INTERLUDE FLIP SIDE OF THE FARCE
Let’s rewind a bit to a day long before Aiz and company arrived at the safety point on the eighteenth floor. To a point only four days into Loki Familia’s expedition, when a certain meeting was about to take place.
“Yahooo! It’s Denatus time!!”
The shout came from Babel, the soaring white tower in the center of Orario.
Gods aplenty had gathered in the great hall on the tower’s thirtieth floor.
It was time for Denatus, the grand meeting of the deities that took place once every three months.
Denatus was a gathering that was mostly bluster and didn’t accomplish much. That being said, it was an advisory body technically recognized by the Guild. Discussions at these events were dominated by inane topics of little to no consequence—truly representative of the gods’ capricious natures—but every once in a while, more important matters were brought up: the bequeathment of influential aliases onto adventurers, for instance, or the proposal and subsequent evaluation of potential events and festivities. Accordingly, there were times they had to convene outside the normal schedule.
The only requirement for participation in a Denatus was at least one upper-class adventurer within the god’s familia—in other words, at least one member needed to be Level 2 or higher. Pitting their familias against one another and comparing the ability of their followers to level up—to transcend the limitations of their current status—was just another way for the gods to jostle for status on the mortal plane.
Because an adventurer’s level was synonymous with how closely they stood to the gods themselves, the number of high-level followers in one’s familia had become a sort of achievement, a way to be recognized by their peers, as it were.
“Whoa! Even Lady Freya’s here?!”
“Hell yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!”
“And Lady Ishtar, too!”
“Ain’t she a sight for sore eyes…!”
The large room was one giant circular hall, countless long pillars supporting a ceiling far overhead. The blue sky beyond the thirtieth-floor windows surrounded them on all sides, imparting the feeling that the guests were traversing a holy temple in the clouds. Deities appeared one after another from the giant door that acted as the room’s sole exit, and the line made its way toward the massive round table in the center of the room.
There was a double-bunned god radiating austerity, an elephant-faced god emphatically introducing himself every chance he could get (“I am Ganeeesha!”), and a pair of silver- and purple-haired goddesses of beauty—these latter two garnered quite a lot of attention from the men. This, in turn, prompted more than a few eye rolls from the women. Old gods, young gods, male and female alike, all took their seats around the giant round table.
The room was filled with smiles as deities took the opportunity to chat among their neighbors.
After a short while, one of the goddesses rose to her feet.
“Well! We’re all here, ain’t we? Let’s get this show on the road!” Loki’s crimson hair gave a bounce as her narrow eyes squinted into a smile of their own. The room grew quiet, and she continued. “Let the one thousand something-th meeting of the gods, Denatus, commence! I’ll be yer host, Loki! Pleasure to be here tonight.”
“Woooooo!”
The gathering of exuberant gods burst into applause.
Loki responded to the ovation of her peers with an energetic raise of her arm.
The trickster goddess’s organizing of the month’s Denatus hadn’t been an accident. No, Loki herself had asked to be the host.
“Most of my kids are out on their expedition, leavin’ me with nothin’ to do! What say you guys let me host this month’s Denatus, huh?”
That had been her proposition.
Keeping the group of loquacious, unmanageable gods under control required a god of considerable rank. As the patron deity of one of the largest familias in Orario, Loki had been met with nothing but encouraging replies of “Be our guest!” in response to her offer.
Loki looked out across the table of gods and goddesses. There were, of course, many familiar faces, from the goddess of beauty Freya—with whom she maintained a trying yet inescapable relationship—to the scarlet-haired, scarlet-eyed goddess Hephaistos—with whom she was currently allied. The latter beamed a smile at Loki in greeting, her right eye covered by its ever-present eye patch.
In the process of surveying the table, she couldn’t help but notice the young goddess sitting beside the deity of the forge.
Ugh, so Itty-Bitty really did come? Cheeky little thing…
The short-statured girl gave a shudder as their eyes met. Her jet-black hair was done up in twin pigtails by a set of bell-shaped fasteners, and the overwhelming presence of her massive chest was almost paralyzing.
The sight of that detestable Loli-goddess and her eyesore of a bosom made Loki want to violently lose her lunch. It was none other than the pint-size busty Jyaga Maru tramp—Loki’s rival in all things breast related.
