CHAPTER 9
The Opening Act of Evil
It all began with a scream more ghastly than any that came before.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!!”
The throat-tearing scream of an innocent townswoman. As she and others tried to flee, they were shot with poison-tipped arrows, or burned to ash by fireballs so that not even their tears remained.
The perpetrators of these vile acts were the minions of evil in their uniform robes. They were like cultists enacting a dark ritual. A ritual to call to earth their forbidden god and revel in the destruction it wrought.
“I-it’s the Evils!!”
Screams rang out. Explosions thundered. Lifeless bodies fell to the ground, to be trampled by the blood-soaked boots of their killers. Sparks flew, and dark shadows danced. Evil approached its zenith.
Vito stood in the center of a burning street, flanked by corpses.
“Now come, one and all,” he said. “The stage is set, the curtains flung wide.”
The corpse of an elf, his face still twisted in a mask of terror. The body of a dwarf impaled against the wall, his blood splattered across it. An animal person mother and her daughter, their lifeless hands still intertwined.
Vito surveyed the carnage and smiled. He walked down the street alone, his smart boots clacking against the cobblestones.
“Thus ends the performance of peace…and the start of our own,” he said, gesturing theatrically. “Evil’s opening ceremony, as my god would put it.”
He threw his arms wide, his voice approaching song.
“Now, sing for me! Dance! An opera of death! And enjoy it, for I most certainly shall!!”
He stepped out onto the main street to find it overcome by chaos. Everywhere he looked, terrified townsfolk ran for their lives.
“A banquet of blood none can possibly resist! Ah-ha-ha…AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!”
The ringing of his blade preceded a fountain of blood, and the streets were bathed in the vivid colors that Vito admired most.
Meanwhile, on Adventurers Way in the northwest of the city, the lobby of the Guild headquarters was awash with sound as panicked townsfolk swarmed the doors. Overworked receptionists shouted to be heard over the din.
“Reinforcements requested in district six! Evils agents spotted carrying out attacks! Skirmishes ongoing in districts one, two, and four!”
“Reports of casualties keep coming in! We can’t keep up!”
At the center of it all stood Royman, who barely had it in him to utter a word.
“Wh-what’s going on? What’s happening out there?! It’s like a war! Here, in glorious Orario of all places!”
The sweat dribbled from his flabby chin. Suddenly, his face paled, and he shuddered.
“I-it can’t be…”
Atop a burning building, Valletta stood and watched the panic-stricken streets below.
“It’s time for the feast! Let’s hear some dyin’ screams!”
“N-no, stop! Please!!”
An animal man begged for his life. His attacker, another man of the same race, had lost his entire clan and grown resentful and wicked.
“Die, you ignorant sinner! Die, Orario!”
His victim’s screams couldn’t convince him to stay his arm. The knife in his hand kept stabbing until the cries stopped.
Meanwhile, an innocent prum girl was about to discover just where fate could lead.
“Help meee!”
“Let my body become a flame that returns all to ash!!”
His eyes crazed, the elf’s hand didn’t waver for an instant as it reached for the detonation switch. Both he and the prum girl, along with anyone else in the vicinity, were utterly vaporized by the blast.
“I-it’s you—! Gaaagh!!”
There was no justice here. Only the strong would survive. Olivas’s merciless fist had crushed an adventurer’s skull like a ripe berry. His comrades-in-arms froze, their courage drained, as the silver-haired man reveled in his own darkness. He licked his bloodstained fists and smiled greedily. Then he descended on the startled lower-class adventurers, snuffing out lives as if in pursuit of some grand philosophy.
“Now, do it,” he said, turning to his followers. “Bring true despair upon Orario.”
“““Yes, sir!”””
His loyal soldiers fell upon the now defender-less citizens.
The screams and yells were far too numerous to count. Fear mixed with murderous anger. A raging hellfire consumed all, living or not. Bodies lay by the wayside, smoldering. This undignified cremation left nothing behind but ash.
Then, even those ashes were caught up in the chaos, scattered to the four winds. The roars and wails of the city were like the howls of a living beast, one that permitted no memento of the fallen to persist.
“Ahhh, music to my ears!” sang Valletta, in merry contemplation. “I’ve been dreaming about this day for so, so long!”
There was no madder scene than this. People dying in the streets. An unending anthem of death. The march of chaos, freed from the shackles of law. The Evils followers reveled in violence, unhindered by morality.
However, they never doubted for a second the justness of their cause. They had all lost things, precious things, to the illogic of this cruel world. To them, they were simply victims, empowered to commit the most heinous acts imaginable in the name of their justice.
“How beautiful! How humorous! How hideous these people truly are!”
These were the words of evil gods, who pointed and laughed as Orario burned. They saw now the true face of humanity, of the mortal world. These foolish, imperfect children knew full well that murder was a sin but were content to repeat the same mistakes forever.
“They cannot escape it!” they cried. “These are the bounds of right and wrong! For what are good and evil but two sides of the same coin?”
They chuckled and clapped their hands, conveniently forgetting they were the ones who created this chaos to begin with.
“Either come down and join us or shut the hell up!” Valletta sneered. “I ain’t got time for your oh-so-clever pronouncements! I got a slaughterhouse to run!!”
The woman shared in their joy, if none of their philosophy. She couldn’t care less for the lives and fates of mortals, except when their blood fed her blade.
Nothing made her heart race like breaking the most ancient of taboos. Nothing could be more depraved. Purpose and ideology were meaningless, fit only as kindling for the bloodlust that flared in her eyes.
A horrifying and fiendish smile crawled across her lips.
“I won’t let a single one of you escape! Townspeople, adventurers, gods—I’ll kill you all!!”
She addressed her pronouncement to the paling Royman. To the innocents who ran in terror. To the heroes who scrambled to defend them. And to the various gods who watched on with concern.
“This is a showdown,” she said. “Between you…and us!”
Now it was evil’s turn to thrive. It was time for killing, looting, and pillaging.
The screams didn’t stop and neither did the explosions. The townsfolk were too consumed by sheer terror to even grieve as one fell after the other.
“Ah…ahhh…”
Lyu stood alone, unable to process what was happening. Her sense of righteous anger drew her to this place, but now that she was here, she wasn’t capable of anything more than a weak and broken moan.
“Waaaaagh!”
“Not that way! Quick, come over—”
To her right, a panicked human man ran, only to meet his end on an assassin’s blade before Noin’s frantic voice could lead him to safety.
Behind her, she heard a female voice, calling for aid.
“Help me! Oh gods, please help me!”
Lyra’s voice urged the woman to follow her.
“This way, hurry! Get to the center of the city and you’ll be al—”
Then an explosion engulfed the poor grief-stricken woman.
“Dammit. Dammiiiit!!”
Lyra cursed the heavens. And the rest of Astrea Familia fared no better. No matter how fiercely and bravely they fought to protect the townsfolk, their lives spilled through their fingers like grains of sand.
A little girl stood in the street, crying over the loss of her parents.
A merchant trapped under rubble screamed for help, before going silent.
Order was falling apart and chaos quickly filled the gaps. The peace Lyu had fought so hard to uphold was coming undone so quickly. The city was bathed in red, but by now it was impossible to distinguish what was blood and what was fire.
Every turn of her head revealed more horrors. The hellish scene took over her mind. Lyu was overcome by despair, and she wailed. It was then that someone grabbed her by the collar, and an open palm struck her across the cheek.
“Don’t just stand there, you incompetent fool!”
“K-Kaguya…?”
The human woman arched her well-trimmed eyebrows and roared in Lyu’s face. “Draw your sword and fight! We cannot be indecisive now!”
Lyu recovered a trace of sanity, but it was still fear and confusion that commanded her.
“B-but…Th-this…I-it can’t be happening! I’ve never witnessed such cruelty!”
