Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 874: My Only Family

After a thorough examination of Helga’s body, where she remained unconscious, Linkle finally came to the conclusion that the valkyrie of all people had a stress induced heart attack. What was worse was the fact that Erika had yet to finish her guard duty by the meeting hall, and Ditsy–an expert in biology, was still sitting in her chair beyond the door to the very same meeting spot.

Adding more unrest to the chaos were Helga’s anxious daughters. At first, Markus and Gallaria were looking after their outside of Raven’s bedroom, but upon Linkle’s insistence, the dark knight walked inside the bedroom and confirmed a mortal threat.

”Yeah,” his hand pressed by Helga’s bare collar, Markus blankly stared at the valkyrie’s form. ”Her spirit is rejoining with her body–more specifically, her heart.”

Lifting his gaze, he glanced at Linkle and the rest of Raven’s entourage.

”Aphrodite’s curse brought her back to life; she died from the weight of her hasty decision.” Even from behind his helmet, the crowd could sense his unrest. The knight was upset about what she’d done, but at the same time, he had nothing to say. Pulling his hand away from her, Markus re-equipped his metal gauntlets. ”When she wakes up, she will be quite upset.”

”She died...” Aria muttered, her eyes boring into Helga’s skin.

While Linkle covered her body with a blanket again, the barbarian and the others from her party couldn’t help but remember a time when they thought she was invincible. Today has proven them wrong in more ways than one. Had it been a battle, Helga’s soul would’ve perished, and with the spirits of the soldiers already broken, no amount of moral boosting would’ve brought any new swords to the fight.

”Speaking of gods and their curses,” reaching for his greatsword, Markus drew it in a wide arc and held it sternly in Raven’s direction. A moment of shock rippled through the crowd–followed soon after, a narrowing of eyebrows and the twitching of fingers as their hands reached for their weapons. ”The bitch goddess calls you her son, speaks of her soul and of Nightsilver amalgamated within your mortal coil. What does it all mean?”

Though his tone remained hushed, Markus’s flames raged out of his armor with every bit of contempt brought forth not within himself but as a proxy of the valkyrie, Helga. Through the metal visor, his anger could be heard in the form of visceral grunts and the clenching of his spirit.

”ANSWER ME!” His hand jerked, and the blade inched closer to the hero’s face. ”WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT WITCH? WHY DOES SHE CLAIM YOU HER SON!?”

Staring at the tip of the knight’s blade, Raven pondered the same question. What did she want from him? And for what reason would she call him her son? The only thing he would eventually come up with, however, was far too little to satisfy the knight’s anger and curiosity.

”To cause unrest amongst the ranks, perhaps?”

”Lies!” Grunting behind the helmet, the knight’s fingers itched for bloodshed. Alas, the slumbering form of his lifelong friend and the thought of her daughters behind a flimsy door forced him to rein in his actions. ”Arghh!! To hell with you all!”

Letting go of his sword, Markus kicked the weapon out of his reach. With his eyes closed, he turned his head left and right as he wrestled with anxiety.

”Hold onto that weapon lest I slit your fucking bellies and uncover the bloody truth myself...” Opening his eyes again, he heaved through the lips, and finally, the flames across his body retreated back to his metal shell. ”If she dies before I do, Raven.”

Squeezing his fist, Markus grunted at the hero once more. Led not by thought or his own spirit but by instinct, the spirit warrior tried swallowing his rage.

”If she dies before I do, then I will show you why I carried the dead lord’s banner.” Though silence persisted after Markus’s warning, it wasn’t from fear but rather in a form of understanding. The man had been with Helga for more than a dozen lifetimes; in that respect, the party member’s relationships, however intimate they may have been, paled in comparison to the knight’s companionship with the valkyrie.

”How about we stop spreading any rumors about Raven?” Jumping into the conversation, Linkle got down on her knees to pick up Markus’s sword. Lifting it with her arms wrapped around the hefty weapon, she struggled to stand straight but managed somehow. ”Nerva obviously wants us to lose hope, and for all we know, she has already succeeded by planting the seeds of doubt about the chosen hero.”

Putting the blade beside Helga’s body, Linkle stood straight before turning to face Raven.

”Nightsilver’s soul being a part of you isn’t any news, but if anything else is there inside of you, how come none of the other gods picked it up? Athenia? Razor? The Prince? Elenaris and the other two?”

”What about someone who’s not a god?” Cutting into the conversation, Liliyana drew everyone’s attention to the corner where she’d been standing with Amedith by her side. Leaning against the wall with her hands folded, she pointed at the bracelet on Raven’s hand. ”Arche said that you were the person who saved her. Then there was that time you lost control of yourself in Inktaus. All things seem to point to the fact that there’s something wrong about you, maybe it’s part of your soul or something else entirely, but–”

”I’m not her son, Liliyana...” Raven whispered, slowly turning to face the devil.

Wearing a grimace for once throughout this conversation, he squeezed his fist in rage much like Markus, but his anger wasn’t directed at anyone from his group; instead, it was focused towards the witch goddess.

”Even if by some twist of fate she had something to do with my birth, she is not my mother...” Slowly uncoiling his fingers, he drew a long, deep breath and sighed. ”The only family I have is in this room, and a few scattered through in Athenia. That’s all.”

”I get it, but even Athenia did not know anything about your parents, did she? She told everyone about theirs, but had nothing to say about yours.” Speaking what everyone had been thinking, Liliyana put an end to the speculations. Even so, Raven never meant what he said literally, and to express it further, he spoke once more.

”Nerva was killed by her mother in the womb,” lifting his fist, the hero curled his fingers into a fist. ”My mother or not, perhaps it’s time for her sons and daughters to follow Aphrodite’s example for once and put a final rest to that wicked goddess.”

”Finally, something we both can agree on.” Grabbing his word from the bed, Markus hooked it on his back. Walking away, the knight left the room to calm himself for his rage could only be contained, not quelled–not after what had happened that night.

As for the doubt in people’s minds about Raven, how could a hero be a hero when his very existence in this world was born from their archenemy? The dark general’s hold and his command were already being brought into question, but how thin his authority stretched when the dust settled was to be seen and only a matter of time.