Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka - Volume 17 - Chapter 5

  CHAPTER 5

THE END OF HER WORLD

It intensifies.

The battle on the field, the holy death match. The baptism by the first-tier adventurers.

“—soldiers of lightning.”

“Ghhh?!”

The short cast echoes cruelly.

I’ve just been slammed by magic, and despair claws at me when I realize another round is already coming as I quickly move to evade it with all my might.

“Caurus Hildr.”

A fusillade of lightning falls.

Each bolt is a swift arrowhead the size of my head, pouring down all around me as if fired by a whole regiment of soldiers. I manage to avoid the first few blasts, but after that, I falter and clumsily absorb a hellish number of strikes.

Shot, burned, chipped, and electrified.

Even the blood spattered around me is scorched and comes to a boil.

I can’t see for the flashes of lightning erupting all around me, and for a moment, my consciousness goes blank before a merciless declaration reaches my ears.

“Strike forever, indestructible lord of lightning.”

—A third cast?!

It’s too fast!

Calling his casting ability transcendental did not do it justice. Master was doing successive high-speed casts, ruthlessly unleashing even more lightning.

“Valiant Hildr.”

An enormous lightning spear pierces me where I stand frozen.

A first-tier adventurer’s rampage.

The tyranny of a single elf.

It had already been a severe enough battle, but one day Master simply declared, “Pathetic.”

And thus began a fierce, one-sided struggle.

Master began unleashing his magic and destroyed me countless times. Even now, a corner of Folkvangr was swirling in the grips of a white elf’s lightning storm. Any person or monster who took one step inside it would meet their end, and I was forced to try to survive while trapped inside the storm.

“—Aaaaa, guhah?! Igh…ahhhhhh?!”

Activating my skill—charging my right leg for just a brief moment, I somehow manage to kick the ground and escape the line of fire, but half of my body is charred.

I had no hope of evading it in time. I’m writhing in agony like a beast from the blast fired with deadly timing, while Master has already closed the distance between us.

Tears are welling in my eyes from the intense pain as he follows up with another attack.

“Haah!”

“Uwah?!”

A spear-like kick hits my shoulder. I can hear bones breaking. My charred left arm is now well and truly unusable. Master’s rhomphaia hurtles at me. That at least I manage to deflect with the knife in my right hand, escaping death, a desperate extension.

Responding with martial arts—is hopeless. I can’t get through even if I force hand-to-hand combat. Master outclasses me even at close range. If I try to use Firebolt, my arm will get severed by his rhomphaia. There’s no way one of the greatest magic swordsmen in the city would overlook the telltale flow of mind that telegraphs a spell. The moment I resort to a cheap spell will be the end for me.

Master…why…?!

This is wrong. It’s all wrong.

He’s totally different from the master I remember. The Hedin who trained me to escort Syr. And as if declaring that it was all just my own foolish imagination, every trace of the expression from my memories has been erased entirely. His eyes are shaded with cruelty, and he is really trying to kill me.

A groaning cry emanates from the pit of my stomach as I attempt the best counterattack I can unleash.

But there is just a slapping sound as he deflects it with the palm of his hand and immediately follows up with an attack to the right side of my head while I stand there in a daze. He spins, unleashing a snakelike elbow strike to my temple. I stop breathing and my knees buckle, and like a broken rag doll, I leave myself wide open.

“Fool.”

“Gaaaaaaah—”

He spins his rhomphaia violently down toward my body.

It bites deep into my shoulder, and a swell of blood pours from the wound. There’s no question it’s a mortal wound.

Strength leaves me, and the scene reflected in my eyes as I stagger backward is Master’s figure, his rhomphaia swung upward, preparing to deliver the next blow.

As time slows to crawl, it begins to swing down—

““““Stop, Hedin.””””

—but it doesn’t land.

Alfrik, Dvalinn, Berling, and Grer all have their weapons at Master’s throat, stopping his rhomphaia.

As I’m drawn to the ground with a mortal wound, collapsing entirely onto my back, a murderous voice echoes on the field.

“You’ve gone too far.”

“Did you forget how to hold back?”

“Are you trying to actually destroy him?”

“Even Heith and the others won’t be able to fully heal him.”

At the edge of my vision, I can see Heith and the other healers growing pale at Master’s sadism.

The healers have not been able to keep up with the treatment at all. They don’t dare approach because of the tempestuous rain of lightning. Even if they could have gotten close enough to heal me, my body has been carved away with deadly precision.

The other familia members around us are the same. Van and the rest are staring at us in silent shock, their own battle forgotten.

At some point, the sky grew a bloody, crimson color. I can’t remember when it started, but the sun was beginning to set.

“Are you okay, Bell?”

“Aah, ngh, argh…?!”

Hegni gives me an elixir and sits me up.

A billow of smoke rises from my wound, and the effects of the dramatic healing assault me. I let out a formless scream as Hegni supports my back while glaring at Master…

“What are you plotting, old foe? For what reason do you enact such tyranny?”

“As if that question should need asking. It’s obvious,” Master fires back at the censure in the eyes of his fellow first-tier adventurers. “This idiot rabbit has attracted the love of our beloved goddess. Therefore, it’s imperative he prove his worth. If he does not prove to possess a soul worthy of our mistress…then none will accept it!”

His honest, unvarnished shout is filled with intense emotion.

The others all fall silent.

Out here in Folkvangr, there is nothing mistaken about that warrior’s battle cry.

“Everything else means nothing! Fulfilling the goddess’s wish is your duty!”

Suffering from blood loss, my vision fuzzy, I look up.

The elf’s coral eyes are looking at me, calling to me.

“Stand! Rise to your feet!”

“…ghh…”

“You must stand!”

He, who had vowed loyalty to the goddess, more earnest than anyone, is looking just at me.

“Prove that you are the Odr for whom the goddess has so long waited!”

The elf’s shout thunders as it slams into me.

The next day, and the day after that, Master continues to increase the intensity of the baptism.

“What mental obstruction hides within thy mind, Hedin?”

Hegni’s eyes were flared as he pressed Hedin, who remained unmoved.

“It appears you want to ask me what I’m thinking, but what do you mean?”

“You know full well! The white hare is the goddess’s offering! Such sadism will corrode his innocent heart! You leave me no choice but to be the hare’s knight!”

When the city was shrouded in dark night, the first-tier adventurers of Freya Familia gathered in a certain room deep within Folkvangr. The Gullivers were sitting at the table, Allen had his arms crossed and was leaning against the wall looking bored, and Ottar stood silent. It was the place where a lone white elf stood in judgment for his excessive persecution of the boy.

In response to Hegni’s menacing glare, Hedin snorted.

“What knight, you fool? Do you wish to earn more incomprehensible derision from the deities?”

“Th-that has nothing to do with it…?!”

Hegni’s eyes watered, and he immediately switched back to his normal voice at having that bit of old history dredged up.

“Then have you grown attached to that fool? Would you call that thing your friend?”

“F-friend?! No, no, no! It’s true that this human is a good-natured and kind person, and I get the sense that no matter how deep into chaos I might slip, he would speak to me with consideration, yes, but at best he is like an apprentice!…No, this feeling is…an unrivaled friend?”

The dark elf whose nature was so shy and timid had an over-the-top reaction to the word “friend,” and his focus was cast into a world of imagination.

Glaring in annoyance at Hegni, who was off on a wild adventure in his head, Alfrik and his brothers spoke up.

“It’s true that Lady Freya entrusted Bell Cranell’s training to you.”

“But even so, your rash behavior these past few days is intolerable.”

“Don’t try to dodge the question by blowing smoke up that idiot’s ass.”

“If you do not have any ulterior motives, then explain yourself.”

And the prum brothers threatened implicitly, If you do not have an acceptable reason, we will draw and quarter you.

Hedin sighed with more than a trace of disappointment.

“Are your eyes just decorative holes?”

““““What did you say?””””

“In this sandbox at this very moment, the one being driven into a corner is not that fool, but Milady.”

““““!!!””””

It was not just the Gullivers; even Hegni’s and Allen’s eyes widened at that statement.

“Bell Cranell is worn down, yet he is unbowed by our trick. Meanwhile, he is disturbing the goddess’s heart.”

As he said that, Hedin looked at the boaz, the only one whose expression had remained unchanged.

As Alfrik and the rest also turned their attention to him, Ottar, who had been serving at Freya’s side, responded with a delicate expression, as if he had some idea of what Hedin was saying.

“…It’s true that Milady has spent more time of late alone in contemplation. Either looking up at the sky from her window without listening to the maids’ conversations or taking her meals. Other times she’s merely been looking out at the field to watch the boy fight. And…” Ottar added, “it seems as if her time is mostly spent in self-reflection.”

The Gullivers could not hide their shock.

“The thought of someone resisting her charm is enchanting the goddess. We must corner that foolish rabbit at once and bring him down. I’m merely taking the steps necessary for that to happen.”

Hegni and the Gullivers closed their mouths at the words of Hedin, who stood in the role of commander or strategist.

After silencing those who had been accompanying him in the boy’s baptism, Hedin turned his gaze to Allen.

“Starting tomorrow, you join the baptism, too, cat.”

“My job right now is watching the tavern. What are you thinking, giving that monstrous dwarf a chance to do whatever she wants, dumbass?”

“Do you really still intend to play the fool? Quit using Mia as an excuse.”

“!”

“You and Milady have already made a move against the tavern. There is no more reason for you to bother with it. Leave watching it to Van and them.”

Allen was silenced by the elf’s insinuation, which seemed to have hit home.

Beating him about the head with sound arguments, Hedin stepped right in front of the cat person, who was shorter than him, and leaned in close.

“Or what? Do you still have some attachment to that idiotic sister of yours, even after abandoning her once?”

“—You wanna die, gnat?”

Allen’s pupils flared, and he unleashed a full-powered burst of murderous intent.

A normal person would have been helplessly overwhelmed, but Hedin did not waver in the slightest.

“Our mistress is in crisis. Obey.”

“….tch…”

The first to look away in the staring contest was Allen.

Scoffing instead of a verbal acknowledgment—a silent acceptance. Irritated, he pushed Hedin back with one hand.

There was no argument from Hegni, Alfrik, or the rest of the brothers.

All of their priorities aligned at the top, at Freya. Every one of them wanted most to protect the goddess’s heart.