She simply glared back at Loki, “You got a problem, huh?” written all over her face.
Under normal circumstances, the two would have begun quarreling the moment they’d laid eyes upon each other.
Ah, whatever. Who gives a damn about her anyway? I’ve got things to do!
Loki decided to ignore her.
The fact that the red-haired goddess didn’t lunge at her from that single look was enough to arouse suspicion in the buxom girl, but Loki didn’t let it faze her, carrying on with her hosting duties in blithe ignorance.
“All right, then! Let’s get on with it, shall we? We’ll start with a little information swap. Anyone got any juicy tidbits they’d like to share?”
“I do, I do! I’ve heard tell that old Soma got a slap on the wrist from the Guild and had all his precious liquor confiscated!”
“He whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!”
Loki’s question was like a spark, and soon the whole hall was abuzz.
The main goal of Denatus was the sharing of information. Most tidbits ended up being nothing but frivolous gossip merely meant to relieve some boredom, but on the off chance someone had news relating to Orario or the Dungeon, they’d identify it as a point of discussion and share it appropriately.
Denatus was a meeting of the most influential gods and goddesses of Orario, and those same gods had a duty to relay any- and everything of note.
This often resulted in a wild affair.
Gods raised their hands left and right, spouting off their opinions in a sort of mass chaos akin to a congressional parliament. One topic led to another, which led to yet another, and conversations were always in a constant state of flux and laced with riotous laughter.
The “solemn assembly of the gods” many mortals envisioned when they imagined the Denatus was, in fact, nothing of the sort. If they had a chance to see what the event was really like, most would probably say, “So our gods act exactly the same as always…”
“All right, everyone quiet for a sec!”
Loki’s shout instantly silenced the cacophony of voices all trying to prove their points.
“Lessee now. Lookin’ at everything that’s been brought up, it seems the matter we need to address the most is the whole Rakia shebang. For the time bein’, we’ll relay what we know to the Guild. Having said that, I highly doubt ol’ Ouranos isn’t aware. But anyway, as some of ya here’ve probably already called your familias together, could one of ya take care of it?”
“Got it!”
Loki exercised her authority as chair to deal with the topic promptly and concisely.
The other gods nodded in obedient agreement.
“Ah, right. ’S it okay if I throw one more issue of my own into the pot?” Loki cut in with a little grin once it seemed the other gods had run out of topics and there was a lull in the conversation.
She ran her eyes around the entirety of the table, letting them fall conspicuously on two certain male gods sitting a short distance away from each other.
The two gods—the golden-haired Dionysus and the gentlemanly Hermes—squinted with identical little smiles in response.
“Recently, a nasty new monster species has been comin’ out of the woodwork. We saw ’em at ’Philia and now they’re even showin’ up at safety points.”
There was a simultaneous flinch from a number of the gods.
The stunning silver-locked goddess of beauty threw Loki a sidelong glance as the young, buxom goddess next to Hephaistos cocked her head to the side in oblivious curiosity.
Several deities, whose familias earned a living in the Dungeon or sent many of their adventurers to Rivira, were wearing very stiff expressions on their usually graceful features—perhaps they knew something? Or some of their followers had already become victims of those creatures?
“These vibrant little beasties look like someone went at ’em with a paintbrush. They’re ’bout as strong as a second-tier adventurer…and damn elusive, too. They have a tendency to show up wherever they goddamn well please, whether it’s in the Dungeon or even the city itself.”
Loki was probing now.
Or perhaps shaking things up was a better phrase.
The real reason Loki had aggressively pushed to be the host this month was for this opportunity—a chance to look straight into the eyes of all those assembled and gauge their reactions. She was hoping for some kind of clue as to just who was behind the events surrounding the recent Monsterphilia, the eighteenth floor, and the twenty-fourth-floor pantry.
Something to connect the flesh-eating viola flowers, the crystal orb fetus, the half-human, half-monster creatures, and the remnants of the Evils.
The intensely hued monsters Aiz and the others had first faced on their previous expedition could have easily overthrown the whole city if they pleased. This grave reason was what spurred Loki into gradually involving herself more and more with Dionysus and Hermes’s little scheme since their secret meeting in the bar a few days prior, and the same reason they were laying their trap now.
