CHAPTER 2
The Conqueror’s Return
A ruined plaza near the city’s south gate had been strangely untouched by much of the fighting. The cries of combat were distant here, and even the violent crash of steel sounded more like the clanging of a smith’s hammer accompanied by the roar of the forge. The battle standard of some familia lay discarded on the ground, sticking out of the rubble and fluttering in the bone-dry wind.
“………”
Beneath smoky skies, the ruins stood like tombstones marking the graves of the city’s dreams. Zald stood alone, taking it all in.
“What are you doing, Master Zald?”
From seemingly out of nowhere, a man with bloodred hair emerged. It was Vito, lieutenant of the Evils known as Faceless. Despite his abrupt appearance, however, Zald showed no surprise, as if he had known the man was there all along.
“Gazing upon the fruits of my efforts,” he answered. “Burning them into my mind. As humans, we forget things. Not just what we had for lunch, but even the streets we grew up in. This is something I don’t want to forget.”
“And what, pray tell, is the value in remembering a doomed city? I never took you for a man of sentiment, child of Zeus.”
Zald and Alfia were the remnants of Zeus’s and Hera’s familias. When people said the word conquerors, everyone knew that it referred to them alone; symbols of the two forces that ruled Orario unchallenged for a thousand years.
Thus, this imprudent remark was tantamount to blasphemy, but Vito seemed not to realize or care. He only snickered as though something were highly amusing.
Zald did not even turn to answer the man, the sole follower of the dark god Erebus.
“Value is not something that is found, but created,” he said. “What you refer to as sentiment, I simply call…my payment.”
The conqueror’s statement sounded like a simple matter of fact. But no one could possibly understand what was going on in his mind as he gazed upon the ruins of his old home. Certainly not Alfia, another conqueror, or the gods above, either.
“Payment, you say? Payment for what, I wonder?”
“You are much like Freya’s mewling brat. You ask too many questions. I’m starting to see why Alfia detests this world so.”
Vito’s impertinent and persistent queries caused Zald to furrow his brow. For the first time, Zald glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with the man.
“You are…Faceless, if I am not mistaken,” he said. “Are you sure you should be here?”
“Oh, but it matters very little where I stand, sire. Our victory ultimately hinges upon you.”
There was not a sliver of doubt in Vito’s words. He spoke like a philosopher describing the essential nature of reality.
“A few isolated losses here and there hardly make a difference in the grand scheme of things,” he went on. “Why should it matter if I’m a little late to the party?”
“Then why have you come?”
“Because I have a question, sire. A question I’ve been meaning to ask a hero like yourself for a long, long time.”
At this point, there was a slight but noticeable change in Vito’s tone.
“Because, make no mistake, you are a hero! You see, I’ve always found heroes fascinating! They aren’t content to live in an imperfect world! They rise up against absurdity! They fight against the irrational! How noble they are! How sublime! They are the ones worthy of my praise, not the gods!”
Vito’s disdain for divinity was clear. He opened his eye a crack and spread his arms wide.
It was as though he had come face-to-face with a character from a fairy tale. His voice was as sweet as melted sugar, but his gaze was like that of a child who knew only betrayal.
“What I want to ask you, sire, is this: How could such a noble man as yourself turn your blade to evil?”
Zald stood unmoving, looking over his shoulder, without the slightest change to his expression.
“I see,” he muttered. “You are a broken man; that much is clear. You fail to even realize your own contradictions.”
At this, Vito gave a puzzled look, but Zald went on.
“What you feel for heroes is not respect—it is scorn. Forgive me, but I must ask: Is this because you are blind to color?”
“Hrk!”
Zald’s question gripped Vito’s heart like a vise. His eyes flew open with shock. But Zald didn’t stop there.
“No…that’s not all, is it? Your hearing, your smell, your taste; none of them work as they should. The only sense of yours that functions properly…is touch.”
“H-how did you…?”
“Because I have eaten a great deal,” came Zald’s answer, “and my senses have grown sharp. Your defects are clear to me from sight and smell alone.”
This bold claim was not a simple lie or misdirection. It was how Zald had earned his title—Glutton—and another part of his incalculable might.
“Imagine a slab of beef placed before you,” he explained. “Before it even passes your lips, you can imagine how it must taste. The smell, the crispness of the edges, the texture as your teeth bite down…those are all harbingers of the flavor yet to come. In the same way, your defect was obvious the moment I set eyes on you.”
Vito was aghast. All his former frivolity was stripped away, replaced by a mask of anxiety and sweat.
Zald, meanwhile, spoke without pity or ridicule, but the ease with which he cut to Vito’s core caused him to twitch.
“It is that defect that births your hatred,” he went on. “And it is your obstinacy that sustains it. Have you tired of playing at humanity already?”
“Grh…! You’re a monster…!!”
But Zald didn’t rise to Vito’s insult. He simply chuckled at the ineffectual retaliation of a powerless man.
“Didn’t you know?” he said. “Monsters and heroes are two sides of the same coin. It should come as no surprise whatsoever that I stand alongside people like you.”
Zald was unperturbed. He had seen it all, heard it all, and eaten it all. The gulf of power between him and his fellow man was so wide, there was almost no reason to consider him the same species.