Pushed away, Hedin fixed his clothes and turned finally to the boaz.

“You too, Ottar. Crush that rabbit with your sword.”

“…There is no need for me to join as well. I leave it to you, Hedin.”

The warrior’s words were few.

He firmly rejected the demand. Instead, as the familia’s captain, he entrusted the task entirely to Hedin.

Rust-colored and coral eyes met.

Hedin made no further attempts to draw him in.

“…We will corner the fool beginning tomorrow. Do not allow any pity to move you. Do it thoroughly and completely.”

He pushed his glasses up as he delivered the merciless pronouncement.

“Freya Familia’s movements have changed…?”

Asfi was observing Folkvangr from atop the city wall as she murmured to herself.

It was exactly noon, but the sky was shrouded in gray clouds. As the rest of the city returned to normal after the Goddess Festival, unaware of the fact that it had been twisted by the power of Freya’s charm, Perseus was still fighting, even if she was now alone.

The battle she had been tasked with was righting the wrong that had warped Orario.

From the information I’ve gathered already, it is clear Bell Cranell has been forced to fight in Folkvangr for consecutive days, but…this is growing more intense…!

Maintaining her invisibility with the Hades Head, she was peering through the magic item while exercising extreme caution—praying that Freya did not notice her presence from the top of Babel—and Asfi was covered in a cold sweat. Even though she was so far away, it almost felt like she could hear Bell’s groans and screams of pain.

The cat person’s swift spear, the prums’ waves of attacks, the dark elf’s slashes that severed everything, and the white elf’s terrifying magic all enveloped the boy in a storm of blood and destruction.

This is far more intense than just their usual baptism, and it almost feels like they’re losing their composure…Are they getting impatient? The one and only Freya Familia?

The goddess of beauty and her followers should have already attained victory.

They had created a perfect sandbox, a prison that the boy could not possibly escape. They were surely aware that Asfi was watching, but she was just a single second-tier adventurer who could view events only from a distance, and there was no way she could dramatically alter the state of the board.

There should not be anyone who could threaten them, not in Orario, not in all of the mortal realm.

Then…an Irregular? Some unforeseen thing that is disturbing their familia…no, Goddess Freya herself?

And if such a thing could happen, then the only one who could be causing it was Bell Cranell.

During the incident with Ishtar Familia, Hermes had suggested that there was a possibility that charm did not work on Bell. Because if it did, there was no reason for Ishtar not to charm Bell and use him as a shield against Freya when her familia stormed through the Pleasure Quarter in a fiery blitz.

At the time, Asfi had laughed off the idea of someone defeating the charm of a goddess of beauty, but given what she had seen so far, that idea was gaining strength.

Most likely Freya Familia was losing patience with Bell for continuing to resist, for refusing to give in, and they were getting tired of waiting.

Or else Bell himself was becoming something that threatened to destroy the sandbox.

“Bell Cranell…what even are you…?”

In her exhaustion, Asfi let her real feelings slip out in a whisper.

That boy was practically a contagion of chaos at this point. Like the time with the Xenos, incidents centered around him exploded and shook the world. Or perhaps it was the opposite, and it was people like that who truly had the qualifications to be a hero.

For Asfi, a worldly person who wished to avoid troublesome matters as much as possible, Bell was someone who made her want to plead with tears in her eyes to just leave her alone—even if she understood that, from his point of view, it was an unreasonable request and he had not actually done anything bad himself—

She was split between despair and sympathy for the boy who seemed to summon trouble as she pinched the back of her hand and forced herself to stop from spiraling into a bad place.

Anyway! I can observe Vana Freya and the rest of them from here, and Warlord is surely at his goddess’s side…! With all of the first-tier adventurers gathered at their home, whatever the reason, their surveillance network must have loosened! There’s no mistaking it! I should be able to move more freely now…!

She could maintain her stealth as long as it was not against those monsters.

Freya Familia? Who cares about einherjar? I’m Perseus. Against anyone on the same level as me, I can slip past easily. If I’m surrounded by Level 4s, then it’s game over, but I’m going to break through no matter what, damn it!

Driven forward by a desperate motivation in the back of her mind, Asfi silently began to move, making a list of the deities who might possibly be able to help her as she went.

“Haaah…I’m such a useless goddess…”

Hestia was melancholic.

Unable even to see the sunset through the clouds, she was walking falteringly through the hall of the home, steadying herself on pillars as a sense of powerlessness hammered her.

This was her general mood ever since Ouranos had driven her from his chamber.

She had skipped her shift at work for several days in a row, and the owner of the Jyaga Maru Kun shop was mad enough to come beating down the door of the home, which in turn meant that Hephaistos’s store of patience was probably close to running dry. The moment she would be fired was drawing near. And Lilly, who did not know anything about what was going on, had berated her to get back to work because it was causing the familia problems. Hestia wasn’t trying to use it as an excuse to slack off. She just couldn’t pretend everything was normal while her precious follower was all alone.

“Bell…”

Her heart felt like it was being torn in half by the reality that Bell was still suffering even that very moment.

A rustling sound roused her from those painful thoughts.

“Huh? What, a scrap of paper…?”

Where did that come from? Did I drop it?

Hestia cocked her head at the odd scene as she reached down to pick it up. It was almost as if an invisible person had dropped it right in front of her.

“‘I forgot something in the workshop’…?”

Opening the torn fragment of paper, she read the Koine written across it.

Her eyes widened at the red pen strokes that were written like a note to herself not to forget something.

“Welllllf! Are you there, Welf?!”

She made a point of calling out in a particularly loud voice as she ran around the home.

She was fully aware that Freya Familia was watching her and her familia from somewhere, even now. So Hestia went along with the memo and acted like a foolish goddess who had left something lying around.

Mikoto popped her head out of the kitchen to tell her, “Sir Welf is in the storage room on the first floor.”

With a quick thank-you, she headed in that direction.

The blacksmith was in the process of carrying several boxes.

“Welf! Can you lend me your key to the workshop?! I need to go in real quick!”

“Eh, you do…?”

“Oy, oy, what’s that unpleasant look on your face! What do you think I am?!”

“No, I was just a little worried about my smithing tools getting broken is all…What do you want in there anyway?”

“I lost my copy of a two hundred million valis loan! I think it might have gotten mixed up in the move and ended up in your workshop!”

“That sounds pretty bad…”

Hestia babbled on in a voice loud enough to be audible outside the home as Welf reluctantly winced and gave her the key with a firm “Don’t lose that, please.”

“Of course not,” Hestia responded with a hearty thumbs-up. “…What are you doing, by the way?”

“The truth is, I’ve been storing a bunch of stuff beneath the workshop, but it was getting a little bit tight, so I decided to organize a bit.”

He was carrying weapons and gear wrapped in cloth, along with armor stuffed in boxes, and even some magic blades. It was true that just leaving all that lying around would be concerning. Hestia then noticed that Welf was looking down at a piece of armor in his hands that was almost broken.

“Welf…?”

“…Lady Hestia…Do you remember why I made light armor?”

There was no one in the current Hestia Familia who favored light armor.

Hestia gasped at the presence of armor that Lilly, Mikoto, and Haruhime would never use.

“I can’t seem to remember who I made this for…but I can tell that I must have taken a lot of care in making it.”

Welf was staring at the armor even though he could not possibly know what was happening.

For a second, Hestia almost burst into tears. After the moment passed, she gave him her biggest smile.

“You don’t have to remember, just feel it. The bond you had with the adventurer who used that armor!”

With that, Hestia fled the storage room.

No matter how much Freya twisted things with her charm, people’s bonds with Bell still remained. With enough searching, many more would surely come to light. And within that realization, there was hope. Renewing her thoughts, Hestia hurried forward.

Reaching the workshop in the backyard, she unlocked the door and slipped inside.

With the door closed firmly, the room was dark. At first glance, it seemed empty, but…the door leading down into the underground was open. Hestia quietly descended the stairs and firmly closed the hatch. There—

“Apologies for calling you out here, Goddess Hestia. I wanted to be sure we met somewhere we could not be overheard.”

Asfi released her invisibility and appeared out of thin air.

“A-A-Asfiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

“Ghoh?! P-Please calm down. While we are underground, it’s still possible Freya Familia might notice us if we cause a disturbance…!”

Hestia was overwhelmed with emotion as she tackled Asfi. She remembered seeing those red pen strokes on a memo once before.

On the night of the Daedalus skirmish involving the Xenos, that same handwriting had filled the fake Daedalus Notebook that Hermes had prepared. Hestia only heard later that Asfi had been the one who was responsible for its creation.

She didn’t need any further confirmation that Asfi was not charmed. She felt bad for her carelessness, but she was still overwhelmed with emotion at having such a reassuring adventurer as one of her few allies.

“Thank goodness you were safe! It was so lonely and painful being all alone without any support all this time…!”

“I feel the same. I was right to trust that you would still be in your right mind.”

As comrades who were both on the outside of the sandbox, they could share in both the pain and the joy of finding an ally at last.

Even though Asfi was usually so cool and collected, she openly smiled like a child, as if relief was suffusing her whole being.

Hestia sniffled loudly and asked, “By the way, out of curiosity, how did you get in here? It was locked, right?”

“I’m Perseus.”

“Ah, right, of course.”

Asfi pushed her glasses up, and that was enough for Hestia to understand. In other words, she had picked the lock.

Hestia chose to prioritize going through all the stuff they needed to cover, when had Asfi returned, what had she been doing, all the information they had to share. Asfi had correctly guessed Freya’s intentions, and Hestia learned Freya Familia’s current status.

“Their movements have changed…?”

“Yes, to some extent. All that can be said is that baptism of theirs has intensified, but…it looked to me like they were growing impatient.”

“Impatient? Them? Why?”

“…Most likely because Bell Cranell is still refusing to succumb to her charm.”

Hestia’s eyes widened as Asfi struggled to put into words the impression she had gotten.

And then, she looked down at the tiny scrap of paper that she had held on to all this time—her one strand of hope.

“Has the time come…?”

I’m being worn down.

I’m getting ground down.

My body, my mind, my heart—they’re all falling apart under the intensity of the baptism.

I’m being pushed to my limits and far beyond, not down in the Dungeon, but aboveground. This situation is so extreme that even though I’m getting plenty of healing, nutrition, and sleep, it rivals that death march through the deep levels. The moment that realization dawns upon me, I vomit.

