A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 420 - 409: The Goddess

[Location: Realm of Iofiel]

The space had suddenly changed for the General.

One moment there had been oil, advanced structures, and frozen cadets.

The next—

Light.

The world glowed with radiance. It was not blinding or too harsh, but instead pervasive. An illumination that seemed to rise from the ground rather than descending from any sun.

A boundless field of luminescent flora stretched across an endless horizon. Each petal glowed softly in hues of blue, gold, and violet, their glow small but constant. The air carried a tranquil warmth, a tempered comfort that pressed gently against the armor he wore.

"Welcome to my realm." The voice was different now, clearer and closer.

Grimm turned.

Behind him, standing amidst the glowing field, was a far more radiant figure than the cadet form she had worn before.

She was beautiful in a way that felt unreal. Long, silken hair of gold spilled down her back in waves, catching the light, making it seem more radiant. Her features were refined beyond mortal symmetry, sculpted in perfection. The gentle smile she carried was beautiful and composed, and her pale-blue eyes glowed ever so faintly.

Atop her brow rested a golden circlet. She wore a gown of light cream, the fabric flowing, embroidered with thin threads of gold. Behind her unfurled a pair of vast wings, feathers pure as snow and pristine to the point of improbability.

She was radiant in a way that left little room for interpretation.

She was divine.

"I shall once again introduce myself," she said, her voice soothing and resonant, carrying no strain despite the open horizon. "I am the Goddess Iofiel, sovereign and sole divine authority of Álfheimr." She paused just long enough for her words to settle. "And I have chosen to speak with you personally."

"Who?"

Grimm’s interruption was immediate. His helmet turned slightly toward her, there was no reverence in his posture and no shift in stance.

The Goddess stilled.

It was subtle, but her smile tightened just slightly at the edges before smoothing again into composure.

"Surely even someone from beyond our realm has heard whispers of me," Iofiel replied, her voice maintaining its gentle cadence. "But perhaps not," she allowed graciously. "You hail from elsewhere, after all. It would be unreasonable to expect universal knowledge of my domain." Her wings flexed faintly as she folded her pale hands neatly before her, fingers interlaced with grace. "But as I said, I am the sole Goddess of Álfheimr," she continued. "Its protector. Its arbiter. Its architect in many respects. The balance of this realm rests upon my discernment."

A faint tilt of her chin.

"It is a very important role. One that demands exceptional power and unwavering wisdom."

The words could have been boasting.

Yet her tone was so light that it felt like simple clarification.

("Iofiel?") Grimm repeated the name internally. There came a flicker of recognition. "Ah," he said aloud after a short pause. "The fairy mentioned you. I recall now."

Her smile grew by a fraction, as if pleased.

"Ah," she echoed gently. "My reputation does tend to travel ahead of me. Such is the burden of being a radiant and benevolent presence." She exhaled softly, as though embarrassed by her own excellence. "But I dare not boast," she added smoothly. "Though at present, you are no doubt in awe that a Goddess stands before you."

Silence answered her, Grimm did not move.

The field continued to glow around them, petals swaying in a wind that did not touch him.

A self-proclaimed Goddess stood before him.

And yet there was merit to the title, he could feel it. Instinct, once honed, did not misinterpret pressure. And his instincts were not whispering, they were screaming in warning. It was as though an impossible density of power had been compressed into a humanoid frame. The only other being who compared to this individual was little Alice.

And even then—

Grimm could not determine the scale, power manifested differently. Alice was chaotic in potential. This Goddess was precise.

("Puck did mention this Goddess would want to speak with me,") His thoughts moved steadily, unaffected by the radiance. ("Given what I did. Breaking those ’laws’ by unintentionally traversing realms.") He flexed one gauntleted hand slowly. ("So this is not courtesy.") His helmet tilted slightly. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Still as ever, Grimm’s thoughts never lingered too long on one subject.

Behind the dark visor of his helmet, his eyes shifted—not toward Iofiel, but past her. Across the vast field of foreign flowers stretching in every direction. Blues bled into violets. Gold glowed softly between them, and the air carried layered scents—sweet, bitter, and sharp at the same time. Some carried a mineral undertone, others smelled metallic, as though they had grown beneath foreign skies.

There were species here he had never seen before.

Petals shaped like spirals, blossoms that emitted small pulses of light in slow intervals, and stems that curved unnaturally, as though responding to something other than gravity.

His gaze lingered.

Iofiel noticed.

