Leaving the Guild and returning home, Loki finally let out a breath.
She really had been angry this time. Ouranos had definitely foreseen something about the dungeon, yet that old man played dumb. Whatever his aim—whatever he'd seen—Loki would not let him hop back and forth across her red line.
"Now that felt good."
At her doorstep, the last of her temper bled away.
Right then, Lene—who'd been waiting outside—hurried up.
"Lady Loki, Goddess Astraea has arrived."
"Oh? Astraea-chan is here too? Even better."
For Loki, that counted as one of the night's few pleasant developments.
She pushed the door open, strode in, and—under Lene's guidance—reached the parlor where Astraea waited.
The moment Loki entered, she saw a goddess steeped in worry.
Tea-brown hair had lost its usual luster in the night; azure eyes swam with dread and despair, as if the steadfast "Justice" she embodied had begun to tremble.
Because of her children, she looks more… human, Loki thought.
Seeing Astraea like this only cemented Loki's read: from the day gods descend, the children of the lower world begin to change them.
Some are changed into goddesses like Astraea; others become the Dark Faction's kind.
And this Astraea—the one with edges softened by love—was precisely the version Loki wanted. Otherwise, the conversation ahead would be harder.
"Astraea. It's rare to see you like this."
"Loki…"
"I know, I know—you don't want small talk. Fine, straight to business."
Loki didn't dawdle.
"About you scattering a divine distress call toward the dungeon—I know. Lately only my children are on expedition, so I know exactly who you were hoping to reach. And so do you."
She tilted her head.
"You who preach 'Justice'—how did you end up doing something this… unjust?"
Astraea closed her eyes in pain.
She knew she was wrong. However frantic her worry, sending pleas toward the Loki Familia's expedition was a selfish act. She hadn't balanced the scales; she'd acted from pure personal desire.
That behavior tossed her banner of "Justice" out the window.
But between her unwavering creed and her children, Astraea chose. Against the lives of her kids, her justice meant nothing. She only wanted them to come back alive.
"Loki, I know this is my fault."
She bit her lip until it flushed with blood, but pushed on.
"Your children are on expedition. My action disrupted them and even put them in danger. I will apologize—and compensate. I only ask that my girls return."
Watching a goddess tormented by betraying her own creed, Loki found her anger spent. For Astraea to commit an act so "selfish" meant she had already set aside her principle for her children.
A god who can abandon centuries of "justice" for her kids… that is growth.
Loki had no urge to toy with her.
But the price would still need to be said aloud.
"You're lucky. The one who caught your signal is my most precious child. If any other had heard it, your girls would be buried in the dungeon right now. Only my precious one has a special ability—and that's how your children were pulled out of the jaws of death."
Relief loosened Astraea's face. Whatever the process, her girls were alive.
If her children could return safely, she'd accept whatever terms Loki named.
Catching that flicker of "thank the stars," Loki's mischievous streak twitched.
"Don't celebrate too soon, Astraea-chan. According to my kid's report, while they all survived, half are crippled."
"'Crimson Justice Flower' and 'Yamato Gentian' lost their right arms. 'Crafty Mouse' lost both legs. Of the two elves, one is missing a left arm, the other a right leg. The rest are heavily injured. It's worse than you imagined."
The words conjured up the smiles her girls wore before setting out—smiles now shattered by futures cut short. Astraea's eyes reddened.
She made no sound, but Loki could almost see the broken children weeping inside their goddess's mind.
Thinking of those futures—splintered and dark—Astraea's eyes held only ache.
Faced with the silent, red-eyed goddess, even Loki felt a prickle along her scalp.
Am I pushing too hard?
But then she pictured her own precious child in ruins and shoved the thought aside. Let Astraea taste despair first.
Astraea sat beneath that pall of heartbreak for a long time before Loki, unhurried, resumed.
"Still… you're very fortunate. Healing crippling injuries just happens to be my kid's specialty."
"…?"
Astraea's grief—so carefully gathered—simply fell apart. Loki's single line wiped it clean. For a moment, Astraea couldn't even sustain her sorrow. She stared, stunned, at the smiling trickster.
This is payback.
She understood at once. Loki was retaliating—for the selfish plea that dragged Loki's children in.
Astraea realized the strings were already tied; the moment she stepped through Loki's door, the price tag had been inked.
"Loki. Let's discuss terms properly."
(End of Chapter)
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