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CHAPTER 1 LONELY WOLF 

“This is the first time since Lefiya and the others joined that we’ve had…casualties.” 
Riveria’s heavy sigh echoed in the large room. The three of them were in the captain’s office—Riveria, Gareth, and the owner of the room himself, Finn. Though it was still early, the dizzying events of the last few days necessitated a prompt meeting. The list of things they needed to do loomed like a mountain, with the burial of their fallen companions merely being one of many duties. 
In response to the comment Riveria made from her spot at the far wall, both Finn and Gareth offered grave looks of their own. 
“The fault is ours. We weren’t able to protect Leene and the others, divided as we were…I’m sorry.” 
“A disgrace, we were. Too caught up in our own pride.” 
“I’m not blaming either of you, so stop that now. It’s simply…difficult. This is the one thing I’ve never been able to get used to. Losing those whose names and faces I’ve long etched into my heart…” 
Finn and Gareth were lamenting how they let their subordinates die while infiltrating the enemy’s hideout, but Riveria shook her head, her jade-colored eyes dropping to the floor in pain. 
The only sound in the quiet room was the continuous ticking of the tall grandfather clock. 
Almost as though standing in silent prayer, they allowed a few moments to pass with their eyes closed before Finn finally spoke. 
“We’ve no choice but to accept our loss. The one question now is, how do we reclaim our honor?” he posed, resting his elbows on the desk. There was an unusual strength to his words. At the moment, more than self-vindication and guilt, his narrowed green eyes burned with the thought of a rematch—almost like an unspoken pledge to those who’d lost their lives. 
The time to mourn the dead was over. 
They hadn’t a single moment to waste. The three familia leaders began reviewing what they knew. 
“Not that it does us much good now, but…We really underestimated those Evils blokes. That much we can say for sure.” 
“Indeed. If we can believe Valletta, the official name for that labyrinth is ‘Knossos’…” 
“A second dungeon right beneath our feet…I know the floor I reached doesn’t compare to the depths you two descended to, but I can already say now—we should leave this place alone.” 
Gareth, Finn, then Riveria spoke in turn, shifting the topic to the maze that served as their enemy’s hideout. 
The man-made labyrinth Knossos. 
Residing deep beneath the winding roads of Daedalus Street, the Evils had made it their lair, an underground maze that boasted a size and depth that was far beyond anything they knew. Finn believed it was as large as the entire city of Orario, while its depth was reached near the middle levels of the Dungeon, at least. Even for the goddess Loki, this was a discovery that defied common sense. 
“And that convoluted snarl of a dungeon wasn’t the only thing we had on our plates, either. Orichalcum doors, cursed weapons, creatures, demi-spirits…And to top it all off, that demon witch Valletta was still alive,” Gareth muttered. 
“I will say that I could hardly believe she was dead when I heard her corpse had been found after the Twenty-Seventh-Floor Nightmare six years ago…” 
The face of Gareth and Riveria’s longtime enemy wasn’t one they’d soon forget. Both of them had fought tooth and nail against the agents of the evil gods and their attempt to upset the order of Orario fifteen years ago during a period in the city’s history known as the Dark Ages. Their expressions clouded before Gareth continued. 
“The lot of ’em already packed a punch, but more important was the overwhelming advantage they had in that maze. No way they’d pick a fight outside it. Actually, there’s no point in the first place.” 
“Right. According to Aiz, there are already seven crystal orb fetuses…demi-spirits…on their way to the surface. At this point, they’re just waiting. Why plan their own strike when they can simply wait?” Riveria nodded, relaying what Aiz had reported earlier. 
After the group split up, Aiz had found tanks in Knossos’s abandoned lab. 
Though they’d been empty, she was sure the dregs still coating the broken glass had come from the spirits. Which meant the crystal orb fetuses were somewhere in that labyrinth, already evolving into the frighteningly powerful demi-spirits, just like the power bull femanoid Gareth, Tiona, and Tione had struggled against. 
“I will destroy Orario.” 
That was the ultimate goal of the creature forces belowground and the remnants of the Evils. 
And they would accomplish it, too, if all those demi-spirits fully matured—it would spell both the end of Loki Familia and the rest of Orario. 
“At any rate, we need to come up with a plan right away. We have to get back inside Knossos.” 
“That we do. Just talkin’ ain’t gonna get us anywhere.” 
The two first-tier adventurers had had their fill of grief; the melancholy had left their voices. They immediately began consolidating their ideas, Finn taking the lead. 
Once the prum captain had issued his orders to the dwarf and high elf respectively, he brought up a new topic. 
“Now that Ishtar Familia has been completely annihilated by Freya Familia…what’s the situation like?” 
“What’s there to say? Not even sure I’d know where to start. At least we know that its members have scattered to the wind…” 
“They don’t have much choice given how the person we suspected of being connected to the Evils, Ishtar herself, was sent back to Heaven. There was a high chance she had info that would’ve benefited us greatly, but…” 
It had been only three days ago that Freya Familia had attacked and destroyed Ishtar Familia. Sorting through the convoluted morass of info they’d received about this major event was merely another reason the three of them had met so early for the day’s meeting. 
“We still haven’t figured out the reason Freya Familia chose this particular moment to attack Ishtar and her people. At least from our perspective, it seems a bit more than simple bad luck.” 
“I’ve gotten a whiff of a rumor Ishtar had her hands on Freya’s man,” Gareth piped up, having been in charge of gathering info the last few days. 
“To think it would come down to something so inane…” Riveria brought a hand to her head as though sensing the approach of a headache. 
Finn, meanwhile, seemed lost in his own thoughts. “Hmm…” 
All of a sudden, Riveria came back to her senses with a start. 
“There’s one more thing, Finn. Though it has nothing to do with Knossos…” 
“And yet it must be important if your face is anything to go by. What is it?” 
Riveria’s fine brows were drawn together, creating a frown on a face beautiful enough to make the goddesses jealous, as Finn prompted her to explain. 
“It’s about Aiz and the others…No. It’s about Bete, to be specific.” 
At the mention of the werewolf’s name, identical knowing looks crossed Finn’s and Gareth’s faces. 
“Right now, among members of the familia, there’s—” 
At that very moment, the raucous sounds of a fight reached the office. 
It was coming from another of the mansion’s towers. 
“…Seems we mighta been a bit too late on this one,” Gareth murmured before heading toward the door. 
“Really, what a handful…” Finn sighed with a pained smile of his own as he followed the dwarf out. 
The last one to leave, Riveria brought a hand back to her forehead. Apparently, the headache from before was flaring up again as she quickly headed toward the hallway. 
 
“Mister Bete is unbelievable!” Raul’s shout echoed off the rafters of the large dining hall. It was breakfast time in Loki Familia’s home, Twilight Manor. But rather than eating, the members of the familia who were currently gathered were in the midst of an uproar. 
Their anger with a certain member of the familia had finally peaked. 
“How could he say something like that? That…that Leene’s and the others’ deaths were pointless?! To even think of saying something like that about your own companions…What makes him think he has the right?!” Raul sputtered. The normally indecisive, confrontation-hating peacemaker of the group was unable to hold in his rage any longer. 
“Yeah, it’s not like he’s ever been the most approachable of guys, but…this is just too much,” Anakity, herself a candidate for the familia’s upper echelons, weighed in from beside Raul. Her own anger was evident on her face. Leene had been a close friend. Anakity was attempting to keep her emotions in check, digging her nails into her arms. 
The event currently on everyone’s minds was, of course, what had transpired in Knossos. The source of their outrage was a certain werewolf who’d laughed at their companions’ deaths. 
Bete might have been a well-known powerhouse in Loki Familia, but that didn’t stop his fellow familia members from fearing and reviling the way he constantly looked down on and abused those in the lower ranks. Now that he’d even gone so far as to mock their companions’ deaths, their enmity toward the young wolf had reached a breaking point. 
Watching the tumultuous storm of condemnation swirling about the dining hall now, Lefiya stood stock-still near the door. 
“What’s wrong?” The voice belonged to Aiz, who had come running to investigate the commotion. 