“But to answer your previous question,” he said. “I fell to evil…because it was necessary.”
At this point, the conversation between the two of them came to an end. All that punctuated the space between them was the soft moan of the wind.
Vito was still so shocked he couldn’t move a muscle. Zald, meanwhile, simply turned his gaze forward once more. It was then that a cry came from the southwest, and an Evils soldier came running toward them.
“Lord Zald!” the messenger cried. “I bring orders from Lady Valletta! She requests you advance on Central Park to eliminate the adventurers lying in wait at Babel!”
“It is time… Very well. I have said my farewells to this city.”
With that, Zald placed his helmet atop his head. His plate armor, so heavy that its weight would crush an ordinary adventurer, creaked as he walked. He turned and set his gaze on the alabaster tower at the city’s center.
“All that remains is to annihilate Orario’s disappointments…with my own two hands.”
With a sword as large as a dragon’s jawbone strapped to his back, the man clad in all black set off. The cries echoing in the distance were like a hymn of praise in his name, or perhaps a song of lament for the despair he would soon bring. With his crimson cloak fluttering behind him, Zald left.
Vito watched him go, dumbstruck, before maniacal laughter began working its way out of him.
“Heh…ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! He can’t be stopped… Not by us…and certainly not by the adventurers!”
He clenched his fists tightly in a vain attempt to stop them from trembling and spoke once more of the true nature of reality.
“Today marks the end…of Orario.”
Finn’s thumb trembled, as if it was screaming, and the city shook. Not a second later, Raul came running over from the signaling device bearing a new message.
“I-it’s Zald!” he cried. “He’s been spotted engaging our troops!”
“Tell me where!”
“On South Main Street, Captain! He’s heading north!”
Before the building they were standing on could even stop shaking, another blast—the shock wave of the conqueror’s attack—rocked the city.
“…Weak.”
“Gwaaaaaagh?!”
Each swing of Zald’s blade was like cannon fire. Nothing could halt its devastating arc. South Main Street had become the venue for a concert of screams.
Scouts trembled in their boots at his mere presence. Adventurers flung themselves at him, hoping to inflict even a single scratch—but he flattened everything in his path. Weapons and armor shattered like glass at his touch, and each footstep turned the cobblestone beneath his feet to dust.
Nothing could stand in his way. The former hero continued his advance toward Central Park unimpeded.
“Glutton sighted on South Main Street?!”
Nearby, in the adjacent pleasure district at the besieged Casino, Falgar spoke in hurried tones with another Hermes Familia adventurer.
“That’s right, sir! But that’s not all; the enemy is ramping up their assault! The monsters are growing fiercer! There’s not much more we can do at this rate!”
“Curses! Our target is right under our noses, but we can’t leave our posts! Is there really no one who can stop him from strolling through our streets as he pleases?!”
From his vantage point atop a nearby theater, Olivas watched the siege and chuckled.
“Fools. You’ve boxed yourselves in, and we intend to keep it that way!”
Spreading his arms, he shouted down at his forces.
“My loyal brothers! Take the fort before they have time to even weep!”
Cheers was too joyous a word for the horrendous cries of evil that rose from the dark host and quickly spread to all parts of the city.
“It seems our time has come earlier than I expected.”
The cries of evil rang in Basram’s ears like a feast being held all across Orario, and the animal person priest of Apate Familia roused his old, yet stout, frame and gazed at the Amphitheatrum ahead.
He stood atop a building on East Main Street, surrounded by his fellows as well as the Level 5 spirit warriors.
“Still, I would much prefer to be assaulting Braver’s location rather than this colosseum.”
The Alecto Familia and Apate Familia made up the bulk of the Evils’ strike force, and thanks to their preliminary skirmishes, the Evils were confident they had mapped out all the allied strongholds. With their combined power, it would only be a matter of time before Guild HQ fell, and without Finn to lead them, Orario’s forces would quickly fold.
And yet, the Evils refrained. Basram couldn’t help but think this was Valletta’s ill nature at work. She always granted her archnemesis Finn special treatment, even when such behavior bordered on strategic error. Perhaps she intended to leave him alive until the very end in order to prove her superiority once and for all.
There was always the option of disobeying her orders and marching on Guild HQ regardless, but what Basram was seeing here at the Amphitheatrum quickly put such thoughts out of his head.
“I never expected them to be able to muster a counteroffensive without opening holes in their defense. This is a threat that cannot be ignored.”
The forces of Freya Familia were very close to eliminating their besiegers. If this happened, they would be able to sally forth and reinforce the other strongholds. Basram smiled bitterly at the thought.
Freya Familia was being supported by the blacksmiths of Hephaistos Familia and their magic swords. Their bombardment had prevented the Evils from making much progress on the barricades, a task that was made next to impossible by the presence of Vana Freya. Allen’s speed was unmatched, and he tore through the attackers’ ranks like a chariot of war.
If the Amphitheatrum garrison were allowed to go on the offensive, the balance of power would shift decisively in Orario’s favor. They would first march south, rescuing the Casino from Olivas’s forces, before joining the defense of Twilight Manor in order to liberate Loki Familia. At that point, Zald’s one-man assault would be in peril. That was why it was Basram’s job to keep the Amphitheatrum locked down and nip that possibility of relief in the bud.
