"Wonderful!" Vol said happily. "That bastard died well!"
"Yes! Died well! It's just a pity he died too late!"
Dying now isn't bad either. Better dead than not dead!"
"Yes, exactly! Better dead than not dead." Justice God Jormungandr laughed loudly. Then his avatar within the Pantheon stood up, coughed twice to clear his throat, and shouted in a voice so thunderous it was nearly deafening—loud enough to ensure that every deity in the Pantheon could hear him perfectly clearly.
"Everyone! I have good news for you!"
He paused briefly, then raised his voice even further and shouted, "The God of Conspiracy is dead!"
His words echoed through the Pantheon. Other than that, there was utter silence.
After a moment, one deity stood and asked, "Are you... joking?"
"How could I be?" Jormungandr snapped. "Is my credibility really that bad? When have I ever made a joke?"
"But... but... how could that bastard... possibly die?"
"He is definitely dead. Dead beyond doubt. I can be sure of it," Jormungandr said.
"Did you destroy him?"
"No."
"Then which great Majesty destroyed him?" The deity clearly intended to get to the bottom of things.
Jormungandr frowned again and said impatiently, "Why are you asking that? Are you planning to avenge him?"
"No!" The deity immediately shook his head. "It's just... back then, I swore an oath: whoever destroyed that bastard, I would be willing to become their subordinate god and serve them..."
Only then did Jormungandr understand. After thinking it over, he said, "That one... doesn't need any subordinate gods."
"That one isn't a god, but an ancient demigod, right?"
"...Honestly, prying into that one's affairs won't do you any good." Jormungandr sighed. "In any case, the God of Conspiracy is dead—dead beyond any possibility of being deader, utterly and completely. Whether