Hela's promotion to goddess-king was a bit surprising, yet not all that unexpected.
After all, Hela was of the God-Emperor's line. Her grandmother was the current God-Emperor Thalos's aunt.
A bit distant by blood, but still imperial lineage.
Investing Hela was also a repayment for all the great service Loki had rendered the Aesir over the years.
Loki instantly grasped what was going on: he'd earned plenty of merit and caused plenty of trouble, leaving a lot of old-guard Aesir gods disgusted with him. Thalos couldn't promote Loki; the favor had to be counted toward his smartest and most capable daughter.
Though it didn't look the part, for a pure-blood frost giantess like Hela, this was already the highest reward she could receive.
With not a trace of affectation, Hela stepped out and knelt to Thalos with sincere devotion.
"I am infinitely grateful to Your Majesty the God-Emperor. I shall serve Your Majesty and Your Majesty's line with my life."
It was also the branch house's oath to the main house!
Not easy at all!
As a child Hela had been reviled for her looks; it was Thalos who pointed out the path ahead to her, and his rotation system spared her from being stuck day in, day out as that terrifying half-zombie, half-goddess monstrosity. Now, with Ailei, Skaha, and Anubis as three chief aides, her work was actually lighter.
This was the exchange she had to pay to set Thalos at ease.
After so many years of diligent labor, she had finally broken through!
How could Hela not be moved.
Hearing the "hiss hiss" of a great serpent from the edge of Asgard's land outside the temple, she knew it was a blessing from her second brother, Jormungandr.
"Second Brother, I'll come find you later."
"Hiss hiss! (All right.)"
Hela's promotion gave hope to more gods as well.
If they won against the Greek world, the Ginnungagap world would be a much bigger pie—able to accommodate more god-kings, Major Gods, true gods, and even lesser gods.
Time to push harder!
Off to the side, Athena caught Artemis reflexively touching her still-flat belly; Athena couldn't help thinking she'd joined the Aesir a bit late. If she'd been captured first, she might already be carrying a god-child.
The speed of this shift in her thinking surprised Athena herself.
Thalos's generous rewards to the gods were very much by the book.
By comparison, things were far livelier in the Greek world.
Once the spatial corridor closed, the first to get antsy was Odin.
Seeing Zeus temporarily reconcile with his mortal enemy father Kronos, Odin seemingly cringed and sent a mortal envoy from Troy to Kronos.
So the envoy wouldn't be crushed by the other side's divine might, Odin considerately gave him a small talisman.
"Most exalted God-Emperor Kronos, I bring to you the sincere blessings and regards of God-King Odin." With one line delivering full emotional value, the envoy made Kronos feel light all over, as if even his soul had floated up into the sky, sublimated.
"Heh-heh-heh! Odin's little envoy can talk. He's put his heart into it!" Kronos laughed heartily, waved for his wife Rhea to bring wine, and granted the envoy a seat—placing a human-sized chair atop a hundred-story-high platform (really just a bald mountain peak hacked flat by Titans), where he could sit quite comfortably.
That's the art of words!
Like back on Thalos's pre-transmigration Earth: when greeting a "deputy director," as long as the actual director isn't present, remember to address him as "Director," and don't add the extra "deputy."
Odin knew full well Kronos's ambition wasn't small and that he was an arrogant sort. Before sending him off, he repeatedly instructed the envoy to flatter Kronos and lay it on thick.
Kronos had been locked up for so many years, full of resentment; after breaking out, he had thrashed Zeus but hadn't won outright. His anger was far from spent—especially seeing Zeus go from god-king to "self-styled" God-Emperor. How could he swallow that?
The envoy's opening line had Kronos blooming with joy.
With that solid start, the envoy's tongue blossomed like a lotus, continuing to butter Kronos up—saying how miserable Odin was, how for saving Kronos he'd been hunted by Zeus's god-kings, forced to blow up a small world to resist Zeus's accounting; at the end he begged "His Majesty God-Emperor Kronos" to shelter him.
So abject were the envoy's words, so sincere his feeling, that not only Kronos, but the other Titans listening were deeply moved—while cursing Zeus as no good.
The Titans weren't fools; some had half-guessed that Odin might be fanning the flames. But without Odin, the Titans would still be in Tartarus under torment!
That favor—whether or not Kronos wanted to repay it—at least kept him from feeling ill will toward Odin.
Then this: Zeus had actually come after Odin to settle scores. The envoy added fuel, saying Zeus had continued sending gods to secretly reconnoiter after reaching an agreement to partition the Greek world with Kronos—wasn't that a slap in the face for "God-Emperor" Kronos?
Kronos could stomach much, but Zeus going after his "God-Emperor Kronos's" underling Odin over this—intolerable.
Seeing Kronos already bristling, the envoy played the finisher: "My lord Odin does not wish to disrupt Your Majesty's family harmony. He only hopes that, in view of the hardships you weathered together in Tartarus, Your Majesty might give him a hand if Zeus moves to punish my lord Odin."
"Rest easy! If that little cur Zeus dares make trouble for Odin over this, I'll slaughter Zeus's whole family!" Kronos thumped his cliff-like chest with booms like landslides, the thunderous sound making the envoy quake.
Uh—slaughtering Zeus's whole family would include you, Kronos, wouldn't it?
The envoy didn't dare correct the malapropism; he kept smiling and thanking him, shouting, "Ten thousand years to the great God-Emperor!" and took his leave.
Kronos, his divine heart greatly comforted, even permitted the envoy to select a few mortal women from his domain to take as slaves. The envoy didn't stand on ceremony and immediately picked the governor of Alexandria's eldest daughter…
What Kronos didn't expect was that no sooner had the envoy left than he looped around to the ruins of Athens—already leveled by Ares—to seek an audience with God-Emperor Zeus.
Naturally, Odin's envoy had no standing to see Zeus.
A divine attendant led him to Hera's temporary palace, where he faced a mass of radiance.
Look not upon a god!
Hera's blazing divine light nearly blinded the envoy.
"Speak quickly—what is it?" The vast divine might didn't crush him at once.
Under immense pressure, the envoy managed: "My lord Odin is under the protection of His Majesty Kronos. To attack my lord is to tear up the 'non-aggression' pact with His Majesty Kronos."