There’s one thing I’m forced to realize from my fights with the first-tier adventurers.

Each and every one of their moves is deadly.

With no hope of finding a way out from the valley of death, I have to carve my own bloody path.

If I don’t learn new tactics, I will die.

If I don’t become stronger with every drop of blood I lose, my life could end in an instant.

On top of that, even as I can feel my strength growing, I am constantly trampled by ever-greater tyrannical and incomprehensible power. And then I’m forced yet again to endure another absurd revival. It suddenly occurs to me that if death were possible for undying warriors, then it would be only in the destruction of their spirit.

It’s a form of doping.

The cost of such sudden, drastic growth was bound to come crashing down on me at some point.

And that point is now.

Regardless of how determined or single-minded I am, my will, my pride, and my spirit have been systematically eradicated. All that remains is the survival instinct that fears death. It’s unclear whether my spirit has already been broken, and I’m not sure if I’m standing on the edge of the cliff or in the depths of the ocean.

And more than anything, the devotion that has been my driving force seems to be losing meaning.

Where is that flower atop the mountain even blooming?

Am I climbing the wrong peak?

Does that flower really even exist?

I’m so tired and on the verge of losing something precious.

From the bottom of my heart, I want to run away.

But even if I escape, I don’t have anywhere else to call home. The people I met are no longer there.

That fact is the most painful. The most terrifying.

—In just over half a year, I am on the verge of becoming a first-tier adventurer, an einherjar in anyone’s eyes.

In the back of my mind, I remember the words of the woman I look up to like an older sister.

Einherjar.

That word has another meaning in the language of the deities.

It refers to dead warriors.

Fated to die beneath the sun, only to be revived again by the moon.

And in accordance with that, the things I cling to become simpler and simpler, until only one thing is left.

Until she is all that remains.

“Hey, Bell, why don’t you sleep with me tonight?”

“…Eh?”

Night has fallen and I’m back in the goddess’s chamber.

She is beautiful like always.

There is a sacred dignity about her, her silver hair tied back, wearing an elegant nightgown.

Meanwhile I’m exhausted to the bone like an old man.

My brain can barely function and what little of my rationality remains is desperately trying to avoid doing any discourteous.

“I won’t do anything to you. I promise…So why not sleep here tonight?”

…I suppose that’s fine.

If nothing’s going to happen, then I, who have no one to cling to other than her, have no reason to resist the temptation. She’s kinder than anyone I know.

I nod like a child and climb into her canopied bed.

I’m wrapped in a silk blanket.

At first, I stare up at the ceiling.

But soon her hand rests on my cheek, turning my head to the side.

Her face is lying there right before my eyes.

“Hey, Bell. Is there anything you want?”

“Anything I want…?”

“Yes. Wealth and honor, strength and legacy, the seat of the hero, even the world itself…or someone’s heart. Whatever you want, I promise I will get it and give it to you.”

“………”

“So is there anything you want?”

My answer…comes easily.

“Nothing…I don’t need anything.”

I’m scared she might accuse me of rejecting her kindness, but…she smiles.

“Yes, I had a feeling you would say that.”

“Eh?”

“It’s because this is who you are. That’s why I fell for you.”

Am I being tested?

I can’t tell.

But her eyes are kinder, softer than I have ever seen before as she whispers in my ear.

“I like you, Bell…I like you so much.”

Her outstretched arms embrace my head and hold me to her breast.

She feels so good and smells so nice—but more than anything, she’s warm.

So warm that I want to stay in that embrace forever.

…Isn’t this enough?

Can’t I just accept it?

Accept that the memories, the feelings, the encounters that I’ve been holding on to this whole time are all just a dream?

Couldn’t I be forgiven for wanting to be free from this nightmare?

She’s warm. So warm. I’m comfortable at her side.

Her fingers caress my hair like she’s soothing a child. I feel at peace. Her tender lips brush against my head and heal the wounds carved into my body and soul. The goddess’s cradle melts so many things away as it embraces me.

Is it really wrong to indulge in this love?

Haven’t I done enough?

…But.

……But.

………But—

If I forget her, if I forget this feeling that made me reject Syr, then I won’t remember why I hurt her.

No matter how much it hurts, and even if it’s all just fake, I know for a fact that I hurt her.

I made her cry.

If I forget the reason why…if I laugh it off as all just a dream…that would be unforgivable.

—I’m Bell Cranell, the absolute fool who can’t lie to himself.

No matter how sweet the salvation before me, unless I’ve already lost everything…I can’t reach out my hand and take it.

Wavering in the space between thoughts, my journey unending, I close my eyes.

As my consciousness fades, I suddenly realize something.

She—Lady Freya—has stopped saying she loves me.

That night I dreamed of sleeping in the embrace of a girl with blue-gray hair.

Unlike the past several days, the sky is clear today.

It’s painfully bright and blue for my tired eyes.

After spending a night in Lady Freya’s embrace, morning has arrived.

I wake up in her chamber, leave the bed that’s already empty, and go back to my room to clean up. When I open my door—a single elf is standing there.

“Master…?”

The morning sun is coloring the long white palatial corridor.

It’s so bright, I reflexively squint and put my hand up to shade my face, but I can’t help but still notice his coral eyes fixed on me.

“Are you neglecting the baptism to go out again today?”

“…Yes…”

As my eyes gradually adjust, I nod weakly.

My struggle continues as I use every single opportunity to go outside. Obviously to search for anything that would confirm me. But right now I’m only interested in the fate of one girl.

Syr.

While the world differs from my memories, she is the only one who has completely disappeared. I don’t want to accept that’s reality. I did not want to believe that she was just a figment of my imagination.

Even though I could just use whatever excuse to escape the battle and go outside to rest for a little while, I still fully intend to explore all around the city again.

“…Unsightly. Intolerable,” Master says while looking at me. “Don’t drag anyone else down in your quest for self-satisfaction. Go by yourself.”

“Eh? But…”

“If you get yourself cursed again, Lady Freya will be disappointed in you. It will simply mean that her love was too great for you to bear.”

Master has a look of disgust on his face, and he turns away as soon as he’s said his piece.

I can only stand there, but before I realize it, I call out to him.

“Master…Hedin…”

“………”

“Am I…crazy?”

Battle has already been joined on the field outside the window.

The roars of the warriors are ringing out beneath the blue sky.

My gaze falls, and I’m losing sight of myself as I ask him that question.

“Whether you would be a heretic or not is irrelevant.”

He stops, not turning around, but pausing for just a moment, he gives me an answer.

“Move forward. Standing still is what is unforgivable.”

Leaving behind those words, he walks away.

Looking up, my eyes are wide for several moments, but finally, I turn around and begin walking.

The boy’s presence was still plagued by doubt, but it gradually turned in the opposite direction.

Sensing that behind him, Hedin walked without hesitation to a certain place.

“Van. Remove Bell Cranell’s guard and observers.”

“Huh…? Wh-what do you mean, sir?”

He went to the back entrance of the home and delivered an order to the three-person party led by the half-prum.

“There are signs that Loki Familia’s expedition to the Deep Levels is returning. We’ve received a report from the spies watching the Dungeon.”

“…! Loki Familia is…?”

“Yes. Lady Riveria the Thousand Elf and the rest of their group are by no means a minor force. We must safeguard the sandbox.”

That one report was enough to cause their expressions to change dramatically.

Hedin calmly explained the situation and gave them new instructions.

“It would be possible to send Hörn directly herself, but there is no telling when an Irregular might occur in the Dungeon. We will take care of them with absolute certainty at Babel the moment they leave. Allen and the Gullivers are already en route. You are to join them as well.”

“Yes sir!”

“Take the lookouts currently stationed at The Benevolent Mistress and other key points with you. We will need more numbers than what the second tier can provide to ensure that none escape. I will set new lookouts myself.”

No one raised any questions about the order coming from the white elf who served as the familia’s strategist.

While acknowledging his understanding of the logical battle orders, Van finished with a question.

“What of Bell? It’s true that there is probably no need to strictly watch him anymore, but…”

Bell was already functionally a walking corpse.

No one in the familia doubted that.

It was clear as day that he would obey Freya’s divine will before long.

“That will not be a problem.”

Hedin’s answer was simple.

“I will observe him myself.”

Even though there is not a single cloud in the sky, it’s cold outside.

Autumn is drawing to a close, but today is particularly cold for the season. It’s almost like it were actually winter. Tonight the glow of fireplaces will probably join the city’s dazzling magic-stone lights.

I return my gaze back in front of me. I can’t see anyone on West Main Street dressed lightly. Even the occasional adventurer has warm clothes on. The members of the Guild walking around are probably carrying firewood to supply each district of the city.

“Look…it’s Rabbit Foot.”

“Freya Familia’s…!”

A murmur like birds chirping begins to swirl around me.

I’m already used to it.

The curious and awestruck gazes follow me as I walk around in Freya Familia’s uniform. The normal people living in the city and the merchants, none of them doubting that Bell Cranell is a member of the city’s strongest faction.

I’m tired of denying it and being hurt all over again, so I just bear it and proceed along Main Street while mostly looking down at the ground, my heart numb.

The building I’m headed for stands at the corner of a major intersection.

The Benevolent Mistress.

“Oh! He’s back, meow! Freya Familia’s white rabbit!”

“We told you, there isn’t any kid named Syr here. You really don’t know when to give up, do you?”

When I enter the tavern, Chloe and Runoa, who appear to greet new customers, grimace when they see me. I can’t remember anymore how many times I’ve come here.

“I know your scheme! You just created a fake girl and are pretending to go around looking for her as an excuse to get close to some other girls! That’s so sneaky and shady! You would have had a better shot seducing me with that nice butt of yours! Okay, come around to the back of the tavern meow!”

“What are you doing, you stupid cat?”

I can’t bring myself to smile at their familiar banter.

The look in their eyes when they glance over at me makes it painfully obviously that they think we’re strangers.

And I do not have the strength of will left right now to try to forge a new bond with them.

“If you’re not going to offer up your bottom to me, then shoo! Hurry up and beat it!”

“You don’t have any filter, do you…? I guess it’s true he’s interrupting business. If you don’t plan on buying anything, you mind heading out? We’ve got a ton of work since our elven coworker hasn’t come back. And Ahnya isn’t coming out to work right now, either…”

Their cold, businesslike words claw at my heart, and I’m worried about Lyu.