“Hmm? Oh, Miss Aiz! It’s…Well…” Lefiya started, hurriedly attempting to explain the situation, but all it took was a few words for Aiz to understand what was going on. The swordswoman’s eyes quickly scanned the room. 
The red-faced, teary-eyed Raul wasn’t the only one condemning Bete. Every one of the adventurers who’d been there in that stone room shared resentment for the werewolf. The elf Alicia, the chienthrope Cruz, the human Narfi—all of them second-tier familia members just like Raul. They were not at the point of joining in openly lambasting Bete, but their mouths were certainly tense. Even Tiona and Tione were acting particularly chilly at their spot by the wall. Neither of them had been at the scene of the crime themselves, but they had obviously caught wind of what had happened. 
Aiz had never seen her fellow familia members like this before, and for a moment it left her dazed, unsure what to do. 
Not a single person present was standing up for Bete. 
Not that they would be, considering what he’d done. 
He’d simply gone too far this time. 
“…What do you think…Lefiya?” 
“M-me? I, uh, well…Of course I’m mad at Mister Bete, but, I mean…I can’t be too mad…After all, he did save you and the others…” 
She was referring to what had happened in the pantry on the twenty-fourth floor when she, Filvis, and Bete had formed a three-man party to rescue Aiz and the others. 
“After what happened down there, I always just kinda thought Mister Bete was scared, but…but after hearing what Mister Raul and the others are saying, I…I guess I don’t really know what to think…” Her directionless response quickly fizzled out. 
Aiz could empathize with her indecisiveness. It was understandable why she was leaning toward Tiona and Tione’s view. 
Lefiya’s voice was unmistakably discouraged, and she even seemed to be losing hope entirely. “…What about you, Miss Aiz?” she posed, her eyes still trained toward the ground. 
“Me? I…” 
She didn’t have an answer. 
All Aiz could think about was the look on Bete’s face. The way he’d been unable to put into words the feelings building inside him that led to irritation, then anger, before he’d finally snapped. 
“We can never repay them for what they’ve done!!” 
As Aiz was still trying to find her words, Raul’s voice cut through the food hall. 
And it was at just that moment that a certain gray-furred wolf decided to make his entrance. 
“Pretty early for y’all to be so goddamn annoying, don’t you think?” 
It was Bete. 
A sudden hush settled over the dining hall, all eyes on him. 
“M-Mister Bete…” 
He walked straight past Aiz and Lefiya, both still standing by the door in stunned silence, and into the center of the hall. His usual aura of antipathy was plain on his face, and one of his lupine ears lay flat in indignation. 
His appearance, however, solicited a variety of responses from the crowd of adventurers. Some cowered in fear, others furrowed their brows in anger, while still others couldn’t hide the animosity building up inside them. But one thing they all had in common—their castigation of Bete. 
Bete, however, was the same as always despite having opponents on every side. 
“Moan, moan, whine, whine. If you’ve got somethin’ to say, say it to my face! You little shits can’t do anything on your own!” 
Every brow in the room rose. Raul even seemed ready to lunge forward. But Bete paid their reactions no mind and simply made his way lazily toward a nearby chair. 
Or he would have if a certain copper-colored leg hadn’t blocked his path. 
“M-Misses Tiona and Tione…” Lefiya whispered, her eyes trembling as she watched the twin Amazonian sisters step in front of Bete. 
Tione’s eyes were narrowed in icy wrath, and even Tiona’s smile had disappeared as she glared at the werewolf. 
“You got a beef with me, Amazons?” 
“…” 
Tione didn’t respond. Her sister, however, did. 
“Don’t you feel anything, Bete?” 
“…” 
“Leene and the others—they’re dead. Don’t you understand that? You’ll never be able to see them again!” Tiona’s voice was quiet amid the protective gazes of her peers. 
She continued: 
“Leene liked you, you know?…You really don’t feel anything?” 
The question, coupled with Tione’s silent glower, was the last straw. 
The room fell utterly still. 
Bete said nothing for a moment. Then—he laughed. 
“Sorry to burst her bubble, but I hate weak girls most of all.” 
His words were the trigger. 
All of a sudden, the bodies of the two sisters became a blur. 
Their faces blank, they came at the wolf and his unchanging, characteristic derisive smile. 
From the left came a punch and, from the right, a front kick aimed at his head. 
Some of the women in the room yelped. But before the two iron hammers could fall—they were stopped by a massive fist and a long spear, respectively. 
“That’ll do, you two.” 
“Gareth…!” 
“Any further and this will have gotten entirely out of hand.” 
“Captain…!” 
Gareth’s fist had grabbed Tiona’s wrist, and the handle of Finn’s spear had blocked Tione’s kick. The two of them had raced into the dining hall just in time. 
Joining them was Aiz, standing firmly in front of Bete. Despite being empty-handed, she’d reached out to restrain the werewolf’s arm, already extended in the process of delivering a counterstrike. 
Lefiya and the others had barely been able to respond, all of them frozen where they stood. They gulped at what had just transpired in front of them. 
“Outta my way, Captain! This piece of shit thinks—!” 
“As a high-level member of this familia, you have a standard to uphold, Tione. Or is that not what I’ve always told you?” 
Tione bit down on her lip, Finn’s unwavering gaze cooling the fire that had been about ready to rage out of control inside her. She scowled at Bete. 
Bete also stood down, cursing beneath his breath. 
“Ain’t it a little early to be gettin’ all riled up, guys? You’re a real hot-blooded bunch, you know that?” 
“L-Loki…” 
The familia’s patron goddess herself strolled into the dining hall past Lefiya at the door. Her vermilion eyes took in the explosive situation currently gripping the hall before widening ever so slightly. 
“That’s enough, Bete. Get outta here and go cool off.” 
“…Hmph.” The wolf cursed beneath his breath but did as he was told. Turning his back on Aiz, he made his way out the door. 
Riveria took the opportunity to approach him, moving from where she’d been watching over the proceedings to stand in front of Bete. 
“Whaddaya want, ya old hag? You wanna have a go, too—?” 
“I’d choose my words more carefully if I were you, Bete,” the high elf queen warned, half interrupting the wolf’s tirade. “I don’t care how you choose to feel, but that’s no reason not to mourn the loss of your companions.” 
Bete snorted. “Oh yeah? And what’s mourning gonna do for ’em? I’d cry myself to sleep every night if it’d do a damn thing. But it won’t, will it?” 
“…” 
“They died ’cause they’re weak. Or am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong, huh? I’m not gonna deny what’s true.” He looked back over at the group behind him. “You bastards, too. You slow us down and that’s what happens!” he spat before pushing past Riveria and leaving through the door. 
Tiona clenched her fists as Tione kicked over a nearby chair with an enraged yell. “Piece of shit!” This earned her a swift smack on the back of her head from Finn’s spear before Loki, Finn, Gareth, and Riveria all heaved a simultaneous sigh. 
“This has really gotten out of hand. At this rate, it may end up forming a rift in the familia,” Finn lamented, turning away from Tione, who was squatting on the ground with her hands to the back of her head. 
“Maybe a bit late in sayin’ this, but…that boy may have been more trouble than he’s worth,” Gareth mused. 
“We knew this would happen…sooner or later…” Riveria agreed as she made her way over to rejoin the two. One eye closed, she scanned the dining hall while the lower-level familia members around her trembled in fear. Raul and some others continued to stare daggers at the door Bete had gone through. 
“C’mon, people! Enough of this, yeah? I’m starvin’! Fix me up a heapin’ big plate of the good stuff, won’t ya, Lefiya?” The sound of Loki’s relaxed voice sliced through the tension. “Food, food, I need food!” 
“Huh? I, erm, o-okay…” Lefiya sputtered at the goddess’s carefree request before she and the others quickly moved to obey. 
“…” 
Only Aiz stood alone, the clatter of plates on the table ringing in her ears as she gazed toward the corridor where she had last seen the young werewolf. 