It had all gone too far. The innocent young elf could scarce believe what she was seeing. Never had she faltered in her quest for justice before seeing the tragic acts of evil on this wretched day.
“Well, get used to it, fool! You can’t let despair control you!!”
Kaguya had no time for Lyu’s complaints. She pulled, squeezing Lyu’s collar tighter and bringing their heads close enough to touch, before bellowing into those wide, sky-blue eyes.
“Don’t think! Just move! Fight! Saving even one life is worth it!” Then, fighting to control her tears, she added…“Or else…it’ll be just like Ardee all over again!!”
That name, and the feelings behind it, caused Lyu’s eyes to flare wide. Emotions roiled out of her chest, washing away the darkness.
“Rgh…!! Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!”
Her grip tightened around her wooden sword, and she flung herself at the attacking Evils. Lyu gave herself over to her emotions, slashing wildly alongside Kaguya’s blade.
The roaring fires knew no peace. The embers of war filled Orario, and the metallic rhythm of clashing swords rang out in every direction. Adventurers fought bravely against the Evils followers, who had become warriors of death.
“There’s too many of them!” shouted one. “Where are they coming from?”
“The chain of command is down!” barked another. “What do we do? Protect the citizens or advance on the enemy?!”
“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know! What are we supposed to do?!”
It was all they could do just to survive. Many of them were completely bewildered. No matter how many of the Evils they defeated, more kept coming. They crawled out from every crevice, waiting to ambush an adventurer and go out in a blaze of glory. The forces of good had no room to breathe, let alone work out what was going on, and the chaos and panic gripping the townsfolk was no help.
They had no idea where to focus their efforts. No means of communicating with others in the field. They weren’t even members of the same familia. These were just soldiers separated from their comrades and linked together by a common fate. All they could do was swear at each other.
A human archer who managed to keep the mad bombers at bay with his arrows. A half-elven swordswoman who mixed magic with keen slashes, and a stalwart beastman sentinel.
It was amid their warring words that a calm, clear voice rang out, cutting through the fire and chaos.
“Stay calm, children,” it said. “Lest your fear spread to those you seek to protect.”
“I-it’s you!”
“The goddess of Astrea Familia…!”
She appeared before the adventurers, her long walnut hair flowing behind her. A goddess had set foot on the battlefield, her unspoiled beauty captivating men and women alike. She examined the adventurers with her deep blue eyes before offering guidance.
“Bring the people to the city center,” she said. “There will be people there with the wisdom and foresight to understand the situation.”
Her slender finger pointed to Central Park. Everybody in the vicinity froze and listened to her. Astrea spoke her divine will, loud enough that all could hear.
“You must be as a shield for the weak. Do not falter! And may the stars watch over you.”
“““Y-yes, my Lady!!”””
Like explorers beholding the guiding light of the pole star, the adventurers nodded. The lamp of hope had been lit once more. Encouraged, the adventurers began shouting to one another and swiftly divided themselves into two groups—one to escort the townspeople to the city center and another to stay behind and hold the line.
Astrea had managed to tip the scales slightly in justice’s favor once more. She smiled, and just then the footsteps of a second god came up behind her.
“You watch yourself, Astrea,” he said. “No god should be walking around a place like this without protection.”
It was Hermes, holding on to his hat to keep the fiery draft from blowing it away.
“And here I thought you liked to watch events from on high,” replied Astrea. “If it’s so dangerous for me to be here, then what are you doing here?”
She cast him the coy look of a playful big sister. Hermes shrugged and sighed.
“…Guess I’m the protection,” he admitted. “Besides, even Zeus would call me a failure if the world lost a beautiful goddess like you.”
He smirked but then soon cast aside his playful smile and turned serious.
“Besides,” he said, “this time I figured I’d take a leaf out of Ganesha’s book.”
All along the street, buildings were ablaze. The city was falling, and the screams were unending. It wasn’t hard to guess what Hermes was alluding to. His Arcanum sealed, and with nothing but his own two hands, he had been leading people to safety and gathering intel.
He was fighting alone, just like her. Astrea looked at him and nodded.
“Then we’re the same,” she said. “We wish to help our children and save as many lives as we can. Would you escort me?”
“…You must be kidding. I’ve often dreamed of a romantic walk with you, but never pictured it quite like this.”
His words were a joke, but his eyes were quite grave.
“Sorry, but all my children are busy. Us two could go missing in the fires of war and nobody would even notice.”
It was safe to say that right now there wasn’t a single familia in all of Orario with forces to spare. All adventurers had been sent to combat the Evils, and even noncombatants were working with the Guild, evacuating residents.
Even the other gods were providing aid from Ganesha, who stood at the forefront of battle, inspiring the people, to Miach and Dian Cecht, who opened the doors of their medical stores for anyone who needed it.
Hermes had abandoned his preferred method of sneaking away to conduct his investigations, but Astrea had made an even bigger break with habit, heading straight for the center of conflict instead of away from it.
Even for a capricious god, she was acting unusually. It was like she’d taken leave of her senses—or discarded them outright. It was only by chance that Hermes had spotted her, but now that he had, he couldn’t let her go.
But his words did nothing to break the goddess’s gentle smile. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “But here’s what I think. We may not be able to help our children directly, but we can at least show them the path.”
She closed her eyes and placed a hand to her breast. “Is that not one of the ways we can help our children grow?” she asked. “That’s why I have to go.”
Then she walked off, still smiling, as graceful as a tender lily, yet firm as she approached the next battleground.
“Really now,” Hermes sighed. “You and Artemis are birds of a feather. You never do what other people say.”
He watched the virgin goddess depart, a bitter smile on his lips. Then, before she was out of sight, he hurried after her.
The wailing, flame-wreathed pandemonium could not be contained on the ground. It rose, into the starless sky, to the very peak of Babel, the tower of the gods where Freya lived.
“…First, they ushered our greatest heroes into three separate locations. Then, once our forces were split, they sprang the jaws of their trap across the entire city, leaving us flat-footed and unable to respond.”
Unusually for her, she was out of her seat, standing by the large window pane set into the outer wall. Her silver eyes fell on the city below, and as she watched her beloved children fall in the streets, her ever-perfect brow displayed a sliver of worry.
From atop Orario, she surveyed the game board, and a rage brewed in her heart.
“We goddesses of beauty could intervene and end this war in an instant,” she muttered. “We could charm and neutralize the Evils’ children. But it seems our foe is determined to prevent that.”
Freya cast her eyes to a hill near Central Park. There, she spied a group of armed Evils soldiers, keeping a watchful eye on the gates of Babel.
They were there for her, Freya surmised. If she set one foot outside the building, she was as good as dead—or sent back to heaven anyway. She would be shot, or bombed, or whatever else it took. And even if the mortals got cold feet, the evil gods would do it personally. Freya spotted one of them, standing among the group: a goddess in heavy makeup. She noticed Freya’s gaze and grinned, sticking up her middle finger. Freya only returned a cold glare before turning her attention elsewhere.
In addition to the first squad, Freya spotted three others positioned on rooftops and more in the buildings and trees. Orario’s protectors were busy fighting in the streets and had neither the time nor manpower to spare in eliminating them.
It seemed the enemy had deduced the threat the goddesses of beauty posed and planned to deal with them accordingly.
Meanwhile, to the southwest of the tower, at the heart of the pleasure quarter, sat the brothel house Belit Babili, home to Ishtar, another goddess of beauty. She, too, had noticed the Evils surveilling her position.
“I suppose Freya also has no choice but to hide inside her shell,” she mused.
From her position in the home’s main hall, she could see the fires that ravaged the red-light district of Orario. No doubt Evils soldiers were already holed up in the nearby buildings, waiting to ambush her the moment she stepped outside.
She gave an annoyed frown and screwed up her face, before taking a puff from her long pipe.