I have also been searching for a clue about what had happened to her, but they at least know who she is. Because of that, I end up focusing more on Syr’s whereabouts.

Trying to prove someone ever existed is more difficult than trying to track down someone who people still know and remember.

And Ahnya is apparently feeling unwell and not working today, too…

“What are ya chatterin’ about, you ijits! If y’all’ve got time for that, then get out and take care of the errands!”

““Eep?! R-right away!””

Suddenly an angry shout resounds through the tavern.

Chloe and Runoa jolt, turning pale as they run into the back of the tavern.

Dumbfounded, I look over to see Mia, the owner, standing behind the counter.

“………”

“…?”

Mia’s eyes silently dart around.

She’s glancing at me…no, outside?

It’s probably just my misunderstanding, but it seems like she’s being cautious of someone who might be watching. She quietly goes about her preparations for opening that evening.

There are no other customers, so Mia is the only other person inside the shop.

An odd moment passes between us.

“Kid.”

Mia has not said a single word to me since the Goddess Festival, but just when I can’t bear the silence anymore and start to leave the shop, she stops me with an awkward and apologetic expression on her face.

“Eh?”

“I have no intention of saying anything to the goddess. I swore not to get in the way when the time came.”

…?

What is she…?

“I’d love to roast the damned fools who laid their hands on those stupid girls, but…”

“Wh-what are you saying…?”

“I’m Freya Familia.”

“!”

I’m shocked by the sudden announcement.

“You know I’m half-retired from the familia, right?” Mia continues as I stare at her agitatedly. “In other words, not helpin’ out is my form of resistance, and what I’m about to tell you is outright rebellion.”

Saying that, she looks up, and looks right at me for the first time.

“‘Bein’ an adventurer ain’t about lookin’ cool.’”

My breath catches.

“‘The last one standin’ is top of the pack’s all there is.’”

My hands are trembling.

“So believe in yourself and stay standing.”

Ignoring my stunned reaction, Mia looks me in the eyes as she finishes her message.

“—Just keep on runnin’.”

It feels like the world I’m seeing suddenly changes shades.

I stand stock-still for several moments before somehow managing to get my lips to move and begin to ask a jumbled question.

“……M-Mia, that was…”

But before I can finish, her eyes flare and she shouts at me.

“Go on and git! I don’t have food to serve the likes of you!”

“Huh?!”

“I’m sayin’ an adventurer lookin’ so grim and depressed is gonna drive away my customers and hurt business! Git and don’t come back ’til you ain’t so tirin’ to look at!”

“I-I’m sorry?!”

I leave The Benevolent Mistress after being forcibly driven out.

I run without thinking, desperate to escape her terrifying shouts…and when I finally slow to a walk, my heart is hammering.

My breathing returns to normal, but my pulse is still racing.

I can’t get my head around it. Everything is still fuzzy.

What she told me…those words just now…

“Bein’ an adventurer ain’t about lookin’ cool. Just worry about not gettin’ yourself killed to start with.”

“The last one standin’ is the top of the pack. Pathetic or not’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

That was what Mia said to me…way back, at the very beginning of my time here, half a year ago…

Freya Familia’s Bell Cranell has no connection with Mia, though. There’s no mistaking that. Then why?

Is it just a coincidence?

Does Mia know I’m going through the baptism?

Was it just a bit of encouragement from someone who was part of the same familia?

Or…did it mean something else?

Keep standing, until the end…believe in myself and stay standing…?

What was Mia trying to tell me?

What was she trying to convey?

Should I go back and ask her? But I have a feeling she would not tell me anything else. Not until I look less grim.

Was she testing me?

No—was she trying to entrust something to me?

…But…even if she did mean something by it…

My body is already battered.

My mind is worn down.

I’m overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. What can I even do?

I remember everything leading up to today.

No one remembers me, no one knows me, and they all reject me.

I lost my home, my comrades are gone, and I just want to not be hurt anymore.

I’m just yielding everything to the goddess, so what can I even do—

“—All I can do is stand up.”

I can feel strength in my hands.

They curl into fists.

My knees that are on the verge of collapsing cry out.

My bruised and battered body that was racked by pain braces itself and reaches out to the flame still burning inside.

“All I can do is keep believing in myself! And stay standing—!”

Right.

I’m an adventurer.

No matter how miserable.

No matter how pathetic.

Just desperately cling to life.

“—All I can do is just keep running!”

I run.

The people around me are surprised and look at me like I’m a madman as I sprint through the crowds.

My back is burning from Mia’s push as I race through the city.

Logic can’t begin to explain what I’m feeling. I can hear a voice in the back of my head whispering that I’m just acting like a twitchy rabbit in a burst of sudden excitement. But even so, I’m not fighting the impulse driving me.

It’s a scary thing to keep believing in yourself. I know that. Before long, I start wanting to cling to what others say for support. Start wanting to accept the sweet words of the goddess and everyone else, to give myself over to them.

But I’m done running away.

I need to stop being scared of getting hurt.

After all, there is still one person I haven’t met yet!

“Hah, hah, haaah—!”

I keep running.

Swinging my arms, lifting my legs, no place in mind, just haphazardly pushing forward, but still believing in myself.

Even if I’m climbing the wrong mountain, that just means my journey to the peak isn’t over yet.

Envisioning the golden flower so far above me, the idol that has stolen my eyes and my heart.

I’m going to meet her.

“Ghhh—Aiz!”

I call out to the one I adore.

In the northern district of the city, a long manor comes into view. This is their territory, which I never attempted to approach before.

As I let my ragged breathing go unchecked, I see the girl with long, beautiful blond hair slowly turn in my direction.

“Huh? Isn’t that…?”

“Freya Familia. Why can’t you even remember that?”

“Oh, right! It’s what’s-his-foot, the guy that Loki and them said to be careful around!”

Aiz is with Tiona and Tione.

I run into them on just a normal street corner. There are lots of people around us. Tione and Tiona watch me suspiciously, while the girl I called out to looks surprised.

“Why is someone in Freya Familia calling Aiz, though?”

“What business do you have with us? Are you trying to start a fight or something?”

“Ghh…!”

Loki Familia and Freya Familia are rivals.

And Tiona’s and Tione’s eyes are filled with open hostility. They’re looking at Freya Familia’s Bell Cranell, like that has always been our relationship.

Against my will, my heart shudders.

What little sense I have is crying out.

This is a fork in the road.

If she rejects me. If she looks at me the same way Tione is on guard…if she doesn’t remember me, like Tiona, who doesn’t call me Argonaut like always…if she does that, the flame still burning in my back will most likely go out forever.

My already cracked heart will shatter completely, and I won’t be able to resist anymore when I feel the goddess’s affection.

Sweat runs down my back.

My heart feels like it might burst out of my chest.

I can’t get my tongue to move how I want.

My heart is wavering like never before as I meet her golden gaze.

“Aiz…do you know me?”

“………”

“Do you remember everything that happened before?!”

“………”

It’s a question I’ve asked so many times.

Everyone in Hestia Familia, the waitresses at The Benevolent Mistress, the orphans on Daedalus Street, multiple gods and goddesses—they all reacted with suspicion and rejected me. At some point, despair turned into resignation that threatened to freeze my throat and limbs.

But I shout it again, brushing off the despair and resignation one last time.

I lay my irreplaceable feelings out in the open as she watches me.

“What are you talking about? Get away. We’re not supposed to have anything to do with you guys.”

“Let’s go, Aiz.”

“Ah—”

The sisters who rejected me like everyone else move between me and my idol.

They get between us while trying to move past me.

My body won’t listen to me. I can’t extend my hand.

I can only manage a hoarse sound.

My legs are trembling, and my heart is thundering as I slump over.

There’s no hope.

The flame in my back starts to gutter as my despair grows, when—

As she passes, she takes my hand.

“ ”

I look up.

I stare at her with wide-open eyes.

Aiz stops and is gripping my hand firmly.

Her eyes are widened, too, like mirrors as her slender fingers squeeze my hand.

“A-Aiz?”

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Tione and Tiona are openly confused as time stops for the two of us.

Everything around me fades. She is all that is reflected in my eyes. I can’t bring myself to say anything.

Her lips tremble slightly.

“……D…”

And finally, she speaks.

“Do you want to train?”

“““Huh?”””

The sisters and I have the same reaction.

Our eyes narrow, and our jaws hang slack at the utterly out-of-nowhere question.

Ignoring our reaction, Aiz looks extraordinarily serious as she desperately tries to put her thoughts into words.

“I…I knocked you out so many times…”

“Ehh?”

“And then let you rest on my lap…”

“Wai—”

“And when you woke up, I knocked you out again…”

“A-Aiz?”

I, Tione, and Tiona all freeze, unable to string any words together as Aiz closes her eyes for a moment as if something is hurting her, and then she leans toward me.

“I feel like I have to fight with you on the city wall.”

“—!”

“I feel like I have to teach you and learn from you.”

It’s like she’s struggling to express the emotions in her heart.

It’s like she’s gathering the fragments of a dream that she can’t remember.

My golden idol answers my call.

“I feel like I made a promise with someone…who said they wanted to become strong…”

The feelings put into those words beneath the sunrise, after meeting the Xenos, after that struggle.

Bell Cranell swore that in front of Aiz Wallenstein. A promise and resolve.

That morning was why I started running again—

—Ahhhhhh.

My knees give out.

But it’s not a surrender to despair.

It’s hope, a feeling of release that I can’t restrain anymore.

“…!”

I drop to my knees on the ground, holding her right hand in both of mine and pressing it to my forehead as I tremble.

I can hear a gasp from above me. A swell of curiosity from the people around us. But I don’t mind.

My eyes are hidden behind my hair as tears fall to my knees.

It’s nothing so impressive as a knight swearing a vow to a princess.

But as I cry shamelessly like a child, I also renew my feelings toward the one I adore.

That is all.

“………”

“…Are…you okay?”

How long have I been in this state?

I desperately try to get my sobs and my trembling heart under control as I wipe my eyes and slowly stand back up.

Aiz is stunned.

She might not even know why she said what she did.

But that’s enough for me.

As Tione and Tiona watch in bewilderment, I look into her golden eyes and lay my feelings bare.

“I’m glad you’re the one I admire.”

