I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 472: [Event] [Elven Utopian War] [14] Freya's Eccentricities



"What do you think about becoming my slave?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"..." I froze, my fork hovering midway to my mouth, and stared at her in disbelief.

"What?" I managed to utter.

Freya leaned back in her chair, a playful smile curving her lips. "You heard me," she said as if it was a normal request. "I want you to be mine, Loki. My protector, my confidant, and yes... my slave."

I take back everything good I thought of her.

She was as screwed in the head as Alvara!

I carefully placed the fork down on the porcelain plate. "With all due respect, Your Highness," I said, forcing my voice to remain neutral, "I don't believe that was part of our arrangement."

Freya chuckled. "Oh, Loki, you intrigue me. You carry yourself like a warrior, yet you possess the grace of someone who's accustomed to being admired. You're clearly hiding something, but I don't mind secrets-so long as they belong to me."

"I don't think you understand...I am here to protect you, not to serve as your property."

Freya's smile didn't falter, but the room seemed to grow colder. "Do you really think you're in a position to refuse? You're under my roof, wearing clothes provided by me, and eating food from my table. The guards barely tolerate your presence, and if I so much as suggest you're a threat, you'll find yourself in chains-or worse."

I clenched my fists beneath the table. She wasn't entirely wrong. The uneasy stares from the castle staff and the soldiers' hostility were clear indicators of my precarious position. Maybe while I was taking my bath she ordered something from her guards.

But I couldn't let her manipulate me so easily.

"You're mistaken if you think I'm so easily cornered, Your Highness" I said evenly. "I don't belong to anyone, and I don't intend to start now."

"You're bold, I'll give you that," she said. "But boldness can be dangerous, Loki. Especially when it's misplaced. Arrogant women doesn't go far without status and strength."

I AM NOT A WOMAN!!

Seeing me grimacing, Freya sighed and waved a hand dismissively. "Fine," she said, a hint of amusement returning to her tone. "Consider it a jest, if you like. But you'd do well to remember your place here, Loki. You may not belong to me now, but circumstances have a way of... changing."

Hell no!

I am not a masochist!

I had underestimated her, foolishly thinking her outward beauty was all there was to her. But as they say, never trust first impressions.

I really thought she was a good one... Guess I was wrong.

"I will keep that in mind," I replied, ambiguously.

Freya's lips curled into a smile that could have felled an army. "You should. Beauty like yours belongs at my side. You've earned that place, Loki."

"That's... a rather unique goal, Your Highness," I replied, the faintest edge of skepticism creeping into my voice.

"Unique? Hardly." Freya leaned forward, her golden eyes glowing. "It's the only fitting goal for someone like me. I am the most beautiful woman in this world. It is my right to claim anything I desire-no, everything I desire. The world itself owes me for gracing it with my presence. Surely, Loki, you understand this truth?"

Her words, steeped in narcissism, struck me speechless for a moment.

What do you even say to that?

"Yes..." I finally managed.

She was surely arrogant and audacious but no matter how much I hated to admit it-her confidence wasn't entirely misplaced. She was breathtaking. A woman like her could inspire wars and crumble empires, all with the curve of her lips or the sway of her hips. Yet, it didn't sit right. Why had fate seen fit to bless someone like her with this kind of power?

[<It isn't fate. She's simply the spitting image of Freya.>]

'Huh? Really?'

[<Yes, except a few details. Even her personality mirrors the Freya of old.>]

'By 'personality', you must mean a narcissistic complex on a scale no one could imagine.'

Cleenah's silence felt like agreement. Still, it was undeniable. Freya's beauty was the kind of thing that could ignite kingdoms into chaos. Her mere presence seemed to confirm that even the mightiest of warriors could fall under her spell.

Just imagine Jayden here would be quite a sight.

Anyway...

I tried to refocus my thoughts, only to notice something peculiar. The people around us- whether guards, servants, or even the courtiers milling in the distance-all bore golden marks on their faces. Each mark pulsed faintly with a mana that felt like Freya's.

What is this?

'Don't tell me...'

[<Exactly what you're thinking, Edward. Those are Freya's marks of ownership.>]

'You're joking.'