“If we lose the power of Zeus and Hera, I would place our odds of winning this war at about fifty-fifty… But given the adventurers’ knack for seizing fate by the horns, perhaps it is even lower. Very irritating.”
But despite his words, the black-and-violet-swathed priest wore a smile on his lips.
There could be no doubt that the ongoing battle here at the Amphitheatrum was the pillar of Orario’s morale. Just like Braver at Guild HQ, eliminating this location meant dealing an unrecoverable blow to Orario’s forces.
“In which case,” said Basram aloud, “I am more than happy to obey Valletta’s command. In the name of our goddess, Apate, we shall beat them back.”
“““Groooooaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!”””
With a shake of the beastman’s golden staff, a dozen spirit warriors let out an earsplitting cry, and marched upon the enemy stronghold.
“Hey, Vena, I don’t think Hegni’s here, do you?”
“I heard he and Hedin are both behind that large wall of ice, sister!”
““Then what we really want to do is go over there and give them both a big, warm hug!””
Like Basram, the duo Dina and Vena were preparing for battle nearby. They stood, hands clasped, looking down from a rooftop at the Amphitheatrum in the distance.
Below, their subordinates were visibly anxious. The Dis sisters were infamous for slaughtering anyone who displeased them, friend or foe. The twin leaders of Alecto Familia shared a venomous smile, like the blossoming of a toxic flower.
““But wouldn’t Hedin and Hegni be just so happy if we put all these poor, crying people to sleep first?””
The only care in these two sirens’ heads was their twisted affection for Freya Familia’s elven brothers. The two danced gleefully in each other’s arms, their voices swollen with perverse joy, before offering the name of their spell in support of the Evils assault.
“Let the first gate devour all. Turn all hope into despair! Dialv Otua!”
From the sky came balls of black fire. Like meteors of Armageddon, they rained across the land, causing widespread destruction. The walls fell, the people screamed, and adventurers burned, while the blacksmiths used their magic swords to intercept the projectiles, defending as many of the civilians as they could. Up until now, Orario had been displaying its superiority in the defense of this location, but in the blink of an eye, the scales of war were tipped.
“Zeo Gullveig!”
Then the Andhrímnir, Freya Familia’s formation of expert healers, unleashed their spell. The mending light spread in all directions, encompassing the entire arena and restoring everything within, save the barricades and walls.
No matter how many times they were skewered, sliced, or torn up, those brave adventurers stood up once more, throwing themselves again and again into hellish battle.
“Tch! So they came after all, just like that asshole said they would!”
Executing his rampage on the north side of the Amphitheatrum, Allen suddenly stopped and looked across at the sudden emergence of Alecto Familia and Apate Familia. The indiscriminate carnage put a sour look on his face.
“And…he’s in the south…”
For all the hell the followers of Alecto and Apate were raising, there was one sound that couldn’t be silenced—that of Zald’s advance on South Main Street. Allen had been hoping to secure a rematch with the black-clad man, but it was looking vanishingly unlikely he’d get that chance. Annoyed, he took his frustrations out on a group of monsters, turning them into diced meat with one swing of his spear, which sang like a silver flute in his hands.
“M-Mr. Fromel! Wh-what do we do?!”
For direction, all the younger members of Freya Familia looked to Allen, the only first-tier adventurer on the eastern battlefield. But Allen didn’t hear their cries. His mind was on Central Park and the ice walls that surrounded the foot of Babel.
But after a short moment, as if to cast aside his regrets, or perhaps to uphold a promise he had made, he tore his gaze away.
“…We don’t do anything,” he barked back. “Just shut up and follow Finn’s plan!”
With that, he dashed across the battlefield, eyes fixed on the spirit warriors advancing toward the northeastern walls of the Colosseum.
“If you got time to complain, then you’re not fightin’ hard enough!” he yelled. “We can’t do nothin’ till we get rid of these assholes!”
As time marched on, the prelude was slowly coming to an end. The conqueror’s arrival had changed the entire state of the board. Zald strode along his path with calm and purpose, even as the battle grew wilder and wilder around him.
“Ghaaah?!”
It was the same as on the night of the Great Conflict. The man was without equal. Anyone who crossed his path became his prey. All he had to do was touch them, brush them, graze them, and his opponents were torn apart.
“You are all soft. Disgustingly soft. Too mild to even tempt my appetite, and yet…”
Within the recesses of his helmet, Zald’s steely eyes narrowed.
I know they can fight harder than this… They’re luring me in.
Zald already knew, as Valletta had surmised, that all of Orario’s forces lay behind that wall of ice, waiting in ambush.
How many did their forces number? A hundred? A thousand?
Such details were none of Zald’s concern.
“Thank you,” he said. “For preparing my feast. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.”
Beneath his helmet, behind his unchanging expression, Zald thought of the countless offerings that were waiting for him. The city’s finest warriors were nothing more than food on his plate.
He straightened his back, filled his lungs, and bellowed.
“People of Orario! In our absence, you have grown weak!”