The plan was to smoke out the suspects.
In my opinion, every single god in this city is a suspect—and an enemy of my children.
Dionysus had remarked, still feeling the sting of his own lost followers.
Villains were unfortunately plentiful in the ranks of the gods, and Loki found herself unable to deny his assertion. Every single god and goddess at the round table was a suspect.
One of them could be the mastermind behind everything—the destroyer of cities, “Enyo.”
There was a corrupt god among them. One with allies underground in the Dungeon as well as on the surface, aligned with the surviving Evils.
Loki and the others would be using this month’s Denatus to investigate the identity of this leader as well as his or her accomplices.
It would be tonight, at this banquet for the city’s most powerful gods.
“Watch yourselves, everyone, ’cause I’ve also heard tell about some naughty little good-for-nothin’ reprobates scuttlin’ around and makin’ a nuisance of themselves lately.”
Loki’s scarlet eyes narrowed as a thin smile graced her lips, her nose sniffing for that undeniable stench that could come from only an Evil.
Dionysus and Hermes, too, kept their eyes alert for any suspicious behavior among those seated at the table.
The newcomers to the mortal plane—those who’d been in Orario for only two or three years now—suspiciously examined those around the table while the rest of the women exaggeratedly brought their hands to their mouths and mumbled, “Well, you know…” and the men snickered among themselves with sardonic expressions, saying, “Sooo scaaary.”
The probing had begun in earnest, and now every deity was involved.
“Can I say something, too?!”
A voice.
From a table rose a finely sculpted bronze arm.
It was followed by the owner himself—none other than Ganesha, the god in the elephant mask.
“First, let me just start by saying…I am Ganesha!”
“Yeah, yeah, we got it. Sit down already.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant to say! I wanted to start by apologizing for the debacle at the Monsterphilia!” Ganesha corrected himself after Loki’s insulting brush-off. “But you must understand—I swear on the name of Ganesha, Lord of Hosts, that those violas you speak of are not related to my familia! You must believe me!!” He continued from atop his chair, constantly changing his pose.
Ganesha Familia had cooperated with the Guild to host Monsterphilia. The elephant-masked god was using this opportunity here at Denatus to apologize ardently for letting those monsters run wild during the event, as well as recognizing the efforts of another god and her followers who worked to bring the commotion under control.
Loki subtly shifted her attention to one person who had been responsible for at least half of the mess in the first place—the silver-haired goddess of beauty, who was currently sipping a cup of tea she had received from a divine fan of hers.
Ganesha wanted to make it very clear that he knew nothing about the monsters involved in the incident.
“And another thing! Those same monsters down on the eighteenth floor killed some of my followers, too! I have no idea whether the two incidents are related, but I would very much like to avenge my children!! If anyone has any information, I ask wholeheartedly that you bring it forward!” Ganesha slammed his fist on the table.
He referred now to the top-secret quest one of his followers, Hashana Dorlia, had been given to retrieve the crystal-orb fetus, and which ultimately had gotten him killed by the crimson-haired creature Levis.
A pair of tears rolled out from the bottom of the aggrieved deity’s elephant mask, tracing the curves of his cheeks.
Seeing the normally eccentric god actually shedding tears was enough to make the other gods stop short, their mouths clamping shut.
“Why…why, Hashana?! To be killed during coitus…! To be seduced by a bombshell only to lose his life—ah! I’m so jealous! Why couldn’t that have been me?!”
“The hell? Hashana didn’t kick the bucket while he was getting it on,” Loki interjected as Ganesha continued to weep hot tears of envy.
“What?”
Somehow or another, the god had gotten the impression that his follower had been slain while in the arms of a buxom beauty.
Loki stared indifferently at the ridiculous elephant mask adorning the god’s face. The temporary suspense that had seized the room was broken in an instant by Ganesha’s characteristic banality.
Sigh. “Typical…!” Loki exclaimed as a strange atmosphere settled over the room.
Throwing a quick glance at Dionysus and Hermes, both of whom were smiling wryly, she decided to halt the search here and return to the real matter at hand.
“Anyone have anything else to say? We all good?” she asked, assuming her hostly duties again.
From the indifference of her peers, it seemed everyone was fresh out of gossip. She scanned the circumference of the table…then decided to carry on as planned.
