CHAPTER 11
Absolute Evil
A pair of thick sabatons stepped through the ruined street. One could almost hear the earth tremble as Zald walked over to the boaz man, lying flat on the ground.
He looked down his nose at Ottar. “Is that all?” he asked. “I expected more from you.”
His words sounded distant and muffled to Ottar’s ears, like they were coming through deep water.
Ottar couldn’t move. Struggle as he might on the border of consciousness and oblivion, his body refused to obey. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to scowl. All he could move were the tips of his fingers, which trembled slightly.
Zald looked down at him without compassion or mercy. Only disappointment. He raised his greatsword above his head to finish Ottar off.
“If you can no longer stand,” he said, “then this is the end.”
The black slab of metal came down like a guillotine, ready to cut off Ottar’s head.
“Tch!!”
Just then, a man leaped from the shadows. He was so quick that even Zald’s brow raised softly in surprise. Faster than the eye could follow, he cast aside his signature silver spear for maximum speed, then scooped up Ottar’s body and carried it away mere instants before the sword came down.
“Shit!”
But Allen did not escape unharmed. He paid the price for Ottar’s life. His left arm hung limply, dripping blood, but that didn’t stop him from running like the wind, fleeing the street, still roiling with anger over Ottar’s state and his own powerlessness.
When he was gone, Zald scanned the empty street. He didn’t give pursuit, despite how easy it would have been to catch up to Allen and skewer him.
“Running away, are we?” he said. “Very well. Wallow in your defeat, powerless child.”
His crimson cape fluttered in the wind.
“Krh…!!”
During the same moment that Allen was saving Ottar’s life on the other side of town, Asfi also had a part to play.
Her winged sandals were not yet complete. Rather than confer flight, they could only provide acceleration while in midair. Still, by scattering bombs, she put up a wall of explosions before snatching Riveria and Gareth and carrying them to safety.
But Alfia was unperturbed. “I care little,” she said without a single change in expression. “There is no escape, after all.”
As she watched Asfi disappear into the sky, she eventually lost interest and walked off in a different direction. To where it would all begin.
“For all will go as he demands.”
In Central Park, now home to wailing evacuees and wounded adventurers alike, a Loki Familia follower ran up to his captain.
“S-sir! We’re getting reports that our allies in the southwest have been wiped out!”
“Wiped out?!” spat Finn with surprise. “All of them?!”
“Y-yes, sir! Some managed to escape, but the enemy has completely crushed our front lines!”
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, a second messenger came over, out of breath.
“Loki! Captain! It’s Riveria and Gareth…they’ve been defeated!”
“What?!” yelped Loki. “Are they both okay?!”
“It seems that Perseus managed to rescue them, Lady Loki. But they are both badly wounded and have yet to wake up!”
The paling messenger’s fear spread not only to Loki but to the young familia members who were standing in earshot.
“No way,” whispered Raul, unable to believe his ears. “Riveria and Gareth…lost?”
The most powerful mage in Orario and a man who could weather any attack. To receive news of their defeat, so soon after hearing about Ottar’s, was enough to crush what little morale they had left. Their drive, their spirit, it all began to crumble, like dunes of sand.
But one man refused to let that happen—Finn.
“What do we know about the enemy?” he shouted. His voice caused the other members to jump, and they felt their fears dispelled. His voice, like a blast wave, lasted only a moment, but when it was over, all of his comrades forgot their despair.
“Sh-she’s a young witch with gray hair!” the messenger replied, standing to attention. “She uses ultra-short chants, and she seems to be immune to even the most powerful forms of magical and nonmagical attack!”
Finn was not ready to give up yet. Seeing his resolve, the younger members steadied their quaking boots and set about doing their part for the war effort, guiding evacuees and reinforcing the barricades.
Meanwhile, Finn turned his thoughts inward.
An ashen-haired witch, able to nullify magic. It must be Alfia! So now we have not just Zeus’s follower to contend with but Hera’s, too!
Careful not to let his own fears show, Finn put his mind into overdrive.
Even if their stats haven’t changed in eight years, they’re still Level 7! We could throw every first-tier adventurer in the city at them and it still might not be enough!!
Correlating and cross-referencing all the data he had access to, Finn could only conclude they were all in big trouble. Two of history’s greatest titans—an unassailable, indomitable pair—had returned to Orario…on the side of evil.
“With those two in the palm of their hand, they can dominate the war! …Valletta! They were your secret weapons all along!”
With their appearance, everything Finn had worked so hard to establish was on the verge of collapsing. The fall of those first-tier adventurers would no doubt have knock-on effects on other parts of the board, in terms of both allied setbacks and enemy gains.
