Chapter 76: The Jester’s Gambit [3]

“What do you mean, mortal?” she asked.

Tsk.

So unoriginal.

Come on, you’re a goddess. At least try to sound mysterious or ominous.

But I didn’t say that out loud… because right now, I had the upper hand.

Or at least, the illusion of one.

And when you’re a dead man faking confidence in front of a goddess, the illusion was close enough to survive on.

Her aura burst out like a crashing tide, not directed at me, not this time. Just radiating in raw waves of divine tension.

Maybe disbelief.

Possibly curiosity…?

I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve done a doctorate in God Psychology.

But I could tell this wasn’t anger.

Because let’s be honest—most mortals don’t even know the term “Heavenly Principles,” let alone have the sheer gall to ask to be bound by them.

And me?

Not only did I know what they were… I knew how to invoke them.

“What I mean is simple, O Great Goddess.”

I continued with a calm voice.

“I wish to be restricted by the Heavenly Principles themselves, that I may share the knowledge with you.”

Her expression didn’t shift but the pressure spiked.

“And how,” she said, each word colder than the last, “do you plan to do that?”

It wasn’t just a question.

It was a warning as if saying: Say something bullshit to me again, and I will erase your handsome existence before your next thought can form.

“I wish to play a game with you, O Great Goddess…

…A game which I shall lose deliberately.”

I didn’t know what was going on with Hel’s mind but at least her aura receded.

“What game do you mean?”

Should I take it as amusement? It was Hard to tell.

Her voice was still as dry and robotic as ever—like I was negotiating with a particularly icy ex who pretended not to care just to make me obsess harder.

Honestly, I was even starting to miss the part where she tried to unmake my soul. At least that had some emotional range.

Not that I planned to complain, of course.

I kept my voice steady.

“It’s simple, O Great Goddess,” I said, keeping my voice steady like I wasn’t proposing something that could get me obliterated.

“We play a game under the Seraphic Decree.”

I let the words linger.

The Seraphic Decree was a game or more precisely, a gamble, enforced by the Heavenly Principles themselves.

The victor gets what they wagered.

The loser pays the price.

No appeals. No loopholes. No mercy.

Another piece of forbidden knowledge no mortal should have…

And yet, Hel didn’t even blink.

She probably got used to my knowledge.

Maybe she thinks it all came from Tricskter…

… Or maybe she is just waiting for my bullshit to be over, so that she can torture me to know where the information came from.

Still, I pressed on with my explanation.

I was already in deep shit, so might as well go all out.

“We both declare our wagers and then I will ask you three simple questions.”

“You answer honestly, as required.”

“If I win… I receive four simple wishes.”

“If I lose—which I definitely will—the Heavenly Principles, as the arbiter of the Seraphic Decree, will break the Trickster’s bindings and force me to give you the truth.”

“But, you have to promise me on your authority as Ruler of Helheim to grant my wishes even if I lose.”

There it was.

The hook.

Because if I was going to throw the game, why bother playing at all?

That last line was the patch over the biggest hole in my bluff.

The part where any sane goddess might wonder what the hell I was getting out of this.

Now, she’d think the game was just a formality, a loophole to bypass the Trickster’s lock and that my real goal was those four little “wishes.”

Let her think that.

Let her believe this was just another mortal, fumbling his way toward a prize with one foot in the grave and stars in his eyes.

And if by some miracle she actually answered all three questions?

Well…

That line also doubled as insurance.

It was unlikely but hey, it never hurts to have a safety net when bluffing a goddess.

Still, the Goddess was smart.

“Why should I trust you to ask ’simple’ questions?”

“What’s stopping you from asking me the location of the Chalice outright and throwing the game in your favor?”

“Why should I believe you’re playing to lose?”

Naturally, this goddess wasn’t like the ones from those dumb cliché webnovels.

You know the type where the all-powerful ancient being says, “Hah! What knowledge could a mere mortal possess that I, a goddess, do not?”

Then accepts whatever insane deal the protagonist throws at her, no questions asked.