Lips curling upward, she returned to her usual antics.
“Well then, let’s carry on, shall we? Time for the naming ceremony.”
Almost instantaneously, a strange sense of tension gripped the room.
The moment the words had passed from her lips, the faces of the gods and goddesses who’d yet to participate in the conversation grew pale, the young, busty goddess next to Hephaistos included.
Loki smirked together with the other Denatus regulars, the lot of them boasting their most depraved smiles of the day.
The real feast, the farce, was about to begin.
“All reports have been shared proper, yeah? Then let’s get started! Lessee now, our top batter for today is…Seti of Ceto Familia!”
“P-please go easy on me…!!”
“““““““““Denied!”””””””””
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ?!!”
It was time to bequeath aliases upon the newly leveled-up adventurers—the monthly naming ceremony.
Every adventurer’s official nickname was decided at Denatus, from Aiz’s “Sword Princess” to Tiona’s “Amazon.”
These aliases, as they were called, were names bequeathed by the gods, meant to extol the exploits of the mortal recipient. They signified the official recognition of deusdea, acting as a symbol of the strength and renown of the chosen adventurer.
Those on the lower world who’d not yet been able to attain one of these refined names from the gods viewed their compatriots with respect and envy.
“All right! Adventurer Erika Rosalia…nickname, Violante!”
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”
However, the gods themselves did not view this venerable custom with the same excitement as their arguably old-fashioned children. In fact, they wanted to avoid it like the plague.
The majority of aliases born from the naming ceremony were names of complete and utter tragedy meant to make the adventurer’s patron deity writhe in discomfort. For a god to see the child they had so carefully raised receive a stigma-inducing name that would become the butt of every joke—it was enough for some to pass out in agony. There was no greater torture in existence.
For the especially mean-spirited gods, seeing an adventurer all proud and haughty about their freshly minted title while their patron deity squirmed in torment was one of the greatest pleasures in all the world and exactly why they couldn’t stop.
As Loki filtered suggestions, took votes, and finally handed down each new name—or perhaps death sentence would be a better phrase—to its unsuspecting adventurer, the patron deities in question howled and wailed in utter despair.
Now that the ceremony’s begun, maybe we can end this on a happy note?
Loki thought to herself as each of the low-level gods at the meeting was subjected to the usual hazing. Though what she really wanted to do was probe a bit further and see whether she could gauge any more reactions, she knew that would be asking for too much.
These thoughts running through her head, she dutifully carried on as host.
“Have we decided on a name for Mikoto Yamato yet? If not, let’s hurry it up!”
“Not yet! I haven’t gotten rid of my karma and suffering from the last ceremony—Angelic Code, the Eternal Virgin Revelations!!”
“Jeanne of Yamato, the Divine Wind of the Far East!”
“Saint Tail, the Holy Spy!”
“You fools! The only real choice here is Salty Angel, the Lovingly Raised!”
“Stop it, stop it, stop iiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt!!”
The round-table debate was really hitting a climax now as the patron deity of the poor hostage adventurer kept wailing in horror. Loki turned her gaze away as the twin-bunned god brought his hands to both sides of his head with great gulping sobs.
Catching her gaze, Dionysus simply shrugged. His subsequent sigh seemed to state the obvious—that their efforts had achieved nothing.
“Dionysus, you’re looking pretty smug over there. Care to join the conversation?”
“Yeah! You actually decided to attend for once, so why not toss out a suggestion, hm?”
“We’ve got quite the task in front of us. Coming up with an alias for that rookie Mikoto who everyone’s been talking about!”
“Oh? Let me think…” Dionysus replied upon instigation from his peers.
All eyes on him, he took a glance at the report on the table and the profile the Guild had created for the adventurer in preparation for her naming. The parchment revealed a beautiful girl from the Far East with jet-black hair.
Dionysus smiled ever so sweetly.
“How about Eternal Shadow?”
“Dionysus, you bastaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard!!”
Once again, this month’s Denatus wouldn’t disappoint.
“All right, then! Mikoto’s title is now…Eternal Shadow!”
“No objections here!” “None from me!” “Sounds good!”
“No, no, no, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”
The warrior god let out a defeated cry as the votes were cast, solidifying Dionysus’s proposal.