“I hate to let those flies keep me locked up,” she growled, “but as it stands, there’s no reason for me to take risks. All I have to do is wait for Freya to lose her patience, then watch and laugh as she gets sent back to heaven in shame!”
Ishtar bore a burning hatred for Freya, considered by all to be the fairest in Orario instead of her. Her lips twisted into a smile as she imagined the goddess’s downfall. Then she turned and headed back into her home.
“Tammuz,” she said to the young human man at her side. “See to it that the area around our headquarters is thoroughly guarded. Tell the Berbera to keep any rats from sniffing around our borders. I don’t care what happens beyond them.”
“B-but, Lady Ishtar! If we do nothing, then Orario will…!”
“We don’t have time to care about anyone but our own,” Ishtar commanded. “Now, hurry up and recall our whores before the enemy make them their playthings. I will protect my own children, and no one else’s.”
“U-understood, my Lady!”
His attempt at advising his mistress callously demolished, Tammuz quickly carried out her demands. As cruel as they were, it was with careful consideration of the war and its direction that Ishtar came to her decision.
“We must not mistake foolishness for magnanimity,” she said. “I am no goddess of justice.”
To a god, returning to heaven effectively spelled the end of their familia. It wasn’t worth disrupting the delicate stalemate between Orario and its enemies. So while Ishtar knew it was precisely what the latter wanted, she ordered her followers to focus their efforts solely on self-defense.
“So Ishtar has holed up, too…I suppose it’s only natural.”
Freya looked down at the pleasure district, where Ishtar’s followers were shoring up the perimeter, and her eyes narrowed. It was clear that Ishtar wanted nothing more than for Freya herself to make the first move and, in doing so, invite her own destruction.
“The pieces on this board,” she said, “are quite ill-spirited…and unscrupulous.”
There was more than one battle taking place in Orario today. While their children fought for their lives in the streets, the gods were engaged in another game. Layers upon layers of strategy, so intricate that a single wrong move could spell a player’s end. The gods were forced to think long and hard about where to deploy their forces.
All of them, it seemed, except Astrea.
While everyone else guarded their pieces jealously, Astrea struck out fearlessly into the center of town, saving the lives of adventurers and townspeople in the process. Freya smiled as she watched her move through the streets, with Hermes following a short distance behind.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so determined…” she whispered. Such words of respect very rarely passed Freya’s lips.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a member of Freya Familia walked in.
“I apologize for disturbing you!” he said. “Please forgive me!”
The man kneeled before her. He was covered in blood, though whether it belonged to his friends or his enemies, none could say.
“We cannot prevent the Evils from self-destructing!” he said. “Their chaos is unstoppable! Please, give us your commands!”
Freya didn’t even look back at the man. Her eyes were fixed on the soldiers gathering at the tower’s base. “Recall your troops to…Hmm, no. Send them to Central Park,” she said. “Set up a formation. Loki’s children will be there, too.”
“Loki, we can’t keep taking losses like this! Every time we finish one off, they take us out in the explosion!”
Loki frowned as she heard her follower’s report.
“Dammit, they’re like livin’ bombs,” she grumbled. “It’s insane! Even I’d never stoop that low!”
Loki had relocated the remaining members of her familia from the Twilight Manor to Central Park. Her careful scrutiny of the battlefield had led her to surmise it was the clearest course of action, but even now there was little relief in her perpetual frown.
“I dunno how things can possibly get any worse,” she muttered, as the screams of townsfolk rang in her ears from all directions, “but I still got a bad feelin’ about this. Like everythin’ so far’s just been the openin’ act.”
The heat coming off the burning buildings caused Loki to sweat. It was at that time that a certain group of adventurers returned to Central Park, to scattered cheers.
“Loki!” one of them cried.
“Finn!” Loki replied. “You made it!”
She was overjoyed to see the safe return of her familia’s strongest members, but such joy lasted only a moment before she got straight to business.
“Where’s Riveria and Gareth?” she asked.
“I left half the force in their care and sent them south to strike back at the enemy,” Finn explained. “How goes the evacuation?”
“I called everyone I could here to Central Park,” said Loki. “Raul and the others came straight from the manor, and Freya’s kids are here as well.”
“Thank you.”
Finn looked around and saw that many of the townspeople from Babel’s first floor and its surroundings were gathered here, huddled together like refugees. There were far more than he had been expecting, thanks primarily to the level-headed actions of Loki, as well as Astrea and Ganesha Familia.
It was all but certain that some of these refugees were emissaries of evil—perhaps even evil gods looking to get close enough to one of their bitter foes to make an attempt on their life.
However, there was little Finn could do about that. He would leave the spy hunting to Loki herself—who was even now scanning the crowd with one eye open—and Freya. If there was a time the two could put their differences aside and work together, it was now.
“Let’s erect a perimeter around Central Park,” he said. “We’ll make our last stands here and at Guild HQ. I’ll take command of our forces!”
Finn was a truly brave hero. Though he knew the enemy was likely behind his lines already, he didn’t show a shred of weakness. His voice carried across the battlefield, making even the battered townspeople look to him as a beacon of hope.
He ordered his troops to take their positions. As for the lower-class adventurers, too weak to fight the enemy, he had them construct barricades around the border of Central Park, gathering broken planks of wood and empty ale casks to serve as fortifications. It was nothing pretty, but it would hold.
Just then, a subordinate came running up.
“Captain!” she said. “Explosions are getting louder in all directions! The enemy is closing in!”
“Hold fast! Don’t forget that training and experience is on our side! Allow the evacuees through the checkpoint while eliminating the suicide bombers! Hit them with fire magic or a magical sword, and their bombs will go off prematurely! Blow them up from a distance before they get too close!”
“R-roger!”
“If you don’t have a means of engaging at range, aim for their feet! Throw your weapons or whatever you can find! Go!”
When the lieutenants heard Finn’s words, it was like they suddenly had purpose and direction again. They ran off in all directions to relay his words to the soldiers on the perimeter.
“This park is our last line of defense!” he shouted. “Stand fast and protect the weak!”
“““Hurraaaaaaaaaaah!!”””
The adventurers all cheered Finn’s decisive words. His commands were swift and precise. It was everything the troops looked for at a time like this.
A good commander could make his army fight even harder. Finn’s guidance breathed new life into their flagging morale, preparing them to strike back against the Evils. The veteran adventurers, just barely managing to hold the line, found their energy restored. Turning their focus from defense to offense, they began to repel the invaders gathering on the border.
One group of adventurers on the front line was made up of the dwarf Dyne, the human Noir, and the Amazon Bahra.
“Now that Finn’s here, our formation is unbreakable!” shouted Dyne. “Look around; this place was like a wake a moment ago. Now everyone’s raring to go!”
“Yeah,” said Noir. “Honestly, the new generation is so capable, it makes me mad. He’ll always be a cocky little brat to us!”
“Ha-ha-ha!” Bahra laughed. “Well, they’re all cocky little brats; that’s what we love about them!”
These seasoned veterans were determined not to be outdone by Finn and the other rising stars and took out enemy soldiers one after the other. From the center of the park, Finn smiled. He could rest easy and leave the front lines under their careful watch.
“The first-tier adventurers and reserves from Freya Familia have been deployed to the northern part of the city,” he explained. “They have been tasked with defending Guild headquarters, along with the industrial district!”
Before arriving at Central Park, Finn had, at Loki’s suggestion, tasked Raul and the other lower-class adventurers with running messages between here and the Guild. Thanks to that, he had a good grasp as to the general state of the battlefield. He knew that members of Freya Familia had already set up fortifications, not only at Guild HQ but also to the northwest, in Hulrand’s Cathedral and other historical buildings nearby. That was where they were housing evacuees in those parts of the city.