My face is still wet from the tears as I smile from the very depths of my heart.

“It wasn’t wrong to meet you at all.”

Aiz gazes in wonder as her slender hand rests against her breast.

I smile one last time, and then let the white-hot determination that has erupted inside me lead me forward.

“I’m going now.”

With just those parting words, I start running.

I’m gone in a flash, leaving Aiz and the twins behind.

My body accelerates by leaps and bounds. I overtake person after person, becoming faster than anyone as the world rushes past me on either side.

The moment of my first cry.

The moment I let my feelings loose.

Together with the flame raging in my back again, I set out to confirm the miracle my idol has given me, to confirm the path I walk.

I’m running to the field of battle where a brave warrior awaits me.

—At that moment, it almost feels like a fairy who had been watching over me through it all looked away.

Smashing.

Crashing.

I target the rhomphaia trying to tear through me, slamming the baselard in my hand into it with all of my might.

Today is furiously heated, and I’m engaged in a fiery struggle, driven by the feelings roaring inside me.

“Hwah!”

Sparks fly from my slash, and there is surprise in Master’s eyes as our blades clash.

Folkvangr is lit by the sun in the west.

Having returned to the battlefield of dead warriors, I hurled myself into the swirling death match once more.

I’ve fallen dozens of times. The constant attacks have battered me and my endless wounds trouble the healers over and over. But even so, my will never broke.

Instead of just relying on survival instinct and a fear of death, I transform my vow to overcome this trial into kindling, and the flames of my spirit roar as I let loose a battle cry that reaches the heavens.

“Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

I slice upward with the knife in my right hand and unleash a horizontal slash with the baselard in my left.

They are both deflected by the rhomphaia being spun at high speed like a fan, but still I advance.

A thunderous clash of metal rings out. The rhythm of blades echoes across the fields. At some point, the refrain of attack and counterattack composed all around us fades, until only ours remains.

The other members of Freya Familia have stopped, standing still and lowering their weapons, completely focused on our fight.

Heith and the other healers forget their other tasks and fix their gaze on us.

Hegni, who was part of the clash until just a little bit ago, is also staring at us from a half step away.

I focus every bit of my attention on the opponent in front of me as countless sets of eyes follow my movements.

The rhomphaia thrusts toward me with a sharp whoosh.

I pull through by slamming it from the side with my knife.

My skin is just barely sliced by the blade as its path shifts by the tiniest of increments, and then I mount my counterattack, performing a rush that takes full advantage of my speed and number of attacks.

I use the techniques I stole from her through so much training and repetition!

Silver, silver, and silver again. Arcs of light carve through the air with each attack. The knife and baselard in my hands cross and change places as I continue my charge, all while Master blocks every blow as he watches me with silent shock.

In the midst of a series of slashes that might well be considered rash when my opponent is a first-tier adventurer, I unleash everything I gained from our training on the city wall in a single explosion.

Remember.

I remember!

I remember it all!

The Sword Princess’s technique of deflecting and parrying by striking the opponent’s weapon from the side at an angle!

The swordsmanship style I copied from Aiz in battle, which I studied in order to catch up to her even just a little bit more!

Her experience and history that Phryne saw in my fighting!

My body has not forgotten the things my idol taught me!

I’m not Freya Familia’s Bell Cranell at all!

No matter how the world might reject me, even if all the deities and people deny me, the techniques and skills engraved in my body reassure me.

My encounters with the Sword Princess and all the training on the city wall were reality. The lessons she taught me are still firmly rooted inside me.

And it’s not just her teachings, either.

Van mentioned it, too—my habit of letting my right arm float upward. It was none other than Lyu who endured hell with me in the Deep Levels who first pointed it out and suggested I try to correct it!

Why hadn’t I noticed it sooner?

Why had I mistaken what they taught me for my own strength?

How egotistical could I be?

I’m weak and can’t do anything by myself! I only managed to get where I am with the help of so many people!

I’m Hestia Familia’s Bell Cranell!!!

There is only ever one answer possible.

I trace the path I walked, confirming it, and use it to construct a solid, unshakable core for myself. All the battles I endured before, they are all reflected inside me.

Don’t be afraid. Don’t flinch away.

I’m done closing my eyes, plugging my ears, and averting my eyes from it!

I will prove what she taught me in this fight and reclaim who I am!

“Struggle for eternity, indestructible soldiers of lightning!”

I’m pushed back by a powerful swing of the rhomphaia, opening some distance between us, when Master begins casting, aiming to land an immediate strike.

“Caurus Hildr!”

Middle range. Abandoning the more optimal longer range for his magic, he unleashes a massive fusillade. The wide-area destruction magic mercilessly rains down toward me.

In response, I shout.

“Firebolt!”

Eight streaks of crimson lightning clash with the spray of white lightning.

I can’t hope to negate all the bolts crashing down on me like undying soldiers.

But I only need to cancel out a few of them.

I unleash several rounds of firebolts, one after the other, and they slam into some of the bolts of incoming lightning, canceling each other out.

It’s just the briefest moment. In that instant, my legs flash, and I twist myself through the small path forward I’ve wrenched open, my shoulders and thighs scorched as they skim past the lightning, and I break through the volley.

“!”

His coral eyes are wide. Instantaneously, not giving him time to prepare the next round, I unleash a full swing with my baselard.

The white elf easily deflects the strike that used all of my strength.

“Ghhh?!”

My baselard gets caught by his twisted rhomphaia and knocked skyward out of my hand with a metallic clang.

Not enough. I’ve expended an enormous amount of magical power and caught him off guard, but it’s still not enough to land a blow on a first-tier adventurer.

My body shudders from the force of his strike, revealing a decisive opening.

Seeing that, Master’s eyes flare, and his weapon flashes toward me.

My mind goes blank.

My whole body erupts in flame.

I only need one thing.

I break free from the flow of time as my soul roars and the memories engraved in my body activate.

Guards are lowest while delivering the final blow.

I hear her voice as I rush toward what lies beyond.

The moment you’re cornered—!

A spin.

Master’s eyes widen as he disappears from my view. I go with the momentum as my body spins in the air like a top. The thrusting rhomphaia grazes my back. It splits the skin on my back. But so what? As if tracing the movements she made in my memory, we change positions and I end up behind Hedin!

“—Is your best chance!”

I shout the lesson she taught me, unleashing a strike using the knife in my right hand that I held on to throughout it all.

“ ghhhh?!”

I pour everything into my knees, which are screaming at me, unleashing the fastest spinning slash I can.

An attack from beyond his field of view—but even so, Master manages to react in time.

Exhaling with a shudder, he twists his body, escaping out of range with his ultrafast reflexes.

It was unmistakably a slash with every bit of me poured into it. And it cut the air.

There is a thud as we both kick the ground, opening a significant distance between us. The baselard finally falls to the ground in the crimson setting sun, sticking out of the ground halfway between the two of us.

My breathing is uncontrollably ragged. My body is covered in wounds.

Meanwhile, Master is entirely unruffled, his expression calm and cool enough to make me despair as he watches in silence.

But.

As he stands with the setting sun at his back…he quietly wipes his cheek with a finger.

“…He wounded…Hedin…”

Hegni murmurs.

The moment they realize what happened, the rest of the familia becomes noisy.

Heith looks like she can’t believe what she is seeing. She looks back and forth between Master and me.

There is a single cut on his handsome features.

A new drop of crimson blood trickles down his white cheek.

That’s all it is. Just a single scratch.

But it reached him.

A strike imbued with everything I’ve learned and experienced, a strike that encompassed all of Bell Cranell has reached him.

I proved the teachings of the one I adore. I breathe heavily, my shoulders heaving as I clench my fist.

“………”

Master looks at the finger that he used to wipe the blood, and then slowly looks at me.

Meeting his gaze, I respond.

“Master…I’m me.”

Whatever anyone might think, whatever might come of it, I shout the feelings swelling in my breast.

“I’m Bell Cranell!”

My voice resounds.

The field immediately falls quiet. No one says anything. Forgetting what they saw, what they heard, everything, vacillating between reality and illusion.

Suddenly, the setting sun flickers.

The light of the setting sun burns my eyes, and for an instant, I squint.

And shrouded in that crimson light, his back still to the sun, for just a moment, it almost looks like Master’s lips curl into the slightest smile…

“What nonsense are you babbling about? Don’t get so uppity over a mere scratch.” “Ogfh?!”

“If you want to celebrate, at least save it for after you manage to dirty my clothes a bit.”

While I’m blinking away the sunlight, Master somehow teleports right in front of me before delivering a magnificent kick right to my stomach. I already used every last bit of energy I had left, so I can’t defend against it. All I can do is crumple and fall to the ground with a muffled grunt.

Master is the same as always…!

“I would like to crush you for getting cocky…but it’s sunset. Let’s go back.”

With that, Master turns his back and begins walking away.

As if a spell has been released, the rest of the familia members suddenly shudder and begin moving again.

They glance over at me before they head up the hill to the manor. Even Heith, who watched in silence. Even Hegni, who sheathed his sword without a word.

Lit by the fading red twilight, the shadows of the warriors extend out into the sea of green.

The scene that felt so hopelessly sorrowful the first time I saw it now has a different feeling.

As I plant my hand on the ground to push myself up, between the fingers of my hands, the white flowers of the field still sway stubbornly.

Red light filtered through the window.

The setting sun lit the face of the silent god.

“Lord Hermes, please just do your work already…How much paperwork are you planning to let pile up?”

“…Hm, ah, apologies.”

Hermes finally responded vacantly to the voice of one of his followers, the war tiger Falgar.

The room was plastered with countless land and sea maps, making it look like the home of a serial traveler—his chamber in Hermes Familia’s home.

Hermes was sitting in his chair in front of a mountain of paperwork that Falgar had constructed on a desk that was already cluttered with chess pieces, a sand clock, and all sorts of other items.

“If you keep on slacking off like this, it’s seriously going to be a problem…What are you going to do about all this?”

“Lord Hermessss, I’m begging you, please get it together.”

Falgar looked weary and exhausted, and behind him the chienthrope Lulune kicked open the door as she brought in another armful of papers to be dealt with.

Hermes Familia served as couriers and information merchants while also supporting travelers and handling business propositions from various merchants while also exploring the Dungeon. Essentially covering every sort of project. Because of that, they received documents regarding progress reports, contracts, and every sort of paperwork imaginable from all sorts of directions, at times creating a level of office work that made even members of the Guild blanche.