Just then, another messenger arrived.
“Sir! Morale is plummeting as a result of Warlord’s defeat! The enemy is advancing in the south! There’s nobody to stop them!”
“C-Captain!” said Raul. “We have to send reinforcements! Riveria and Gareth are still out there!” The young boy had not even been in Orario for a full year yet, and he hadn’t found the courage to immediately set to work like the rest of his comrades.
“No,” replied Finn. “We must stay here in Central Park and protect Babel with our lives!”
As much as he worried for his two friends, Finn knew this to be the right decision.
“There’s no doubt what the enemy is after…”
Finn’s foresight bordered on divine. And so he severed all doubt and gave his command.
“Fall back! Abandon the districts south of our defensive line, and focus all remaining troops here, in the center of the city! Send a message north and tell Freya Familia to do the same! Quickly!”
““Y-yes, sir!””
Raul and the other messengers hurried off to carry out Finn’s order.
But Finn couldn’t stop there. He was the Braver, a symbol of courage for all adventurers. Even with his back to the wall, he had to push on.
He looked down at his right hand.
Even now, my thumb aches. Could this all still just be the beginning of something more?
Finn’s sixth sense was setting off alarm bells in his head.
“What’s coming?” He grimaced. “What’s out there?”
The sparks of war showed no signs of dying. Finn looked out across the vermilion cityscape and spoke to the empty skies.
“Someone’s behind all this…”
“…But who?”
Hermes stopped in the street and looked around at the destruction.
“Who wrote the tune we’re all dancing to?”
He was certain some god still lurked in the wings, awaiting their cue.
“You expect me to believe this is all the Evils’ lovingly crafted plan? Don’t make me laugh. It’s all going too well.”
There was no doubt in his words. Only revulsion, disgust, and dread. An appropriate reaction for the one who had to be responsible.
“The timing is just too perfect,” he said. “No mortal could have ordained this. It can only be the work of a god.”
“Indeed,” said Astrea, standing by his side. “And wherever they are, this god is mocking us. Waiting to draw us into ever-greater depths of despair.”
Her hand went to her breast as she pondered what was to come.
“Something more yet awaits us…horrendous nascent evil!”
The smoke clouds in the sky almost seemed to tremble, resonating with a demonic laughter.
“…!!”
Alize looked up.
“What is it?” shouted Lyra while fighting off increasing waves of Evils soldiers.
“…It’s Lady Astrea,” Alize replied. “She’s in trouble!”
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know, but something’s coming for her, I can sense it! We have to find her, now!”
Lyra wasn’t sure if those were the senses of an adventurer or some kind of trained animal. She just looked at Alize, dumbfounded.
“Wait, you want us to go find her?!” cried Neze, wiping the blood from her face between battles. “We can’t even get away from here!”
“Yeah!” came the voice of the Amazon, Iska. “We may have gotten all the civilians out, but the enemy is really comin’ down on us now! Ilta has her hands full as well!”
The girls of Astrea Familia were currently in the south of the city, where fighting was the fiercest. They fought on, in defiance of Finn’s order to abandon the southern front, because the road they were on led directly to Central Park. If they left now, that would only mean more enemy soldiers for the defenders of Loki Familia to deal with.
Nearby, the red-haired Amazon Ilta Faana bathed in the blood of her foes, leading a unit of Ganesha Familia adventurers. And although Alize couldn’t see them from here, Lyu and Kaguya were a block away, on South Main Street, holding the line alongside Shakti.
The two familias were barely holding back the waves of enemies. They had no one to spare.
“…No, it’s okay. Neze, Iska, go with her.”
“Lyra?!” exclaimed Neze, but the prum girl only looked over in the direction of Central Park.
“If our captain has a hunch, then we oughtta act on it. She’s just like that hero, Finn. And we can’t let anything happen to Lady Astrea.”
If a familia’s god was sent back to heaven, those of the familia would have their stats frozen and therefore be unable to fight. If that happened, the defensive line was as good as lost anyway.
So Lyra placed her stock in Alize’s uncanny hunch.
“We’ll work with Ganesha Familia to keep them off you,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Lyra! Thank you!”
“If I die ’cause of this, I’m gonna spit on you from heaven!”
Lyra forced a smile. Alize’s smile, on the other hand, was so bright, she didn’t seem to belong on this earth.
“No! No dying!” she said. “Don’t even get hurt, or you’ll be sorry! Captain’s orders! We’re all going home together, you hear?”
The girls all looked at her in shock. Lyra smirked, narrowing her eyes like she was staring directly into the sun.
“…Just get goin’ already, you big dummy.”