 
There was still much information to be gathered—not only to further their knowledge of the events in Knossos but also to investigate Freya Familia’s attack on Ishtar Familia. That night, the members of Loki Familia were issued their respective orders. 
It was around that time that Bete was making his way down the hall, one eye on the sun setting over the city through the nearby window. 
“…Hmph.” 
Everywhere he went, his fellow familia members fled. They didn’t even look him in the eye, never mind utter a greeting. In the hallway, in the parlor room, everyone he passed kept that same silent distance. Not even Raul or Cruz, the two he’d spent the most time with, acknowledged his existence. The second they noticed him coming down the hall, the emotion left their faces as they passed by in silence. 
“Ah…M-Mister Bete.” 
Then there was Lefiya. 
The young elf glanced up at him when they unexpectedly encountered each other, looking as though she was about to say something— 
“This way, Lefiya!” 
“M-Miss Tiona! Miss Tione…” 
But before she could finish, Tiona and Tione arrived to grab her arm, pulling her away from the werewolf. Normally, the Amazons would start fighting with him the moment they made eye contact, but this time, they didn’t so much as glance at him. 
People had a tendency to change gears once their anger had risen too much. They began to ignore the source of their anger, behaving as though it didn’t even exist. 
That was exactly what was happening to Bete. 
It made him feel like he was walking on a bed of nails. While he wasn’t so emotionally delicate that their treatment bothered him, he also wasn’t so uncaring as to simply do nothing and take it. 
Bete was well aware that his refusal to behave any differently from normal painted him as the ultimate evil to the rest of his familia. 
“—Bete. I don’t know how much we can do for you.” 
An hour earlier, he had been summoned by Finn after his duties for the day had come to an end. 
“It doesn’t matter what Riveria, Gareth, or I say—none of it’s likely to get through to Raul and the others. While I’ve no wish for dissension in this familia, I’m also aware that no amount of persuasion is going to help. Quite the opposite, really.” 
The two of them had been in Finn’s office, the prum sitting at his desk with shoulders sagging. 
“If we covered for you, we’d simply bring the hostility of the familia onto ourselves. And, unfortunately, I’m not really in a position to let myself become a target at the moment.” 
They didn’t want any outrage directed at them. It was such a refreshingly honest answer, Bete couldn’t even be mad. It wasn’t an issue of Finn’s personal preference, either, only an objective decision. After all, the familia’s morale would take a big hit if its members disagreed with their leaders. And with the underground organization of creatures and the Evils’ Remnants practically at their doorstep, they had to be at the top of their game. This wasn’t the time for discord among their ranks. 
Bete knew this, which was why he hadn’t interrupted Finn’s speech. 
“Thus, I’m placing you on leave. Once all this dies down, you can return to the manor. Until then, I ask that you stay at an inn. I’ll provide you with the funds—though I doubt you’ll accept them,” Finn finished, placing a bag of coins atop the desk separating them. 
Unsurprisingly, Bete pushed it back with an “I don’t need this shit.” 
Bete didn’t care about money. All he cared about was the Dungeon. And he wasn’t about to let someone else become involved with his personal problems—which was exactly what Finn had been afraid of. Bete couldn’t shake the look of sympathy Finn had directed toward him as he’d left the room. 
There was no place for him right now in Twilight Manor. 
“…Hmph.” 
Grumbling beneath his breath, he made his way toward the main entrance. There was no one there to see him off. The only witness to his exit was the scarlet sky smoldering overhead. 
His destination was the Flaming Wasp, a pub in Orario’s fifth ward. 
It was just one of many pubs in the sprawling Shopping District located at the city’s southern quarter. Nestled into one of the many alleyways some distance from the main road, the pub was distinguishable from the surrounding buildings by the bright-red wasp signpost hanging from its wall. 
This establishment was well-known for its wasp liquor—colored a red so deep, it might as well have been liquefied ruby, and boasting a fiery heat that burned the throats and stomachs of its patrons. The combination of its unique flavor and the pain drew regulars back time and time again. That night, as the sun neared the horizon, the Flaming Wasp was indeed a hive of activity as per usual. 
Normally, Bete would be here with Raul and the others. This time, however, he had no company for obvious reasons. Nevertheless, he was fully prepared to drink in solitude…or at least, he had been. 
“…What the hell you doin’ here, Aiz?” 
“…Because I felt like it?” 
Bete’s lips curled into a scowl at the golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman cocking her head from the other side of the table for two. 
Had she followed him from the manor? Either way, she was sitting across from him. Even among the raucous cacophony of drunken patrons surrounding them at their center table, a strange aura seemed to settle over the two of them. 
“You follow me?” 
“…I did.” 
“And why the hell would you do somethin’ like that?” 
“You looked…lonely?” 
“Like hell I did!” 
Bete brought his mug down hard on the table, interrupting the halting conversation he was having with the girl of few words. Aiz, however, just tilted her head curiously. 
Around them, the carefree jubilance of the other patrons continued, oblivious to Bete’s inner turmoil. There was a whole host of customers today, everything from dwarven adventurers to humans, animal people, and even a few Amazons. The prum girl tending to them was in constant motion bringing out orders of liquor and food. 
But some of them also seemed to be foregoing drink, and some were throwing glances at Bete and Aiz. More than a few, in fact. They were Loki Familia’s Vanargand and Sword Princess, after all. No matter where they went in the city, they were likely to draw attention—that was simply what it meant to be a first-tier adventurer. Aiz’s looks, in particular, drew more than a few lewd gazes. Bete was quick to glower back at the demi-human culprits, who responded by keeping their eyes well enough to themselves afterward. 
Bete had no problem with Aiz sitting there. What he did have a problem with was her silence. 
She ordered nothing and simply sat there, staring at him prettily from across the table as Bete’s features twisted into an expression of discomfort far greater than anything he’d displayed back at the manor. 
Then his drink arrived, mistakenly placed in front of Aiz. 
He grabbed and downed it before Aiz even had a chance to react. 
“…So? You’re here…why? Finn ask you to come babysit me?” 
“Finn…? No, this has nothing to do with…Finn…” 
“Then why the hell come here?” 
“I guess I was…worried about you…” 
“—GBWWOOOFFF?!” 
Bete choked on his drink, drawing a startled look from Aiz. 
Though flustered for a moment, he quickly recovered. “Goddamn airhead doesn’t even realize what she’s saying…” he mumbled begrudgingly, leaving Aiz more than a little bewildered. 
I suppose I…haven’t spoken with Bete very often… 
She thought to herself, reflecting on how this was the first time she and the werewolf had done anything alone together outside of battle (and consequently missing the fact that Bete was downing drinks at an increasing pace). 
Similar to Tiona and her sister, Bete had also converted to Loki Familia from a different familia. It had been almost six years since then, which was before the two Amazonian sisters had joined. He’d looked down on her back then, but after seeing her combat prowess in the Dungeon, he’d changed his mind, eventually growing to even respect her. 
His previous familia was Ví?arr Familia. 
Aiz had heard from Finn that he’d left them on bad terms. In fact, Ví?arr Familia itself didn’t even reside in Orario anymore. Even though she’d known Bete longer than Tiona and Tione, she still felt like she didn’t understand anything about him. 
…When I think of Bete… 
The emotion she usually held was doubt—specifically, wondering whether he had taken something too far. 
His strength was unquestionable. In fact, she couldn’t help but think the werewolf’s views on strength were quite similar to her own. In that regard, he was considerably different from those like Tiona, who simply enjoyed fighting for fighting’s sake. 
These thoughts running through her head, Aiz finally spoke up again. 
“Why is it you…look down on others so much?” 
“Huh?” 
Bete’s face had already taken on a decidedly reddish hue from his continued alcohol consumption. He shot Aiz a curious look before curling his lips into a smile. 
“Weaksticks are weaksticks. What’s wrong with lookin’ down on those weaker ’n you? They’re pathetic.” 
Aiz closed her mouth at the werewolf’s response. 
No. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d get the same exact results Riveria and Tiona always did. 
Instead, she tried to rethink her question. 
“Okay, then…What is it that drives you…to become stronger?” 
