Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

The two had been expectant, but that didn\'t stop the barbarian from ridding this world of their presence. Instead, moments after their murder she was reminded of her own children and decided to check on them through the magic mirror she\'d bought from Kara–the wandering fortune teller.

\'Her shop must be near, I should buy some weapons when I run into her again.\' Given the fact that the high priestess only appeared to those lost or around regions of corruption, Helga was looking forward to meeting her and purchasing a few magical items. \'Or maybe a souvenir for my daughter? But I don\'t really want them to experience magic just yet.\'

Deep in thought, a knock on the door slipped her attention, but as someone continued to bang on it louder and louder, Helga was pulled out of her trance and turned to the door. Conjuring a weapon, she set her feet to the ground and carefully made her way closer to the door.

"Set the weapon down you, hot head," Said a familiar voice from the other end of the door.

Shocked at the voice, Helga\'s body froze up on the spot. However, quickly pulling herself out, she reached for the door handle and opened it to the sight of her immortal friend standing on the other end of the door.

"You look like a skeleton…" Still confused by his sudden appearance, she stood there glaring at his face.

Letting himself in in the meantime, the man going by different names shut the door behind himself. Then while standing in front of the scowling barbarian, he held his arms open as if inviting Helga to hug him.

"Oh fuck off!" Instead what he received was an oncoming punch towards his face, but before Helga\'s fist made contact he leaned his head to the side and barely managed to avoid it.

Her fist, however, kept going and dug a hole into the wooden door. Pulling her hand back, she took a step away from the man and he took the chance to reverse time for the door and undo the hole in its frame.

"Nice to meet you too, Murdok\'s Valkyrie," he said, smiling.

Raising her spear, Helga placed its tip right underneath the man\'s chin.

"Say that again and I\'ll stuff your head in an orc\'s ass," no longer fond of gods, she didn\'t want to be associated with any of them.

Heaving a tired sigh, the immortal placed a hand on his forehead and shook his head from side to side. He was too tired to deal with Helga\'s hostility and yet putting on a smile, he looked at her and assured.

"Sure thing," bowing politely, he let out a chuckle. "Lead the way so we can talk."

Although still a bit skeptical about him, Helga let down her spear and directed him to the table she was sitting on a minute ago. Walking up to her own chair, she had him pull one up beside him before asking him to clarify something.

"So that horrible writing on the note was from you?" She asked.

"Horrible?" Jerking his body back into the chair, he acted as if he was immensely hurt by her sharp words. But even so, leaning forward again, he had the same sarcastic smile as before. "Come on, you know I never learned to write officially. Unlike someone here, I was no daughter to a renowned Valkyrie but rather a simple foot soldier after all."

"A foot soldier who killed a god…" Leering at him, Helga wanted him to drop the dramatic act already. "Where the hell have you been, Razor?"

The very mention of his name shunted his thoughts. It had been nearly a century since he\'d heard someone call him by his real name. He\'d almost forgotten that he even had one and that was the reason why he passed around false names for himself.

"Home," once his mind was done soaking his identity back into itself, Razor lifted his gaze and looked right into Helga\'s eyes. "I was going home but then I heard Athenia had blessed a chosen so I decided to give her city a stop. But before getting there a lot happened, and now I just wanna head back to my home after who knows how much time has passed."

The kingdom of man–of humans alone, that\'s where Razor used to live and Helga knew that fact. But if rumors were to be trusted, the kingdom rested at the edge of Atlaris past every inch of land on this world.

"The land where the world ends…I doubt you can get back there," Helga said, and unfortunately Razor couldn\'t help but agree.

"I know, still I\'m trying to clear a path through the darkness to get back there even if that means spearheading through the corruption and the lands of the demon generals," a master of time manipulation he may have been, but at his core Razor was but a warrior, one that fought battles of attrition and only won by tiring his opponent through his countless deaths.

"Then why are you here? Talking to me?" Helga asked, confused about his decision to make her a visit.

With a chuckle and a smile, Razor looked at her again.

"I just wanted to see the hero\'s party in action, plus to ease their heart about this demon lord general," and with those words, Razor began to explain all that he knew about the White nun, from the fact that she couldn\'t fight the party herself to her deal with Gara as well as how Isaac would help them get rid of his brother if they can approach him somehow.

Once the explanation was over, the immortal man wasted no time to get off of his chair to head, but before he could leave Helga asked him one last question.

"Heading home again?" She asked, and he looked back at her from over his shoulder before responding.

"Yeah, I\'ll try as many times as it takes. Always worked to defeat my enemies so who knows maybe with enough failure I\'ll succeed after all?" Much like Mono the iron sorceress, Razor too carried in him a gift of fables.

\'The undying human spirit.\' Helga pondered over the gift that made the most vulnerable species on Atlaris, one of the most resilient as well.