"I enjoy collecting different flora," the Goddess said smoothly, as if the topic had always been waiting. "It is a personal indulgence of mine." She walked a few steps through the glowing field, fingers brushing lightly over a cluster of violet blossoms that brightened at her touch. "I collect them from various realms and preserve them here," she continued. "Each one is, of course, carefully chosen. And each one is sustained in ideal conditions."

A lift of her chin.

"An easy feat with my near-boundless power." She paused, her smile softening into something falsely modest. "I am not boasting, of course. It is simply a reality one grows accustomed to when one bears my responsibilities."

Grimm folded his armored arms across his chest. "Collecting from various realms?" he repeated evenly. "The fairy mentioned there were laws preventing that."

"Ah," Iofiel replied, nodding lightly. "The Divine Principals." Her pale-blue gaze drifted across the horizon of her realm, as though she herself had drafted the concept. "They are firm laws," she explained, her tone patient. "Foundational restrictions placed upon realms to protect their stability. They regulate interference, limit reckless traversal, and prevent lesser beings from destabilizing existence through ignorance." She turned back to him, wings shifting. "However," she added gently, raising a dainty finger as if clarifying a minor detail, "for very powerful, benevolent, radiant, and awe-inspiring deities such as myself, certain exemptions apply."

Her smile brightened.

"It would be irresponsible to deny the most capable among us the freedom to act where necessary." A slight pause followed. "But do understand—this privilege is reserved only for the greatest of Gods."

Her expression remained serenely composed.

"I am not boasting," she added again, almost reflexively.

Grimm was quiet for a moment.

"I see," he murmured.

His helmet turned slightly toward a cluster of golden blossoms that seemed to hum beneath the surface.

("Divine Principals, exemptions, and privilege reserved for the greatest.") He wondered—not idly—if there was a hierarchy among Gods. A structure or ranking. If Iofiel answered to another, or if she stood alone as she claimed.

Power rarely existed without tiers.

Still, he did not press.

Even the General knew better than to chase every line of inquiry in front of a being who radiated divinity. He shifted his stance slightly, sabatons pressing deeper into the soil.

"I gather," he said calmly, redirecting his focus back to her, "you called for me for a reason."

Iofiel’s smile widened.

"But of course," she replied. "A Goddess such as I does not summon someone across layers of reality without purpose." She stepped closer, the flowers bending in deference to her movement. "Untainted," she said, her voice lowering slightly. "I have chosen you."

Her words were still so soothing, yet Grimm did not react outwardly.

"Chosen," he repeated.

"Yes." Her wings extended slightly. "You are not bound by the structure of realms," she continued. "You crossed into mine without divine sanction. You resisted my initial illusion faster than anticipated. You stand before me now without kneeling, without trembling and without the usual... awe." A faint smile. "That alone makes you exceptional."

He tilted his head. "Exceptional is a subjective assessment."

"For mortals, perhaps," she replied. "For me, it is always a precise measurement." She clasped her hands lightly behind her back. "I have observed countless beings across innumerable cycles. I know potential when I see it." Her gaze sharpened, the benevolence thinning just enough to reveal pride beneath it. "And you possess it in abundance."

Silence stretched between them.

"You speak as though I am an asset," Grimm said.

"It is but an opportunity," she corrected gently. "For greatness and refinement. A great advantage."

"For you," he corrected.

"No. For you," she amended smoothly.

"And what," Grimm asked evenly, "does being ’chosen’ by you entail?"

Her smile returned to full warmth.

"Guidance," she said. "Protection from missteps that could fracture our laws. Direction, should you require it." She tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps even elevation." The word lingered. "I have the authority," she continued, pride threading through her soft tone, "to nurture power. To ensure it does not become wasteful or destructive."

"And if I prefer neither nurturing nor elevation?" Grimm asked.

Her wings shifted once.

"You misunderstand," she said gently. "I am not imposing." A small pause followed. "I am offering benevolence." The flowers glowed steadily around them as if responding to her.

Grimm’s arms remained folded.

"I tend to prefer autonomy," he replied.

"And autonomy," Iofiel answered smoothly, "is safest when overseen by wisdom greater than one’s own."

There it was again.

Humble.

And not at all.

Her pale-blue eyes held his.

"I have chosen you," she repeated softly. "Because you stand at the edge of something significant. And it would be a shame—truly—to let such promise go unguided."

The field remained tranquil.

But beneath the warmth, the General felt something else.