Then she plunged into battle once more. Alize nodded, then ran off.
“Lady Astrea’s come to the front lines!” she explained to her two escorts. “Talk to anyone you can and find out if they’ve seen her!”
“Got it!”
She ran, her heart sick with worry. As she did, the name of her beloved goddess formed on her lips.
“Lady Astrea…!”
Thick clouds of smoke obscured the sky, extinguishing the starlight that illuminated and guided the city’s inhabitants, and leaving them lost.
Hedin was no exception.
“.….…. ”
From his vantage point atop the church belfry, he cast his eyes northwest, surveying the battle that consumed the streets of district seven.
“Where are you going, Hegni, all full of holes?”
“Come play with us! If you’re going to die anyway, do it where we can see you!”
“Gh…hah…?!”
Down on the ground, the Dis sisters had taken Hegni by surprise, and now the dark elf was bleeding profusely. Try as he might, he’d lost too much blood to shake them off, and the younger sister, Vena, was keeping his fellow Einherjar at bay with her magic sword. Meanwhile, the elder, Dina, aimed to put him out of his misery with the twin stiletto daggers that had inflicted Hegni’s mortal wounds.
This combination of short-range blade mastery with long-range magic was what made the Dis sisters so fearsome and earned them their spot as leaders of Alecto Familia.
However, Hegni wasn’t the one in real danger.
“Gaaaaagh?!”
“Grer?!”
No, that was the Gulliver Brothers, surrounded as they were by a total of twelve Level 5s.
“Uoooooogh!”
“K-kiiiill…Kiiiiill!!”
The four prum were at the mercy of these so-called adventurers, summoned and commanded by the remnant of Apate Familia, Basram.
Peering through the flames of war, Hedin realized their true nature.
“Those shackled outlaws…They’re Osiris Familia!” he said.
Each of them wore a mask-like restraint that obscured their mouths, but there could be no mistake. In preparation for hostilities with the Evils, Hedin and Alfrik had visited the Guild library, poring over chronicles of old battles. It was there they had come across the likenesses of Osiris Familia, recorded twelve years ago when they fought the Zeus and Hera Familias and lost.
The familia had been home to several Level 6s and even one Level 7: the captain, Melty Zara. However, they had kept them secret in advance of their assault on Zeus Familia.
“Unfortunately, I can’t introduce you to their captain,” jeered Basram. “All their first-tier adventurers either died or broke contact. But their second-tier people were all just dying for a shot at revenge!”
The Apate Familia priest smiled as his army tangled with the four Gulliver brothers. It was clear whose side had the upper hand.
“After Orario threw them out, they came to us, and we were only too eager to convert them,” he explained. “They trained, waiting, dreaming of the day they could exact retribution on Zeus and Hera…but of course, that day never came.”
Their shot at revenge died the day Orario’s most powerful gods failed in their battle against the Black Dragon. After that, the revenants who used to be members of Osiris Familia had no reason to stay with Apate Familia. But Basram couldn’t let such powerful warriors go to waste.
If reason could not make them stay, then why let them reason at all? So, following the teachings of his goddess, Basram turned them into mindless beasts.
“A few drugs here, a handful of curses there, and we created ourselves an army. Then they were ready for the next test: spirit infusion.”
Basram chuckled and gestured to his warriors. Where their shackles met the back of their neck, there was a dagger stuck into each of them.
“Spirit infusion?” questioned Alfrik, his helmet battered and blood dripping from his brow. “No more riddles; what do you mean?”
“Surely, you’ve heard the stories?” Basram replied. “Long ago, before the gods descended to this world, heroes would obtain the blessings of spirits to ensure victory in their trials. We were trying to reproduce that phenomenon.”
Those daggers protruding from their necks were all that remained of the spirits that Basram and his cohort had captured. Apate Familia had used them on the former members of Osiris Familia, turning them into powerful “spirit warriors” against their will. This was undoubtably an act of blasphemy. By restraining the rebellious test subjects and ignoring the spirits’ wails, Basram had succeeded in creating fighters of unholy strength.
“I am still far from re-creating the heroes of old,” said Basram, “but these subjects have displayed incredible abilities, such as the power to heal their own wounds. It’s just a shame I had no Great Spirits on hand, and so I had to make do with lesser offerings. Still, even without them…well, see for yourself.”
“Grh?!”
“Away from the prying eyes of the Guild, I’ve been training them in the Dungeon, and they recently reached Level Five. Just in time for the Great Conflict to start. It wasn’t easy, you know?” he added with a smile.