His rumbling voice carried to every corner of the city. Adventurers and Evils alike froze and listened to his words. Even the monsters were so shocked at the noise that they stopped what they were doing and looked up to the skies.
“Come out, and cater to me with your very lives! Summon every scrap of power! Of wisdom! Of inner strength!”
Zald’s absolute demand put a sheen of sweat on every adventurer’s brow.
“That is the only way you can face the truth! Face my hunger! For the sin of weakness is far worse than gluttony!”
Finn and Allen both wore deep scowls as they glared toward the south of the city whence the voice came.
“Do not feed me disappointment, for I can stand it no longer!!”
There was no one in the city with the power to dispute his words. Zald had taught them all as much on that fateful night of tyranny.
“My throat burns with despair. Not even the fires of hell on earth can quench this bitterness!”
The man was unstoppable. No one in the city could block his path. The five strongholds and the tower of Babel quaked at his approach.
And before long, the man stood before the wall of ice.
“And so it falls to you to satisfy my thirst,” he roared. “To heat my blood and boil my flesh!”
Zald lowered his voice and raised his sword, aiming to carve a gate to his next battlefield.
“Let the feast…commence.”
A shock wave shook the city, accompanied by a peal of thunder. Countless shards of glass-like ice filled the air.
Zald stepped through the cloud of debris that had been kicked up and entered the arena. As the dust settled, the white walls of Babel came into view.
Then his eyes went wide.
“………”
There was no one there. None of the city’s finest were waiting for him.
“…Where are they? …Wait…”
“…There’s only one?”
He narrowed his eyes as he studied the plaza that was conspicuously empty…with the exception of the one boaz who stood there.
Now that the icy dust had cleared, Zald could clearly see that Ottar was alone. The boaz glared back with a heart full of courage and opened his mouth to speak.
“We shall not be disturbed,” Warlord said to the conqueror. “The task of bringing you down falls to me alone.”
Raul spotted the signal from the upper floors of Babel and came running.
“C-Captain! Zald’s reached Central Park! He’s made contact with Warlord!!”
Finn’s order was immediate. All the building tension in his body was instantly converted into movement, like a fisherman who had finally hooked the catch he had been waiting for.
“Activate the barrier!” he yelled. “Seal off Central Park and signal our allies!”
Raul hurried to a nearby desk and grabbed one of many flare guns lined up on it. Raising it overhead, he sent a blue streak trailing into the sky.
At the same time, an enormous glowing forcefield appeared.
“Huh?! What the hell’s goin’ on?!”
“A-a barrier has appeared around Central Park, ma’am! It surrounds the wall of ice, Babel…everything!”
This unexpected turn of events bewildered the Evils. Valletta looked on in shock.
Far off in the distance, she could see that dozens of mages had taken to the rooftops around Central Park and raised their staffs in unison. Evidently, they had chanted their spells well in advance, because the barriers appeared without delay, layer upon layer, all differing colors and elements, forming a hemispherical dome around the city center.
“A barrier?! They’re trappin’ Zald inside Central Park?! But why?!”
Although she didn’t yet understand the reason, something about this turn of events gave Valletta a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. However, she didn’t have to wonder for long before her answer came in the form of a bellowing roar.
“““Rrraaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!”””
It came from the center of the city.
“What is it this time?!” she spat in irritation, when a second subordinate ran over, even more flustered than the first.
“New enemies have joined the fray, ma’am! They showed up just after the signal flare was fired!”
The news made Valletta’s eyes snap wide open.
“That’s the signal! We’ve hidden long enough! Now is the time to fight!!”
In the southwest of the city, near the trading district, the doors of a mansion built right next to the Ganesha Familia home flew open. Out came Shakti, leading an army of her familia’s elites with her powerful voice.
“I-it’s an ambush! We’re surrounded—aaaaaaaghh!!”
Just as the Evils were certain that the stronghold was on the verge of falling, Shakti’s unit took their forces by surprise and struck them with a rear charge.
Meanwhile, in the shopping district to the south, an army of adventurers came rushing out of a different casino.
“Our enemy has overextended themselves by attacking all the strongholds!” yelled Asfi, leading the charge. “Take them out swiftly, before they have a chance to reform their lines!”
“You’re finally here, Asfi!” cried Falgar, his face awash with relief. “Perfect! All units, no more defending! Time to bring the fight to them!”
“““Raaaaaaaaahhh!!”””
Falgar raised his greatsword high, and the stronghold’s defenders, only too eager to exact payback for the pummeling they’d received, descended from the barricades and launched themselves at the enemy. Working in perfect sync with Asfi’s strike team, the two forces pincered the horde of monsters and cultists.
“They’re everywhere! Have they been hiding in the buildings this entire time?!”
Olivas stood atop a building, spared from the carnage below but unable to avert his eyes from it.
“They knew we would gather our forces at the strongholds… This was a trap all along!”
The vigor in the adventurers’ voices confirmed his suspicions. It was a trap, and the Evils had fallen for it magnificently. Over on the roof of a trading-house in the southwest, the information from her eyes and ears forced Valletta to confront this uncomfortable truth. Even if she didn’t know the full extent of it yet, it was impossible to deny what was happening.
