The Ultimate Lich King of the Multiverse

4/5

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"Alright, enough small talk. Care to explain why you invited me out here?"

"Hmm? I just felt like we haven't chatted in a while, that's all."

"You liar."

Seeing Freyja's cold smirk from under her hood, Loki dropped her playful attitude as well, her lips curling into a bold grin. The air between the two goddesses shifted instantly—a complete reversal from just moments ago.

Unluckily for the poor café waiter who arrived to take their order, he was caught squarely between the opposing divine pressures of two gods. The overwhelming presence—calm but suffocating—caused his cheeks to twitch involuntarily. It felt like he was bound by iron chains, frozen in place. Meanwhile, Ais remained unfazed, quietly observing the two without interruption.

"Let me get straight to the point. What kind of mischief are you planning this time?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Loki."

"Don't play dumb with me, you witch."

Freyja turned to the paralyzed waiter and gave him a gentle smile. His eyes widened, and the next instant, his face flushed bright red like he'd been struck by a fever. He turned around and fled the scene at top speed.

With the café now cleared out, Freyja turned her gaze back. Loki's eyes, though always narrow, now gleamed with the sharpness of a raptor, focused and wary.

"You've been acting too suspicious lately. Claiming you weren't interested in the Banquet of the Gods, yet showing up anyway... and from your tone earlier, it's obvious you were there digging for information. So tell me—what are you scheming this time?"

"Calling it a scheme is a bit harsh, don't you think?"

"Cut the crap."

'Every time you do something weird, it never ends well.' That sentiment was hidden in every word Loki uttered. Her crimson eyes clearly stated: If you cause trouble, don't expect me to go easy on you.

Their gazes clashed like blades. Freyja met Loki's sharp, snake-killing stare with a composed smile. The silent clash of divine pressure between the two gods was invisible to the eye—but when one realized the entire café had emptied out, it was obvious: Freyja had just claimed the place for herself.

Under Ais's watchful gaze, the unspoken confrontation dragged on, seemingly without end.

Eventually, Loki began to grow weary.

She dropped her earlier posture, speaking now with certainty.

"...A man, huh."

"..."

Freyja didn't reply. She simply smiled beneath her hood.

But that was answer enough for Loki.

With a long, exaggerated sigh, Loki leaned back in her chair.

"Sooo, you've got your eye on someone from another Familia again, huh?"

Freyja's... affections—no, her flirtatious nature—were infamous among the gods.

The moment she laid eyes on a mortal she liked—always a young man from the lower world—she'd pursue him with relentless intensity. Using her unrivaled beauty like a weapon, she would claim them for herself. Countless men had fallen prey to her enchanting allure.

This time was no different. It was clear she had her eyes on someone new, likely a member of another Familia.

She'd gone to the Banquet of the Gods to identify which Familia that boy belonged to.

Naturally, if she were to make a move on someone already contracted to another god, especially one with a powerful Familia, it would spark conflict. If she provoked the wrong one, the consequences would be significant—even for her. That's why she was carefully gathering intel first. At least, that was Loki's theory.

Freyja didn't deny any of it.

"Seriously, you damn temptress. In heat year-round, aren't you tired yet? Don't you even care who you're going after?"

"Oh come on, now you're just being rude. I do have standards, you know."

"Yeah, right. Says the woman who's slept her way through half the idiot gods in Orario."

"Building connections has its perks. Makes things more convenient, you know—socially and otherwise."

Loki let out a guttural sound of disgust. Freyja shrugged her slender shoulders—just barely—as if brushing off the insult.

Loki, seemingly done with her questions, leaned back fully in her chair. The wooden frame creaked under her weight as she stretched, lacing her fingers behind her head.

Freyja, on the other hand, brought her now-lukewarm drink to her lips and sipped, sinking into the silence that followed their exchange.

Outside, the sky was clear and endless. The distant noise of the festival echoed through the open window, carried in on a gentle breeze that fluttered Freyja's cloak.

"So?"

"Hmm?"

"This boy you've taken a liking to—what kind of kid is he? When did you first notice him?"

Loki smirked.

That mischievous curiosity all gods shared was written plainly on her face.

Her sparkling eyes said it all: Don't even think about leaving until you spill something.

"…"

"You made me waste all that energy. I've earned the right to at least hear this much."

Faced with Loki's flimsy excuse, Freyja turned to the window at her left.

Below, children walked the streets.

As if lost in a memory, her silver eyes stared off into the distance beneath the shadow of her hood.

"That boy... you might actually know him. Or rather, you should know him quite well."

"Wait—hold up. Don't tell me you've set your sights on someone from my Familia?"

Loki instantly tensed, and Freyja merely chuckled, shaking her head.

"He always looks so quiet, but when the moment calls for it… he radiates this overwhelming presence. It's intoxicating."

Freyja murmured, her lips trembling with unspoken emotion.

"What captivated me the most… was his color."

That flawless, frost-like radiance—the purity of it had seized her gaze and utterly bewitched her.

The rest of the words stayed on her tongue, never spoken aloud. Her voice rose slightly with an emotion none could quite name.

"I really did stumble upon him by chance. He just happened to enter my field of view."

She began to recall the moment vividly.

Freyja looked down through the window again, as though reliving the encounter.

"It was just like this..."

That hazy morning light, West Main Street.

A young man walked from the far end of the road.

Yes—just like the figure now moving through her field of vision.

Freyja froze.

Her silver eyes locked onto one figure alone.

He was heading toward the arena, to the Monster Festival. Just like everyone else, he walked with the crowd toward the massive coliseum. Freyja stared at the slowly receding back, and a wickedly enchanting smile gradually bloomed across her face.

"Sorry—I just remembered something urgent."

"Huh?"

"Let's chat another time."

Leaving a dumbfounded Loki behind, Freyja stood up and left the café.

Wrapping her cloak tightly around herself, she stepped out and vanished down the stairs.

Only Loki and Ais remained at the table.

"What's up with her? Standing up and leaving out of nowhere..."

Loki stared at the stairway where Freyja had disappeared, her face filled with suspicion.

Then—"Hm?"—she tilted her head.

Ais, sitting a short distance away by the window, was still gazing outside.

"Ais? What is it? Did something happen?"

"...No."

"Nothing," she replied—but her golden eyes remained fixed outside.

Strangely, they followed the same black-haired figure Freyja had been watching.

"Someone I know really well, huh… That whole description she gave is kinda bugging me now. Someone I'm really familiar with… but whose Familia was he from again?"

Loki mumbled as she furrowed her brows—and shortly after, both she and Ais left the café behind.

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