Yeah. Hel wasn’t that kind of idiot.

She was cold, calculating and had probably incinerated a hundred would-be heroes before breakfast.

Which made this game all the more dangerous… and all the more interesting.

That’s why I had a backup plan.

See, I thought a lot about this.

Specifically, during the charming little torture session I had with that scaly, overgrown fire hazard of a dragon.

Pain has a way of clarifying things.

Somewhere between scream #17 and blackout #3, I had started running simulations in my head.

Scenarios and contingencies about which underworld god I might meet. What to say. What not to say.

How to survive. How to manipulate. How to win even while losing.

So yeah… I had prepared for this moment.

I even imagined her asking this exact question.

And I had the perfect answer ready.

But I was a little worried back then about being able to lie.

If they could see my soul, they might see through me immediately and refuse the deal outright or just squash me like a bug.

In that case, I would have had no choice but to share the real way to get Chalice in exchange for my resurrection.

Obviously, I wouldn’t have hesitated doing that.

I mean, my life was more important than the whole world.

What’s the point of saving the world if I’m not in it?

A world without this face was honestly… not worth preserving.

But now that even Hel couldn’t see it meant my most dangerous wildcard was still face-down on the table.

So, I gave her the answer I had rehearsed a hundred times in my head without any hesitation.

My smile sharpened.

“I, Rael Von Ashborn, swear on my soul…”

I felt the air shift.

“… that I shall ask the Ruler of the Underworld, Hel, three questions… and only questions she can answer.”

The moment the words left my lips, the world reacted.

A golden chain erupted from the floor and pierced straight through my chest.

I didn’t scream because I didn’t feel anything.

I felt it latch onto something beneath something fundamental in me.

… something that shouldn’t be touched.

And in that moment, I was bound.

The chains were called Binds of Eternal Damnation.

A restriction enforced by our own soul.

It was like a contract with the penalty for breach being my soul.

If I broke my vow and asked her a question she didn’t know the answer to, then my soul would be destroyed.

Even if I won.

Not many people really tried doing it because these chains were unforgiving even for a small mistake.

But I loved this mechanism so much that I added a twisted version of it in my game’s limited event.

An event where characters could gain massive power in exchange for insane oaths that came with brutal debuffs.

Obviously, it didn’t work that way in the novel.

In any case, my little soul-annihilation contract should’ve made Hel at least a little more trusting.

I mean, sure, she was still radiating enough suspicion.

But that was fine.

Doubt was just a symptom of intelligence.

And I was counting on that.

Because eventually, she would take the bait.

She had to.

There were four other gods circling that Chalice, each one a ruler of their own version of death.

And she knew better than anyone…

Only one of them would reach it.

The rest wouldn’t just lose.

They would vanish.

And Hel wasn’t someone who wanted to be the one to vanish.

“What are your wishes?” She asked.

Now, we are getting to the best part.

Honestly, at first I intended to ask only three wishes but seeing everything going smoothly I decided to stretch a little.

Of course, none of the wishes were anything she couldn’t grant.

That was the trick.

Keep it reasonable.

I leaned forward, just slightly.

“My wishes are simple.”

“First, I ask to be resurrected with my body completely healed.”

“Second, I wish to have a small fraction of your authority over death for five minutes after my resurrection.”

“Third, I ask that you and everyone in Helheim forget everything about me the moment I leave.”

I paused there and smiled.

Hel didn’t interrupt and just listened.

“And fourth…”

“When I kill the one who took my life…”

My voice dipped deliberately.

“…I want their soul condemned to an eternity of suffering.”

“To endless, unrelenting and meaningful pain.”

“Until even the concept of mercy forgets their name.”

Simple, aren’t they?

I mean, resurrection was the obvious one.

Being forgotten was to clean my tracks and avoid any divine grudges or awkward reunions in the afterlife.

Her authority over death was to kill that bastard…

…and the last wish was because I was a petty bastard.

I didn’t want that scaly piece of shit to find peace in death.

I wanted him to suffer.

After all, I had a promise to keep.

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