“…” 
It was a question she felt would provide her an answer similar to her own. 
If Bete really did share the same reasoning as her, the same unyielding tenacity to grow stronger, then maybe, just maybe she might be able to uncover what it was that made him tick. 
Bete was silent for a few moments, then smirked. 
“Isn’t this a rare treat. You actually showin’ interest in someone ’sides yourself.” 
“…” 
“Pretty rich coming from the girl who never said anything about herself and didn’t care about anything ’cept crushin’ monster skulls.” 
“Ngh!” 
Aiz’s eyes narrowed, her mouth opening for an instinctive retort, but Bete continued before she could find her words. 
“How ’bout this, then? I show you mine; you show me yours? I’ll answer if you answer, too.” 
“!” 
Aiz didn’t have a response. All she could do was avert her eyes. 
Bete knew she wouldn’t answer, and he didn’t blame her for it, either. Instead, he simply continued, words hissing out between his teeth. 
“Don’t get so upset, Aiz. S’not like there’s a point in carin’ about other people’s problems. Let ’em care about themselves.” Finishing up a glass of wasp liquor, he tossed it down on the table. “You’re strong. That’s all that matters.” 
“…” 
“So long as we keep stayin’ strong, we’ll be fine.” 
He was looking straight into her eyes now, almost as if he was trying to advise her through his intoxicated haze. 
“When you’re strong, you can do anything. You’ll never have anything taken away from you.” 
But then, his grave expression shifted into a glib smile. 
“For instance, I could serve up the chicken livers of all these cowards to go with my drinks!” His voice was booming now, loud enough to swallow up the cacophonous frivolity of the entire bar. Ignoring Aiz’s shock, he put his arm on the back of his chair and let his eyes travel the room. “You hear that, you yellow-bellied shits? Keep on yukkin’ it up! I’m sick of you and your pig-ass faces! Every day, killin’ nothin’ but small fries! Is that how you wanna live? Spendin’ your measly-ass coins for watered-down piss like this? What the hell kinda life is that?!” 
The entire bar went silent as Bete’s words echoed against the rafters. It didn’t take long for things to go south from there, as murderous gazes turned toward Bete from every corner of the room. 
“Bete!” 
“Stay outta this, Aiz! You know I’m not wrong! All they’ve got going for them is numbers. There ain’t a single one of ’em with the guts to fight back on their own!” 
And it was true. Despite the multitude of scowls, the adventurers in the pub were quick to back off at the wolf’s antagonistic peal of laughter. Averting their eyes, lowering their eyes, even, their actions seemed to confirm the slander being thrown at them. 
“What a bunch of sorry losers…If you can’t even defend yourself now, how the hell are you supposed to defend yourself in a real battle? Cowards! Every last one of you!” 
But even as their faces reddened and their fists trembled in anger, the armor-clad adventurers could do nothing. There wasn’t a single person in the pub who stood up to Bete’s mockery. They were far too afraid of the true “monsters” of the Dungeon—the first-tier adventurers. 
Even Aiz with her general lack of emotion found herself brimming with anger, and she moved to put a stop to Bete’s tirade, but then… 
“—How charming.” 
Someone moved forward to step in front of Bete before she could. 
It was an Amazonian prostitute, stepping away from the rest of her group in a corner of the pub, her long, silky black hair swaying behind her. 
“Aisha Belka…” 
“Antianeira.” 
The murmurs from the crowd identified her, and Bete and Aiz immediately recognized her and her crew as part of the Berbera and former members of Ishtar Familia. They were a strong group of women, most of them second-tier adventurers at Level 3. And from the looks of it, they’d been continuing to meet for drinks even though they had all converted to different familias after Ishtar’s return to the upper world—a ritual that Bete had just interrupted with his earlier spiel. 
“Don’t group us with the rest of these fools. My sisters and I aren’t so spineless as to take your insults sitting down…First-tier or not, don’t get full of yourself.” Her final words were so low that they sounded practically murderous. 
The rage burning inside her after listening to Bete’s rant was tangible, and it seemed her fellow Amazons lined up behind her weren’t too pleased, either. Her eyes flashing, her clothes revealing much of her copper-colored skin, she had the aura of someone all too familiar with the brawl scene. 
“Ha! So the fishies wanna play?” Bete’s lips pulled back in a ferocious grin as he watched the group of Amazons rise to their feet. He almost seemed elated. “You learn to use that mouth of yours in bed, you whore? You want my foot to bash your skull in?!” he shouted, once more rising to his feet and sending his chair flying. 
“Bete, stop—!” Aiz started, leaping up in an attempt to stop the fight, but her cry was quickly swallowed up by the crowing of the Amazons. 
“Bring it on, you uncivilized mutt! I’ll enjoy beating the shit out of you!” 
And with jeers from the surrounding patrons egging the combatants on, the fight began. Plates, chairs, tables, blood—everything went flying. Screams and shouts shook the walls, even while the dwarven pub owner stood calmly wiping plates by the counter as though this happened every night. 
Abandoned and alone, Aiz stood off to the side in shock as a grand brawl erupted around her. 
As a soft sliver of the moon peeked through the clouds, the quiet curtain of night fell once again as the furor cooled. 
One after another, the pale-faced patrons of the bar watched the bodies pile up on the floor. 
“Heh. All bark and no bite, I see.” 
“Gnngh…!” 
Bete had his hand wrapped around Aisha’s neck. She was the only one left out of more than ten Berbera he’d already taken down. They hadn’t even been able to scratch him. 
Aisha, however, refused to give up, fighting against him even as he curled his fingers tighter around her throat. 
“Vanargand…!” 
The outcome may have been decided, but the glint in her eyes had yet to dissipate. 
Her continued ferocity despite the pain made Bete grin all the more. 
He would end her right here, right now. 
“Let her go.” 
The edge of a blade met his throat—Aiz’s sword, Desperate. 
Bete’s smile was gone in an instant, and he turned to see the Sword Princess shooting him an icy glare. 
The fight was over. The Amazons had fallen, the spark inside them soundly snuffed. This wasn’t simply self-defense anymore. That’s what Aiz was saying. 
Bete did as he was told, letting out the last of his malice with a huff before releasing his grip on Aisha’s throat. Aisha herself fell to the ground, choking and sputtering. 
“Why do you…always have to hurt people like this?” Aiz asked, attempting to find her words. 
With his fist. With his words. 
Bete didn’t have an answer. 
Aiz’s gaze never left him, even as the other wounded Amazons gathered around Aisha. 
“That’s what I…hate about you.” 
“…Heh. That so?” Bete snorted. “I’m done here,” he said, walking away. He tossed a bag of coins toward the dwarf behind the counter before turning toward the door, not even bothering to throw a look of contempt at the group of Amazons glaring up at him from the floor. 
The same scowls of resentment that had accompanied him in Loki Familia’s dining hall followed him all the way out of the building. 
Bete threw them a glance before letting the wooden door clatter behind him on his way out. 
“…” 
Aiz herself remained silent, still standing in the center of the room with her brows lowered in heartache. Not even she made to follow him this time. 



 


 
The Shopping District was a bevy of activity. 
The twinkling lights, the flashing windows of casinos and theaters—Bete pushed past it all without so much as raising his head, almost as though attempting to escape the gaudy effulgence. He preferred the dim blue glow of the moon overhead to man-made lamps. 
On and on he walked until, upon reaching a deserted bend in the road, he lowered himself to a crouch. 
Or perhaps it should be said he dropped into a froggish squat. 
“I’ve really done it now…” 
The antagonizing smirk from earlier was nowhere to be found; instead, he hung his head dejectedly as the self-deprecating words tumbled to the stone below. 
This happens every time you drink too much…Damn loose tongue, then starting a fight… 
Already, the alcohol had left his system, leaving him in cold sobriety. Aiz’s words had made sure of that. Her straight-faced “That’s what I hate about you” had taken care of the buzz like a direct hit from her Airiel. 