“And Asfi’s out now, too.”

“More precisely, she’s gone missing…the number of falna responses hasn’t gone down, so I’m sure she’s safe, but where in the world did she go?”

Hermes was naturally inclined to putting off work, but this time was far worse than usual, and work had stalled completely.

It was almost entirely due to the fact that the familia’s capable leader, who usually handled the paperwork while complaining the entire time, was currently absent.

Lulune and Falgar were lamenting the mountain of paperwork that just kept growing even with them helping out, too, realizing again just how great Asfi really was.

“And we were given the job of delivering the firewood this year, too…I wonder why the Guild didn’t just leave it to Ganesha Familia like always.”

Lulune grumbled as she slumped down in the nearest chair.

Hermes intertwined his fingers as he listened, and questioned himself.

—Huh, am I in a loop?

It was an absurd question, but his expression was deadly serious, and a cold sweat formed on the back of his neck.

How long? When did the days that seemed normal turn into something abnormal?

Hermes noticed it.

Even while being twisted by some outside power, he realized that it was incredibly likely that the days they were living through were abnormal, off in some fatal way that he could not perceive.

While everyone else living in Orario, adventurers and deities alike, failed to notice, he alone was closing in on the truth.

I have some evidence. Slight twists hiding in the shadow of the normal day-to-day. More specifically, there is something that does not match up between what I did during the past half year and how I acted before that…

It not was something Loki or Hephaistos could notice. Because he so regularly left the city on trips, he alone could realize it.

There is no way I just stayed in one place for so long without going out on one of my trips. Yet I’ve been here for the past half year—no, the past four months…

The reason my travels stopped is probably because something was tying me down here to the city. So what could it be?

—I don’t know. It’s not that I can’t remember, I literally can’t recognize it.

Hermes inhaled sharply as his thoughts progressed.

It was the first time he could observe the unnatural reality from an outside observer’s perspective, that some external factor was affecting him.

He was unable to recognize reality, as if some limit had been placed on him.

The most conclusive point is this letter that I received…

Opening the drawer on the right side of his desk, he pulled out a letter.

His hand shook as he stared at it. There was no sender or return address on it.

“Stiiiiill no update?”

When he first saw the message accompanied by a scribbled picture that had been delivered to him, before he could even be annoyed, Hermes was shocked.

—Did I slack off while contacting Zeus?

It was a matter that Hermes had conducted with regularity.

Hermes maintained contact with a certain great god who was no longer in the city.

Always careful not to let anyone suspect, occasionally going himself, that was Hermes’s job as the god of messengers and something he did out of respect for the old bond he shared with that great god. A secret between just the two of them that no others knew of.

And Hermes had neglected it for more than three months.

No, it was difficult to believe that he had actually just neglected it.

He could not explain it, and it was nothing more than supposition, but he believed it was likely that he had not had time to make contact.

And the reason for that was a turbulent span of three months.

There was no other explanation for why the shrewd god of messengers would cease communication.

The problem is that those turbulent three months are nowhere to be found in my memories or in any of the city’s records. It’s a stretch, but I could at least chalk up all of the city’s records not mentioning anything after being deliberately altered. But what about my memories? The only explanation is that they were manipulated at some point without my noticing.

The turbulent three months—he could not remember the Xenos incident, dealing with Knossos, and all the cleanup required for such massive events. Because they all involved a certain someone, he was unable to acknowledge them.

The divergence caused by the barrier between conscious and unconscious forced the god to notice the contradiction.

And most likely…I’m experiencing a loop of some sort in my thoughts!

There was a stack of parchment for memos held by a pin on Hermes’s desk.

It had shrunken drastically. Dozens of them had been torn off.

All told, seventy-seven had been used.

There were charred fragments of parchment left around the torch, proof that they had been disposed of.

Of course, Hermes didn’t remember doing it. He had asked Falgar and the others, but they all insisted they had not touched anything of his, and none of them were lying.

The only person who had gotten rid of them could only be himself.

He had burned the memos.

He had written something desperately and then promptly disposed of it himself. The only explanation was—

For the sake of convenience, I’ll call it old me—old me had the same sense of something being off as current me. And he wrote a memo in order to leave a note about it—but that infringed on some rule. And then old me lost consciousness and disposed of that memo…!

That leap of logic was imbued with a divine certainty.

There was some sort of trigger, and the moment he engaged with it, Hermes would forget everything and erase all traces of it himself before resetting his thoughts.

And that reset triggered by a sense of something being off had occurred at least seventy-seven times.

The moment he happened upon that hypothesis, Hermes felt an uneasy chill.

To be able to do something like that in a way that we deities don’t notice, making sure that no one senses anything…!

Falgar and Lulune looked at Hermes as his lips twisted at the realization that even deities were being turned into puppets.

“Hey, Falgar, did I ask you to give me a message three days ago?”

“…That again, Lord Hermes? How often are you going to do this? How many days has it been already?”

“Now now, it’s just a bit of game for the gods…Anyway, what did I tell you?”

“Haaah…‘loop,’ ‘reset,’ ‘not just me,’ ‘Lulune next.’ Just that incomprehensible string of words.”

Falgar sighed as he responded. Hermes’s mouth clamped shut as he slipped back into deep thought.

Most likely, the old Hermes had also recognized that his memos were being destroyed and changed methods when he realized that writing things down would not work. And that new method was leaving messages for himself through his followers.

Most likely they are being twisted just like I am…but by passing along messages like this without feeling anything suspicious about the current situation means they’re not infringing on any hard rule.

First was Falgar, then Lulune, and then Merrill…the old Hermes had feared his followers’ thoughts being reset, so he had not left too much with any one person, and limited his message to only fragmentary thoughts, explaining it to them half-jokingly as just a message passing game played by gods to pass the time.

And linking together all that information—

A loop in thoughts, reset, and it’s not just happening to me. The world is twisted. An overwhelming coercion. No one remembers. An inability to recognize certain information. Or else misrecognition…

Hermes shuddered.

How many past Hermeses had fallen in order to pass that information safely onto the next Hermes? It made him want to praise his past selves who had uncovered so much of the rules twisting the world already. It was enough to earn a snarky smile at his own tear-jerking dedication and devotion.

What is clear from the fact that I’m thinking about this right now is that my thoughts and words are not being restrained currently. But based on the old Hermeses’ information, there is one or several absolute rules. And if I violate any rule, I will immediately lose my memory and repeat the cycle…

For everything else that he was, Hermes was still a god.

Even while being violated by a powerful magic, to be able to get that close to the truth without relying on other people or even trusting himself entirely. He was undeniably one of the shrewdest deusdea.

Most likely it’s safe up to the point of something feeling off. But outright suspicion probably crosses the line. The moment that various odd feelings add up to something that might endanger this scenario, everyone…or at least everyone in Orario…unconsciously transforms into puppets. And on top of that, trying to actively figure out who created this situation is probably taboo, too.

Deities were omniscient. It was possible to make predictions based on what was happening, but it was crucial that he not probe past a certain point.

He policed his thoughts in a way that no mortal could begin to emulate, achieving a literally godlike discipline, while also being careful to avoid any unwanted leaps of imagination.

Constantly wondering at what point he might be forcibly turned into a puppet again, Hermes left a tiny update of information with Thane, who eyed his god in exasperation. He assumed Hermes was just playing around again.

Still, though, being able to twist even deities, and without using arcanum at that. The only thing that could do that is some really crazy wine, or else her—ah, crap.

Thus Hermes met his two hundred and thirty-third reset.

And so Hermes’s thoughts went through the same loop over the course of another day.

In the same manner, by the same process—thanks to the clues provided by the past versions of Hermes, it went faster than the first time—he noticed the oddity in the world, and Falgar and the others were reaching their limit at being forced to play a fruitless message-passing game yet again. It was humiliating having to endure all of that.

Unable to bear it, Hermes left home alone, without any guard.

“Come on now, I’m Hermes, right? Always aloof and above it all, the ultimate trickster and all-around cool guy who always gets things done with a snap…Why do I have to struggle so hard?…It’s like I’m turning into Takemikazuchi or Asfi…”

Rudely referring to a certain god of war and his follower without any hesitation, Hermes sighed.

He was struck by an overwhelming urge to vent on Takemikazuchi or another deity like him, but he stopped himself. If he went too far and ticked off that god of war, skinny Hermes would be the one who would end up getting tossed around.

Coincidentally, the time was evening, around the same time as he had realized the situation last night, too. The street was peaceful beneath the western sun, crowded with villagers and adventurers returning from the Dungeon.

…Hypothetically, if I suppose this situation is a sandbox…Based on the factors that cause a mental correction, the mastermind behind it wants to maintain peace and order in this world.

It was unclear whether it was intended to be for a limited time or indefinite.

But there was no intention to savage the mortal realm by turning all beings into mindless puppets. The fact that Hermes and the others maintained their free will was proof of that.

Maintaining Orario as an unchanged city of heroes…The most likely reason for such a circuitous tack is because the mastermind had no choice but to twist the world for the sake of something or someone that could not be bent. To create a paradise and a prison for someone. That is the true nature of this sandbox.

And the moment he thought of some opening to possibly break out of the sandbox, his thoughts would be reset.

It was no good. He was blocked off in all directions.

The conclusion Hermes came to was that even if he could guess at the outline of the sandbox, as long as he could not understand the precise rules and core of it, he could not plot any way to break free.

An inescapable mental game. Hermes had been in checkmate long ago. From the moment he had fallen prey to it, there was nothing he could do and no way for him to break free. It was all just pointless struggle from the start.

I need some sort of plan. Some external guide that I can just follow without thinking.

Because of that, the only thing he could do was hope for some external help from someone else out there who was still struggling. Someone who had not quite been checkmated yet.

Hermes was currently incapable of doing anything under his own direction.

The moment he plotted anything himself, it was highly likely he would break one of the rules.

Because of that deadlock, he needed something external to break through.

He had no choice but to entrust himself to someone else’s plan in a way that did not raise any suspicions of outside influence, did not cause anything unnatural, and did not break from the normal day-to-day.

While knowing that that thought itself was only just barely this side of safe, Hermes took off his hat.

