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Huffing out a sigh, Razor rose back to his feet. Turning to Michael who was keeping guard from the disgruntled spirits and dying fairies, he pressed his lips shut for a moment before speaking.

"The witch was right, that's the emperor's blood I can sense him through it," shifting his gaze to yet another dried layer of blood on the ground, Razor's eyes squinted with scorn. "And amongst the others, there's that slave trader girl's blood who was trapped with me in the torturous illusion by Asmodia."

"So there definitely was a confrontation that happened here, but why exactly?" Michael mumbled to himself.

"I still don't understand why she told us only half of what we need to know," Razor complained.

"Well…" Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Michael raised his head to the skies to Melicia again. "Thanks to her, at least we know where his body is."

Moving closer to Michael, Razor followed his gaze upwards to the sight of the bloody hands reaching for them on the ground.

"A Valkyrie, was it? I wonder what kind of monster it is to be capable of killing a god?" Having no clue about Valkyries, Razor was curious to meet them.

"I would've preferred if we didn't have to find out," Michael on the other hand wasn't too enthusiastic about their next trip.

Taken by the arms of the witch, the two traveled through an unusually expansive realm tear overrun with bright light and an overall sense of enlightenment. Coming out on the other end, however, their senses were overwhelmed by what they had seen and it took a while for their eyes to adjust back to normal. 

When they did, however, they were met with an astounding surprise. Standing in the middle of an army of armored warriors with feathered helmets and gold glistering armor, the war generals were more than a little confused about the situation.

'Are these the Valkyries?' Though Razor, slowly reaching for his sword to defend himself in case they tried anything.

"Don't you dare make that mistake!" A feminine voice thundered in a warning.

Making a straight path in the middle, the soldiers subsided for their queen to step forward. Clad in a golden armor that glistered enough to blind the brightest angels, Helga marched towards the generals with her golden staff stomping the ground with her every step. Scanning her up and down, the generals were both lost in fascination with her angelic attire.

Spanning a pair of lush white wings, Helga encharmed the men with her beauty, not through some primal urge, but the sheer grace that fluttered like her fair skirt.

"Keep your hand off of your weapons mortal," stopping before the two, Helga handed her staff to an attendant so she could be on even ground with the two. "Now spare me the niceties, and out with your reason to be here already!"

Although she no longer held the staff, her attendant stomped it on the ground for her to emphasize the words further. However, being who they were, instead of being subdued further, the generals picked up on their attempt at manipulation and heightened their psychological defense.

"We're for the emperor's body," Razor spat out, confidently taking a step toward the queen.

The other Valkyries responded by directing their blade in the direction of his head. Even then, as arrogant as always, Razor simply scoffed it off without backing away.

"And why do you need his body?" Helga asked, moving inches away from Razor's face. 

Her eyes shielded behind the helm visor, Razor couldn't judge her state of mind from her lower face alone. Yet, as his eyes wandered through her fair skin, he once again felt himself drawn by the charm of her plum lips.

'Is it just me or her whole body is glowing with a glistering light?' Razor mused as he had never seen anything more angelic than her.

"We plan to bury it on Atlas," breaking his train of thought, Michael answered Helga from the back. Moving forward as well, the elf pulled Razor away from the enchantress. "But before that, how about you confess why you had to kill him? Depending on your answer, a lot could change so be careful."

"What did you say?" Brushing Razor aside with the back of her hand, Helga moved in front of Michael and lifted her vision to look at him directly. "Care to say that again fellow elven?"

Gazing into her emerald eyes, Michael was quite shocked to find that the Valkyrie in front of him was at least part elf. Fascinated by it all, he wanted to ask so many things, but the situation demanded otherwise.

"Just hand us the body and we'll be out of your hair," shaking his head he pulled himself out of yet another trance and quickly stepped away from the queen of warriors.

"That's right," swiftly moving between the two. Razor decided to be the voice of reason for once. "I just want to bury him on the land he ruled, not wherever this place is, and believe me, I don't mean that in a bad way."

The queen glanced between the two men before shifting her gaze to her attendant standing by the side. With a nod, she sent her off somewhere to prepare for something that she already had in mind.

'I can't kill these two, they're neither heavenly bodies nor a threat to their world. And besides, ' Taking the staff back in her hand before the attendant left, Helga turned back to the general. 'They're both warriors who stood toe to toe against some of the most vile beasts on Atlas, I can't deny them that.'

"Fine, but we can't hand him over to you just yet," stomping her staff to the ground, she motioned them to follow behind her. "We'll need some time to prepare his send-off so nobody can make use of his flesh, bones, or any organs."

Walking behind her, the generals could feel Valkyries glaring them down from both sides. Paying them little mind the two kept their eyes fixed on the road ahead. 

"And what are you going to do to him exactly?" Razor asked, curious about what they were going to do.

"With a curse, the most effective way of dealing with mortal and even subjective immortals like demons," Helga explained, continuing on down the path through the city.

'I doubt she'll let us take it with us without the precaution.' Although he would've preferred to take him back without any altercations, if the curse is what it took to get him back, then Razor was willing to compromise on that end.

On their tour through the ever-bright city of Valkyries, the generals noticed numerous decorations scattered all around. Amongst them, the thing that caught their attention the most was the pair of lions engraved on every fountain and column supporting nothing at all. The city itself consisted mostly of expansive white tents and barracks that housed the younger Valkyries.

"Your name, you never told us what it was," led inside an empty tent, Michael could no longer hold his curiosity about the elf.

"I…" Turning around to face him inside the tent, Helga crossed her arms before continuing. "I used to be known as Freya, but then I died and the caretakers renamed me as a newborn to be Helga."

"What?" His eyes squinted in confusion, Razor didn't understand a word of what she said.

Rebirth and revival weren't a foreign concept to the general, but to be reborn as an infant was utterly unheard of. Not big on explanations, the queen moved between the two and headed towards the curtained entrance.

"Make yourself comfortable for now, you can take Atlas back to your world once the body can't be touched by Atlarians," with those words, Helga left the two alone.

In the brief moment the curtain opened as she left, the two noticed a group of guards being stationed right outside their tent. While the two may have been welcomed to stay, the Valkyries made it abundantly clear that they had no intentions to be their friends.

"Get comfortable with a gazillion guards outside, yeah, right," getting especially close to the curtains, Razor complained loud enough so the Valkyries outside could hear him.

Pulling him away from the curtains, Michael scoffed in frustration.

"What the hell are you doing? There are a thousand of them and two of us!" squeezing his shoulders with great strength, Michael looked right into his eyes and spoke again. "I doubt you were ever told this as a human, but don't pick a fight in a land where your presence is only tolerated not wanted."

As an elf, there have been many times when Michael had felt disdain hurled at him through looks, and despite here, despite not being the only elven, he was feeling much the same way. Razor on the other end, had never experienced such discrimination and thus had no clue to the repercussions that could follow.

"Whatever," rolling his eyes, Razor brushed Michael's hands off his shoulders and moved deeper into the tent to get some rest as he'd been advised. "I used to be an adventurer, you know, dealing with monsters wouldn't be anything new for me."

Watching him as he walked away, Michael couldn't believe he still saw people through the lens of their race.

'Old habits die hard.' Was all that ran through Michael's head.

"I hope our stay doesn't extend a minute longer," mumbling to himself he decided to get into a chair to rest his body as well.