He didn’t regret what he’d done. What he’d said. No, it was far too late for that. He didn’t even care about the cold stares he’d received as he’d left the bar. What bothered him now were Aiz’s words. He didn’t even know why they were affecting him so much. Not too long ago, Bete had caused a ruckus at The Benevolent Mistress when he made fun of that kid who resembled a rabbit, comparing him to a tomato and whatnot, but this commotion might have been the last straw. 
It was as though a whirlpool of self-loathing had opened up beneath him. That he was one of those very same cowardly adventurers he’d been vilifying only minutes earlier. Bete was finally reaping what he’d sown, and this thought sent his tail drooping to the ground below. 
If there had been anyone around to see him, they surely would have been unable to believe their eyes. “Goddammit…” he muttered, letting out a sigh that shook his entire body. 
Just as he was thinking he would like to just pass out on the cobblestones right then and there— 
“There you are, Bete Loga!” 
—an annoyingly cheerful voice called out from behind him. 
“…Whaa—?” 
Glancing back, he saw an Amazonian woman. Though perhaps “young girl” would have been a more accurate description. She was clearly far from maturity; her copper-colored arms and legs were slender and lean, and her chest, while larger than Tiona’s (not that this was a difficult accomplishment), couldn’t be called more than a slight bulge. A short vest covered her torso, and hanging from her hips was what could barely be considered a loincloth—it covered slightly more area than what the other Amazons might wear, but it was still considerably revealing, her belly button bared to the world. The only part of her appearance that wasn’t childish was her long black hair, currently done up in a ponytail. 
At the moment, she had her finger pointed in Bete’s direction, cheeks flushed with excitement, golden earrings jangling, and looking very much like a small dog about to pounce on him. 
“I can’t believe I finally get to see you after all this time!” 
“Who the hell are you…?” Bete started, rising to his feet and taking a few steps backward as the girl landed in front of him with a mighty thud. 
Bete was fully prepared to land a kick with his Frosvirt if she took so much as one more step toward him. The girl, however, seemed oblivious to that as shock appeared in her euphoric smile. 
“Hey! You didn’t forget me, did you? I remember you, after all! I could never forget you, Bete Loga!” 
“Like hell I’d be associated with a dopey Amazon like you! And stop tossin’ my name around like that, you little shit!” Bete spat back, clearly irritated at the young girl and her refusal to listen. 
“How rude! And after everything you already did to me, too!” 
She was annoying. So annoying. A different kind of annoying from Tiona. This wasn’t one of those “hyperactive wackos” Loki was always talking about, was it? 
Or was she simply that excited? 
About what? Meeting him? 
One of Bete’s eyebrows arched skyward. 
He didn’t have any memory of this little girl, but there was something about her shrill squawking that seemed to trigger something in his brain. 
“Wait a minute…You’re one of those whores from Ishtar Familia we fought in Meren…!” 
“Bingo! That’s me! Do you remember me now? Huh? Huh?” She was nodding fervently now, eyes sparkling. 
It had been back when he and the rest of the familia’s men had gone to aid Aiz and the others in Port Meren outside the city—when Kali Familia had made Tiona and Tione perform that sadistic rite and Ishtar Familia had faced off against them on the docks. Yes, this girl had been there. She’d aimed a scimitar right at his back after he’d gone into beast mode and subdued that ugly frog of a woman, Phryne. He hadn’t been able to see her face thanks to the clothes she’d been wearing, but he did remember landing a heavy punch right on that stomach. 
What was it one of the other Amazons had called her…? 
“I’m Lena! Lena Tully! So you better not forget it this time, Bete Loga!” She finished his thought cheerily, face beaming. “Oh, right! I heard you just had a big, huge fight with Aisha and the others, huh? Man, talk about bad timing on my part! I went and missed the whole thing! What a missed opportunity!” 
It seemed this girl, Lena, had been en route to meet Aisha and the other Amazons at the Flaming Wasp for drinks. Then what—had she shown up to see her friends on the ground, heard what happened, then come running after him…? Looking at her all restless and fidgety and clutching her cheeks now, Bete figured that was probably what happened. 
But why…? What’s this brat’s deal?! 
Bete’s brows furrowed even lower as he watched the girl continue to giggle and squirm like a puppy. Bete wasn’t exactly a popular guy. He was well aware of this. Used to it, even. Answering others’ malice and hostility with snubs of his own was pretty much an everyday occurrence for him. 
But this girl was different. In fact, she actually seemed to like him. 
Him. The lone wolf even the members of his own familia feared, wouldn’t come close to. 
“Hey, hey, hey! Wanna grab a drink or somethin’? We don’t have to go back to where Aisha and the others are if you don’t want. We can go somewhere else! Just the two of us!” 
…Not only that, she was close. Ridiculously close. 
This woman. 
“Get the hell away from me, would ya? Just who the hell you think you are?” 
“It’s Lena! Like I said earlieeer, Bete Loga!” 
“That’s not what I meant and you know it! And didn’t I already tell you to stop tossin’ my name around like that?!” 
He simply couldn’t understand this chick. Why was she being so clingy? Somehow he could already hear his own emphatic goddess’s words ringing in his head: “Oh-ho! Look at you, Mister Popular!” 
“You look right here, you Amazonian brat. I don’t even know you, so stop actin’ like we’re best friends or somethin’, yeah?” Bete shouted as he attempted to bat the girl away. 
“But I can’t heeeelp it! I’ve fallen for you!” 
At this, Bete came to a stop. 
He stared at her, his lupine ears twitching. 
Looked back down into that wistful expression. 
He saw eyes that resembled two bright-orange pearls, not much different from Bete’s own, directing a sultry, seductive gaze at him. 
More specifically, it was the expression of an Amazon who was sizing up her prey— 
—Now hold on just a goddamn second here! 
The face in front of him now was one he knew all too well. 
It was the face of an Amazon in search of her mate. And the same face Tione gave Finn as she chased him halfway around the world. 
A shiver snaked its way up Bete’s spine. 
“I haven’t been the same since I saw you that day in Meren, Bete Loga. I’m a changed woman! Just thinking about you turning those handsome dark eyes my way gives me tingles all over!” 
For you see, Amazons were attracted to strong men. 
Amazons gave their hearts away to any strong male who could best them. 
This oh-so-troubling tribal tradition dawning on him, Bete pulled his lips back in a terrified grimace, tattoo and all. Certainly, he had “bested her” that night in Meren. It had been a one-hit kill, the extraordinary power of his beast form turning his fist into a veritable hammer of iron. 
—And now she was in heat! 
Suddenly, everything made sense. 
As he stood there, glued to the ground, Lena continued to gaze longingly at him, fingertips grazing her slender chin as she let out a libidinous sigh. 
“It was fate, you know? The moment your fist plunged its way into my stomach…I just knew we were meant to be!” 
Thinking back, he had felt a sort of ominous chill as he’d blown her away. 
But to think it would mean this. That beating the shit out of her would actually attract her to him. Amazons are too strange! 
“…My confession may be a little out of order, but know that my feelings are true! I love you, Bete Loga!” she finished, head popping upward and both arms outstretched as she leaped toward him. “My heart beats for you, Bete Loga! Have my children!” 
Just in time, Bete noticed her coming for him, and he curled his hand into a fist. 
“Guwauugh?!” 
His response to this once-in-a-lifetime confession was none other than a full-throttle wolf punch to the gut. 
Lena curled in on herself before crumpling to the stone below, and the sound of the collision brought Bete back to his senses. 
“H-hey…you alive?” 
Damn. He’d really put everything into that one. Anyone would be down for the count after a direct hit like that from a first-tier adventurer. The moment he showed concern, however— 
“Heh…heh-heh-heh-heh…! You did it again…Right in the baby-maker…Now I’ll…definitely get pregnant…! 
What the hell?! 
Bete instantly took a step backward. 
The girl was a terrifying writhing mass moaning on top of the stone, both hands to her exposed belly. The drool leaking from her ghastly smile only added to the effect. 
Suddenly, the very same Bete who had never turned his back on a battle before wanted so badly to get the hell out of there. 
“…There ain’t a single one of you Amazons who’s worth a damn.” 