“I’m begging you, first me…You were Hermes, after all, so you must have some trump card prepared, right…?”

Hidden in the brim of the hat was a fragment of torn scroll.

A bit of parchment that had traces of a piece being torn off in one place.

That along with the letter from the good-natured old man had been the trigger for Hermes’s noticing something off. At first glance, it was just a fragment of paper, but there was meaning in hiding it in his hat. Noticing that, Hermes began to reflect on his past self’s actions.

It was just a meaningless fragment of paper that Hermes had not attempted to destroy even when he became a mere puppet.

Most likely the first Hermes, the Hermes before he had been checkmated, had written something.

And he had entrusted it to someone.

Hermes could only cling to that supposition and hope it was true.

Aside from the fact that I have not gone on a trip, the other factor that is different from usual…is Asfi being gone. Then is Asfi the key…?

Hermes was terribly disappointed in himself for having to rely on such tenuous information despite being an all-knowing god. He scanned his surroundings.

It was Main Street at twilight. Lively and crowded.

There were no suspicious shadows. And he wouldn’t really be able to say who might be suspicious anyway.

He did not want to believe that he was being watched, but he could not allow anyone to suspect that he felt something off about the sandbox.

At the same time, though, he had to make it clear to Asfi, who held the key, that he was feeling something off about it. If he did not do that, then she would not make contact with him.

It was a difficult conundrum. Suffering a painful headache, Hermes stopped in the middle of the street.

Was Asfi watching him? Was she beside him? The odds were low, but he had no choice except to try.

Looking up at the red sky, his eyes narrowed, and he spoke.

“Asfi…I love you.”

It was not a loud voice. Just a whisper.

“So please…come back to me.”

Dubious gazes started to center on him for stopping in the middle of the street.

Some beast people glanced over at him, doubting their ears after they picked up the murmur.

It was something he would one hundred percent, absolutely never in a million years say.

Hermes concluded that there was no other way for him to contact Asfi without anyone else noticing. From the outside, he looked obsessed, and more than a little bit narcissistic, too, but so be it.

Hermes earnestly, honestly revealed a feeling in his heart that he would otherwise never show.

If there was no response, he would just move to another corner of the city and whisper sweet words of love again.

He would continue singing of his love for his follower.

If it came to it, he would persist through to the very end.

Hermes was growing desperate as he prepared to head to another Main Street.

“—North Street, Jyaga Maru Kun stall.”

“!!!”

An invisible someone slipped past him and whispered something in his ear.

The voice blended in with the everyday sounds of the milling crowd. If anyone heard it, it would only be a meaningless fragment of a message.

Hermes’s eyes widened, and he was immediately struck by the urge to turn around, but he stopped himself.

Even if he did turn, she was still invisible. He could not meet her. So he put a smile on his lips and headed in the direction he had been told.

In his heart—

Thank you, Asfi.

And you know I was telling the truth when I said I love you, right?

And as he sped along his way, he felt like he heard a murmur.

“Argh…you’re the worst.

“Hurry up and return to normal…you hopeless god.”

Hermes’s cheeks softened as he imagined her face red through and through as she glared tearfully at him.

“Oh, Hermes! Great timing! I’m begging you, buy some Jyaga Maru Kuns from me!”

Reaching the spot, he was greeted by a lively voice.

Hestia was in uniform, her massive breasts swaying like always as she worked in a rush.

“For reasons, I slacked off too much on my job and I’m in trouble! I’m gonna be fired if I don’t sell enough!”

“Ha-ha, I dunno what all that’s about, but good luck. It takes a long time to get back into society after losing your job. For old times’ sake, I suppose I could buy one. What would you recommend?”

“Then make it this! The hyper-ultra-jumbo Jyaga Maru Kun deluxe! It costs a hundred times more than the regular Jyaga Maru Kun, but just buy it as a favor for me! Please, please, please buy it!”

“O-okay…”

Hermes’s eyes were bloodshot as he reflexively took the golden, crispy Jyaga Maru Kun that Hestia held out for him.

Genuinely speechless at the totally exhausted figure that did not look remotely like an act, he paid a hundred times the usual price in gold coins (3,000 valis). Saying good-bye to Hestia, he started to help himself to the snack that was five hands long as he walked the streets, and after significant struggle, he managed to finish all of it—before slipping into a dark alley.

Leaning against the wall, he examined the wrapper, unwinding the several of them that had been used since it had been so large. And inside the oily paper, what appeared was—a torn fragment of a scroll.

Hermes broke into a smile as he read it.

“Turn Orario into a hearth.”

It was unmistakably his own handwriting.

The first Hermes had fallen, but he had left behind a plan that would lead them back from the brink.

“Yeah, yeah, this is more like me.”

Reassuming the cool, shrewd trickster’s expression, he quickly began walking again.

There had been two pieces of paper.

The first was the letter to himself that the first Hermes had entrusted to Hestia.

And the second was the location of the materials needed for the construction of the hearth.

He could stop thinking. There was nothing else to worry about. He could just carry out his job in a way that would not infringe on any rules.

“Let’s make a hearth.”

It was three days after Perseus noticed the change in the Freya Familia’s baptism—and three days before the boy managed to land a blow on the elven warrior.

The moon has driven away the clouds, filling the night sky with a pale light.

The air is biting cold, but it’s clearer than ever.

Just like my heart.

I indulge in a brief poetic thought as I sit in a chair at the window.

The fog that shrouded my mind and all the uncertainty is gone. I have no more doubt that I’m Hestia Familia’s Bell Cranell.

My whole body is filled with feelings toward my idol, and I’m consumed by a sense of exaltation.

“But…what do I do now…?”

I munch on a premade meal from the pouch of my Dungeon kit as I furrow my brow.

Just an hour ago, I refused dinner in Sessrúmnir after finishing the battle that night and headed straight back to the room I’ve been using for over two weeks now. I tried to lie and say that my body is not feeling well after exerting myself so much today, but Master saw through it. He just called me a fool while allowing it, though…He did actually forgive me, right?

A-anyway, under normal circumstances, this is right about the time when I would be leaving Sessrúmnir after dinner and start heading toward Lady Freya’s chambers.

I wanted some time to figure out a plan in order to avoid doing that.

“If I meet Lady Freya now…she would definitely see through me. She’ll realize I’m not swimming in doubt anymore.”

Children can’t lie before deities. She would surely see through my current thoughts.

And I have no clue what she would do when she realized that I was certain I was not a member of Freya Familia. But at the very least things surely would not change for the better for me.

And in the first place, what even is the current situation?

However much I might be sure of myself, as far as the world is concerned, I am still Freya Familia’s Bell Cranell, and it’s not like Aiz or anyone else actually remembers the Hestia Familia Bell.

“Is Lady Freya…the reason why Orario is so strange?”

…Has her charm really created this world?

It seems unbelievable, but I don’t have any other explanation I can think of. And I can’t believe anyone other than a deity could manage such a feat.

And if my guess is correct, then deities really are far beyond the comprehension of us mortals. To change not just a person, but the entire world…

I shudder at an act so far removed from logic.

“If this really is something that Lady Freya has done, then…why would she do this…?”

It couldn’t just be to have me join Freya Familia, could it? If it was, then why not just charm me along with everyone else? Was there something that prevented that? Or some prerequisite?

…No good, I have no idea.

In the first place, there is no way a mere mortal like me could begin to understand the divine will of a goddess like her.

For the moment, I set aside my questions about Lady Freya.

What I have to figure out is how to behave myself after this…what should I do?

I can’t meet Lady Freya. I still have no idea what sort of expression I should have when I meet her.

And before the question of how to interact with her even came up, there would probably be others who felt something off about me from the battle today. Like Hegni or Heith. As for Master…I don’t really know what he’s thinking.

I probably should have just confirmed the techniques I learned from Aiz and Lyu in a way where no one would notice, or else try to say there was no way I could pull off such an absurd imitation against a first-tier adventurer, but I was still high on the feeling of renewing my feelings toward my idol.

If Lilly could see me now, I’m sure she would have a harsh lecture for me.

Welf and Mikoto and Haruhime would all smile awkwardly as the goddess watched us…

“…Goddess…everyone…”

Looking out the window, I think of my true familia.

The days I spent with Freya Familia were painful and harsh, but they were not only painful and harsh. There were moments when I was saved, and I felt warmth from such mysterious bonds. But still…this is not my home.

Slapping my cheeks painfully hard with both hands, I wipe away the sentimentality creeping into my thoughts.

I do not have time.

It’s possible that Hegni or someone else is reporting my current state to Lady Freya right now.

Should I just try to run away? But what would I even do, then?

Even if for the sake of argument I managed to escape Freya Familia, the city’s biggest familia, and got out of Folkvangr, the world is still not right. I would not have anywhere to return to without fixing that first.

I gulp down the last of the packaged meal, replenishing much-needed nutrients.

I can feel blood circulating in my body and my head as I desperately try to think of something—when a thought suddenly pops up.

“What about Syr…? If this world is a lie, then where is Syr right now…?”

Chloe and the others do not remember Syr.

Everyone in Freya Familia says there is no Syr, too.

But I know that she existed.

It isn’t a simple contradiction. She vanished entirely. My suspicions focus on that point. My instinct is ringing.

It feels like she is the key to understanding what is happening in some way.

So what I need to do is to search for Syr…to find her?

“Lyu disappearing is weird, too…! If I can find the two of them…!”

Deciding clearly what I need to do, I jump to my feet.

Just when I resolve to start moving…

There’s a thundering sound, as if in sync with me and my defiant stand.

“Wh-?!”

A massive tremor shakes the building.

Dumbfounded, I immediately steady myself against the shock. I know I decided to act, but I haven’t even done anything yet!

I frantically open my window and look all around the estate.

I’m afraid there is some kind of attack happening, but all I see is a part of the first floor belching smoke and dust along with the glimmering remnants of magic.

“Bell! Bell! Are you there?!”

“…! Y-yes!”

There is a furious pounding on my door, and the familiar healer’s voice rings out.

After a brief moment’s indecision, I respond honestly.

“Thank goodness you’re here…! You haven’t left the room, right?!”

Opening the door, as expected, I see Heith standing there.

She has a couple other members of the familia in tow, and she looks more intense than I have ever seen her before. She looks obviously relieved when she sees me.

“I’ve been here the whole time, but…what is happening?! There was a really loud noise just now…!”