Freya Familia had similarly entrusted the defense of Central Park to Finn and his associates. To put it one way, it was a sign of mutual faith between the two titans of Orario. To put it another way, it was an excuse for them to ignore each other entirely.
“They will not be sending reinforcements!” Finn continued. “If we are broken here, look for Hildsleif! He has command in the north!”
“Captain!” said a messenger. “W-we’ve received word from Hildsleif as if he knew you were going to say that! He says, ‘How dare you force all the responsibility onto me, you shameless prum! Go die!’ He sounds furious, sir!”
“I see! Well, I’ll certainly give my life if that’s what it takes! Tell him I pray for his success!”
“Maybe I’ve died already and gone to hell…” the envoy muttered, as he turned to run back the way he came.
The scale of this crisis had already grown to the point where Finn needed every spare brain cell to consider his options. To that end, he needed to delegate. And delegate he would.
This was no adventurer’s fight. Nor was it the cause of any individual god or goddess. This fight was for all of Orario.
“That’s Finn’s response? ‘I pray for your success’? After everything I said? Is this a joke?! Did you even deliver the message properly, you useless piece of excrement, or are you looking to meet a swift end at my hand?! Well, that can be arranged!”
“Eeeeeeeeek!! Don’t kill meeee!!”
In the northwest of the city, Finn’s messenger once again reported to Hildsleif, an elf with long golden hair whose real name was Hedin Selland. The elf was furious at Finn’s uncooperative response and was currently spouting all manner of abuse at the poor, helpless messenger.
“Do you know how many riffraff are stuck here that I’m now responsible for?! Perhaps this is difficult for you imbeciles at Loki Familia to understand, but all we have at Freya Familia are reckless, obnoxious dullards like our boar-headed captain! How in the hell does Finn expect me to hold a line when all of my sentries are incorrigible warriors with death wishes?! You know who’s going to have to clean up their messes, don’t you? It’s me! Me, you idiot, me!!”
Is he angry at us or at them?!
At rest, Hedin was so fair, casual observers might mistake him for a beautiful maiden. However, his face was so contorted by rage at the moment that not even the most myopic fool would make that error. The envoy was ready to wet himself in fear, but the petty tyrant’s constant bemoaning of his incompetent allies almost convinced the messenger to pity him. Almost.
Hedin was the main brain behind Freya Familia—perhaps the only one, for that matter—and so while the messenger, an animal man named Olba, sympathized with his plight, it was essential that he hear what Finn had to say.
“A-also,” he stammered, “Finn says to engage the suicide bombers only at long ran—”
“Struggle for eternity, indestructible soldiers of lightning.”
“…Uh?”
Olba had a confused look on face as the elf strategist finished his chant.
“Caurus Hildr.”
A blinding flash of lightning nearly seared the poor messenger’s retinas. He and Hedin were standing atop a steeple of Hulrand’s Cathedral, about a hundred meders off the ground. Hedin’s magic set a barrage of lightning hurtling toward the city below.
“Wh-wh-wh-what are you doing?!” he asked.
“Engaging at long range, you fool,” replied Hedin without looking at him.
“…Huh?”
“Once I surmised the enemy were all suicide bombers, I switched our tactics. I’ve been standing up here, and anytime the enemy gets close to this cathedral or any of the other churches housing evacuees, I let them eat lightning.”
Olba heard the distant screams of the Evils soldiers as Hedin’s electrical assault rained down on them. Hedin’s eyes were sharper than those of any forest ranger, thanks to his many Rank Ups, and even in the gloom of night, not a single foe escaped him. His lightning blasts ignited the bombs, taking out not only the suicide bombers themselves but any others in the vicinity by inducing chains of explosions that rolled the earth in thunderous hellfire.
This was certainly what Finn had asked for, but Olba could scarcely believe that Hedin was able to handle it all by himself. This was the sheer strength of a Level 5 adventurer.
“You’re always so painfully slow,” Hedin remarked. “Do try to keep up.”
Come to think of it, I did see strange flashes of light coming from the steeple…Olba idly thought while he wept at Hedin’s sour words.
The elf’s long-distance lightning strikes seemed more like a carpet of bombs, and Olba paled as he watched the destruction being wrought below.
“You might be able to fight them off,” he said, “but there’s going to be no city left if you keep this up!”
“The enemy outnumbers us,” came Hedin’s calm response. “We don’t have the luxury of choice.”
“Wh-what if there are people still trying to get away?”
“You want me to sacrifice the many we’ve saved for the sake of a few stragglers? Then you can be the first to die.”
Hedin dismissed Olba’s appeals. His unceasing bombardment was a merciless yet decisive way of keeping the enemy out.
“Besides, I’m still holding back,” he said.
In what way?! Thought Olba, right before a backward kick to the gut caused him to crumple.
“If it were up to me,” Hedin explained without looking back, “I would burn this whole city to the ground and make sure those blasted Evils have nowhere to hide.”
Hedin tutted and continued blasting his magic as the beastman messenger writhed on the floor behind him.
It was true that Hedin was not going all out. With his peerless control and accuracy, Hedin was making sure that collateral damage was kept to a minimum. But so long as he didn’t spot any of the evacuees Olba had mentioned, he would not hesitate because of the scale of destruction his attacks would bring. After all, if any survivors had the poor sense to flee directly into an area infested with enemies, they were as good as dead already. Hedin had decided to save those he could, while refusing to devote resources to those who were lost causes.
Finn surely knew this and had no intent to meddle. He and Hedin were two birds of a feather, pragmatic and calculating souls with no room for sentimentality. That was what made them both so adept at reading each other’s minds.
Suddenly, Hedin shouted down the spire.
“Van! Go and reinforce Hegni’s unit to the south! I can’t get a clean shot with all the spires and steeples in that area! Go on foot and eliminate the enemy!”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Van, the half-prum adventurer waiting below, reacted quickly and followed his new orders.
Hedin and the rest of Freya Familia were charged with protecting not only St. Hulrand Cathedral but also three other churches in the vicinity. All four of them were currently sheltering the terrified townsfolk, huddled in fear as more explosions ripped apart everything outside.
As ruthless as he was, Hedin was also proud, and he was determined to protect these four shelters to the death. So it came as some surprise to the still-reeling Olba when Hedin immediately began casting lightning at whatever he could see.
“Wh-what?! Isn’t that where you just told your allies to deploy?! Why are you aiming right there?!”
Olba had never seen anything like it in all his years with Loki Familia. Hedin, meanwhile, wondered if he ought to choke the life out of the beastman envoy and put a stop to his nagging once and for all.
“This isn’t enough to kill those idiots,” he said, almost annoyed at the fact.
“Gaaaaaaaagh?!”
Jet-black steel severed the soldier’s neck before he could set off his explosive vest. As his arms fell limply by his sides, a barrage of lightning came out of the sky and consumed him. Hedin’s spell caused a fresh chain of explosions, but the dark elf quickly and deftly wove through them.
“Man, this sucks. This really sucks. This is even worse than the battle of Heodenings. I never thought a war like this would come to Orario. Ugh, I hate war.”
He danced across the battlefield, not letting himself be caught in either the self-destructive blasts of his foes or the reckless onslaught of his allies.
His name was Hegni Ragnar. A Level 5 adventurer, same as Hedin, and his title was Dáinsleif. None in Freya Familia could defy the danger of Hedin’s spells as easily he did. Hegni fought ahead of them all, blending into shadows that even the flames of the burning city could not dispel. Any foes who evaded Hedin’s aim soon met their end on Hegni’s blade instead.
“I-it’s Dáinsleif!!”
“Gaaaaaagh!”
None were safe from his jet-black sword. Orario was nothing now but a battleground for wild beasts drunk on blood. These beasts were neither good nor evil; they were mindless, and so while Hegni was usually timid and reactive, today he felt no guilt in cutting them down. Trying not to look at the innocent corpses lining the streets, Hegni focused solely on hunting his prey.
