{Chapter: 356 The Gatekeeper Falls And Taking Advantage of the Fire}
"My Sif," William said coldly, stepping forward as the air around him trembled with energy. "Your brother wants to kill me. There's no other choice… but to let him die."
Sif's eyes widened in fury. "You can't! He's my brother!"
Without another word, William pushed her aside—not roughly, but with enough force to clear his path—and strode forward with casual dominance, his steps echoing against the cracked marble of the battlefield. "Come then, Heimdall. Show me the might of Asgard's great gatekeeper."
Heimdall, ever stoic, tightened his grip on his gleaming blade and lunged without hesitation. "For Asgard!"
Steel met steel—but not in the way Heimdall intended. His sword crashed into William's shoulder with the force of thunder, yet instead of cleaving through, it sparked like a dying flame against hardened green gold metallic skin. William didn't even flinch.
"You disappoint me," William said with a smirk. "This? This is all the strength the all-seeing gatekeeper can muster? You're barely stronger than that wasted thunder boy, Thor."
Snarling, Heimdall tried to pull back his blade, but William caught it with one hand. The tension crackled in the air as William's fingers closed around the divine metal.
A sickening crack echoed through the battlefield—Heimdall's sword snapped like dry wood.
"My sword…" Heimdall muttered, disbelief etching across his face as he stared at the shattered weapon in his hand.
William chuckled darkly. "It's just a toy, broken like your pride."
Heimdall roared in defiance, discarding the ruined weapon and launching himself at William with fists blazing. He fought with the precision of a warrior who had lived a thousand years, his strikes guided by instinct, discipline, and rage. But William moved like smoke, like time itself—his body a blur, his form flickering between reality and shadow.
"Too slow," William whispered mockingly into Heimdall's ear as he sidestepped another punch.
With a sudden flash of motion, William retaliated—his fist rocketing forward like a missile. The impact landed squarely on Heimdall's chest, a thunderous shockwave rippling outward. Heimdall flew backward like a ragdoll, smashing into a massive stone pillar. It cracked and crumbled, collapsing around him in a heap of rubble.
William stood there, arm still extended. "The next punch," he said calmly, "will send him to Valhalla."
"No!" Sif cried, rushing to Heimdall's side. Her battle-hardened heart trembled as she knelt by his broken form.
Heimdall groaned, blood dripping from his lips. "I'm fine," he lied—before vomiting another mouthful of blood into the dust.
Sif cradled his head in her arms, her voice softer than a whisper. "You were always protecting others… even from the one I could never forget…"
William reappeared in front of them like a phantom, his eyes glowing with an unnatural brilliance. "Heimdall," he said, tilting his head. "You once guided gods across the stars. It's only fair I now guide you to death. You won't suffer. I promise."
"You are not allowed to kill him," Sif said, rising to her feet with her sword drawn, eyes full of fire. "I won't let you."
William laughed coldly. "Then give me one reason not to. One good reason."
"Because… because…" Sif's lips trembled. She didn't understand it herself. She had hated him, despised him—but a part of her had always… remembered.
"I'm waiting."
"Because I—" she gritted her teeth, fighting the words, swallowing the pride that had sustained her for centuries. Her voice broke as she said, "Because I agree to marry you. That makes us family."
A heavy silence fell.
William blinked… and then burst out laughing, a wicked sound that echoed through the sky. "Hahaha! You really said it! Oh, Sif… what happened to the proud warrior goddess of Asgard? Marrying your enemy to save your brother? Is that your idea of honor?"
Sif flushed with rage and shame. "What are you laughing at?!"
But deep inside her chest, something ached—an old feeling, born from the days when she admired William's strength…
Jane, who had stood silently nearby, stepped forward now. Her eyes glistened, not with tears, but something deeper—conviction. She stood beside William and wrapped her arm around his. "You won't kill him, will you?" she whispered, her voice tender. "Not because of her… but because of me."
William looked at her, and for a moment, his expression softened. The dangerous gleam in his eye faded, replaced by something almost human. "You always know how to calm me," he said, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Jane smiled, gently placing her hand on his chest. "You're not a monster. Not to me."
Sif trembled as she knelt beside Heimdall once more, her pride shattered, her heart divided. She hated William—everything about him. But why then did her heart twist when she saw him kiss Jane's forehead, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the universe?
She clenched her fist, blood dripping from her palm.
He was the enemy… wasn't he?
His head turned as he looked into her eyes. "You dare use such a flimsy excuse?" William's voice echoed in the ruined place, his tone laced with disdain as he turned to face Sif. His eyes narrowed with cold amusement. "You agreed to marry me once—was that just a ploy? Did you think I wouldn't see through your act? Family? Hah. You and I were never meant to be family. We are war and fire, not home and hearth."
Sif's jaw clenched. Her knuckles whitened as her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Yes!" she shouted, fury and shame flaring in her eyes. "I admit it. I married you to find your weakness—to get close enough to kill you."
A smirk tugged at William's lips, cold and knowing. "How noble of you. But how tragic. Because now, you know the truth: you can't. You'll never be able to kill me, Sif." His voice dropped to a whisper laced with triumph. "Not because you're too weak. But because a part of you… doesn't want to."