Cough-cough. “That’s not…true…At least we’re…always true to…ourselves…” Lena muttered, rising to her feet with a lurch like a zombie. Despite the teary smile on the girl’s face, there was something almost sobering about the image, and Bete narrowed his eyes. 
“You do know I just beat the shit out of your friends, right?” 
“I sure do! And I think it’s amazing! To think you’re even stronger than Aisha and the others—it gives me chills! It makes me love you even more!!” 
There was no getting rid of this girl. 
It didn’t matter what he tried; he’d never win. Realizing this, he simply turned around and started walking away. 
“W-wait! Where are you going?!” 
“Gonna get some actual sleep! At an inn! Don’t follow me!” 
But, of course, the girl was hot on his heels. 
Black ponytail bobbing up and down, she cocked her head to the side curiously. “An inn…? Why not your home?” 
Bete could have punched himself. Him and his damn mouth. 
“Don’t tell me…You got into a fight with your familia? And now you don’t have anywhere to go? Is that it? Huh? Is that it?!” 
Shut the hell up. 
He spun around, only to see Lena bouncing about in her most disgusting display of excitement yet. He wanted to hit her so badly. 
“Come back with me, then! I’ve got a nice bed! It should fit two people just fine!” 
“Like hell! I’ll choose where I spend the night myself, thank you very much!” 
“Do you have money, though, Bete Loga? Huh? The hotels around here are veeeeery expensive!” 
Bete stopped cold at this, his second error in judgment dawning on him. 
—Shit. I don’t have any money. 
The bag of money he’d tossed so haughtily at the owner of the Flaming Wasp to pay for the damages had been everything he had. 
Sure, he could head to the Dungeon now and make as much as he wanted, but…to be honest, that was more work than he was willing to do right now. What’s more, he didn’t have a single person he’d call a friend outside of the familia, which meant he truly had no place to go. Bete was surely and truly the most despised adventurer in all of Orario. 
As though attuned to the subtleties of Bete’s mind, Lena sidled next to him. “Stop right there, my good sir! Have I got the inn for you! Won’t cost you a thing, and it comes with some mighty fine company, to boot! Our girls will keep you satisfied all night long!” 
“Mighty fine company”…Just how cocky is this chick?! 
Bete shot her a menacing look. 
Looked straight into those hopeful orange eyes—and made up his mind. He wouldn’t go with her if she was the last girl on earth!…But then a new idea seemed to cross her mind, her eyes flashing. 
“If you won’t come with me, then I’ll go to Loki Familia’s manor! I’ll yell ‘Heeey, this guy assaulted me!’” 
“The hell?! Gimme a break! This’s got nothin’ to do with my familia. You go there and I’ll straight-up grind you to a pulp, you little shit!” 
“I wouldn’t mind! It would be a dream come true to be killed by the man I love!” 
Now Bete was really starting to sweat. 
Any other day of the week, he’d have been fine teaching this girl a lesson, but his current situation put him between a rock and a hard place. No doubt, everyone would think he’d gotten drunk and assaulted some kid, which would make it considerably more difficult (if not impossible) to restore his dignity in the familia. Tiona, Raul, and the others would truly lose all respect for him. No, laying a finger on Lena would only bring him more trouble than it was worth. 
What’s more, this chick was actually considering attacking Loki Familia, the greatest familia in the city, without even thinking about what this would spell for her own familia. Was this complete disregard for the means she took to sate her own lust just another one of the “bonuses” that came with being a running-on-instinct Amazon? 
Anguished, Bete felt an overwhelming rush of anger rise up in him. 
Face flushed and teeth grinding against one another, he finally grumbled: “…This is never happening again, you hear? If I stay tonight, you better run like hell if you ever pull a stunt like this again!” 
“Hooray! No worries! I’ll never extort you ever again! At least not like this!” 
“You p-piece of crap!” Bete sputtered as Lena hopped about with a complete lack of concern. Cheeks now a brilliant pink, she grabbed Bete’s arm and started walking. 
“Let’s get going, then! This place’ll be so much nicer than an inn—I promise!” 
“Stop pullin’ me, you damn whore! Let go of meeeeeeeee!” 
 
And so, the two of them continued like that, Bete still struggling to shake the girl off him, for some ten, twenty minutes. The place Lena was leading him to was in the city’s fourth district to the southeast. 
“Hey! Isn’t this the Pleasure Quarter…?” 
“I-it’s nothing like that! This isn’t some shady brothel where you’re gonna get ripped off, I promise!” 
The bewitching flush of the magic-stone lamps and telltale bawdy musk of the Night District surrounding them, Bete glared down at Lena as though she were a goblin or some other impish creature. Lena, however, hastily attempted to explain herself. 
He has a fight with his familia and then runs off with some harlot in the Pleasure Quarter! Bete could already hear the gossip. It was enough to spur him toward the back alleyways and away from prying eyes, though it seemed Lena was actually headed toward the other side of the southeastern main street, where the third district met the northern tip of the Pleasure Quarter. 
“I joined a new familia after Ishtar was sent home, but bringing a man back with me so soon after converting might not be the best idea.” 
“I’m pretty sure bringing someone from another familia would never be a good idea…” 
“That’s why we’re going somewhere else! A secret place!” she insisted before strolling right into a very obvious no-entry zone. Pulling Bete along, she guided him deftly past the guards the Guild had assigned to keep everyone out. 
“Is this…Ishtar Familia territory?” 
“Used to be.” 
The once prosperous city of iniquity had been reduced to nothing more than rubble and ash after the loss of its goddess. Its many brothels were in a horrid state of disrepair, their walls collapsed, roofs in pieces, and shutters littering the streets. There were even large halls still bearing the crosscuts of cinder and flame. The entire estate was devoid of light, most of its magic-stone lanterns snuffed and leaving it illuminated only by the moon. It was empty, not a soul in sight. 
It might as well have been a castle city ransacked by an enemy nation, still in ruins after its fall. And there in the middle of it all soared Belit Babili, Ishtar Familia’s former home, bearing its own fair share of wounds. The resistance against Freya Familia, against the Goddess of Beauty’s blitzkrieg, had turned the district of ill repute into rubble in the course of a single night, and it was currently scheduled for redevelopment. 
“Freya Familia pretty much went to town, but the building itself’s still surprisingly intact. All right! We’re here!” 
It turned out the “secret place” Lena had so professed was a building situated right next to one of the city walls to the southeastern corner of Orario’s already southeastern-most third district. It was a four-story abode that drew heavily from the culture and architecture of the Kaios Desert of the middle continent. Its stone had been lacquered white, which, when coupled with the elaborately designed windows, made for an impressive sight. No doubt, it had been a high-class establishment back when it was still in business. From its position hidden away on one of the neighborhood’s side streets, it was easy to see how famous top-tier adventurers and ambassadors from other countries might have slipped in and out unnoticed. 
Bete observed everything with apathy as Lena dragged him inside. 
“Only Aisha and a few others even know about this place. It’s like my castle! I used it as a place to sleep until a room freed up in my new familia.” 
The vacant brothel was, indeed, luxurious. The hallway connecting to the main entrance was well-furnished, from the velvet sofa covered in a thin layer of dust, to the gorgeously vibrant rug, to the bevy of expensive-looking vases. Just when Bete was thinking this place would be easy pickings for thieves: “It’s gonna be redeveloped, yeah? So the guards here keep everyone out, even those bums who come down from Daedalus Street,” Lena explained. “That means we’ve gotta be careful, too, yeah? Don’t wanna get caught, so ix-nay on the ights-lay!” she continued, bringing her hands together in a pleading gesture. 
“Whatever,” Bete simply tossed back in response. “Can I just take whichever room I want?” 
“Ah! Wait, wait, wait, wait! H-higher is better! The top floor! That’s where the best room is! And you can definitely, definitely still use it!” Lena quickly blurted as Bete prepared to start investigating the place on his own. 