“L-Lady Valletta! Our forces at the strongholds…they’ve all come under attack by adventurers who came out of hiding!”
“An ambush? But it doesn’t add up! Were they hiding there all along? There’s too many! All the other adventurers were supposed to be at Central Park!!”
Valletta couldn’t shake the apprehension that had crept into her voice.
“Unless…there’s no one there!”
When the realization hit her, she emitted a wrathful snarl.
“That wall of ice was just a distraction! It was meant to make us think that they were hiding an army!!”
“Th-then…who is Zald facing? Surely they don’t mean to ignore him completely!”
“Ottar!! It’s gotta be that pig bastard! We been followin’ Finn’s lead this entire time, and now the board’s set up just the way he wants!”
Finn’s sole aim was the enemy king and queen.
The bulk of the city’s forces had been gathered in Central Park to take out Zald and Alfia.
These were both myths that Valletta was made to believe.
The whole time, Finn had been leading them, as if by magic, with a beckoning finger.
The civilians had never been bait at all. The entire board was the bait. And by leaning so heavily on the power of Zeus and Hera, Valletta had ended up handing Finn the outcome he had truly been seeking.
“Finn, you bastaaaard!!”
The moment she realized the truth, that she had been dancing in Finn’s palm all along, the veins in Valletta’s forehead bulged, and she exploded with fury.
But far across the city, Finn continued executing his maneuvers without delay.
“All units, keep up the pressure! Don’t let this chance slip through our fingers!”
The brave adventurers carried out his commands with enthusiasm.
“Ignore the monsters! Focus on the Evils up on the rooftops!”
Shakti hopped from building to building, beating back enemies with her spear.
“They don’t have full control over the beasts! Force them into the streets and let the monsters tear them to shreds!”
Finn had entrusted command of the southwest district to Shakti, and the eagle-eyed captain lived up to her role by accurately discerning the relationship between the two enemy forces.
There were well over a hundred monsters in total, and there were at least five locations to attack. Even if the Evils had possessed tamers of sufficient skill, it was an impossible task to control the entire horde. There were simply too many of them.
Ganesha Familia, on the other hand, was home to many tamers. Shakti herself was one of the best in the entire city, and nobody understood the behavior of monsters better than she. One slip on the part of the Evils, and their greatest ally in this battle could very well become a crushing liability.
Over in the casino area, Asfi made another keen observation.
“Think of it like a pass parade!” she yelled. “The enemy only has so many tamers! Make them pay for that!”
The only enemies who could exert influence over the horde were those holding tamers’ whips, and these were few in number. They each commanded just one of the stronger monsters in the hopes that the lesser ones would simply follow suit. For someone familiar with the behavior patterns of the species, then, this method was a crude but simple means of controlling an entire horde. However, if the tamer or the stronger monster was defeated, all hell would break loose.
“““Raaaaaaaaaaahhh!!”””
The adventurers hit hard and fast. They had cloaked their scents with deodorizing items so as not to betray their presence to the monsters or any animal people among the Evils. All throughout their hiding, they had been forced to listen to the dying screams of their friends, biting their own arms until they drew blood so they would not rush out and reveal themselves too early.
Now was the time to unleash their pent-up anger on the witless Evils.
“E-eek!!”
“Their attack…it can’t be stopped!”
The adventurers raised their voices, striking fear into the hearts of the monsters and cultists alike, turning the tables on their foe in an instant. Led by the veteran adventurers, they advanced on their targets, eager to repay the debt incurred on the night of the Great Conflict.
“Focus on eliminating the Evils! Now is the time to exact our revenge!!”
Asfi leaped into the fray alongside her allies, careful not to let the deaths of Lydis and Adi blind her. She wanted her black hatred to become scarlet courage.
The enemy’s greatest losses, however, were suffered to the east.
“Struggle for eternity, indestructible soldiers of lightning.”
There it was not a rallying war cry that announced the beginning of Orario’s ambush, but a single chant, spoken in a voice colder than ice. Just northeast of the Amphitheatrum itself, atop a magic stone factory, Hedin stood alone. His patience had been tested to the very limit, like a bowstring about to snap, and so, the instant the magical shield that concealed his presence dropped, he unleashed his boundless anger.
“Caurus Hildr!!”
What that bowstring let fly was no arrow, but thousands upon thousands of balls of lightning that rained down without mercy on the Evils forces that swarmed the Amphitheatrum.
“Gaaaaaaaaaaghhh?!”
“Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugghhh?!”
Unlike Shakti and Asfi, there was no need for him to focus his efforts. The tyrannical thunder laid waste to human and monster alike without distinction, detonating the Evils’ suicide bombs and causing a string of explosions that tore through their ranks.
“Ggh?!”
“Zheeeeaaaaaaahhhh?!”
Basram’s spirit warriors were no exception. Madly and mindlessly focused on what was in front of them, eight of them were struck from behind by Hedin’s lightning, leaving only four still standing. The sharp-witted mage unleashed another barrage, eager to wipe out this threat while the opportunity presented itself, but while mad, the spirit warriors still possessed the extreme capabilities of Level 5s. Their unnatural recovery rate healed the wounds in the blink of an eye, or they used their animallike reflexes to dodge the blasts. However…
“Slaughter all until the feast is finished! Dáinsleif!”