Soon out-of-control laughter from his fellow gods followed. As the grand circus claimed its newest victim, Loki thought to herself of the fun she’d be having soon, as well.
Once the small to medium familias had done their time in the lower reaches of hell, the names of newly leveled-up adventurers from elite familias would be next. The abhorrent aliases would decrease remarkably, no doubt to keep fights from breaking out among the most influential gods and goddesses of the city as their second-tier-plus adventurers were considered. Hephaistos Familia, Ganesha Familia, and Ishtar Familia all had names on the list.
She was able to get through them with naught but a single argument from a certain goddess.
“Let’s steer things back on track, yeah? Next is…” she said with a snicker, “…a big name! My very own Aiz!”
“The Sword Princess arrives at last!!”
“And still as beautiful as ever, to boot.”
“Level Six already? Impressive…”
Loki’s own follower was up, and all eyes were on her.
It was her golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman, boasting the same level of fame and renown as the three leaders of Loki Familia and even matching the current apex of Orario, an adventurer known as the Warlord.
Considering the insane progress she had made in a little over ten short years, simply mentioning the girl had been enough to reinvigorate the room.
The Sword Princess, Aiz Wallenstein, had finally joined the ranks of the Level 6s.
“The little lady has really outdone herself this time.” One of the gods smiled, seemingly overcome with joy, at the sight of the doll-like girl and her achievements on the parchment in front of them. The last part of the report was reserved for background details regarding her level-up, which, in Aiz’s case, was her victory over Udaeus, the Monster Rex of the thirty-seventh floor.
To defeat a floor boss single-handedly was a mighty feat, and the revelation put the whole room in a state of feverish elation.
“She beat that thing all on her own? Gods almighty, that girl is dangerous! Even more than Ottar!”
“I wouldn’t say that. Ottar had his own expedition and almost brought down the floor boss Parole by himself. I’d still say he’s more of a force to be reckoned with.”
“But for Udaeus to be laid low…”
“Heh, well, he’s the weakest of the four generals anyway…”
“Quite a disgrace to lose to our idol like that…”
“Hey! Quit picking on Mister Udaeus!!”
“Yeah, he’s the strongest of the four generals! So quit with the bad-mouthing!”
Words of praise and admiration flew back and forth around the table.
Even the young, buxom goddess sitting alongside Hephaistos found herself groaning in spite of herself at the sheer magnitude of the young adventurer’s feat.
“We’ve got more-important things to worry about than Udaeus now. C’mon, we’ve gotta think of a new alias!”
“Hmm…”
“But do we really need to change hers? Seems a bit silly if there’s no reason to.”
“Indeed.”
“If we were to change it…perhaps something like Sword Saint?”
“Sword…Saint?”
“Doesn’t really seem to fit her, though, you think?”
“I don’t know about you guys, but clearly the only viable candidate I see is Our Wife.”
“It’s perfect!” the voices chorused from around the room.
The general ruckus showed no signs of waning, and the gods proceeded at once with the naming, fully prepared to change Aiz’s alias from Sword Princess to Our Wife.
Until.
“I will murder every last one of you.”
The suggestion was effectively rejected by a single glare from Loki.
“W-we’re so sorry!!” the voices chorused once again.
The goddess’s ice-cold scowl was enough to inform them that they’d crossed a line, and every single god in the room quickly brought their forehead to the table in fervent apology.
First Hestia, then Loki, then everyone in the room turned their eyes toward the source of the voice. Toward the alluring yet disinterested features of the silver-haired goddess of beauty.
“So long as Hestia’s not doing anything wrong, I see no reason to choke the answer out of her like this. The business of a familia is just that—its own business. And discussing our followers’ statuses has always been taboo, has it not?” Freya continued, entirely disenchanted, and Loki’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the infuriating goddess she couldn’t seem to rid herself of.
“…One month. Do you even understand what that means, you perverted goddess?”
Freya just chuckled. “Why so stubborn, Loki? If anything, you’re the one acting strange here.”
You’re the one breaking taboo were the words left unsaid, and the smug goddess followed up with a pretentious smile as though she’d just noticed this implication herself.
“You’re not jealous, are you, dear? All because Hestia’s follower broke the record of your precious little darling?”
“Like hell I am!” Loki responded instantly to the completely truthful accusation, although she nearly gulped.