Indeed, it wasn’t. Basram had needed to shepherd a small army of mindless warriors through the Dungeon. Failed infusions and losses to monsters meant that an original supply of forty-two spirits and thirty-four warriors resulted in a harvest of only twelve spirit warriors. It was an experiment sorely lacking in respect for the dignity of life and death.
This all stemmed from the will of Basram’s goddess, Apate. Her domain was injustice. A living mockery of all that Orario’s protectors stood for.
His dull red eyes opened wide. He thumped his staff against the ground as a manic grin crossed his face.
“Yes, we are Apate’s disciples!” he cried. “Exactors of her will! We are the ones who will reshape this world according to the whims of chaos!”
The tip of his staff glowed with an ominous light, and all the spirit warriors groaned in response to it. Fireballs and bursts of lightning appeared in their hands without requiring a chant, burning their own skin as they used them to attack Alfrik and his brothers.
The four prums’ teamwork wasn’t enough. Their foes’ unrestrained violence dashed them against the walls and into piles of rubble.
“Twelve first-tier adventurers…?!” gasped Hedin, watching as the Gulliver Brothers were tossed about. He felt the unseemly sensation of his heart racing in his chest.
Of course, including the Dis sisters, there were fourteen in all. Fourteen Level 5s, against two in Hedin and Hegni. The Gulliver brothers were only Level 4, and nobody else in Freya Familia was even close.
The Einherjar were mighty heroes with no fear of death, but even they were no match for the evils of Apate Familia.
“Now, my loyal spirit warriors! You who have received the teachings of Apate! Free your souls!”
There was no more time for Hedin to be indecisive.
“Struggle for eternity, indestructible soldiers of lightning!”
He leaped from the belfry, leaving the startled Olba behind. From high up in the air, he secured a line of sight to the battlefield.
“Caurus Hildr!”
A magic circle surrounded him, and he unleashed a barrage of lightning. Basram, as well as the Dis sisters, instantly reacted to the onslaught. Dina disengaged with Hegni and leaped back, while Vena stopped attacking. Basram was already at a safe distance, but his twelve spirit soldiers weren’t. However, they used their beast-like agility to dodge the lightning.
Hedin kept up his assault, even as gravity claimed him and brought him on a downward arc.
“Van! Noga!” he shouted down, the sound almost drowned out by his own magical blasts.
“Get Hegni and the others out of there!!”
““Y-yes, sir!”” replied the members of Freya Familia before jumping to action. Hedin kept the enemy busy while they hurried over to the familia’s strongest warriors and helped them to withdraw.
Hedin watched it all from the corner of his eye, then fell more than 100 meders, landing right in the middle of the crossroads and immediately unleashing another spell.
“Strike forever, indestructible lord of lightning! Valiant Hildr!!”
While Caurus Hildr was a barrage of smaller blasts, this spell bundled it all into one massive lightning cannon that filled the entire street. Faced with an attack of this scale, the Dis sisters and Basram’s spirit warriors had no choice but to withdraw. It didn’t need saying what became of those Evils soldiers who were too slow to escape.
“Tch!”
Hedin had successfully forced the enemy back, but he didn’t seem too pleased about it. That was because in turn, the enemy had forced him to leave his post. Until he returned to the cathedral, the chain of command would be broken, and the Evils would have the perfect opportunity to stage an attack on the evacuation shelters.
Of course, Hedin had decided to enter the fray with all of this in mind, abandoning his allies to chaos and exposing his charges to danger. This was not out of misplaced priorities, but the understanding that Hegni and the Gullivers were his most potent game pieces. If Hedin was ever to make gains in this war, he needed them alive.
The fact he could make this decision so quickly, despite his duty to those in his care, was not a sign of a poor commander; it was a sign of an excellent one. But the two devious elves didn’t see it that way.
“You abandoned your people to save Hegni!”
“So mean! But that’s why I love you!!”
The Dis sisters grinned and jeered as the crossroads still sparked in the aftermath of Hedin’s spell. He didn’t waste breath telling them to shut up. As coolheaded as ever, he first made sure that Hegni and the others had made a clean getaway, then turned tail and fled. The faster he could get back to the cathedral, the safer everyone would be.
Or so he had hoped. But the Dis sisters had other ideas.
“You can’t go, Hedin.”
“You made your choice.”
They shared a wide grin, their eyes as thin as knife blades.
““Now you have to face the consequences,”” they both declared.
Then Hedin felt an enormous wave of magical energy emanating from the dark elf, Vena. Time slowed to a crawl, and four vast magic circles appeared directly above the cathedral and the other churches—where the survivors Hedin had momentarily abandoned were huddled.
“Open, the fifth garden! Resound, the ninth song!”
