Rodrigo, Epona, Anpiel, and Susanoo quickly regrouped with the victorious goddesses, but all of them froze in shock when they saw Menrva collapse to the ground—utterly exhausted, drenched in blood, her wounds still wide open.

  “Quickly!” Epona shouted at Anpiel. “Give her ambrosia!”

  Anpiel was about to do so when a hand stopped him. It belonged to a red-haired woman clad in Valkyrie armor; in her other hand, instead of a spear, she held a horn of mead.

  “We know there is little ambrosia left in Palas,” she said, “but we have plenty mixed into our mead. Quickly—drink, all of you, and recover from your wounds.”

  As she spoke, the Valkyries who remained on the battlefield approached the gods, each carrying horns of mead.

  “Thank you—pardon me, what is your name?” Anpiel asked as the goddess released his arm.

  “I am Thrúd, daughter of the mighty Thor. My congratulations on your victory, Orniskem,” she replied with a smile.

  “Give me some mead as well, sister,” Modi ordered weakly, still dragging himself across the ground.

  To Orniskem’s astonishment, Thrúd kicked him without hesitation, sending him flying far across the field.

  “You two are a disgrace to the family! No wonder our father chose me as his heir,” she snapped.

  Thrúd did not resemble a conventionally beautiful goddess. She was broad-shouldered, sturdy, and unapologetically unfeminine. Her face bore no makeup, and her hair was completely unkempt. Had she been human, she would have looked like a tavern shopkeeper. Still, her small green eyes were strikingly kind.

  “As I was saying,” Thrúd continued, “my father Thor instructed me to invite you to the Valhalla banquet hall, should you pass the trial. There, we shall discuss matters concerning Vinland.”

  After Menrva, Heimdal, and Thor’s sons drank the mead, the white god rose and turned away.

  “Won’t you be joining us, Heimdal?” Thrúd asked.

  “No. My duty is to watch and protect this land. I cannot squander my time on feasts,” Heimdal replied, returning to his vigilant stance with his sword planted firmly in the ground, his gaze fixed upon the horizon.

  “We would be honored to attend your festivities,” Menrva said, gesturing for the rest of Orniskem to come closer.

  “They just attacked us. They won’t do it again, will they?” Epona asked suspiciously.

  “Are you implying there will be a second trial?” Ana added.

  “I doubt it,” Menrva replied. “Heimdal is the strongest being in this realm. Even holding back, he stands above all other Norse gods I can sense nearby.”

  Rodrigo and the others nodded in agreement.

  “Very well. My companions have agreed to attend the banquet. Would you guide us, Thrúd?” Menrva asked.

  “Certainly,” Thrúd replied, signaling the Valkyries to lead the way toward the great palace of Valhalla.

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  Thor’s children and the Valkyries flew north along the Bifrost. Menrva followed, with Rodrigo, Tania, Ana, Epona, Anpiel, and Susanoo close behind.

  Rodrigo stared in awe at the architecture of Asgard, though many structures bore scars of war. The towering golden edifices were breathtaking, crowned beneath a sky tinted blue and faintly green.

  “Impressed, Rodrigo?” Epona asked, watching his wide-eyed expression as he took in the seemingly endless city.

  “This doesn’t even compare to Turtuxa—not even its shadow,” Rodrigo said excitedly. “Even though I can tell there was a war here… those golden temples, fountains, gardens, colossal statues, arenas—it feels like another world.”

  “We are literally in another world,” Epona replied proudly. “Though Avalon is far more beautiful.”

  “Avalon is a swampy ranch full of horses, Rui. Ignore her,” Ana teased as she joined them.

  “And your underground city of the Tuatha Dé Danann is surely a paradise of forests, lakes, and grand halls of oak and mistletoe?” Epona shot back.

  “What is wrong with building beneath the earth?” Ana challenged.

  “Tell me, Rui—wouldn’t you like to see an underground city with massive bridges, waterfalls flowing down the walls, stone buildings adorned with gemstones and light?” Ana asked, taking Rodrigo by the arm.

  “Yes… the dawns there must be beautiful,” Epona said, taking his other arm.

  “Ladies, please,” Tania said, flying past them. “We all know your realms were beautiful. And that’s hardly relevant.”

  “You only say that because Lel is a dump,” Epona joked.

  “I won’t deny it,” Tania replied flatly. “Lel is dreadful.”

  “What is Lel like?” Rodrigo asked.

  “It’s a massive castle where it is always night,” Ana explained. “There are monstrous sphinxes guarding a bridge… and that’s about it. The entire realm is inside the castle, eternally dim.”

  “There are thousands of cities inside its chambers,” Tania added, “but they all look the same—gray, square, lifeless.”

  “No one goes sightseeing there. It’s pure bureaucracy,” Epona scoffed.

  “Well, my realm isn’t particularly lovely either,” Menrva said, attempting to join the conversation.

  “What realm is that?” Rodrigo asked curiously.

  “Rasenna—the Etruscan realm. Like Ana’s, it lies underground. Long corridors, Greek-style architecture. We are not accustomed to sunlight,” Menrva explained.

  “Then verily must mine own dominion surpass them all in beauty,” Susanoo declared with enthusiasm.

  “I’ve never seen your realm—what is it called?” Ana asked.

  “Takama-no-hara,” Susanoo replied proudly.

  “A realm most wondrous: mountains crowned with mist, sacred temples and tranquil baths, cascading waterfalls, serene lakes, endless rice fields—each shrouded in a divine haze.”

  “That sounds quite similar to Olympus,” Menrva said.

  “Alas, I am unacquainted with Olympus, Menrva-san, and thus cannot render judgment,” Susanoo replied politely.

  “Well then,” Menrva said cheerfully, “what do you think of this?”

  “When this mission is complete, let us travel—to see other lands, peoples, and cultures, beginning with our own.”

  “I… cannot return to my realm,” Ana admitted quietly.

  “Nor can I,” Epona said sadly. “I doubt my siblings wish to see me.”

  “Oh… forgive me,” Menrva said softly.

  “And with Lel at our heels, traveling freely may be impossible,” Tania added.

  “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that,” Menrva said regretfully.

  “And you, Lady Menrva,” Anpiel asked curiously, “what is your story? Why were you with Ares?”

  “I… simply ran away from home in search of adventure,” Menrva replied hesitantly, clearly hiding something.

  “Nothing tragic?” Tania asked. “No exile?”

  “No… I only wanted to see the world,” Menrva said softly. “Still, Palas—though ruled by my goddess—is a rather… precarious realm.”

  A silence fell over the group. Each of them carried their own burdens.

  “Would you like to travel the human world, Lady Menrva?” Rodrigo asked.

  “The human world?” she repeated, intrigued.

  “Yes. Long ago there was a man named Herodotus who traveled the world and recorded all he saw. I don’t know if such things are possible for gods—but as humans, we can.”

  “That sounds… wonderful,” Menrva said with a smile.

  At that moment, Thrúd announced that they had finally arrived at Valhalla. In the distance rose a vast garden dominated by a colossal tree, and behind it, an immense palace gleaming like gold on the horizon.

  Rodrigo gazed upon the palace in awe. Never had he seen a castle so grand; it made the Silver Palace of Palas and even Ares’ palace in the Areopagus seem like mere models.

  It was truly magnificent.