“Is it only the north that’s like this?” he muttered to himself. “I wonder how things look in the south, where Ottar and Allen are. I don’t really care about them, but I hope Lady Freya’s all right. Oh, I just can’t stop worrying about her! It’s so scary!”
The cloak of night shielded Hegni from judgmental gazes, encouraging him to voice his thoughts out loud. It was then that a pair of high-pitched voices pierced the darkness.
“It’s okay, Hegni!”
“Give up your life, and you won’t have to think such worrying thoughts anymore!”
“Oh, here we go…”
He couldn’t bear their girly, squealing tones. He pulled up his collar, shielding himself from this filthy pair’s sight; they shouldn’t get to see the face that his beloved goddess had once called beautiful.
“Let’s turn his lifeless husk into a pretty little doll, Dina!” said one. “We can sit him next to my darling Hedin, too!”
“What a wonderful idea, Vena! I’m sure Hegni loves it, too! Oh, I love him so much, I just want to strangle him!”
“Careful, sister! You accidentally said how you really feel!”
“Oh, did I? Whoopsie! Aha-ha-ha!”
These sickly, singsong voices belonged to a pair of sisters whose hearts were black as tar. They both wore scanty robes like exotic dancers, and they each purposefully looked like the mirror opposite of the other.
One tied her hair in a single side bunch, the other two. One had fair skin, as pure and white as a newborn babe, while the other’s was dark and alluring like a forbidden fruit. However, no adventurer was fooled by their childlike appearance. All knew them to be a pair of carnivorous flowers who killed those unfortunate enough to attract their lustful gaze.
The elder of the two was Dina Dis, a white elf with golden hair, and the younger was Vena Dis, a dark elf with silver hair. Each bore a tear-shaped tattoo beneath opposite eyes. They clasped hands and laughed sweetly and innocently.
But their depravity was so base that Hegni refused to even consider them members of the same race.
“You’ve come…like I knew you would, Dis sisters.”
“Of course!” said Dina. “How could we turn down a magnificent party such as this?”
“We can’t be late!” added Vena. “We have to hurry and kill the two of you, or else the lives our god granted us would go to waste!”
The two sisters chuckled gleefully to each other. A wicked, unceasing laughter that chilled Hegni to his very core.
There were two groups considered extreme even by the Evils’ standards. One of them was Alecto Familia, of which Dina and Vena Dis were captain and vice-captain, respectively.
Broken was the only word that could accurately describe them. They were twisted pleasure-seekers, finding joy only in the pain and suffering they inflicted on their victims. They were up there with Valletta in terms of how many adventurers and innocent townsfolk they had sent to an early grave.
“Please stop following me around,” said Hegni. “Go bother Hedin; I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”
“We can’t!”
“That’s right, we can’t!”
““Because we love you two to death, more than anything else in the world!””
As much as Hegni hated to admit it, these two were his and Hedin’s archenemies. The sisters had been obsessed with them ever since the four clashed by chance and suffered a painful draw.
Hedin loathed the girls for the dishonor they brought his people, while Hegni was simply baffled by their bizarre words and actions.
For instance, they once told him:
“Hegni, we’re the real edgelords!”
“Yeah, our god told us so! That means you’re just a fake!”
““What a poser!””
Hegni hadn’t the slightest clue what they meant by that, but for some reason, their words made his blood boil, and Hegni found himself overcome with murderous rage.
He had lost track of the number of times he and Hedin had tried and failed to kill these two. Their strange personalities aside, Dina and Vena were both Level 5, among the strongest of any Evils fighter. In terms of height, they both measured somewhere in the region of 150 celches and resembled human girls of about fourteen or fifteen. Though, of course, they were elves, and in fact were older than Hedin and Hegni, who were both about seventy. Despite their cute and innocent act and appearance, Hegni knew the pair were more cunning and blackhearted than any he had ever faced.
“Hey, look, Vena! Hegni’s not such an edgelord today!”
“You’re right, Dina! How strange! That must be a good omen! It must mean this paradise is going to go on forever!”
I should have just used my magic, thought Hegni to himself as he pulled up his collar once more. He had hoped that fighting in the darkness would mean that he didn’t have to endure people’s gazes, or that these two sisters would find something else to obsess over in this large, city-scale war. No such luck on either count, it seemed.
I don’t suppose they’re going to give me time to don the Warlord’s Mask now.
Then again, perhaps it wouldn’t matter for these two. Hegni found that, despite his usual crippling shyness, he had no qualms speaking plainly with these two girls. Not because he was especially close to them, but because he didn’t care one bit what they thought of him.
“Fine, let’s do this,” he said. “I kill you, and I never have to see either of your faces ever again, filthy sirens.”
In Hegni’s eyes, the two of them didn’t qualify as elves. They were something else—something monstrous.
As soon as he said it, the two sisters dropped their smiles, and their eyes opened sickeningly wide, boring holes into Hegni’s soul.
““Don’t call us that word,”” they said in unison.
“We are elves, whether you like it or not,” said Dina.
“What’s the difference between us and the others, huh?” asked Vena. “You’re just a meanie! A big, mean meanie!”
Very rarely, as if in bitter spite of the nobility of the elven race, a twisted individual of unmatched darkness would be born. The Dis sisters were two such examples: a cruel trick that nature chose to perpetrate against their kin. They were therefore a pair of living contradictions, beings obsessed with the purity of their race yet unable to meet the standards of it.
Hegni didn’t know what the two girls had been through in the past as a result of this. Persecution? Oppression? Ostracization? Were these two young girls desperately trying to suppress their true natures, lest they break down completely?
Hegni didn’t know. But nor did he care. He had no pity for their lot.
Because it didn’t matter what they were before. It didn’t matter their tragic past or noble motive. These sirens were responsible for untold death and destruction. That was all that mattered.
““Die for us, Hegni! Along with Hedin over there!””
Hegni had but one wish: that tonight would be the night he finally severed his bond with these two sisters. With that wish in mind, he unleashed his magic and sent his sword hurtling toward them.
“Not them again.”
“The psycho sisters, Freya calls them.”
“They’re not even that edgy.”
“I really feel sorry for Hegni and Hedin having to deal with them all the time.”
Standing in a line a short distance away were the four prum quadruplets, the Gulliver brothers. While the rest of the squadron gasped and looked over in awe at the battle unfolding between Hegni and the Dis sisters, the four who comprised Bringar only muttered in silent pity.
The location, toward the south end of district seven, was at a crossroads surrounded by many historical buildings. Here Alfrik, Berling, Dvalinn, and Grer had just finished eliminating the enemy rank-and-file. This was a spot that Hedin couldn’t see from his vantage point, and thus the ground squad had needed to engage the enemy on foot. However, the main skirmish was now over, as evidenced by the bodies lying at their feet.
Hegni had encountered the sisters at the end of one of the four streets leading off from the intersection. The four brothers glanced in that direction, then turned around.
““““So, who are you lot supposed to be?”””” they all asked at once.
Their four sets of eyes were directed toward what looked like about a dozen adventurers. There were humans, animal people, and dwarves, all of whom looked fairly robust. Many of them were tanned, but otherwise they were a rather diverse group, both in terms of race and in terms of weaponry. There was one point, however, that they all had in common.
They were all wide-eyed and fitted with some kind of gag, literally champing at the bit and frothing. It was clear to see that not one among them was sane.
“Hurgh…Huuurgh…!!”
“What’s up with these guys?”
“Gross.”
“They’re out of their minds.”
The beastly groans that their mouths emitted caused the four brothers to take a step back in fright. All except Alfrik, that is.
“Looks like the Evils are back to their old tricks—pumping adventurers with drugs and cursed items and using them as their expendable pawns.”
