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. [
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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.