"Did we really escape?"
On the transport ship's bridge, Amora looked at Asgard, now nearly invisible behind them on the screen, and asked Loki beside her in a daze.
The God of Deception stood with his hands behind his back, his usual wicked grin on his face. He gently shook his head. "This is only the beginning. Every one of us is connected to Yggdrasil. Unless we can leave this universe, no matter how far we physically run, Ragnarök will still affect us. That's why I made a deal with Mephisto."
"So every one of us has to die once?" Amora's gaze slowly shifted to the unconscious Thor beside them. She even swallowed nervously. "You're not lying to them, are you? Like, they can't come back after they die?"
Loki chuckled and winked at the Enchantress. "You, me, and Thor are guaranteed. But when you ask Demon Lords of Hell for help, you have to give them something in return, don't you?"
As he spoke, his eyes shifted toward the prisoners behind them, who stared at Amora with infatuated expressions like puppets.
The implication was obvious: these people's souls were the bargaining chips. There had originally been three or five thousand prisoners pulled from the prison. More than ninety percent had been sent to the battlefield, leaving only one or two hundred who had boarded the ship with the two of them as "emergency rations."
But that should be enough.
Amora immediately broke into a smile. She coyly patted Loki and said, "You're so clever. Thor is really lucky to have a brother like you. I'm so jealous."
"Heh. When my foolish brother wakes up, you'd better say that to his face too."
Loki happily accepted the woman's teasing. Amora really knew how to talk. Yes, he was the best