“Expendable?” came a voice. “Perish the thought! These are our finest warriors.”
The voice came from a sturdily built animal person standing at the rear of the pack. He was past middle-aged, with a long beard, and wearing a priest’s habit in black and purple. An unsettling, gleeful look dominated his eyes, and in his hand he held a blood-soaked cane.
Despite his priestly appearance, however, the old man was far from benevolent.
“It’s you. Apate’s lapdog.”
“Basram.”
Apate Familia boasted the strongest forces in the Evils, on par with Alecto Familia. The four Gulliver brothers glared at the head priest with all the hate they could muster.
The cruelty of their order hardly bore mentioning. In fact, Freya Familia had already killed the captain, vice-captain, and all notable lieutenants in previous battles. Now Basram was forced to stand on the front lines. It just went to show how far the group had fallen.
However, judging by the old priest’s words, the faction wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.
“What do you mean, finest warriors? Explain yourself, Basram, or die where you stand.”
But the old man just chuckled. “Ha-ha-ha. I fear you will kill me either way. But don’t worry, you shall see what I mean soon enough.”
He smiled, and the horde of fighters took up battle stances, eager to draw blood.
“You sniveling worm.”
“This mad rabble won’t stop us from crushing you.”
“This day will mark the end of Apate Familia.”
The three younger Gulliver brothers all spat insults and drew their weapons. Great hammer, greatax, and greatsword were all ready to go. Only Alfrik, spear in hand, seemed reluctant to engage.
If these are really his finest warriors, he thought, then why haven’t we seen them before? Why didn’t they show up when we took down the captain? And something else is bothering me. I feel like I recognize their faces…
His watchful eyes scanned the enemy lines. “Don’t let your guard down,” he said to his overeager brothers.
Off to the northwest, another battle raged. Streaks of lightning lit up the bloodred sky, and the air was filled with thunderous booms, not from the suicide bombers but from magic. If one strained their ears, one could almost make out the sounds of clashing steel. It was a battleground no less fierce than the one taking place in the center of the city.
Several people watched from afar. One of them, an Amazon, hoisted up the greatsword she had just used to cut down a foe and saddled it on her shoulder.
“Wow, things are really heating up. Say what you want about Orario; at least it never gets boring.”
She possessed radiant good looks and an enviable figure, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail. All of which did nothing to detract from the fearsome image given off by her supple yet toned arms and fiendishly heavy weapon—almost as tall as herself.
On what little fabric comprised her outfit was emblazoned the crest of her faction—Ishtar Familia.
She was surrounded by other Amazons, all of whom looked to her for guidance.
“What now, Aisha?” an ashen-haired one asked.
The Amazon—Aisha Belka—sniffed derisively at the question.
“That’s obvious,” she said. “We leave the pleasure quarter in search of our next battle.”
“But Ishtar wants us to head back and protect our home.”
“Yeah, and? We’ve only just joined. She can’t expect to order us around like that.”
Aisha and the rest of her band were somewhat lowly fighters, even within their own familia. Of all the Berbera, they numbered among the weakest. There were plenty of stronger warriors, like the toadess Phryne, so it wouldn’t matter much if Aisha’s group went off to play on their own for a while.
At least, that was the childish excuse Aisha told herself so that she could continue indulging herself.
“You made sure all the wounded returned to base, right?” Aisha asked.
“Of course. The brothels are safe, too.”
“Then let’s go, Samira! Let’s have some fun! Even in the deserts of Kaios, I never found enemies as crazy as these!”
The Berbera under her command all let out a roar of approval and rushed into an unsuspecting gang of Evils soldiers.
Elsewhere in town, a forge’s high smith came running over to the commander in charge of defending the area.
“Captain Tsubaki!” he cried. “The adventurers are demanding more magic swords!”
“Then let ’em have ’em!” the commander replied. “Swords are meant to be used, aren’t they?”
She then swung her own magic sword at a wave of charging suicide bombers, engulfing the entire front rank in flames.
“I know they’re effective against the bombers,” the smith shot back, “but we can’t be sure that everyone who comes to our forge is an ally! We can check familia crests, but the enemy could always show us counterfeits!”
“Then just look at ’em! If they look all evil-like, don’t give ’em anything!”
“You can’t be serious!”
Tsubaki made for a capable smith, but her skills as a commander were sadly lacking. As she argued, she pulled a magic sword out of the earth that she had stuck there previously and used it to launch a fireball at the second wave of foes.
“Besides,” the high smith continued. “Even if we only give out swords to those we trust, we’re going to run out fast! There’s too many enemies!”
“Aaargh, shut up! Who cares?! You’re not the only one short-staffed tonight, you know! Let us handle the battlefield and leave the supply chain to Lady Hephaistos!”
At that very moment, the goddess in question was in her home, the Vulca Workshop.
“Our stores are now open!” she declared. “Bring out all our inventory!”
“L-Lady Hephaistos, are you sure about this? That’s our entire fortune!”
“Well, it’s not going to do us much good if the entire city is destroyed! I’ll start handing them out to adventurers. That way, if I see they’re not who they claim to be, I can give you a signal, and you get out there and capture them!”
Deities could see though any lie perpetrated by mortals. The young worker was taken aback by this clever plan and only started moving when Hephaistos told him to snap to it.
After he hurriedly left the room, the goddess turned to the little old god next to her.
“Now, what about you, Goibniu?”
“Doubt I’ll make it back to my own forge now. Hope you’ll let me stay here awhile.”
The other smithing god, usually situated at his home in the northwest of town, had happened to be visiting Hephaistos’s forge in order to discuss logistics, when the outbreak of war cut their meeting short.
“Light the forge,” he said. “Might as well put my skills to good use while you’re out there dealing with the customers.”
The old god flashed a faint smile, something rarely seen on one so brusque as he. Hephaistos returned it.
“That would be much appreciated,” she said. “Thank you.”
It didn’t take long for them to analyze the situation and come to a snap decision. No matter which way the war went, there would surely be a need for weapons and equipment. Therefore, it was time to start hammering out some divine works for Orario’s protectors to use in the battles to come.
“I’m sending some of my best blacksmiths. Fire up every furnace!”
“Leave it to me.”
On that day, the fires of Hephaistos’s forges reached unprecedented capacity.
“Burques! I managed to get Hephaistos to give me some magic swords!”
“Nice work, Lofina!”
A young elf girl ran over to where the rest of her party hid, carrying in her arms a large sack with a bunch of weapons poking out of it.
She and the fellow members of her familia were all covered in soot and dust, and they crouched behind rubble like they were cowering in the trenches. The captain, Burques, began dividing up the weapons, ready to launch an assault on the Evils soldiers who lurked at the opposite end of the bridge.
“Not you, Filvis,” he said when a sweat-drenched young girl approached. “You need to rest and shake off that Mind Down.”
“N-no! I can still fight! Let me fight!”
The girl was only twelve years old. For an elf, that was so young that even other races considered her a child. The look in her eyes, however, was prouder than any of her adult peers. With jet-black hair and eyes like rubies, there was no doubt she would one day grow up into one of the greatest beauties to ever walk the earth.
She was dressed in long white battle clothes like a priestess, and carried a short wand made of wood from her hometown’s sacred tree.
“The very fate of Orario hangs in the balance!” she protested. “I cannot just sit around doing nothing! I am prepared to do whatever it takes to soothe Lord Dionysus’s fears! Ferry supplies, maintain barriers, anything!”
She was Filvis Challia, and they were Dionysus Familia. All were proud to fight for Orario’s safety in the name of their lord.
“…Fine. Come with me, Filvis.”
“Lofina!” the girl replied, overjoyed.
“You really do spoil that girl sometimes,” said Burques with a sigh. “Fine. You make sure not to distract your big sister, okay, Filvis?”