[<I wish I were. She brands those she considers hers-body, mind, and soul. It's only a matter

of time before she carves that mark into you too.>]

The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine.

'I am not a masochist I said!'

Anyway...

She did enslave them then?

But they didn't seem as miserable as, say, Ron, for example. Don't tell me they're all...

masochists?

[<Getting chosen as a slave personally by a princess or a goddess herself was considered an honor, even in my era. That sentiment hasn't changed.>]

'Honor?'

What the hell?

The thought only made the whole thing seem more absurd.

"That doesn't change the fact that only a masochist would willingly get enslaved just to be near a

beautiful woman. No matter how gorgeous she is.'

Then, a new thought struck me, and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

'Wait, don't tell me you have that kind of fetish as well?'

I love you, Cleenah, but there is no way I'm wearing a collar for you...

[<I-I am not into that kind of thing! It's Freya! She's the twisted one!>]

She quickly retorted in fluster and I could practically see her blushing in embarrassment.

'Hm? Though, if I recall correctly, when I first met you, you were bragging quite a lot about being the

Goddess of Beauty.'

[<I merely stated the truth! But I would never stoop to Freya's level!>]

Hearing her spirited defense reassured me more than I cared to admit. Maybe I was being too harsh on her. After all, Cleenah truly was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. If

anyone had the right to brag, it was her.

"Don't be so wary of me, Loki," Freya's voice interrupted my thoughts. Her gaze locked onto mine as she forked a piece of apple and lifted it to her lips. Slowly, sensuously, she bit into it,

the act a performance in itself.

Was she doing this on purpose?

[<Of course she is. She's trying to seduce you. It's easier for her to worm her way into your thoughts that way. Be cautious-she's extraordinarily skilled at this sort of thing.>]

'I can see that...I'm already feeling drawn to her, and I can't even tell if it's because of some spell she's casting... or if I'm just genuinely attracted to her as a man.'

It wasn't like I was immune to such feelings. I was scumbag enough to admit that, even with two incredible wives-Persephone and Layla-I had found myself drawn to Celes, without talking about the others. Maybe it was possible I could feel the same toward Freya.

But this easily?

It felt different.

Dangerous, even.

[<...>]

Cleenah had fallen strangely silent after my words. I'd expected her to respond with her usual quick wit or perhaps some explanation, but she remained quiet.

Was it about something I said?

It was almost as if she were... upset. Choosing to redirect my focus, I turned my attention to Freya. "If I remember correctly, you're trying to enslave me, Your Highness," I said, keeping my tone polite, though a hint of

sarcasm slipped through.

To my surprise—or perhaps not-Freya simply giggled, amused.

"I don't think of my slaves as 'slaves'. You've seen them yourself, haven't you? I consider them my precious collections. None of them are unhappy. In fact, they're all overjoyed to serve me. I give them everything they could ever desire. The only price is that they remain by my side. Tell me, Loki, isn't that a deal with everything to gain?"

'Collections?'

What the hell?

Anyway that Goddess really gave 'birth' to two twisted women. One shared a dangerous

penchant for sadistic indulgence, with her casual cruelty and penchant for burning people alive. The other one, her Twin Soul was a narcissist consumed by her own beauty, obsessed

with collecting people like trinkets.

[<In that aspect, Layla, Milleia, and Seraphina aren't so different, you know?>]

Cleenah's sudden intervention caught me off guard.

'Right...'

Those three weren't entirely normal, either. All of them were tied to Raphiel in one way or another. Layla, of course, was the most intimately connected, being her Twin Soul. Now that I thought about it, Seraphina might have been the most 'normal' among them, but that wasn't saying much. Layla, for one, didn't lack for sadistic tendencies-especially if I recalled her villainous route. She might seem calm now, but that was only because I kept her

that way.

As for Milleia... well, she was another kind of anomaly altogether. Her kind heart and good intentions couldn't mask her extreme methods. There was something unsettling about the way she could maintain a gentle, innocent smile even while doing things that were, frankly,

far from normal.

It was unsettling because it reminded me of someone a lot...

Or maybe I was just overthinking it.