he dared to bargain.

But beneath it all, he was still flesh.

And with just the right push…

He would spill every secret and fragment tied to the Chalice.

And yet…

She drew her divinity back.

The ice receded.

The air softened.

The world, once again, found its shape.

Why?

Because she was no fool either.

Even she, a goddess of old, could not peer into the depths of his soul.

And that alone told her everything.

The mark of the Forgotten Trickster pulsed faintly within him.

A seal.

A blessing… or a curse.

Even she could not tell.

But if the Trickster had chosen this boy,

then perhaps…

perhaps this one truly did know something.

And so, for now, she would not shatter him.

Not yet.

Because if there was even a single chance he could lead her to the Chalice,

Then his soul was worth more intact than broken.

She leaned back, the shadows behind her throne deepening.

Her voice wasn't loud.

It didn't need to be.

"Tell me, mortal…

What knowledge do you possess of the Chalice?"

—

[Rael's POV]

Fucking shit.

My body felt like a shit.

Honestly the aura was too much.

And this was her holding back.

When I said I wanted to negotiate, I knew it was a gamble. I expected an outburst, maybe even a warning shot.

But this?

This was the full-body equivalent of being stared at by the concept of judgment itself.

Still… I wasn't surprised when she asked.

I would've found it weirder if a literal goddess didn't question how some no-name corpse like me knew anything about the Chalice.

A divine relic missing for centuries.

Coveted by gods.

Forgotten by time.

And somehow I knew something?

Of course she asked.

I would've asked too before vaporizing me for wasting her time.

Still, it was… odd.

She retracted her aura before I could even open my mouth.

Almost like she didn't want to break me.

Which was very out of character for someone who could turn my soul inside out with a sneeze.

I already had a plan, though.

I was going to blame everything on the Forgotten Trickster.

Dude's name already sounded shady enough to cover every sin I planned to commit in the next decade anyway.

Plus, Hel had already granted me an audience.

That had to mean something.

She knew about him.

Maybe more than I did.

Hell, maybe they were related.

That would explain the frostbite-level passive aggression.

Either way, the Trickster was my scapegoat now.

There were few guesses to why she acted like that.

Maybe she was one of those people.

You know, the overthinkers. The ones who solved a question before anyone even asked it.

Then acted smug about it.

And ninety percent of the time, they were completely wrong.

Maybe Hel thought that laughing bastard—the Forgotten Trickster—handed me this knowledge as some divine prank.

Honestly, that worked in my favor.

So I wasn't about to complain.

Let her connect all the imaginary dots she wanted.

As long as it kept me breathing and not on the permanent guest list in Helheim, she could write a whole conspiracy board in her head for all I cared.

Still, there was one tiny problem left.

You know—the part where she tortures the ever-loving hell out of me until I scream out the truth?

Yeah. That part.

That was the bit I was most worried about.

Gods weren't exactly known for their gentle interrogation techniques.

But of course… I had a plan.

A terrible, reckless, definitely-going-to-backfire kind of plan.

The best kind, really.

Because when you're an F-Rank corpse trying to bluff a goddess, you don't play fair.

You play desperate.

My plan was simple, stupid and suicidal.

I was going to threaten her…

With the name of a god so ancient, so buried in cosmic silence, that even whispering it with intent could shatter a soul.

My soul.

Not that I planned on shattering it, of course.

I'm petty, not insane.

I was just going to blackmail her, holding my soul hostage.

And if that didn't work… Well, I had a backup.

There was a way to slip my soul into another underworld.

Jump ship to a different realm where another god might actually want me.

Yeah, that's a thing.

Not that anyone else knew how to do that.

Hell, I wasn't even sure if it would work.

Still, lucky me—my elaborate, soul-shattering, suicide-by-goddess plan never had to be tested.

Because for some reason, Hel decided not to crush my soul.

Maybe that was the Trickster's influence too.

Or maybe she just liked the way I smiled with my handsome face while dying inside.

Who cares really?

Because I was still out of shit.

The thing is…

I did know what the Chalice of Death was.

I just didn't know where it was.

Or how to get it.

Which meant…

I was completely, utterly and cosmically screwed.

But she didn't have to know that, did she?

—

Welcome to the "How to Scam a Goddess 101" class.

—

Author's Note

For those wondering: how is he so calm in front of a Goddess or how is he lying so easily? Don't worry, it's not plot armour. There's a reason, and you'll understand it by the end of the academy entrance exam arc. So be patient.

And no, cheating death won't be a gimmick. It happens once, no immortality or easy outs. He's here to suffer properly 😈

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