“Is that so?” Freya merely smiled, goading her on.
Loki’s eyes went red. Ready to verbally lash the other goddess, she suddenly found herself unable to move, trapped by the gaze of those silver eyes.
This unbearable woman, is she…?
If she wanted to play the blame game and twist her words like this, Loki was fully prepared to go head-to-head. However, she could tell already that anything she said now would only get her wrapped tighter and tighter within Freya’s coils.
She stuck her tongue out in spite of herself, and Freya responded with a coy smile.
“It’s true that I can scarcely believe it myself, just looking at the number. It must be some kind of miracle!”
“But he did take down that minotaur. That’s a miracle in and of itself, isn’t it? He completely overcame their difference in levels.”
“If we must apply logic to it, perhaps the creature was some kind of fated rival of the boy’s, so the excelia he received upon defeating it held a special significance?”
“Leveling up after something like that isn’t beyond the realm of possibility…or at least that’s what I think.”
The other gods and goddesses began tossing around ideas of their own, inspired by Freya’s comment.
Just like Loki, Freya was a goddess of one of the largest familias in Orario and, as such, an influential voice. Adding in her sheer charm—which had earned her a reputation as an incarnation of beauty itself—she was quickly amassing support even now.
“I stand behind Lady Freya!” Hermes piped up, cementing his own reputation as a spineless coward, and Dionysus was forced to let out a sigh.
Wait. This doesn’t have anythin’ to do with what she said that night, does it? Maybe the kid Freya’s after is actually…? Loki pondered, memories of a certain evening inhabiting the back of her mind as Freya’s suggestion was met with more and more approval.
It had been the night of the Monsterphilia, when Loki met with Freya for their secret meeting in a high-class pub within the city’s Shopping District.
“If you’re willing to stay quiet about today’s events…I’ll offer you the robe for your silence. Do we have a deal?”
They’d made an agreement that day.
Loki had threatened to go to the Guild with a report about the goddess of beauty’s antics at Monsterphilia but had ultimately been done in by her own weakness and begrudgingly agreed to keep things under wraps.
Specifically, Loki had promised to hold back everything relating to the kid Freya had fallen for.
She’d turned a blind eye then, she would have to again in the future, and she had to now as well.
With that one look from Freya’s otherworldly gaze, Loki understood. Freya was infatuated with none other than the very child they were discussing—Hestia’s follower.
Then the kid’s fight with the minotaur that Ishtar mentioned…that was Freya’s doing, too?
While she couldn’t be sure whether Freya’d already been able to see the kid’s potential for growth at the time, she’d certainly zeroed in on him pretty quickly, which would explain why she was covering for him now in front of the rest of the gods, as if he was her personal plaything.
Loki could taste bile in her mouth.
Don’t interfere, those silver eyes had practically whispered, and Loki knew she had no choice—she was going to have to let all of Freya’s actions regarding the boy, Bell Cranell, go unchecked, no matter how much it pained her to do so.
Thus, the explanation for Bell Cranell’s uncanny growth would remain a mystery, just as Freya wished.
That kid’s gotta be somethin’ if even Freya’s taken an interest. I mean, with a stupid record like this…but didn’t she call him a transparent, unreliable crybaby?…Ugh, whatever! I still don’t like it!
Loki felt flames lick at her insides as she grumbled to herself, completely unaware of the discussion currently taking place among the men regarding the boy’s new alias—a discussion the women in the room withdrew from with apathetic disinterest.
No. Agreement or not, she did not like being someone’s toy. With a start, she flew from her chair, disregarding what was happening around the table and dashing over to Hestia, who had a very dim-witted look on her face.
“…Loki?” Hestia glanced up upon Loki’s arrival.
“…Watch yerself, Itty-Bitty,” Loki murmured sullenly.
“Huh?”
“I’m tellin’ you to keep yer eyes open. I can’t even believe I’m tellin’ ya this, but…I can’t stand seein’ that tramp play around with people like this,” she continued. “She’s making a fool outta ya.”
Apparently irritated, Loki raised her head and looked away from Hestia.
She was focused on the goddess just now leaving her seat.
Those long silver locks of hers passed through the doorway to the hall and disappeared from view.
