Chapter Thirty-Nine: Freya’s True Identity

Freyja’s little tricycle hadn’t gone far before she was expelled from the Bronze Hall. Because of her youth and the shocking manner of her arrival, the people of the Bronze Hall were at least polite, courteously “inviting” her to leave.

Freyja was furious, gesturing and scribbling frantically to express her urgency. Just as the standoff reached its peak, a golden divine beam descended from the Celestial Palace above, a ribbon of light stretching from the Palace of the Golden Warriors straight to the Bronze Hall.

As the radiance faded, a young maiden in silver helm and armor walked forward with measured steps. The chill of her armor could not conceal her elegant figure. Her face was partially obscured by a fragment of armor, but even with her features hidden, anyone who saw her would know she possessed a face of unparalleled beauty.

She was bathed in holy light. Even with her aura drawn in, a sense of awe emanated from her.

“Goddess…”

“Goddess…”

At the appearance of the maiden in silver helm and armor, all the chosen ones stood and bowed deeply before withdrawing in unison.

Within the Sixth Divine Palace, there was only one whom people would call “Goddess” with such reverence—Athena.

She walked slowly to the entrance of the Bronze Hall, with Freyja on one side of the threshold, herself on the other.

“Athena, sister,” Freyja wrote these words on her board, trying to ingratiate herself, her dirty little face forcing a hopeful smile.

Athena cast her a cool glance; those words did nothing to bridge the distance between them.

“Freyja, are you aware of your own identity?” Her voice was equally remote.

Freyja wrote on her board, “It was not Freyja’s fault.”

Athena looked at her impassively, saying nothing.

Freyja’s courage faltered, and she dropped her head, writing again.

“Let Aran enter the Sixth Divine Palace, and Freyja will willingly admit her fault.” She looked at Athena with expectant eyes after writing this.

But Athena’s veiled face grew colder.

“Freyja, I can already see you treading his path once more. You are a fruit born of taboo—do you intend to create yet another?”

“No temple will accept the chosen one you favor,” she said coldly, turning away.

Freyja was stunned. Seeing Athena about to leave the Bronze Hall, her anxiety deepened. She abandoned her little tricycle and ran to Athena’s feet, falling to her knees with a thud and knocking her head on the ground three times. Though she feared pain and kept her bows light, she still raised a sizeable bump on her forehead.

“Leave. What you ask is impossible,” Athena said, transforming into a golden beam that soared to the sky, vanishing into the Celestial Palace.

Freyja stared blankly at the heavens, feeling wronged and afraid, but now she could think of nothing except to move Athena through sheer persistence.

The chosen ones of the Bronze Hall soon returned to their martial and magical training, only to be astonished by the sight of Freyja kneeling stubbornly at the entrance. Around her neck hung her drawing board, on which she had written, “Athena, sister, please let Aran enter the temple. Freyja is willing to accept punishment.”

She knelt there like a little clay idol, and soon her knees ached unbearably, but she refused to rise. The chosen ones watched with pity; some spoke on her behalf, others tried to persuade her, but it was useless. Athena remained unmoved by Freyja’s stubbornness, and Freyja would not stand.

Noon came, and as the chosen ones ate their midday meal, Freyja remained on her knees, exhausted and starving. A few kind-hearted chosen ones brought her food and water, but she resolutely refused, ignoring her hunger.

By dusk, she had not taken a single bite or sip, and Athena still did not appear. Tears of grievance streaked down her dirty cheeks, leaving two muddy tracks that made onlookers sigh in sympathy, unable to understand why she persisted to such lengths.

As the sun set, Freyja cast a final glance at the Celestial Palace, realizing Athena would never allow Ye Ran into the temple. If she didn’t hurry to the seaside now, she might miss Poseidon, God of the Sea, and lose her last chance.

When she finally stood, her legs were numb. She wiped her tears with a grimy sleeve, said nothing, and pushed her tricycle to begin a new journey.

She hadn’t gone far before she stumbled and fell, then staggered onward toward the sea.

Two hours passed. The Bronze Hall was about to close its doors when a bicycle with a large crossbar hurtled up the mountain path, trailing a cloud of dust.

“Wait! Don’t close the door!” Ye Ran shouted, pedaling furiously and waving his hand. Wang Li sat on the front bar and Lin Yuan on the rear seat; both wished they could bury their heads in the earth for shame.

They swore they had never been so embarrassed in their lives.

The two chosen ones at the gate stared, dumbfounded, as the wild bicycle sped to a halt at the hall’s entrance. A cold-faced youth in a white shirt braked sharply and blurted, “Hey, brother, have you seen a little girl—about this tall, very small, mute, with a drawing board around her neck?”

Ye Ran gesticulated anxiously.

The gatekeepers understood, nodding. “She was here, but she’s left—went that way.” He glanced at Ye Ran and asked, “Brother, did you really ride this… over that mountain?”

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t believe it: first a master rolling over mountains on a tricycle, now a man pedaling a bicycle as if it were nothing, with two passengers no less…

Ye Ran replied, “Yeah, what’s strange about that? Which way is that? It seems familiar…”

The chosen one said, “That path leads to a mountain road, and beyond it is the sea governed by Poseidon. I suppose the little girl has gone to find him. Sigh, I don’t know why, but she knelt here all day, insisting on getting some ‘Aran’ into the temple…”

“What?” Ye Ran’s heart clenched. He grabbed the man’s collar, demanding, “What did you say? She knelt here all day?”

The young chosen one was startled, grasping Ye Ran’s hand. “Yes, yes, calm down, calm down, let’s talk…”

“Damn it! Who was she kneeling for? Athena?”

“Yes—yes…”

“Damn it, that blasted goddess, that little fool…”

Ye Ran let go of his collar, furious, and jumped on the bicycle, pedaling furiously down the mountain road, splattering mud over the chosen one, who stared after them in a daze.

Ye Ran’s heart was in turmoil. The sun was sinking, and the mountain road was growing dark. The cries of apes and tigers echoed from both sides, making him uneasy.

“Ye Ran, faster—the night is falling, and this road is dangerous,” Wang Li urged, frowning. “Both sides of this ridge are hunting grounds of the Hunter Tribe, especially the western Boundless Ridge and the Ghostly Path—those are their gathering places. Let’s split up: Lin Yuan will head for the Poseidon Sea, while you and I take the Boundless Ridge shortcut.”