Bete narrowed his eyes in suspicion…only to see the girl reaching a hand toward her glossy hair. With a swish, she pulled out the blue clasp that had been keeping her hair up, letting the long black strands cascade down her back and create a much more sensual image. In that instant, she transformed from an innocent child into a woman well versed in the ways of love, her eyes narrowing like a small cat’s as she shot him her most sensational smile yet. 
Bete, however, couldn’t have cared less. 
Hands still shoved in his pockets and brows lowered in disinterest, he simply trudged up the stairs. 
“Huh…? H-hey!” 
But he ignored the impassioned cries coming from below, not stopping until he made it to the top floor and kicking open a nearby door that wasn’t entirely closed. 
The carpet here was much fancier compared to the one in the hallway, and rather than magic-stone lanterns, candlestick sconces had been affixed to the walls for mood lighting. As for the room itself, it was big enough that ten people could have lounged in it easily, and a grand four-poster bed stood alongside the wall, its long columns stretching toward the ceiling. It was every bit a VIP room. 
There was the faint smell of something still coloring the air—Lena’s residual scent? She had said she’d been using this room for a time. The corners of Bete’s mouth curled downward. 
“There’s no way I’m sleepin’ in a bed like that. Who the hell knows what’s been done in it…” 
He’d rather die than sleep in the same spot some other guy had gotten his canoe shellacked, so instead, he found himself a spot on the floor near the window and slumped down. The velvety carpet was a soft welcome to his body, and he let his eyes wander off to the side, where a view of the Pleasure Quarter greeted him from the open window. 
From far above, the grand temple of the Goddess of Beauty soared over the rest of the Night District, making for a none-too-paltry view if he had to say so himself. 


 


“This is the life…huh?” 
Being solicited by a girl, spending the night in the prime seat for looking out across this ruined city…He let his gaze stay there awhile, taking in the situation and finding the whole thing just a bit ironic, considering he’d just been chased out by his own familia (albeit temporarily). 
Finally, he turned away to get some sleep, resting his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. Sleep came quickly, too, no doubt because of the copious amounts of alcohol he’d earlier imbibed. Letting the cool night breeze caress his skin, he felt himself begin to drift off…until, clink. 
He heard the door open ever so quietly. 
“—Bete Logaaaaa.” A sickly sweet purr made his lupine ears twitch. 
It was Lena. And what’s more, she’d changed her clothes. 
Now, she donned a black negligee…which, while certainly covering more skin than her previous attire, was so see-through it might as well have been transparent, a veil covering what looked like nothing more than undergarments beneath. From the gentle curve of her body to the vivacious glow of her copper skin, every bit of her seemed to emanate an alluring, pheromonal redolence. 
“Why not forget all those bad things for a while, hmm? I can take you into a wonderful, enchanting dream.” Smiling softly, she made her way toward Bete on the floor, her slender toes quiet atop the carpet. When she knelt over him, he could feel her breath and its primal heat, and then the rest of her, descending toward him, looming just above his virile powerhouse of a body. 
Her Amazonian instincts were controlling her every move, and there was only one thing this girl desired: a child. 
Even from within her perfume, the man-killing scent of her musk was unmistakable. And as she came toward him, moonlight drenching her delicate shoulders and limbs seeking out his own— 
“Get away from me.” 
“Guh?!” 
—she was sent flying. 
A single leg had risen from the floor, stubbornly kicking her away and sending her tumbling across the length of the room. Bete flashed his pointed incisors to tell her he was far from amused. 
“Hey, what gives, huh? You’re really just gonna go right to sleep?! Not even violate me a little?!” 
“Who was it who said we had to be quiet or we’ll get caught, huh, you damn brat?!” 
Lena shot to her feet, only to immediately bring both hands to her mouth with a gasp. Her stunned silence didn’t last long, however; with an indignant puff of her cheeks, she was crawling back toward him once more. 
“Come on, hmm? Let’s have a little fun! If we try really hard, I’m sure we can whip us up a little bundle of joy. Make me pregnant, hmm?” 
“Shut the hell up, you whore.” 
“Why won’t you even touch me, hmm? Is it because I’m not endowed like Aisha and the others? Is it?! Or…You’re not impotent, are you?! No, wait—you like men?!” 
“I’m going to murder you!” 
Lena stealthily reached toward him, still whining and cooing, only to meet Bete’s foot once again. He wasn’t about to let her touch him, let alone sleep anywhere near him. Again and again, she went sailing through the air, until finally, when she crash-landed on the bed—“Whuaaagh!!”—she let herself collapse backward onto the mattress. 
“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! I got myself all ready so you wouldn’t be able to resist! So that Bete Loga wouldn’t be able to live without me!” 
“Because that’s not at all nefarious!” 
Lena was crying now, her tears soaking the bedsheets. 
Bete just stared at the ceiling with a spiteful sigh, glad the storm had passed. 
“Wh-why don’t you like me?” 
“You think it’s just you? I hate all you wimps! Sleeping with any of you’d just make all that weakness rub off on me.” 
“Hmm? But Bete Loga, is there even a woman stronger than you out there?” Lena asked, currently curled up among the sheets. 
“…” 
Bete went quiet. Rolling over, he closed his eyes. 
“…I hate weak women most of all,” he muttered in irritation. 
 
Goddammit. I should have known this would happen. 
From within the floating depths of his consciousness, a tangible sense of dread came to him. 
He knew this feeling. He was about to dream of his past— 
It had been half a werewolf’s lifetime ago. 
Bete Loga had been born into the world in the land to the north—to a tribe of wandering animal people with no ties to any city or country, let alone the Labyrinth City of Orario. Unlike typical nomads, they were a people focused solely on hunting, the Beastmen of the Plains, and Bete was the son of their chief. 
It was just him, his powerful father, his bighearted mother, and later, his sister. And if he left the large tent his family had been allocated, he had his peers, the smiling faces of his many werewolf brothers awaiting him. The entire tribe was his family. 
“It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, Bete, so keep those fangs polished.” 
His father, stronger than anyone else he knew, had drilled that into him time and time again. 
As a tribe without a god to worship, everyone had to be strong, even the women and children. They’d fight off the monsters that roamed the surface, crush rogue caravans along with their guards, and do it all without the blessings of a Status. More than anything else, their power as a race of people who awoke under the light of the moon came from their untamed skills and knowledge—the techniques and strategies they’d long cultivated as a tribe. They were the Beastmen of the Plains, capable of taking on even low-level familias, and though many envoys from their surrounding countries and familias solicited their aid, Bete’s father had always heeded the teachings of his ancestors and refused them. 
They lived as nature; their bodies turned to dust and, from that dust, new life emerged. 
And young Bete revered them all, from his tradition-honoring father to the staunch, brave warriors of his tribe. 
“Good morning, Bete!” 
There had been a girl, too—born on the same day, she’d been a friend of his growing up. Her long, softly golden hair was rare for a werewolf, and she was beautiful, standing out from among the others of her generation like a brilliantly glimmering jewel. Like clockwork, as Bete had grown, so had his feelings for the girl, and so had the scuffles with his male peers over her. 
“You want it? Take it!” That had been the simple rule hammered into him by the tribe, and Bete had heeded the call, training day in and day out until he was the strongest among the tribe’s children. Until, finally, he could claim her for his own. It was her warm sigh, fading into the wind, “…Even with you, I can’t be strong…” that had left the strongest, most genuine impression on him to this day. 
For you see, the uncommonly reserved girl had been weak. Frighteningly frail, almost. 
Which had forced Bete to train even harder, knowing he had to protect more than just himself. Going to his father, he’d asked to be treated as one of the tribe’s warriors, venturing out with the adults on their many hunting missions. It even got to the point where he could take on goblins, orcs, and other similar monsters completely on his own. 
That was how he’d spent his youth: roaming those green hills surrounded by majestic mountains, the gaze of his childhood friend watching over him, joined every once in a while by his precocious sister, and simply training with everything he had. 
Then, Bete’s twelfth birthday had arrived. 
And all of that had changed. 
“Father…Mother…Luna…” 
The moon had been positively golden that night. 
The night everyone in his tribe had been killed. 
It had been a massacre. 