With that, Vena’s chant was complete. It was not an ultra-short cast, or any kind of special fast-chant ability. She had set up the spell ahead of time. Ever since Hegni ran into her, she had been holding it, ready to activate at a moment’s notice. That was why she had only been using a magic sword in the fight so far.
Dina stood by her, her fingers intertwined with her sister’s, channeling her energy into her as Vena spoke the name of her spell.
“Dialv Dis!”
All at once, the magic circles unleashed four columns of hellfire upon the churches below. Hedin reflexively held out his arm and chanted, “Valiant Hildr!”
The roaring thunder collided with the falling fire. The two forces opposed each other for a moment, shedding sparks, before canceling each other out entirely. The cathedral where Olba and the others were stationed was safe.
But he could only save one. The other churches were not so lucky. Each was engulfed in a cascading torrent of flame.
Hedin looked on, aghast, as the churches were bathed in fire. He heard the screams of those trapped within. The innocent civilians who had looked to him to keep them safe—their voices rang in his ears as they burned to death.
Hedin stood, frozen, in the middle of the street, staring at the destruction as the air grew hot with sparks and wisps of flame. It was then that he heard the voices of the Dis sisters from behind.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!! Isn’t it beautiful, Hedin? So beautiful!”
“Listen to that! The screams of the people you chose to die!”
The solitary ruler stood as their maddening, loving giggles continued behind his back.
“You know what I heard?” said Vena. “I heard you used to be a king! And Hegni, too!”
“Oh, how scary, sister! Hedin’s a mean old king who lets his subjects burn!”
Hedin knew full well what he had done. He had known the moment he made his decision that there were only ever two options. Either he left Hegni and the Gulliver brothers to die, or let the people in his care be slaughtered. Therefore, it wasn’t the actions of these vile, despicable, heartless pig sisters responsible for their deaths; it was his own.
Hedin had done everything in his power to ensure this did not come to pass. He had acted swiftly, with zero hesitation, but it was all for naught. These laughing sirens had made sure of that.
“Did you like our present, Hedin? We sure did!”
“Aww, I’ve never seen you look so alone! I just want to cheer you up with a big hug!”
““But we’re afraid there’s no time for that!””
The two girls embraced each other with glee, then sprang into the air.
“Our dark god told us we can’t end it yet! We’ll finish this some other time!”
“But don’t worry, we’ll kill you next time! Both of you, look forward to it!”
Then the two sirens disappeared, leaving only their wicked, innocent laughter.
There was no need to be greedy. The Evils had dealt a grave blow to Freya Familia, and now they left district seven before facing the dragon’s wrath.
Hegni lay on the ground nearby as the healers saw to his wounds. His fists shaking with anger, he hid his eyes with one arm, but the tears flowed down his cheeks regardless.
Meanwhile, Hedin raised a trembling hand to his glasses. He tried to take them off, but then the anger subsumed him, and he broke them in his fist.
“…………………………………………………I’ll kill you,” he said.
It was only through his iron will that Hedin didn’t scream with anguish. Instead, he channeled his hate into a vengeful vow.
“Both of you…shall die by my hand.”
The flames of the burning chapels seared a smoldering madness into his mind.
And on that day, Freya Familia suffered a second loss equal to Warlord’s defeat.
The stars were gone now, and the adventurers were lost. Only a red sky watched over them, lighting a passage into hell.
The very first sign of danger was the warning from Hermes’s lips.
“…Astrea, hold.”
His eyes pierced the gloomy corners of the backstreet, displaced from all the fighting. And then, it came. From out of the darkness, the sound of footsteps.
Astrea gasped and strained her eyes.
“Something’s coming,” said Hermes. And then, the darkness writhed. That ineffable, endless shade that gathered in the cracks of the city and even the fire that scorched and tortured its inhabitants could not dispel.
Twisting, changing, mutating. Emitting a sound like straining rope, or scornful laughter, the darkness stared back. Astrea and Hermes caught a glimpse of a mad glint, and something came, like a dagger in the night, drawing closer and closer until…
“Lady Astrea!”
“Eep! …A-Alize?”
A voice behind her made her jump, and she turned to see her flame-haired familia captain emerge from the burning city.
At the same time, the footsteps halted.
“I’m so glad you’re safe!” said Alize. “I just felt so cold…I knew I had to find you!”
Then Neze and Iska caught up to her, out of breath. The three of them had raced through the battlefield, cutting down all who stood in their path, and the feat had taken its toll. Their armor and battle clothes were ragged and torn.
Astrea looked at them, shocked…and then, she heard a noise. Astrea, Hermes, Alize, Neze, and Iska all turned and stared into the darkness…from where issued an ominous, slow clapping.
