Chapter 613: Haila's Conditions

I don't know how long I've been running.

Sleipnir's speed began to slow, from a gallop to a run, from a run to a jog, from a jog to a walk.

A river appeared ahead, its water ink-black, the surface without a ripple, like dead water that would never flow.

The Kiaoru River, the border of the Mingjie.

A bridge lay across the river, its deck paved with gold, flashing a cold light in the darkness.

At the bridgehead stood a bridge guard, a female giant named Modegud.

Her face was gaunt, her hair like dry waterweed, her eyes two clusters of ghostly green light, flickering in the darkness.

Her skin was snow-white, like snow.

"Who are you?"

"Helmod, son of Aoding." He reined in the reins, "I want to see Haila."

Modegud stared at him for a long time, her ghostly green eyes sweeping over his face, as if trying to discern something.

Then she turned sideways, making way.

"Go on, but you should know that few who cross this bridge return."

Helmod said nothing, just urged his horse across the bridge.

Sleipnir's hooves struck the golden bridge deck, emitting a clear sound—ding, ding, ding—like someone striking a bell.

After crossing the bridge, the road began to slope downward. The further we went, the deeper and darker it became, the air grew colder, cold as if someone had stuffed ice shards into the cracks of bones.

Shadows began to appear along both sides of the road, not living people, but the dead.

Their silhouettes were faint like smoke, their faces blurred, features indistinguishable, merely standing silently with heads lowered.

They did not look at him, nor speak.

At the end of the road, a palace appeared.

Haila's dwelling, Ailide'nier.

The palace walls were built of pallid bone, each bone polished smooth as a mirror.

The roof was covered with bark stripped from the World Tree, dark brown and wrinkled.

The door was iron, huge and heavy, inscribed with some characters that glowed faintly in the darkness.

The door was not shut, merely ajar, revealing a narrow slit through which a dark blue light seeped.

Helmod jumped down from his horse, tethered Sleipnir to the stone pillar before the door, pushed the door open, and entered.

The palace interior was vast, vast enough to make one's heart panic.

The dome was so high its top could not be seen, as if it led straight to the top of the World Tree.

Along the walls at intervals were set iron lamps, their wicks twisted from dead people's hair, burning with dark blue flames that lit the whole palace like the deep sea.

The floor was paved with stone slabs, moss growing dark green in the cracks, soft underfoot like stepping on rotting flesh.

Haila sat upon the throne.

She was taller than Helmod had imagined, more unsettling than the legends described.

Her body was split down the middle: one half the color of a living person—fair, delicate, healthy, supremely beautiful; the other half the color of a corpse—bluish‑gray, desiccated, rotting, hideous to the extreme.

She wore a dark‑blue robe embroidered with the faces of the dead, those faces twisted and struggling on the fabric, voicelessly screaming.

Her hair was black, hanging to her waist, but the left half was silver‑white.

Her eyes: one blue, clear as a newborn infant's; the other black, deep and starless like a night without stars.

Leaning on the throne, one hand propping her chin, her posture languid.

Helmod stood before the throne, drew a deep breath, steadied his mind, and spoke.

"Haila,"

He said, his voice steadier than he expected: "I come by Aoding's command, begging you to return Bader and Nanna; no matter what conditions you set, we are willing to accept."

Haila did not rush to answer, merely gazing at him, her eyes sweeping over his face as if looking at something interesting.

Helmod stood there, back straight, gaze locked on Haila, not flinching.

The silence stretched on so long that Helmod thought she would not answer.

Then Haila moved slightly.

She raised her fair hand and gave a light wave.

In the shadows to the left of the palace, two glows lit up.

Soft light, warm, like the afternoon sun of spring.

Helmod turned his head and saw Bader and Nanna.

They sat on a long bench; Bader wore the white robe that had been burned by fire, now mended with fine stitches, the work of Fu Li Jia.

Nanna leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand placed on the back of his hand.

Their faces were peaceful, no pain, no fear, just sitting quietly as if waiting for something.

Helmod's eye sockets instantly reddened.

He took a step forward, then stopped again.

"Bader, my brother—" his voice choked, but he held it in.

Bader lifted his head, looked at him, and smiled.

"Helmod, my brother, how did you come here?"

"We will rescue you." Helmod said:

"Certainly."

At that moment.

"Now, listen to me."

Haila opened her mouth, her voice very light, as if coming from far away, yet also as if it rang directly inside the mind.

Helmod turned his head and looked at her.

"I don't need any of the conditions you offer."

Haila said, a faint smile lifting the corner of her mouth: "Since you say everything loves Bader."

"Then—if you can make everything weep and mourn his death, I will return him, and his wife, to you."

Helmod's heart sank.

Helmod knew what that meant.

"If you can't," Haila continued:

"then they will honestly become a part of my dead realm."

Helmod's brows furrowed:

"Is that your condition?"

"That's my condition."

Haila rose from the Throne.

Her movement was slow, like a painting slowly unfurling.

Her robe dragged on the ground, rustling, and the embroidered faces of the dead on the robe twisted and deformed with her motion, mouths opening silently.

She turned and walked toward the depths of the palace, her steps neither hurried nor slow; the pale half of her foot stepped on stone slabs without sound, the bluish‑gray half stepped on moss, also without sound.

"Haila—" Helmod called out.

"We agree!"

Haila did not look back.

Her figure grew farther and darker, finally vanishing in the shadows deep within the palace, as if swallowed by darkness.

Only the dark‑blue flames kept burning, the pale bone wall kept glowing, and the damp moss continued to spread beneath her feet.

Helmod stood where Helmod was, clenching Helmod's fist.

Helmod turned and looked at Bader and Nanna.

Bader still smiled, as if comforting him.

Nanna said nothing, simply leaning quietly on Bader's shoulder.

"Don't worry, we will definitely get you out. Wait for my good news."

Helmod finished speaking, turned, and ran.

Helmod did not wait for Bader and Nanna to answer, and fled the palace.

Sleipnir waited outside the gate, its eight legs digging the ground, its breath exhaling white mist.

"Go back!"

Helmod vaulted onto the horse, Helmod's heels striking the horse's belly hard; Sleipnir whinnied, its eight hooves tossed, and it galloped wildly toward Asgard.

The wind howled in his ears, the roots of the World Tree receded on both sides, and the glowing moss and fungi were flung far behind.

And just after he left,

deep within the palace.

Haila looked at the unexpected visitor, her smile suddenly deepening a few more points.

She licked her lips and said:

"You also came to save them, right?"

"If you can bear a child with me who carries your bloodline, I can also let them go."

"How about it?"

Yu Lin: ".............."