“I won’t!”
Her face turned into a smile. A smile of admiration for her elder sibling who served as vice-captain. Then they all turned and followed their captain into the heat of battle. The little girl summoned a shield of white lightning that would keep her loved ones safe.
“Healing droplets, tears of light, eternal sanctuary. Compose a medicinal hymn—three hundred, sixty, and five.”
The girl recited her chant as if reading from holy scripture, unleashing her magic on the wounded adventurers before her.
“In the name of all that is holy—I heal you. Dia Frater!”
An exceptionally large magic circle encompassed the area, abating the suffering of those within.
“Whoa?! That massive wound just closed up before my very eyes!”
“You’re a saint! A true saint! You’ve earned our worship from now on!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd of newly healed adventurers. The location was Northwest Main Street. If the magic-stone factories in the northeast of town were Orario’s lifeblood, then the Guild Headquarters on this street was its brain. It was here, on one of the many battlefields, where the girl stood.
Her faction’s emblem was a ball of light, flanked by herbs. It belonged to Dian Cecht Familia, one of the best, if not the best, medicinal suppliers in Orario. And she was its prodigal child, its secret weapon, Amid Teasanare.
“Cheers, kid. You patched me up real good.”
“I am not a kid.”
“I’ll be countin’ on you next time, squirt!”
“I am not a squirt!”
Amid pouted as the ruffians all took their leave. With her snow-white robe, long silver hair, and mysterious violet eyes, she looked like a doll, and all agreed her beauty would only grow in the coming years.
Right now, however, she was a little under 120 celches, often mistaken for a child or even a prum. She insisted on using a rod too large for her, and no matter how sternly she attempted to glare, she always looked painfully adorable.
Yet as far as Amid was concerned, she was a full-fledged lady, with a respectable twelve (!) years under her belt. Give it another seven, and she would be walking as tall and proud as the rest of them. Of course she would. Surely.
Amid looked at the revitalized adventurers with a mixture of annoyance and worry. Then, suddenly, a bout of dizziness overcame her.
“Urgh…”
She had been healing nonstop for hours. They just kept bringing in more wounded. Adventurers, of course, but injured civilians, too. For a small girl like her, healing them was just as exhausting as fighting on the front lines, if not more so.
Luckily, a hand caught her scruff before she planted her face in the ground. Her collar tightened around her neck before rubber-banding her back up.
“Gyugh!” she squealed.
“Take a rest before you pass out,” her rescuer said. “Here, have a potion.” Then she poured the magical concoction over Amid’s hair. The sweet-smelling liquid streamed down her face and into her eyes.
“Blugh!”
“Now, go sit in the corner and look pretty.”
Amid shook herself like a wet dog, drying her long silver hair, before glaring daggers at the girl beside her.
“What are you doing here, Ersuisu?”
“Telling you to sit this one out. You have any idea how mad the old man will be if I let you push yourself too far?”
It was a chienthrope from Miach Familia called Nahza Ersuisu. She was noticeably taller than Amid, despite being a year her junior.
“I’m heading onto the battlefield to serve as Miach’s escort,” she said. “Scaredy-cats like you should stay put.”
She waved her hand as if to shoo Amid away. In her other, she held her weapon, a bow. As she turned to leave, Amid puffed up her cheeks, threw aside her staff, grabbed hold of the girl’s canine tail, and pulled with all her might.
“Eeep?!”
“Look at how your tail is shaking!” she said. “I might be a scaredy-cat, but you’re just a scaredy-dog!”
“Sh-shut up! I’ll have Lord Miach to protect me out there! He’ll save me from all the bad guys, and then love will bloom on the battlefield…”
“L-love?!”
“It doesn’t matter how grown-up you act; Lord Miach will never love you!”
“Y-yes, he will!”
“And besides, I’ve seen you making eyes at him. Stick to your own familia, you floozy!”
“Sh-shut up!”
“Girls! This is hardly the time or the place!”
““L-Lord Miach!””
There to break up the catfighting was the very god they were discussing. At his rebuke, the girls turned red-faced.
Ignoring them, Miach turned and shouted. “Dian! We’re heading over to Central Park! I’ll leave things here in your capable hands!”
“What, and let you steal all the glory?” snapped the white-haired old man. “If you’re going, then so are we!”
“Please, must we always quarrel like this?” Miach sighed. The rivalry between their two factions was no less strong between the two gods than it was between their respective disciples.
“One of us must stay back to provide healing on the northwestern front! You must understand, Dian, this is no time for petty squabbles!”
“Nrgh! You have a point…Very well, but you better pull your weight over there, you hear?”
“Right back at you, my fellow. Come, Slane, my captain. Let’s go.”
“Yes, Lord Miach!”
Miach departed southward alongside an armed escort, leaving the two quarreling girls to hang their heads in shame.
The fires of war were burning in all quarters of the city. Only the gods in heaven and the birds above could see the true scale of the invasion. Crimson streaks erupted in the streets, igniting the buildings. It was like a fiery cauldron, enclosed on all sides by steep walls of stone, ready to drag all within it down to the deepest pits of hell.
Meanwhile, atop a tall belfry, a catgirl assassin surveyed the inferno. Her feline tail swayed softly from side to side, before suddenly pricking up.
“…Orario is freakin’ wild, meow.”
Meanwhile, on a rooftop, a human girl bounty hunter peeked at the inferno while fending off her Evils attackers. She restlessly clenched and unclenched her bloodstained fists.
“…Man, Orario is crazy.”
These two girls had coincidentally and independently arrived in the same city at the same time, on the same terrible day. Each of them cursed their own rotten luck.
““I guess I’ll stay out of the war business for a while.””
Each of them came to the same conclusion. To look out for number one.
Amid all the buildings of the city was one that stood undamaged despite the lack of adventurers guarding it. It was a tavern called The Benevolent Mistress over on East Main Street.
“Unruly customers, get lost!!”
“Guooogh?!”
The proprietress, a stockily built dwarf woman named Mia Grand, flattened the intruders with a single punch.
“Harrumph!” she snorted. “What a feckless lot, running about like they own the place.”
She looked around. The streets outside her bar were ablaze and littered with piles of rubble and upturned carts. Behind her, the tavern was conspicuously untouched, and Mia’s animal person staff hurried to and fro, trying to keep the flames from spreading to it.
“…We can’t hold out forever,” she grumbled. “Guess it’s time to cut our losses and head on over to Central Park.”
The bar was sheltering a few dozen people who hadn’t been able to make it to the evacuation points in time. They were all exhausted, and covered in soot, and relied on Mia’s strong arm to see them through the crisis. Mia was happy to help, but she had been an adventurer once upon a time, and her old instincts told her there wasn’t much sense in prolonging the siege any further.
“We’re sitting ducks out here,” she muttered to herself. “And I got a feeling something nasty’s about to happen.”
Mia took one last look at the bar.
If any of them mess this place up, I’ll make them wish their mothers never squeezed them out.
Then she quickly set about leading the civilians to safety.
The heaviest Evils losses in the battle so far had been suffered by those who had foolishly attempted to attack this place unprepared.
Maybe I just have rotten luck, the girl thought.
It always seemed to go this way. She had no parents, no friends, no guardians. The only person looking out for her was herself, and everywhere she went, people tried to take advantage of her.
And now it was starker than ever, the difference between her and those upon whom fortune smiled. They would stumble across powerful adventurers or find somebody foolish enough to stand up for the weak in a time of war. That was all it took in these times for a nobody to change their fate.
Evil had taken over the minds of the people. How else could you explain all the fire and death? They let darkness into their hearts and preyed on the weak. Evil gods whispered into their ears, telling them it was the only way to make the old order fall.
“Diiiiiiiie!”
“Ah…”
So when the young prum stared up from the gutter, seconds from meeting her end at the tip of a blood-soaked blade, she realized she was just unlucky.