“W-wait just a second! What is that supposed to mean, ‘watch yourself’? What am I watching?!”
“Don’tcha get it, you moron? That chick’s taken your boy under her wing!”
“Y-you mean Freya?” Hestia asked, raising her voice. Her blue eyes darted to and fro with confusion.
Loki, however, merely righted herself with a snort.
“You…you really don’t get it? Ignorance is bliss, I guess. Well…whatever. Not like it’s got anythin’ to do with me!” she finished apathetically before returning to her seat.
While the thought of giving any sort of advice to that buxom rival of hers was enough to make her blood boil, she hated seeing her fall prey to Freya’s whims even more, so she was willing to try just about anything.
Even giving a (begrudging) warning to her sworn enemy.
After returning to her seat, Loki didn’t have more than a brief moment to settle in before—
“““““““““““We’ve got it!!”””””””””””
—the final adventurer’s alias was chosen, and the naming ceremony came to a close.
The Denatus ended without any further hitches.
The deities in attendance made their way out of the great hall one by one, a number of them on their way to Guild Headquarters in high spirits to officially announce the results of the naming ceremony.
Once all had left and the hall was deserted, only Loki, Dionysus, and Hermes remained.
“So…either of you see anyone suspicious?”
“While there were, indeed, a few who caught my eye…I’m more inclined to believe they were simply reveling in others’ misfortunes rather than exposing themselves as the ones responsible. Some people just want to watch the world burn.”
“Pretty much the same here.”
Dionysus and Hermes reported their unfavorable news respectively, the former dressed in a fine nobleman’s suit and the latter donning a set of lightweight traveling clothes.
Loki exchanged glances with the members of her unlikely trio from her seat atop the round table.
Nothin’, huh? Well…guess we weren’t expectin’ much anyway.
It was hard to believe the mastermind instigating recent events would even dare attend a Denatus in the first place. And even someone with the audacity to make an appearance wouldn’t be foolish enough to show their true colors.
It woulda been a real find if there was a person who actually knew anything, Loki thought to herself, feeling no real sense of failure or discouragement and simply grumbling for the sake of grumbling.
“And after all the trouble I went to, too…”
Not that I didn’t have all the time in the world, what with Aiz and the others gone, she added silently.
“I’ll make sure to have some fine wines sent to your place, yes?” Dionysus answered with a wry smile at Loki’s look of malcontent, hoping it might appease the goddess.
“Well, I’ll be off, then.”
Hermes cut in suddenly.
“Whaaaaat?” Loki spun around.
“I’ve got some minor business to attend to, and I must leave the city posthaste. Preparations have already been made for the trip,” Hermes replied casually, wearing his omnipresent gentlemanly smile. He glanced down at the piece of parchment in his hand and the list of leveled-up adventurers. “I’ve procured myself quite the story for the journey, too,” he murmured to himself, crinkling his already narrow eyes. “At any rate, I leave Orario in your capable hands while I’m out. What? Don’t give me that look! I’ll be back before you know it, and we’ll be able to continue this little matter of ours then. I’ve already instructed my followers to begin collecting information. I’ll see you both later. Ta-ta!”
The impish god supplied no more details than necessary before donning his feathered traveling cap, waving good-bye with a smile, and departing.
“Wasn’t he the one calling himself just as much a victim as us…?” Loki’s brows furrowed as Dionysus narrowed his gaze.
“Well, that’s Hermes for you.”
“Speaking of, aren’t the two of you from the same region up in heaven?”
“As much as I wish that we were not,” Dionysus responded with a tired sigh. “Though, correct me if I’m wrong, that is true of you and that Hestia you were so suspicious of, as well, hm?”
The two of them threw identical looks of annoyance in the direction in which their tryingly capricious accomplices had disappeared.
“Has it really been ten days since then…?” Loki murmured from atop her cushiony sofa in the parlor room of Loki Familia’s home, Twilight Manor.
The dwarven marionettes on the automaton clock began to move, signaling the morning hour. The clock itself, along with a nearby music box, was one of many antiques decorating the orange room.
Memories of the Denatus from several days prior and what was going on behind that sham of a banquet ran through Loki’s head as she stared upward at the ceiling…before it all quickly fizzled out entirely.