A strange new monster had suddenly appeared on the plains, slaughtering everyone. 
Everyone except for Bete. 
Though he would only come to know this later, the beast had come from one of the world’s three great frontiers—the Valley of Dragons to the far, far north. 
The colossal, flightless dragon boasted scales that could ward off any attack. With one mighty roar, it had punctured the very eardrums of the plains people, and it had devoured even the tribe’s warriors in their awakened beast modes. His father and mother had been torn to shreds. His sister had been crushed to death. Bete had been more fortunate: After a swipe to the face from the beast’s claws, he’d been sent hurtling into a nearby outcropping of rocks, the impact knocking him out cold until the battle was over. 
When he’d crawled out later, dragging his battered body across the ground, nothing but rivers of blood and lumps of gnawed flesh remained; the black shadow of the creature was disappearing along the far horizon. 
It was the new Master of the Plains. It had devoured the weak and robbed the once strong of their privilege, turning them into nothing more than food. 
Bete had lost everything that day. 
In that one merciless attack. 
It was a tragedy the gods were all too used to: an everyday occurrence in that vast, sprawling world, not even warranting a glance of interest. 
Survival of the fittest. 
The values of the dog-eat-dog world that Bete’s father had long impressed upon him finally hit home. It was just how the world was. Divine providence. The real truth. The weak could have their happiness taken away from them in the blink of an eye. Bete’s tribe had finally had the tables turned, becoming nothing more than the same prey they themselves had hunted. It was simple, really. So simple, everything in his stomach came bubbling up right then and there. 
The strong could get away with anything. They could take anything. 
And the weak could do nothing against them. Nothing of theirs was safe. 
The weak couldn’t survive. 
His father had been weak. The warriors in his tribe had been weak. His mother; his sister, Luna; Bete himself; and yes, even she—currently scattered into hundreds of fleshy, bloody chunks across the ground—had been weak. 
“Renee…!” 
Bete had cried. 
His wound still carved deep into his face, he’d cried tears of salt and blood. 
He was all alone now. Sitting there beneath the light of the moon, he’d howled at the heavens. 
After that, Bete, the only surviving member of his tribe, had washed his hands of his homeland. Directly disobeying the teachings of the Beastmen of the Plains, he’d sought out places with people. He had no intentions of trying to revive his tribe—they’d been weak. Even banding together, weaklings were still weak. Natural selection would weed them out. So he’d tossed them aside, together with all the feelings he still had for them. 
What he craved was strength. Fangs that couldn’t be broken. He vowed to cast off his weak flesh so he could fight back against the strong, to take down the Master of the Plains. 
It was from a passing peddler that he learned of another of the world’s three great frontiers: the Dungeon. It rested on the westernmost tip of the continent, within a city known as the Labyrinth City. And it was in this city that the strongest of adventurers and their gods gathered. Thus, Bete’s journey for power began. 
As a lesson to himself and to his frailty, he had a reminder carved into his face, a symbol of his past self that he would never forget. And with that, his hunger grew—hunger to grow strong, to never have to lose anything anymore. The first time he saw it, the bolt of lightning the artist had tattooed across his face from his eye to his cheek, he’d laughed. It looked almost like the very same unbreakable fangs he so craved. 
His hunger for strength and his symbol of weakness had become one—the fang of a wolf. 
 
“…Shit.” 
Bete grimaced the moment he opened his eyes. 
Shaking off the lingering thoughts of his past and the phantom pain running up and down the length of his tattoo, he furrowed his brow. 
But then… 
“?Ah.” 
The girl who’d creeped over next to him froze, as though she believed the grimace had been directed at her. 
More importantly, though, she wasn’t wearing a thing. 
“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 
“Eh-he-he…he-he-he-he…Dropping by for a nightcap? Or I guess it would be a morning-cap in this case…” 
Bete didn’t even wait for Lena to finish, kicking her and her long, dangling hair away. 
She gave a startled “Guphwah!” as she was sent sailing toward the far corner of the room, then shot him a series of death glares as she righted herself. 
Outside the window, the light of dawn was just beginning to warm the sky. Its faint traces could be seen ever so gently wrapping themselves around the Pleasure Quarter from their position in their hideout along the city’s walls. For a moment, Bete let himself watch the transition, silently cursing the dream that had seized his attention so thoroughly he hadn’t even noticed Lena’s approach. 
Can’t go home yet, but that doesn’t mean I can just sit around on my ass all day. Guess I’ll head to the Dungeon, see if I can make myself a valis or two…Maybe check around for that thing Finn and the others are looking for. 
His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the soaring temple on the other side of the window—the former castle of the Goddess of Beauty. 
Finally, he turned around and looked back toward the still-groaning girl on the other side of the room. 
“Hey, brat.” 
“What is it nooooow?” she moaned back, tears in her eyes. 
“You ever seen some sorta red key? With a weird symbol thingy carved into it?” 
 
A cold wind whistled against the stone path underfoot. 
It was in a tunnel deep underground, in a labyrinth untouched by the sun up above. 
As a multitude of water spiders scuttled about, conducting a revolting symphony of pitter-patters with their legs, an angered shout cut through the air. 
“That goddamn shithead of a goddess!” 
The voice came from a human girl dressed in a fur-lined overcoat. It was Valletta Grede, one of the upper echelons of the Evils’ Remnants, and she was currently stalking about the mural-adorned hallway of relics deep within the maze of Knossos, her maddened screams bouncing off the walls. 
“After all we did for her, she goes and lets herself get trashed by Freya Familia!” 
“This was an unexpected move by Freya. If everything had gone according to plan, none of this would have happened,” the God of Death, Thanatos, responded in an attempt to placate the girl, a forced smile pulling at his lips. 
Valletta’s raging refused to cease, the rest of the familia’s high-ranking officials watching from all sides. 
“Oh, it would have, would it? A whole lot of good that does us now! And you know what’s even worse? We gave her one of our keys! And now it’s who-knows-where!” 
Ishtar had been one of the sponsors the Evils had enlisted to help expand Knossos. 
Thus, they’d provided her with a key to the labyrinth. 
One of the appropriately named “Orbs of Knossos.” 
They were magic items that could be used to open the many orichalcum doors littering Knossos’s halls. 
Only now, with Ishtar’s sudden defeat, they’d lost track of the one they’d entrusted to her. 
“Yes, yes, this is indeed a bit troubling, but we’re already searching the ruined Pleasure Quarter, are we not?” 
“Yeah, and we haven’t found squat! Do you even realize the shit we’d be in if Finn and his little goons got their hands on it first…?!” 
The man-made labyrinth Knossos had two main advantages: It was unbreakable, and it was inescapable. But as soon as the enemy possessed one of its keys, whatever edge they had would be reduced to nothing. Chewing viciously at her nails, Valletta positively radiated enmity as the face of her sworn rival, Finn, who’d just barely slipped past her fingers, flashed through her head. 
Currently, Valletta was the only major player left in the maze. Barca, and his Daedalian pedigree, was gone, as was the creature Levis. They’d taken off, leaving Valletta and the others to deal with everything in the aftermath of Loki Familia’s attack. The former would do what he could to fix the decimated labyrinth, and the latter likely planned to protect the remaining spirits. 
Damn ingrates! she seethed, her anger only rising. 
“Where’d that little Tammuz shit run off to, huh…?!” she growled as the face of Ishtar’s manservant popped into the back of her mind. The goddess’s most trusted right-hand man, he came with her time and time again on her visits to Knossos. Only, he’d gone missing the night of Freya Familia’s attack. 
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Valletta dear?” 
“…We’re gonna look for that key. Turn over everything in that shitty woman’s home if we have to. There’s no way I’m letting Loki Familia get the drop on us! Get out there and search, you good-for-nothings!” 
There was a resounding “Yes, ma’am!” from the rest of Thanatos Familia before the whole lot of them went racing toward the exit. 
Valletta shot a look of contempt at Thanatos. The way the god’s eyes were narrowed in what seemed to be amusement rubbed her entirely the wrong way. 
 



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