Sif's eyes trembled, just for a breath of a second—then hardened. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, voice low, trembling between wrath and despair. "Will you let my brother go?"
William shrugged theatrically, placing a hand on his chest with exaggerated flair. "What do I want? That's such a hard question. So many choices, and I hate being predictable." He leaned forward, his voice darkening. "I enjoy watching the mighty fall. Especially when they wear pride like armor."
"You're vile," Sif spat, disgust contorting her regal features.
William raised an eyebrow, sighing. "Yes, yes, I've heard it all before—monster, tyrant, devil. But I'm also the man with your brother's life in his hands."
He turned and strode a few steps away, arms folded behind his back. The light glinted off the dark metallic weave of his armor. "Fine. I won't kill him... this time. But understand this, Sif: if anyone dares touch what is mine again, there will be no warnings. No mercy. Now listen closely..."
He turned back sharply, his voice thunderous. "From this moment on, you are no longer of Asgard. You will sever every tie. You will follow me. Obey me. In all things."
Sif's breath caught in her throat. Her nails dug into her palms until they bled. Her voice trembled not with fear—but with rage. "William, I swear—I will hate you for the rest of my life."
He laughed, spreading his arms. "Hate me, then! I feed on it. Your hatred is delicious. But hate doesn't change the reality. What's your choice, Sif? My patience wears thin—and your beloved brother's life is a thread I can snip at any moment."
She hesitated. Her whole frame shook with the force of her restraint.
"Sif, no!" Heimdall, bloodied and half-conscious, raised his voice through broken breaths. "You can't... don't give in. I would rather die than watch you bend to him. To abandon who you are."
Sif looked at her brother, pain overtaking her strength for a brief moment. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't let you die."
"Let me die!" Heimdall rasped, coughing blood. "Our pride is not for sale!"
William rolled his eyes and groaned theatrically. "Enough already—this melodrama is exhausting. Sif. Three seconds. Choose."
Sif's eyes locked with William's. Cold. Resigned. But somewhere beneath the loathing… a flicker of something deeper. Unspoken. Mournful.
"I agree." Her voice rang out clearly, with all the steel Asgardians were known for. "From this moment forward, I sever all ties with Asgard. I will follow you. Obey you. And hate you, every single day."
Heimdall let out a broken cry of anguish. "No... Sif..."
William smiled, stepping forward and cupping her chin with gentle, mocking affection. "Congratulations. That was a very... mature decision. But let's be clear—this isn't just a vow. If you ever defy me... Heimdall dies. I always keep my promises."
Sif pulled her head away violently, face carved from cold marble. "You won't need to remind me. I keep my word, unlike you, a vile and vulgar creature."
From the side, Jane stepped into view, her boots crunching on debris. Her eyes burned with emotion as she stared at William. "You really are a devil," she said, voice shaking. "I've never seen someone manipulate so cruelly. Even Sif... doesn't deserve this."
William turned toward her, and something in him softened. The steel in his expression cracked, revealing something warmer—something Jane saw.
"I do what no one else dares, Jane." He moved closer, brushing a lock of her hair from her cheek with surprising tenderness. "If I don't become the villain, who will carry the weight of the world's ugliness? "If I don't become a devil, who will be the devil? Everyone wants to be a good person, everyone wants to be a hero. Who will be the villain? I am the only one who can do this." William's tone was full of deep pride.
"Okay, you have made a great sacrifice." Jane said speechlessly. She didn't move, torn between anger and affection. "And you carry it all yourself, is that it?"
"For any of you?" William whispered, his fingers gently stroking her jaw. "I would carry every sin. Every burden. Because loving you makes me want to protect you from this cursed world."
Her breath caught. Even after all this time, he still had that effect on her. She hated it—and she loved him even more for it.
"You're impossible," she murmured, resting her forehead against his. "And I love you anyway."
He smiled, one that only she ever got to see. Soft. Real. "That's why I'll never lose."
But the moment was broken.
"ROAR!!"
A monstrous bellow thundered through the sky as the cursed warrior, Algrim, burst through the blackened halls, flanked by a host of dark elves. Their red eyes glowed with madness and hatred, and the very air warped around their cursed presence.
William stepped forward, his romantic warmth vanishing, replaced by the commanding presence of a warlord. "So they've finally come..."
Jane looked out over the approaching swarm, her heart racing. "The cursed warrior... he's real..."
Sif's lips parted as she watched the enemy descend. Despite everything—despite her vow, despite her hatred—she instinctively stepped closer to William, her warrior's instincts overriding her loathing.
"I thought you said you had everything under control," she muttered bitterly.
William cracked his neck, dark lightning beginning to dance along his fingertips. "I do. This is just the opening act."
With the death of the Mangog, Asgard's warriors were decimated—more than 90% gone, the golden kingdom's legendary army reduced to ashes. The palace walls now echoed with the approach of the enemy, the thunder of doom.
Sif's eyes narrowed. Jane grabbed William's arm.
And William smiled—a devil's grin.
"Let them come," he said. "We'll show them what devils and broken angels can do together."