Like a calamitous black star, the dark elf tore across the battlefield, swinging his sword with extreme speed.
“Gaaaaaaghh?!”
“What?!”
Basram looked on in shock as Hegni sliced one of the spirit warriors clean in half from shoulder to hip. It was a wound even the creation’s regenerative abilities could not heal. Hegni and Hedin very rarely cooperated closely, but when they did, the result was devastating.
““““Basram!””””
Meanwhile came the voices and weapons of four prum brothers. Like Hegni, they entered the battlefield with calm disregard for the barrage of lightning summoned by their ally. The Gullivers carved a path through the monsters, arriving before the dark priest and launching their spear, hammer, ax, and sword in his direction.
“Grh!!”
“L-Lord Basram, what are you…? Gaaagh!”
The sturdily built priest hooked his arm around an ally, pulling him in to act as his own meat shield. While the hapless cultist was torn apart by the spear and blade, then smashed to pieces by the hammer and ax, the sheer force of the prums’ combined attack sent Basram flying back as well. He looked down at his right hand, which was now missing the third and ring fingers, and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
He raised the staff in his left hand and rang it, summoning the four spirit soldiers who’d escaped Hedin’s assault to his side, thus blocking any further follow-attacks from the Gullivers.
Elsewhere, two girls squealed with joy.
““There you are, Hegni, Hedin!!””
It was the Dis sisters. Initially deployed to assault the south side of the Amphitheatrum, they had spotted the targets of their twisted affection on the northeast and headed straight over. The murderous gazes of Orario’s white and dark elves fell on them, sending a shiver coursing down their spines as they unleashed a magical greeting in the form of a fiery hail.
The Freya Familia elves responded with a storm of lightning and the flashing steel of the dark warrior king. Flames and thunder canceled each other out, while the dark elf’s steel sang a deadly duet with the stiletto blade of his foe.
Only seventeen seconds had passed since the ambush began, and already the bulk of the Evils troops had been wiped out, leaving only the lieutenants unharmed.
The smoldering corpses of Evils and monsters comprised the backdrop for what ensued. The twisted twins invited their kinsmen to a deadly tea party, while the wicked priest composed his dark hymn for the four warriors who fought at his side.
The arrival of the city’s first-tier adventurers had thrown the city into chaos, and in the east, Orario was about to see its fiercest battle yet.
“A-allied forces taking heavy losses, ma’am!! They’re steadily isolating our troops, cutting them off from the chain of command, particularly in the east!”
“They’re using the monsters against us! We started with the advantage in numbers, but if this keeps up…!”
The subordinates’ voices and their accompanying woes piled up in Valletta’s ear. It was obvious this was no slapdash ambush: it was a carefully calculated plan with the aim of surrounding the Evils in five locations at once.
As much as she hated to admit it, she could deny the truth no longer. Finn had played her like a fool, and Valletta was angrier than she had ever been in her life.
“Damn you, Finn,” she growled. “You really think this stupid little scheme is going to help you?! You’re gonna give up on your only shot at beatin’ Zald so you can mop up our weaklings instead? Leave Ottar to die in a one-on-one? And you think that’s a good plan? You’re outta your goddamn mind!”
Her scowl deepened, and she spat out the unalterable truth.
“Once that boar bastard goes down, it’s over for you! You hear me?!”
Finn’s move was one Valletta’s calculating mind could never have created. It was bizarre, mind-boggling, and difficult to see therein any genius whatsoever. If this was the culmination of Braver’s plays, then Valletta could scarcely believe her archnemesis’s idiocy.
“Don’t think for one second this ‘power of friendship’ bullshit is gonna turn things around! Is that really your plan, Finn?!”
Though he could not hope to hear her furious yells, far across the city, Finn replied all the same.
“No, Valletta. It’s not,” he said. “It’s a matter of risk versus reward. Our choices were a pitched battle that would almost certainly result in heavy losses, or a duel between the two strongest forces in the city. We chose the latter.”
Finn spoke with determination.
“We chose Ottar. He gives us the highest chances of beating Zald.”
Though they were from different familias, Finn had witnessed the power of the boaz man firsthand. He thought back to a moment from fifteen years ago, before the Age of Darkness even began.
“You don’t know Warlord like I do, Valletta. You don’t know what he’s been through.”
In that time, Ottar had suffered tremendously. While his strength was great enough that it made others quake in their boots, there were those in the city who had surpassed him. Ottar had tasted the ignominy of defeat many times at their hands.
“But I know. I know what Zeus and Hera did to him, and I know that never once was he content to stay defeated. I know something you don’t, Valletta, and that is that Ottar will never give up!”
The cliff Ottar wanted to climb towered ruthlessly high. At the top was a pressure weighty enough to crush any common man. Even if he climbed all the way up, that still wouldn’t let him reach the thunder that sparked above it. And even if he reached it, the lightning could easily tear him to shreds.
Everyone knew that Ottar’s quest was not brave; it was foolish. Yet the man continued on his foolish path nonetheless. For he could not abide his own weakness, nor could he allow his goddess to wallow in infamy.
