I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 483: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [22] How To Steal Brísingamen?

Stealing Brísingamen.

The damned necklace that clung almost possessively to Freyjaʼs neck, as if it had a will of its own.

No matter how many plans I devised, each one ended with the same dismal outcome: either I would be killed by whatever power her damn necklace unleashed, or Iʼd barely escape alive- empty-handed and no closer to saving my mother.

Iʼd spent days thinking it over. In the entire week Iʼd been here, I had never seen Freyja without that necklace. Not even once. ”Do you know what powers her Brísingamen possesses?” I asked Cleenah, pacing around the garden. [] ”Dwarves?” I stopped, glancing toward the sky as if searching for answers. ”You mean the race that vanished without a trace centuries ago?” []

Her reluctance to elaborate was clear, but I didnʼt press.

Whatever. ”Did they have nothing better to do?” I muttered, shaking my head in exasperation. [] ”I did,” I pointed out reminding her that I refused Freyjaʼs request to become part of collection. [] ”No, I just confirmed that those dwarves were simps too. Crafting something like Brísingamen just to get a ʼthank youʼ in the end? Pathetic.” []

I blinked. ”Wait. What? Thatʼs... weird.” I grimaced. ”Becoming a prostitute just for a necklace? Thatʼs a bit much, even for her.” [] ”Thatʼs... interesting,” I mused, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. ”But I still feel bad for you Goddesses. Ten thousand years of being celibate? Doesnʼt that get a little... stifling?” []

Cleenahʼs indignant reply to my tease came swiftly prompting me to smile a little. ”Relax, Cleenah,” I said with a smirk. ”I was just teasing. But can you really blame me for doubting? One of the so-called greatest gods, Zeus himself, is still preoccupied with adding women to his never-ending harem.” [>]

Cleenahʼs answer was filled with disgust.

I could only offer her a sympathetic glance. Zeus had crossed every line imaginable-he dared to court not only Nevia and Cleenah but even Layla which was really the last straw for me.

If I had the strength, I wouldʼve ended his career a long time ago. But I wasnʼt foolish enough to act recklessly. He was a god, and I was not. My time would come-I just needed to be patient. [
]

Her words made me grimace, the subtle jab hitting its mark. She was definitely getting her revenge for my earlier remarks. ”Iʼll admit,” I said defensively, ”that I might love more than one woman. But unlike him, I donʼt see them as trophies to collect. I actually care about them. And trust me, Iʼm not so insatiable that Iʼd aspire to thousands of wives.”

Cleenahʼs silence spoke volumes, but I continued, partly to convince her and partly myself. ”Besides, I donʼt fall in love that easily. Please donʼt compare me to Jayden.”

The thought of him made my brow furrow. That guy would chase after anything even remotely beautiful. Sure, physical beauty played a role-it always did-but it wasnʼt the only factor. At least, it wasnʼt for me.

Jayden, on the other hand, seemed destined to become a stereotypical harem protagonist. Spending nearly a year alongside Victor, another so-called protagonist, had shown me there were different kinds of heroes. Victor, for instance, had a sense of restraint and a distinct moral compass-qualities Jayden sorely lacked. []

I groaned at the mention of Maria and Seraphina. ”Iʼll pretend I didnʼt hear you include them as ʼmy women.ʼ But yes, I havenʼt had much time, and Sancta Vedelia is the safest place to send letters.”

Still, she wasnʼt wrong. I made it a point to write weekly letters to Layla and Miranda. Maria and Seraphina? Well, that was a different story. ”I send letters to them too,” I admitted, almost defensively. ”Once a month, at least, just to check on how theyʼre doing in the Holy Church...thatʼs all.”

It wasnʼt as though I was sending love letters to the Saintesses of Eden. That would be suicidal. I was pretty sure the church screened every letter before delivering them, so my messages to Maria and Seraphina were simple updates and polite inquiries. Nothing flirtatious.

I made a habit of sending similar letters to Aunt Belle, which also included updates for Orlin and Tihana.

Yes, my correspondence with the saintesses-technically unrelated to me-might raise a few eyebrows, but Maria and Seraphina were good people. They deserved the best, and I wished them nothing but that. I had even promised to help them if they ever found themselves in danger and needed my aid. The lack of distress messages from them so far was reassuring; it meant no immediate crises, which spared me from the potential headache of the Third Game. Given my current circumstances, flirtatious letters were entirely out of the question. Besides, John was likely keeping Layla informed about my situation. Everyone important would already know I was alive-Samara and Annaʼs continued presence was proof enough of that. For now, my focus needed to remain still. I had one mission: getting my mother out of this place. ”Lady Loki, youʼre here! Iʼve been looking everywhere for you!”

The maidʼs voice rang as I paced in the garden. Her sudden appearance wasnʼt surprising-I had known someone would come for me eventually. ”The Princess wishes to see me?” I asked. ”Yes, she has completed her morning meditation,” the maid replied, bowing slightly.

Freyjaʼs meditation was a ritual she practiced diligently each morning for hours. What exactly it entailed was a mystery-no one was permitted inside her quarters or even bother her during that time. Not even me. ”Very well,” I said, falling into step behind the maid as she led the way.

I needed to get a closer look at Brisingamen. I had to find a way to steal it.

Should I take it while sheʼs asleep? [] ʼFine. Then Iʼll have to slip a sleeping pill into her drink, just like I did with those two guards earlier.ʼ

Cleenahʼs groan was nearly audible. [
] ʼAlright, alright, I get it.ʼ

But did a better plan even exist when it came to stealing something precious from a goddess? The thought lingered in my mind, but no matter how much I turned it over, nothing brilliant came to me.

I followed the maid silently, lost in my spiraling thoughts until we arrived at our destination. ”Here, enter,” the maid said, pushing the door open. ”Okay...” I muttered, shaking my head to clear it. Obsessing over it for hours wouldnʼt help-I needed more information. First, I had to understand Freyjaʼs habits and routines. That was the only way to find a weak spot in her defenses.

As I stepped inside, an unexpected wave of heat enveloped me. The air was thick with an intoxicating, floral aroma that teased my senses.

Wait...

This isnʼt Freyjaʼs room. -Thud!

I spun around to leave, but the door slammed shut behind me. The click of the lock was accompanying it.

You conniving maid! ”Loki?”

A soft, melodious voice called out, making me freeze. Droplets of water splashed gently, breaking the silence. ”Y-Yes...” I stuttered, my voice betraying me with a squeal more suited to a startled girl than myself. Slowly, I turned around.

A quiet giggle floated through the steamy air, light and teasing. Freyjaʼs amusement at my reaction only deepened my embarrassment.

When my eyes adjusted, I could vaguely discern her location. The golden outlines of a lavish royal bath shimmered in the heat, but a sheer white curtain hung around it, obscuring her fully from view. ”Donʼt be so scared, Loki.”

Through the curtain, I saw the shadow of her leg rise gracefully, water trickling down its silhouette. My mind screamed at me to flee. ”I-I think I should leave, Your Highness,” I said, taking a cautious step backward only to be met with the hard wooden door. ”So shy~” She giggled in amusement.

Her shadow moved a bit, and the curtain parted slightly at the front. Freyja leaned forward, resting her crossed arms on the golden rim of the tub. Her golden hair was elegantly tied into a bun, leaving her neck and shoulders bare, and the Brisingamen glinted prominently at her collarbone.

She smiled, her gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that left me rooted to the spot. ”Letʼs talk, dear Loki.”