“Always looking after others, and never yourself. That’s why you took so long to find.”
The darkness adopted a god’s voice and spoke.
“I wanted to bury you first, you know. Extinguish justice from this world and leave its inhabitants to chaos.”
Despite his words, the voice sounded pleased, almost gleeful.
“Congratulations, Astrea. You’re still alive. You have you and yours to thank for that.”
The clapping resumed. The startled gods and their followers found themselves showered with unexpected, yet unbridled praise.
“Now, let us see what kind of future your persistence has bought.”
The darkness flickered. Sparks of war flew overhead, dispelling the veil of shadow.
“You chose justice. Now witness its rewards.”
A man’s silhouette separated itself from the gloom. His eyes shone like deep, dark pits into hell itself.
“It’s you…!” Astrea gasped.
Hermes couldn’t believe it. “It can’t be…”
It was the dark god who had masterminded this whole affair. As if appearing only to see their reactions, he gave a twisted smile and vanished into the shadows.
“W-was that…”
“…a god?!”
Though Neze and Astrea had not been able to see the man’s face, they felt his awesome presence nonetheless. Astrea was still frozen with shock.
“…Hermes!” she said at last. “We must follow him at once! I must be sure of what I saw!”
“Astrea, no!”
Hermes grabbed her arm, preventing the goddess from pursuing the nightmarish villain. The next moment, the burning buildings let loose an avalanche of fiery rubble, blocking the road.
“Leave him for now!” Hermes said. “We have to get out of here, quickly!”
His suspicions regarding the enemy leader’s true identity led him to conclude an unimaginable danger was imminent.
“Now!!” he roared. But it was too late.
The entire city shook.
“…Huh?”
A bright light enveloped everything.
The sky cried out as if in pain. The earth roiled as if alive. As above, so below.
“What’s that…?” whispered Alize, looking over the buildings, to the east, where a pillar of light penetrated the clouds.
The light was bright enough to momentarily blind all who saw it. The noise was loud enough to deafen all who heard it. A divine scream.
All over the city, time seemed to come to a halt. Adventurers, Evils, and gods alike all turned to face the pillar, and froze.
True evil was beginning. It laughed, a merciless, pitiless, unjust laugh.
“One.”
The ground jolted beneath their feet. They could do nothing but stare at the pillar of divine light, in wonder and fear.
“No way…”
In Central Park, Loki’s mind stopped working as she stared at the heavenly pillar. Beside her, Raul stood silent, quivering with dread like the other civilians in the area.
“Th-that’s…” he began.
“…the Pillar of Light,” finished Finn, his thumb wailing as its whispered prophecy came to pass. “The sign of a god returning to heaven!!”
No one said a word. Only the laughter of an evil god filled the silence.
“Two.”
A second count; a second pillar. A second rumbling of the earth.
“What was that?! Another one?!”
“Impossible…!!”
In the north of the city, Kaguya and Shakti shivered with fear as they saw it.
“Rgh…?!”
Lyu stood speechless, watching the intense rays of light flow upward into the sky.
“Three.”
The victims kept coming. Over to the west, another pillar burst forth and pierced the clouds.
“No…”
“…You ain’t tellin’ me that…”
Asfi and Lyra—the former exhausted from carrying Riveria and Gareth back to Central Park, the latter weary from battle—stood chained in fear. Both of these sharp-witted girls had already guessed what was about to happen next, and their faces went pale.
“Four.”
Chaos turned to panic as adventurers across the city realized what was happening…and what it meant.
“Gods are bein’ defeated?”
“But without our blessings…Oh gods, no!”
“…Somebody, heeeeeelp!!”
They paled. They screamed. They pleaded for their lives. But the forces of evil cut them down without mercy. They were slashed, stabbed, and torn apart. Orario’s brave protectors simply joined the many corpses already littering the streets. Their blood painted the walls. Their flesh roasted in the fires. And the departed gods were quickly followed by the souls of their children.
The disciples of evil grew drunk on the sight. With bloodshot eyes and slavering mouths, they ravaged the powerless adventurers like rabid wolves. The peals of their laughter filled the streets as they gorged themselves on blood.
“Five.”
More divine pillars appeared. The black knives of evil gods feasted on their helpless victims one after the other.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Haaah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!”
Valletta laughed out loud as she watched the columns of light filling the sky. It was a divine exodus unlike any before.
“The adventurers are droppin’ like flies!” she chuckled.
“Gyaaaaaaagh?!”
And as she chuckled, she killed. Slaughtered the powerless guardians of Orario—maggots who had only ever tried to get in her way.