Or perhaps not.
“Get the hell away from her!!”
“Gaaaaagh?!”
A figure appeared, but it was all so fast that the prum girl had trouble figuring out what had just happened. All she heard at first was the werewolf’s furious voice. And then, slowly, she realized that the Evils soldier before her had just been mercilessly slaughtered.
“Pick on someone your own size, you assholes. When are you gonna stop pissin’ me off?”
“Calm down, Bete!” came a second voice. “We’ve just received more orders from Braver! He says we need to make sure the citizens get away safely!”
“I know!”
The girl’s eardrums had been numbed by the explosions, and she could barely make out a word. But she could see his face, and the blue, fang-shaped tattoo that ran down his cheek.
“Selenia! Take this prum and get her to Central Park!”
He turned and issued some kind of order to his vice-captain, before running off with the rest of his squad. The brown-haired human girl stopped and offered her hand.
“Are you okay? Can you stand?”
The prum nodded, more or less understanding the question without hearing it.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked. “You look like a supporter…Are you with a familia?”
The prum nodded again. The girl’s warm and comforting smile seemed genuine.
“Lilly…” she said. “Soma Familia…”
She took the girl’s hand and stood up but soon fell right over again. The girl giggled and lifted her up.
She had terrible luck. But even a losing streak couldn’t last forever.
So, drowsy from the effects of the divine wine and unable to separate dream from reality, Lilliluka Erde fell asleep in her savior’s arms.
“Wait! I’m not an enemy, I’m with Vidar Familia! My name’s Selenia, and I’m bringing these civilians to safety!”
Selenia marched through the barricades, another rescued group of townsfolk in tow. By now, the area around Babel was teeming with people, and one Evils spy chuckled to himself at the sight.
He had disguised himself as one of the citizens and made his way inside the barricades at Central Park, just as Freya and Finn had suggested might happen. And he wasn’t the only one.
Their primary objective was to assassinate Freya. Their secondary objective was to strike a devastating blow to the enemy camp.
Of course, without the help of their god, they stood little chance of harming their divine foe, but the inferno stones concealed within their pockets would give them the edge over any adventurer who might get in their way.
The man had sworn an oath to evil, and soon, the time to fulfill that oath would arrive.
“Excuse me. Do you mind if I stand here?”
“O-of course not! Go right ahead.”
A new batch of rescuers had just arrived, it seemed. The man, dressed to appear as bedraggled as the rest of them, shuffled over to make some room.
The newcomer appeared to be a young woman. Even the hood couldn’t hide what a beauty she was. She smelled nice, nicer than anyone on the battlefield ought to smell.
Her pale gray eyes, the same color as her hair, turned on the man standing beside her.
“So,” she said. “Where might your friends be hiding?”
As soon as the man caught sight of that silver glimmer, his heart was hers. With hollow eyes, he began speaking, answering the woman’s question as though it had far higher priority than his initial orders.
“…There are three on the eastern side,” he said. “Five to the north. Our god is waiting in the west…”
“Quiet,” the girl said. “Do not look this way. Let no one hear of what we speak.”
“I understand…”
The man continued so softly that their conversation disappeared beneath the clamor of the crowd. The young woman was silent as the man divulged his secrets to her. Eventually, once she heard all she needed to know, she left without another word, leaving the man by himself.
She walked back over to a group of men and women standing nearby—adventurers and healers disguised as commonfolk.
“You’ve become quite adept at using your charms to command others, Lady Syr,” said one, a young girl with pink hair tied up in bunches.
“Thank you, Heith. However, he wasn’t an easy man to find. It was only by borrowing our Lady’s insight that I was able to track him down.”
The girl named Syr turned and looked toward the uppermost floor of Babel, far out of sight, almost as though sharing a telepathic moment with the goddess standing by its window.
A second later, she felt the hard strike of a cane on her back.
“Ouch! What was that for?!”
“…Pray, share with us the information you gleaned, Lady Syr.”
Syr looked back and met Heith’s jealous eye. Her tone was calm, but it wasn’t hard to discern the envy she felt toward the girl’s special connection. Syr glared daggers back, then quickly adopted a more diplomatic expression.
“I have written it all down here,” she said, producing a scrap of paper.
“Excellent,” replied Heith, taking the note and handing it to the other adventurers. “Now we shall be able to stop those would-be killers before they can get their grubby paws on our Lady Freya.”
Those of Freya Familia were not just followers of their goddess; they worshipped her with heart and soul. The only oath they swore was to protect their lady at all costs, and no hell was too hot for those foolish enough to threaten her. Now these assassins’ fates were sealed, and soon they would all be buried in unmarked graves.
“I’d like to capture them alive if at all possible…” said Heith. “Do you think you could charm the other spies, as well?”
“The followers, I can. But not the god,” replied Syr. “A mere vessel like me cannot hope to command such power.”
“Figures,” sighed Heith. “We’ll have to leave them to Loki Familia, then. At least we can handle the rest for them.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “After all, it sounds like they’ve got a lot more on their plate than we do.”
Finn was burdened with an almost unmanageable torrent of reports, not only from dedicated messengers but also from adventurers escaping the scenes of carnage happening all over the city. However, with his keen mind, he took it all in stride, analyzing the information and delivering his orders.
“Major enemy movement to the south! Send the Berbera and Captain Tsubaki to reinforce! Focus all efforts on the southern and southwestern districts! Tell Vidar Familia to help make up the numbers!”
From time to time, Loki would chime in with some welcome piece of news that even Finn had missed.
“Gettin’ reports that Vidar Familia’s werewolf is kickin’ ass out there! I think we can let ’em keep skirmishing to disorientate the enemy!”
Reminding himself how grateful he was to have her help at a time like this, Finn focused on the battle map in his mind.
To the north were situated the forces of Freya Familia, and the workshops and forges of Hephaistos Familia. Between them, other powerful familias filled in the gaps, sometimes taking orders and sometimes acting on their own initiative. The many factions of Orario were working to put aside their differences and come together, repelling the invaders in order to bring peace to their city.
Finn bit his thumb. He could already see the war was reaching a stalemate.
We’ve taken great losses, he thought, but we can still recuperate, if we focus on deploying our first-tier adventurers in critical locations.
This was Finn’s strategy. It stemmed from neither an overestimation of his side’s abilities, nor an underestimation of his foes. He knew exactly how formidable the familias of Orario could be if they worked together for once.
This is Orario. If everyone gets pulled into the war on the same side, there’s no force in this world that can stand against them. Surely the Evils are aware of that.
Their motives were inscrutable. Finn could understand their aims in the beginning. The suicide bombings had been unconscionable, but at least they’d ground the city to a halt. What reason did the Evils have to stay on the streets, massacring the townsfolk out in the open? Surely, they must have known that the longer they stayed, the more the tide would turn against them. Finn and some of his fellow commanders had even worked out reliable countermeasures against the bombs already.
Adventurers would always adapt. Finn knew Valletta was aware of that, and he also knew that she never played a game intending to lose.
They had something up their sleeve. It was all but certain.
That feeling in my thumb keeps getting stronger. What are they planning? What do they have?!
Finn looked to the south, just as Raul ran breathlessly over, bearing a message.
“C-Captain! It’s the adventurers in the southwest! They’ve all been wiped out!”
Everyone in earshot turned and gasped.
“Valletta…” growled Finn.
Raul’s whole face trembled. It took Finn a moment to realize he was shaking his head.
“No, sir…”
Twitching with fear, the boy relayed what he had seen and heard—the message his fellow adventurers had given their lives for.
“It was just two people…A man armed with a greatsword…and a female magic user!”
Finn’s thumb was screaming at him. His sky-blue eyes flared wide. For several seconds, he didn’t so much as breathe.
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