“There’s nothin’ to dooooooo…I don’t even wanna get up…” Hands behind her head, she let her legs flop lazily over the edge of the sofa. She reached toward the nearby round table and the glass there, bringing the wine—which had been delivered, as promised, by one of Dionysus’s followers after Denatus—to her lips and gulping it down all at once.
She drew a number of looks from familia members passing by the room, those who hadn’t left for the expedition. They viewed their patron deity’s morning alcoholism with equal parts shock and amazement.
“Wonder if Aiz and the others’ll be back soon…” she mumbled absently into the room, which suddenly felt cavernous and lacking in female companionship. It was clear from Loki’s voice that she harbored no doubts as to her followers’ safe return.
“—Loki! Bete has returned!”
“Oh?”
Speak of the devil.
Hearing the sudden call from one of her followers out in the hallway facing the parlor room, Loki popped up into a sitting position on her sofa. She hurried after the messenger toward the manor’s main entrance.
Wait, by “Bete,” you don’t mean…only Bete, do you? she thought to herself with a little cock of her head as she entered the vast entrance hall, only to see the werewolf standing there alone.
The tattered state of his battle gear was a dead giveaway that he’d just returned from the Dungeon.
“Hey hey, Bete! Welcome back!” Loki exclaimed, fully prepared to launch herself on the werewolf despite the circumstances.
“Ah, can it! I still got things to do!” Bete answered with a well-placed sidestep, avoiding the goddess’s embrace. Instead, as though severely pressed for time, he grabbed the nearest junior members who had come to greet him, instructing them to “Bring everyone here right now! And make it fast!”
“R-roger!” they answered in stammered confusion before running off to obey his menacing command. Loki watched this play out before asking the question she’d wanted to ask since she learned of his arrival.
“Hey. Where are Finn and the others?”
Between additional orders for a backpack and meat as he made ready to head back out, Bete replied. After recounting how the entire expedition was holed up on the eighteenth floor, paralyzed by the many injured who had fallen victim to poison-vermis attacks, he explained that he needed to gather up as much of the antidote as he could find and bring it all back down into the Dungeon.
“I see.” Loki responded to the werewolf’s succinct summary of events with a nod.
“I’m headed to Dian Cecht Familia. Even if I buy up every dose they have, it probably won’t be enough, so have Rox and the others start goin’ around to item shops.”
“Okay! Should take, what…two, three days?”
Poison vermis inhabited only the lower levels, and even then they were usually not very numerous, meaning antivenin made from their secretions would be hard to come by. Even if they scoured the entire city, there was no guarantee they’d be able to find what they needed. If the stores didn’t have enough in stock and their human-wave tactics to find more failed, the only option left would be to commission Dian Cecht Familia to craft them some more.
There was, of course, always the option of asking Dea Saint, renowned for her advanced healing magic, to personally venture into the Dungeon and help the afflicted…but that would cost even more than the prohibitively expensive antivenin. While Amid would no doubt be happy to discreetly lend her aid in order to help Aiz and the others, the real problem was her patron deity, Dian Cecht. He was liable to take full advantage of the situation just as he’d done during one of their previous quests—he already charged an arm and a leg for the medical procedures Amid normally performed at their clinic.
Loki understood all of this as she listened to Bete barking out orders, and she traced an invisible check mark in the air with her finger.
“Sure ya don’t need to rest a bit, Bete? You must be bone-tired, fresh out of the Dungeon like that. Need me ta massage those broad shoulders of yers?” Loki waggled her fingers as she made a beeline for Bete’s backside.
Bete, however, only shot her a dirty look. “Enough already! I’m fine.” Shrugging on the backpack one of the familia members had brought him and gnawing voraciously at a hunk of meat still on the bone, he suddenly began rummaging through his battle jacket, almost as though a thought had just occurred to him.
He pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment. “Oh yeah. Loki,” he said, turning around.
“Whazzat?”
“It’s from Finn. Read it yer damn self,” he called as he headed for the door.
Loki glanced down at the neatly scrawled red print, a smile forming on her lips.
Finn’s handwriting detailed what had taken place on the fifty-ninth floor—“her” true form, the corrupted spirit, as well as the plot their enemies were currently concocting to bring down Orario.
“You did good, Bete,” Loki said with a smile as she watched the werewolf’s receding form leave the manor behind.
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