With each swing of her sword, heads rolled, limbs flew, and voices cried out in despair.
It was exquisite. This was all she had ever wanted.
It was a massacre. A massacre that Arachnia had been waiting her whole life to unleash.
“This is amazin’! O my god, you’re the absolute worst!”
Valletta’s heart was full of praise for her dark lord, who had orchestrated all this. Savoring the thrill, she shouted into the heavens.
“Now it’s time for the real show to start, Orario!!”
“Six.”
Order was falling apart, and through the cracks came chaos, worming its way into reality. The people lost all hope, and many were certain they were witnessing the end of the world.
“Lord Belenus of Belenus Familia has been sent back to heaven!”
“Zelus Familia have been completely wiped out!”
At Guild HQ, the receptionists screamed their reports as more waves of information came rushing in. It was the only way to stay sane given their shocking contents.
Royman stood at the center of it all, as if frozen in time.
“Sent back…? Wiped out…? So without the gods’ blessings, the Evils are targeting the weakened adventurers…”
His perceptive mind quickly pieced together the consequences of what he was hearing. But knowing the buildup didn’t make the climax any more avoidable. He was a spectator to tragedy, forced to sit in his seat and watch until the bitter end.
The gates of hell had already closed behind him, and no matter how much he wailed, they would never reopen.
Suddenly, one of the receptionists cried out in despair. “It’s a massacre!” she yelled. “A massacre! Make it stop!”
She began to hyperventilate, just as another bright light appeared in the distance, visible through the window.
Somebody fell to their knees, scattering documents all over the floor. A tremor rocked the building, and a thundering roar blocked out all other sound.
All that lingered in the back of their minds was an evil laughter.
“…It can’t be.”
Royman let out a groan of despair.
“It can’t beeeeee!!”
“Seven.”
Despair spread throughout the city, as the unstoppable march of evil racked up sin after sin.
“Gh…hah…?!”
Vito’s cruel blade stole the life of another brave adventurer, whose body crumpled to the ground.
“Destruction! Chaos! Slaughter! Oh, it’s all so good!”
The wicked man trembled in mad delight. His blade plunged all his victims into a sea of blood, regardless of whether they resisted, or even had the means to resist.
“What a bright and colorful feast! It’s like I’m a child again!”
His eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy store, though his cheeks were stained with gore. With a fixed smile, he slowly approached a cowering adventurer, whose god had been returned to heaven and now lacked the power to fight back.
“I surrender!” he cried, his weapon slipping from his trembling hands. “Please don’t kill me!!”
But Vito ignored the man’s pleas. His only response came from the knife in his hands. The adventurer’s severed head hit the ground with a thud before rolling into the flames and catching fire, while a fountain of blood gushed from the lifeless body’s neck stump.
Vito’s heart trembled. He could scarcely imagine a more beautiful sight than the one that lay before him.
“We’re just getting started!” he cried. “After all, there are no heroes here! Nobody has the power to stop us!”
He spread his arms wide, looked up into the darkness, and revealed his truth to all of Orario.
“Your great heroes are already ours to command!”
Up on the roof of a partially ruined temple, those selfsame heroes looked down at the burning city without emotion.
“Sublime, is it not?” noted Zald.
“Yes,” replied Alfia. “The sight is, at least.”
Her ashen hair fluttered in the wind.
“But if I close my eyes…I can still hear their noise.”
Another pillar appeared, accompanied by another blinding light.
“Eight.”
It was the end of days. A time when evil finally got its revenge on all those who pursued justice.
“Hee-hee. Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!”
Olivas laughed alongside his soldiers. He knew the fulfillment of his dark god’s wish was soon at hand, and he practically drooled with anticipation.
“It begins! The fall of Orario! Khah-hah-hah! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!”
Clashing weapons. The wretched screams of justice. The song of life was fading. Dark clouds filled the skies, blotting out the stars. Order gave way to chaos, and a nascent evil gave its first newborn cry.
“Nine.”
Nine pillars of light. Nine gods returned to the heavens. Never before had an exodus like this ever been seen. But while the city reeled, the servants of evil breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“Now, it is ready,” said he.
There was nobody left to see the strings with which he tugged at the city’s fate. He gave a sweep of his arm, like a conductor ending a musical performance.
“We’ve collected all the sacrifices. Now, let’s go.”
At last, the tremors stopped, and the dazzling pillars faded into twinkling motes of light. As silence fell once more over the city, Astrea, Hermes, and Alize all stood perfectly still, unable to mutter a word. In their place, the animal girl fell to her knees.
“…It’s over,” she said.