Raw persistence, willpower, and self-loathing alone drove him to conquer that indomitable peak.
“Ottar has the teeth to bite back at Zald! If he can’t do it, then no one in this city can!”
That was the hero’s plan.
That was Warlord’s obsession.
Finn focused his azure eyes on the magical dome surrounding Babel.
“Isn’t that right, Ottar?” he said.
“Finn and I… We always looked up to you.”
In Central Park, Warlord and Glutton stared each other down. Clad in his multitude of armaments, Ottar slowly raised and clenched his fist.
“The peak of despair, and a roiling anger. These are what you left me, and I always swore I would leave them behind.”
It was not adoration. Nor was it envy or hate. To Ottar, Zeus and Hera represented nothing more than a wall that needed to be scaled.
“The time to fulfill that oath…is now. It is today.”
Ottar raised his gaze, fixing his eyes on those of the warrior in black before him.
“Today is the day I surpass you. Today is the day my teeth tear at your flesh.”
Zald’s mouth, the only visible part of him, curled into a grin.
“Very well, mewling brat.”
It lasted only a second, replaced with a howling roar.
“You face me alone! The weight of this city’s fate lies on your back! And still you seek to devour me?”
Zald’s voice tremored with glee and a thirst for battle. Even his thick armor seemed incapable of repressing his aura, which caused the hairs on Ottar’s skin to bristle.
“Very well! Let us see what you can do! Become a beast! Cast off your weak flesh and consume mine! At long last, a feast I can enjoy!”
Ottar pulled out two longswords as Zald made his move. Glutton unsheathed his black slab of steel, then raised it up to the sky as if in prayer.
“Which will win the day: your obsession, or my disappointment? Let the gods above bear witness!”
High above, a goddess stood on the uppermost floor of Babel.
“Oh yes, I’m watching.”
From her private seat, Freya alone gazed down at the battle about to unfold.
“A baptism. A battle where the very fate of the world hangs in the balance… And, if all goes well, this will be the moment my child ascends.”
Her silver eyes locked on the combatants below.
“Go forth, Ottar. This is your greatest test yet. Do not disappoint me.”
Her words were the signal for the duel to begin. The two fighters, swords raised, let out a yell and dashed for each other.
““Rrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!””
Pure brute strength drove their weapons. Power surged from their muscles to their steel, unleashing a shock that rattled the very earth, and which could be heard in every part of the city.
A titanic clash of blades ensued, sending sound waves rippling throughout Orario that people mistook for the explosive belches of flames spat forth by a fire-breathing wyrm. The cacophony was so overwhelming that the rumbles of the Dungeon monster seemed to pale in comparison.
“It’s started!” cried Asfi, shuddering as she stood in the casino area of the pleasure district. “The battle between Orario’s champions of yesterday and today!”
“Each blow feels like an earthquake!” said Shakti, from the home of Ganesha Familia. “It’s unbelievable!”
“If you lose out there, I’ll kill you!!” spat Allen, in a brief moment of pause during his rampage around the Amphitheatrum.
While adventurers around the city were shocked by what they heard and felt, they were not disheartened by it. The thrum of Warlord’s blades instilled in them a sense of courage, and they turned their own claws upon the Evils with renewed vigor.
The forces of Orario and their foes were roughly equal, and with their enemy’s strongest piece locked inside Central Park, the adventurers held the upper hand on the outside.
“Grr, the fight’s still goin’. This ain’t a complete wash like on the night of the Great Conflict. Looks like that pig bastard’s been trainin’…”
Valletta’s lips curled into a nasty snarl. But she only allowed herself to succumb to anger for a moment before readopting the cruel coolheaded persona that earned her the alias of Arachnia. With a calm mind, she reevaluated the impact of Finn’s plan, and of Ottar’s duel.
None of it matters so long as Zald wins—which he will. There’s something more important I’ve been thinking about…
She turned back and addressed her subordinates.
“Look lively, numbnuts! I wanna know the name of every last first-tier adventurer who’s fightin’ out there in the streets!”
“Y-y-yes, ma’am! I-it will only take a moment…”
The flustered subordinate was about to hurry off to gather the information his mistress requested, when a man with bloodred hair appeared and answered her query.
“Besides Braver and Warlord, I have also spotted Vana Freya, Bringar, plus Dáinsleif and Hildsleif,” he said.
“You picked a damn fine time to show your face, Faceless. Where have you been all this time?”
“I was curious as to how Glutton fared and went to see for myself. I apologize for my tardiness, my lady.”
Valletta was a little taken aback by the uncharacteristic honesty of the man’s apology. She knit her brows and waited to hear the rest of Vito’s report.
“Vana Freya is defending the stronghold, while Dáinsleif, Hildsleif, and Bringar are engaged with the Apate Familia and Alecto Familia,” he went on.
Freya Familia had devoted themselves to the defense of the Amphitheatrum, in the eastern quarter of the city. The most heated battle in Orario’s history was taking place there, second only to the one in which Ottar was engaged at the foot of Babel.
“As for Nine Hell and Elgarm…I couldn’t say. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of either of them—nor, for that matter, the girls of Astrea Familia.”
