EV B2 Chapter 25:

With feigned casualness, I walked toward one of the few polished stone buildings in Valhalla proper. Over the gate was a strange symbol, almost like an arrow pointing up and off to the sides. Flanking each of the giant double doors that stood open was a statue of a man with rippling muscles, long hair, a rather impressive beard, and one missing hand. The eyes of the statues seemed to watch me as I walked forward.

I was not unarmed. No one walked around Valhalla completely unarmed, but neither was I displaying my more dangerous weapons. I simply carried a shield and wore a sword in a baldric sheath slung over my back. My furs hung loosely around me, my head left bare, and I maintained a stoic expression. Inside, though, I was nowhere near as calm as I appeared on the outside. My stomach roiled with anticipation, fear, and a fair amount of doubt.

This wasn’t the worst thing I’d done, I kept telling myself. Really, this was not like a real assassination. Technically, yes, it was an assassination, but it wasn’t as though the guy was gone forever. He was already dead—I was just sending him back a little bit.

I’d killed before, of course. But that had been in another world, and most of my fighting had taken place in arenas that weren’t even as bad as this. Still, all that was slim comfort, and I forced myself to pull back from my thoughts. Instead of dwelling on them, I tried to blink my mind clear and focus on what I was doing.

I needed to get in contact with the priest of Týr, but walking up to the man directly was out of the question. That would not look good for me in any case. Luckily, the priest belonged to an organization that, while vastly dissimilar to Loki’s cult on the surface, served a similar purpose for the god. I hadn’t been able to determine how involved Týr was in the day-to-day operations of his own organization. Loki, by contrast, was apparently more involved than the outside world believed when it came to the cult of the World Eater. I knew firsthand that he took a much more intimate interest than most assumed.

Týr’s cult, however, was different. Casually nicknamed the Society of War, it did not claim any official name. Despite their differences from Loki’s followers, they operated in similar ways. The Society offered missions that members or affiliates of the church could take on for various rewards. Most of these tasks were designed to further the interests of Týr or his clergy, which, as with any self-respecting cult, they would have you believe were 100% aligned.

I knew enough about mortal corruption to not fully believe that, though.

This gap between the intentions of the god and the clergy was what I was hoping to exploit to complete my mission. See, my mission wasn’t as simple as just walking up to the guy and knifing him in the street. No, I had to make sure there was no connection back to Loki or his cult, of course. Even if I went and killed him outright, there would still be suspicion. I knew I needed to find a way to make the man die in such a way that there would be no connection back to me. Either that, or I would go with him—not actually die, but just disappear, lay low for a while, and later claim I’d escaped from the Lesser Hall.

Of course, it wouldn’t actually take me long to get out of the Lesser Hall. I’d proven I could do that with relative ease. The only reason it kept the Priest of Terror pinned down was that he was relatively new and not exactly built for fighting, despite being a priest of a war god. Even then, I had serious doubts about their plan to send him back being as effective as any sort of long-term strategy. Perhaps if they sent back several warriors or rigged fights against him, it might work. Or maybe the challenges had changed in the Lesser Hall. Well, it shouldn’t matter—that wasn’t what they were paying me for.

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No, I was obviously going to stick to the plan of making sure no suspicion was cast on me—not even being anywhere in the area. Or, at the very least, being verified as unarmed. Killing him with a knife had been my first thought. But the more I considered it, the longer I planned, the more I realized this wouldn’t be a simple in-and-out job. If I wanted to do it in a way that was up to my usual standards and minimized the blowback, it would take weeks to find the right opportunity—or even longer. And I wasn’t sure how much time I had.

It would really depend on a lot of luck. I’d have to talk to Astrid as well. There was no way I’d be able to complete my task before she finished hers—assuming her task really would only take the few days she thought it would.

I pulled open one of the double doors just enough to slip inside, letting it close softly behind me. The large hall stretched out before me, its polished marble floors and shimmering walls somehow managing to look both opulent and rough at the same time.

It wasn’t like the uncut stones that made up some of the temples I had passed on my way here. Nor was it like the finished and stately rooms that Loki seemed to prefer. Instead, it had the feel of a worn castle—not yet succumbed to the ravages of time, but still well maintained in a serviceable manner. My footsteps echoed as I strode into the hall, drawing the attention of a few people. Some sat at pews, while others inspected the weapons displayed on the walls. They turned to look at me as I walked toward the front, where a few boards with papers pinned to them stood.

I stopped and began scanning the papers. These were the offerings. Most gods accepted some sort of tribute. You might offer a sword, food, or gold—Týr would accept those. But he also accepted tasks. Sometimes, the tasks came with rewards. Really, it was like hiring a mercenary. The tasks were many and varied, and I couldn’t always see how they benefited the clergy. But I knew that more scheming minds with greater context would be able to figure it out.

I stood there, reading through the postings and categorizing them in my mind. I wasn’t planning to take any of them right now. My goal was simply to put my face out there and start being recognized. Of course, my first thought had been to use some sort of disguise spell. Which sadly hand’t upgrqaded when I learned it. I had a significant boost in my efficiency with illusion magic; after all, I should be using it. I’d demanded an appropriate payment upfront, which would have allowed me to purchase a more effective spell. However, as I looked into it further, I realized I hadn’t considered a few things.

Someone of sufficient power would likely be able to see through my illusion. Of course, that hadn’t stopped me from putting one on anyway. It was something simple—just enough to slightly change my face without disguising too much of me. That way, if I were spotted without the illusion, I wouldn’t be immediately recognized. Still, I knew that if Týr ever really looked into it, he would undoubtedly be able to see through the spell and recognize me. At least it covered up my Loki tattoo.

So, my Disguise spell quickly became one of my new favorites. It was significantly more expensive than my other spells because it was popular among mages—and especially among lumens. Unlike the physical spells I had acquired, like Fool’s Constitution or Dance with the Jester, this one was in high demand. I hoped it would serve me well when this was all over.

I was still scanning the boards when a soft voice spoke over my shoulder.

“My brother, what can I help you with? I do not believe you’ve graced these halls before.”

I turned, and when I saw the face of my target, I wasn’t too surprised. After all, this was the temple he worked with.