“Neze…”
“It’s all over. Orario’s finished.”
Alize could only call the girl’s name, but it did nothing to abate the despair creeping onto the girl’s face. Such was the calamity they had all witnessed.
It was Astrea who spoke next.
“Nine gods…all returned to heaven at once…” she whispered.
“So the attacks so far…they were meant to ascertain where the gods would hide in an emergency,” reasoned Hermes, displaying his divine wisdom. The factory raids, the soup kitchen massacre…they were all just stepping-stones in the buildup to the Great Conflict. “We thought they were random, but all this time, we were revealing to our enemy precisely where to strike!”
It was the only explanation that accounted for as many as nine slain gods. The Evils’ gods must have spread out through the city, preparing to carry out their planned assassinations. They were ruthless. Meticulous. All in pursuit of the tragedy their leader had written.
“There’s only one god who could have done this…!” said Astrea.
But just then, a voice rumbled in the moonless, starless sky.
“Hark, Orario.”
It was the voice of that evil god.
“Hark, Ouranos. I am the darkness which gives this age its name, and I have come to extinguish mortal hope.”
Astrea and Hermes stood in stunned silence as his voice echoed down every street and back alley.
Even Ouranos, on his throne beneath the earth, heard the evil god’s proclamation. His sky-blue eyes peered deep into the oculus granted to him by his assistant mage.
“The time for covenants is over. I will tear man and god apart and bring an end to the Age of Gods.”
The contemptuous voice carried its master’s dark will to every corner of the city. His words settled in like a thick, dark fog, choking the life out of all who heard it: the breathless gods of order, Orario’s beaten protectors, and the helpless, huddling townsfolk, who no longer had anyone left to pray to.
“I will bring us all back to true darkness—a swirling maelstrom of chaos even the gods cannot fully comprehend.”
All across Orario, the sounds of fighting stopped, leaving only roaring flames, as even the emissaries of evil stopped to hear the words of their dark master, their eyes glittering with delight.
“You may despise me for this. You may think me a brute. Go ahead. Weep, howl, then accept my calamity. For I am evil incarnate, and what greater joy is there for evil than to be hated and reviled?”
There was a clatter as the wooden sword fell from the elf girl’s hands. The voice scratching in her mind, issuing scornful laughter—it was a voice she knew well. Her pulse raced, her heart pounding impossibly loud in her chest.
“My name is Erebus—”
In the northwest of the city, atop a storied temple, the voice’s bearer cast off the shadows and stepped out for all to see. His two conquerors stood faithfully by his side.
“—primordial darkness, and god of the underworld!”
There was a roar from the city, as the dark host cried out in support of their lord and master.
The people of Orario, meanwhile, were afraid. They were afraid of the dark god’s majesty, equaled only by the most powerful divine beings in the city.
“E-Eren? …E-Erebus? What?”
Lyu muttered toward her feet. Her eyes rapidly focused and unfocused. His eyes, the color of the first twilight. His hair, like darkness itself, streaked with ashen gray. Something about the way he carried himself was different, but Lyu was sure it was the same god she knew. The selfsame god who had appeared before her so many times in the recent past, asking her mocking questions about justice.
But that wasn’t the end of Erebus’s declaration.
“Orario’s protectors have fallen! Lain low by a power far greater than their own!”
Zald’s black sword glinted in the night. He stood at the god’s right hand, basking in the bloodred glow of the fires below.
“Orario’s gods have departed! Reduced to a bothersome noise!”
Alfia’s ashen hair fluttered. She stood at the god’s left hand, wreathed in frozen silence.
“Listen well, all you who fight chaos in the name of good! For we are those who fight order in the name of evil!”
There was no missing the cynicism in the dark god’s words. He was denouncing everything Orario stood for—everything that good and righteousness had ever built—using the very same words that Lyu had bounced around in her head ever since she first heard them.
“Listen well, for I have something you all need very much to hear.”
His lips curled into a twisted grin as he silently raised a single arm before him.
“Weakness, thy name is justice.”
Those were his heartfelt words, aimed at the foolish love on which Orario was founded.
Kaguya, Shakti, Lyra, Asfi, Allen, Raul, Alize, Neze, and all the other girls frowned, their faces cloaked in rage and fear.
Astrea, Hermes, Loki, Freya, Ganesha, Hephaistos, and the prum hailed as the people’s hero, all scowled at the dark god.
And finally, Lyu. Unable to withstand the despair bearing down on her any longer, she fell to her knees.
“Perish, Orario. For we are absolute evil!!”
The proclamation rang throughout the streets. The laughing voice of order’s demise.
On that day, the city of heroes fell.
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