Vito surveyed the view from the trading house rooftop once more. While Astrea’s followers were not exactly linchpins of the enemy force by most standards—the highest among them were Level 3—they had quickly become beacons of hope in the city’s eyes. Vito was keen to emphasize that they were not a force to be taken lightly.
There’s no way Finn’s still keeping cards close to his chest at this point. Which can only mean…
Her eyes narrowed like daggers. The theory she was currently entertaining was outlandish, but if Finn was behind it, anything was possible.
“Listen to me, Vito. I want you to head through Knossos and enter the Dungeon.”
The look on her face was graver than any Vito had seen before. At the mention of Knossos, their subordinates standing nearby shuddered.
“Hmm? And why is that?” Vito replied.
“Because everyone up here is focused on Zald,” said Valletta. “I ain’t seen anyone gearin’ up for the monster that’s about to come outta Babel.”
She gnashed her teeth in vexation.
“That can only mean one thing: Finn’s sent a team down there to deal with it. That’s gotta be where Astrea Familia is at, plus that damned high elf and dwarf of his.”
“A little overkill, no? Especially when his forces are so valuable here on the surface.” Vito opened his eye a crack. “You don’t suppose he knows about our little shortcut, do you?”
“Suspects, maybe. No way he knows for sure. If he did, he’d have done somethin’ about it by now.”
But the fact this was only a hunch made Finn’s actions all the more incredible.
“I don’t believe ya, Finn! Actin’ so decisively when you ain’t got a shred of proof! It’s insane, I tell ya! I’ve never met anyone who’s got half the nerve you do!”
Of course, she didn’t know that Finn had changed the plan to be this way at the last minute due to the tingling of his thumb. Vito was silent for a while, but he soon realized, as Valletta did, that Finn’s plans endangered their own.
“…Very well, I shall take a contingent and head down there at once. That is where the key to our victory lies, after all. But are you sure you don’t need me up here?”
“You’re the only one I can trust with this, Faceless,” Valletta shot back. “Olivas is a useless piece of shit. Besides, I still got one more trick up my sleeve.”
Valletta’s mind went to her secret weapon, and she relished a chance to unleash it.
“I’m sure you ain’t forgotten,” she said to Vito, “but the upper gates are all closed off after what we did to our allies.”
The mass exodus that took place on the night of the Great Conflict was made up in part by the Evils’ own gods. Erebus had fully intended all along to use them as sacrifices.
Of course, the followers of those sacrificed gods had not taken the decision lightly, and the Evils secret base had suffered heavy damage in the ensuing unrest. As one final act of resistance, the cornered gods had destroyed the gates leading to the upper floors of the Dungeon.
“Which means…?” asked Vito.
“You’ll be headin’ to the middle floors—the eighteenth floor, to be exact.”
The corners of her mouth curled upward. The prelude had almost reached its finale.
“If there’s gonna be a war, it’ll be there.”
An enormous tremor rattled every bone in the adventurers’ bodies. It felt as if they were standing over a dragon’s open jaw, readying to jump in.
The brow of every member of Astrea Familia was slick with sweat. Lyu’s fingers tightened around her swords.
“It’s getting closer!”
They were currently on the seventeenth floor, and the tremors from below were growing stronger by the second.
Lyu sliced a minotaur in two, carving a path for her allies. She was desperately trying to turn her mounting tension into strength rather than fear.
“We’re almost at the eighteenth floor,” noted Aiz, clearing the hordes with her sword.
“And these rumbles are no joke!” added Gareth, swinging his ax. “No doubt the monster will meet us there as planned!”
The strike team had been able to maintain a good pace and were quickly approaching the deepest part of the seventeenth floor—the Great Wall of Sorrows.
“I suppose that means we needn’t worry about being late to the party,” said Kaguya, narrowing her eyes and licking her lips in anticipation.
“Yeah, in fact, the timing’s so perfect it’s scary!” cried Lyra. “The heck is wrong with you, Finn?!”
This location was meant to be home to the Goliath, a Monster Rex, but right now it was startlingly empty. It was as though all the powerful monsters of the Dungeon had gone into hiding.
“We’ll take up our positions before the enemy arrives,” said Riveria. “As soon as we reach floor eighteen, take the high ground. We’ll start the battle with a fusillade of spells!”
“Got it!” came Alize’s spirited reply. “Leave it to us!”
She sprinted off ahead, and the rest of Astrea Familia followed. But just then, Lyu spotted something strange. A scarlet ember was dancing in the air.
“…Sparks? Where are they coming from…?”
But Alize didn’t notice the girl’s confusion. “I see the way to floor eighteen right ahead! I’m going in!”
She leaped through the hole at the end of the room, into a dark tunnel that slanted downward. Soon, the light of the exit came into view, and Alize jumped out into the world beyond.
Instantly, she felt a blistering heat.
Her ears were deafened by a thundering roar.
And hellfire stretched as far as the eye could see.
“Wha—?!”
Lyu was at a loss for words.
Kaguya, Lyra, and Aiz couldn’t speak, either.
The girls of Astrea Familia froze.
Riveria and Gareth paused, their eyes wide.
“…What…happened…?” muttered Alize, stupefied.
The Dungeon paradise was on fire, and it now looked like a gateway to hell.
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