I’m a little bit suspicious of the question as I respond.

From outside my room, no, from somewhere inside the home, I can hear the shrill clang of blades clashing.

“…An intruder. Some individual has invaded our sacred Folkvangr.”

Heith is silent for a moment before responding.

I freeze in place, forgetting the situation and responding in a hysterical voice.

“A-an intruder?! A single person?! Taking on Freya Familia?!”

Crisp slashes closed in.

Lyu was sweating. She used her sword to knock aside blades that hit harder than her own.

“Ugh?!”

“Haah!”

And then she unleashed a sharp kick to the beast person whose stance had faltered from having his longsword knocked upward.

She didn’t stick around to watch as her opponent’s back slammed into the wall, instead turning and running. She heard the thundering shouts of “Found her!” “Catch her!” from the reinforcements already swarming behind her.

The location was the first floor of the enormous palatial manor. Lyu was trying to escape by herself.

Trying to escape from the worst imaginable pursuers: Freya Familia.

“This really is Folkvangr…! Freya Familia’s home!”

Running with all her might, Lyu attempted to confirm the situation as best she could, even as beads of sweat continued to form.

It had already been a week since she’d woken up in an unknown underground room. She had passed out in front of Syr—Freya—and she guessed she had been carried away at some point after, but there was no end to her worries. It would not be hyperbole to say that, save the Dungeon, there was no place in Orario more dangerous than where she was.

“Hiyah!”

“Khh?!”

Immediately as she entered a wide corridor, a human leaped from a higher floor, slicing down at her.

In the split second when her legs were numbed from blocking one strike, another person mercilessly took advantage of that opening, attacking with a sharpness and swiftness that forced Lyu to respond with her full strength.

—Her opponents here were all strong!

It was simple, but that was the whole of her impression.

She was in the fortress of the city’s largest faction. There was not a single weak person among them, and the warriors slashing at her right at that moment were the match for any second-tier adventurer. Each individual’s level of training was incomparable. She had only just escaped her prison, but they had already noticed and were quick to force her into a precarious position. Even the lower-tier adventurers understood their place and were harassing her with magic to slow her down. She had to resort to every last trick she could muster, and she had even been forced to use her magic once, which completely revealed her position.

Fortunately, the inside of the manor was still in a confused panic and the enemy was not coordinating perfectly, but that did little to change the fact that she was stuck inside a cage filled with ferocious beasts. As a reward for clashing with an elf lancer who seemed to be a Level 4 like her, her clothes were torn slightly in exchange for cutting through the spear’s haft.

“Fellow, no, Gale Wind! How did you escape the underground?!”

The other elf was agitated, and it showed in her intense tone. The question made Lyu remember the encounter from just a few minutes before.

She had been in a room underground that could not really be called a jail cell. She had not been wanting for clothing, food, or shelter.

However, she could not escape due to the cursed manacles on her wrists that weakened her and sealed away her magic.

As Lyu had grown more and more concerned, unable to do anything, a certain elf had appeared before her.

“Leave.”

She had somehow incapacitated the upper-tier adventurers who were always guarding the door and entered before dropping Lyu’s Futaba and the key to her restraints.

“My condition for releasing you is that I want you to cause as much of a commotion as you can in the eastern half of the manor while I act.”

Lyu had been on guard against the girl who made such a straightforward demand while keeping her distance and not allowing her true intent to show in her eyes.

Lyu had glared back defiantly, demanding to know what she was thinking, what she was plotting, and did she really think Lyu would just listen to her?

“Please, Lyu.”

But those two words, the way she said them, her gaze…they moved Lyu’s heart.

Even though her face and voice did not match, she resembled a certain girl.

The girl left the room, with the elf still dumbstruck behind her. Unable to say anything, Lyu had taken the key in her hand, unlocked the restraints, and begun fighting.

I don’t understand it, either. Why did I do exactly what some stranger wanted without even understanding her real intent? But those words and that gaze were—

Clenching the hilt of her sword tightly, Lyu’s eyes flared.

She parried the stunned elf lancer’s attack and finished spinning the cast that she had been murmuring softly.

“Imbue the light of stardust and strike down my enemy—Luminous Wind!”

The blast she had been preparing while fighting knocked aside all the reinforcements that had been gathering, causing a second explosion that rocked the manor.

“An explosion in the home?!”

The first floor beneath Babel.

Allen, who had been waiting for Loki Familia to return from their expedition in the chamber that connected to the Dungeon’s first floor, exploded menacingly when he heard the report.

“What are you talking about? What are the boar and elves doing?!”

“A-about that…it appears to be magic set off inside the home and not an external attack…!”

Cowering at Allen’s dangerous tone, the member who had sensed the uproar at the home lowered his voice while offering his analysis.

Allen scoffed, concluding that they knew nothing important, as the four prums who were also present responded.

“The battle on the field should be long finished by now.”

“There is no one in our familia so fool enough to trouble the goddess’s ears with accidental magic.”

“Which would mean the work of outsiders.”

“Could it be…Gale Wind?”

Allen’s eyes narrowed sharply as Alfrik and his brothers reached a hypothesis through near telepathy.

“A-Allen! Alfrik!”

The half-prum Van came running over at that same moment.

Allen ratcheted his head into high gear as he brushed off Van, telling him to get lost and save it for later, but—

“She…just disappeared!”

When Allen heard that, his eyes darkened.

“…I should have just killed her…”

Van and the rest of the familia members gasped and recoiled from the bubbling wrath welling up from the cat person.

“What’s the plan, Allen?”

Alfrik, for the sake of appearances, asked the second-in-command of the familia who was in charge of the operation there.

“As if you need to ask. We’re going back.”

“Something happening at Freya Familia’s home?”

Aisha looked suspicious.

She stopped on a corner of a major street where tipsy bar goers were enjoying themselves, near Daedalus Street in the east of the city.

“Yeah. Thane and the others near the shopping district got wind of it, apparently. There are still sounds of fighting from inside the walls, according to Merrill’s report.”

“What’s that about? They stop their death matches come sunset, right? Does that mean some other familia picked a fight with them?”

“No clue. But we can’t just ignore it…”

Falgar looked troubled.

For better or worse, there was a lot of weight that accompanied being the city’s greatest faction. If something suddenly happened in their home, all sorts of other familias and the like would start wondering about it and getting nervous. All the more so for a group like Hermes Familia that maintained neutrality and always had their ear to the ground for information.

The Amazon looked troubled, as if something was bothering her, even though she didn’t remember anything that happened during the Goddess Festival.

“I’m sure it’ll just end up being their death match going a little bit longer than usual, is all. More importantly, let’s get this firewood delivery job done already.”

Lulune did not bother paying any attention to Falgar and Aisha’s conversation. The chienthrope girl was holding on to a bundle of firewood as she dexterously shrugged and knocked on the door of a family’s home.

“We’re with Hermes Familia. The Guild asked us to deliver firewood.”

“Ohh, thank you! It’s already feeling like winter. You’re lifesavers.”

“Sure thing. We’ll be coming in if you don’t mind.”

“Eh? Wh-what?”

Lulune slipped past the woman who had met them at the door and bent over in front of the fireplace in the house.

“Sorry, our patron god told us to be sure to start the fire before coming back.”

Quickly arranging the kindling, she started a fire with practiced ease, using a flint starter, and the fireplace was filled with crackling flame in the blink of an eye.

The couple and their daughter were pleased with the refreshing display of skill and extended a tempting offer of dinner as thanks, but Lulune restrained herself and excused herself with a tired, “Unfortunately, we still have more work to do.”

“Haaah, how many more of these volunteering gigs do we have left…I mean it’s definitely cold tonight, but still…”

“You took the words out of my mouth. Sheesh, since when did Hermes Familia do such obvious brownnosing?”

“I mean, we don’t usually, but…”

Magic-stone warmers were expensive, so most of the residents of Orario endured the winter cold using normal stoves and fireplaces. But still, what was Hermes thinking, giving them a map of houses to deliver firewood to and calling it all volunteer work? Every member of the familia had been brought in to help with it even. Lulune and Aisha both had been confused by all the fuss, and the familia’s second-in-command, Falgar, shook his head while holding an identical bundle of firewood over his shoulder.

“And also…this wood kinda smells a bit like blood…”

Lulune held up the bundle she was carrying and sniffed it.

“You think we’re passing out logs that were used to pummel someone to death?”

“Save the stupid observations and let’s get moving already. Lord Hermes specifically said we had to get this over before midnight.”

“Ah, wait up!”

Lulune quickly rushed to catch up with Aisha and Falgar, who had left her behind in exasperation.

Hermes Familia delivered the firewood to residence after residence, starting the fire everywhere they stopped.

Without anyone noticing, the city began to fill with hearth fires.

Boom!

Another tremor shakes the mansion as I catch myself against the wall.

“Ugh…?! A-again…?!”

Heith did not quite catch herself and stumbles into my chest, managing to head-butt me in the process. I cough as I pull her off me.

“It seems like something really crazy is happening. Is this really okay?!”

“U-umm…!”

“It sort of seems like a lot more than just a single rebel breaking in. If anything, it seems like a pretty big—”

“—Argh! Look, it’s not like I freakin’ know, either; this is just happening out of nowhere all of a sudden! I’d like some explanations, too!”

Heith rubs her forehead as her face turns red, and she swings her hands up in the air in frustration.

I’m a little bit taller than her, but I can’t help recoiling apologetically and reflexively mumbling a hasty “I-I’m sorry.”

“Bell, no matter what, please don’t leave this room!”

“Eh?! …B-but!”

“You’re special to Lady Freya, so if anything happens to you, I’m going to get a massive earful! Just think of it as helping me out, and please just stay here! Okay?! I’ll leave guards here for you, too!”

Heith leaves the room without letting me get a word in edgewise.

Like she promised, a couple of older familia members, one male and one female, come in as she leaves.

“Bell, listen to what Heith said, okay? I know she’s being a bit overprotective, but she‘s also taken a bit of a liking to you, too.”

“And also, there’s the issue of you getting cursed. This attack might have some connection with all of that, too.”

“O-okay…”

My impromptu guards are Remilia and Rask. Along with Van, they’re the ones who spoke with me most often.

Their tone is kind, but…their eyes are watching me with an odd intensity.

Are they on guard around me? No, is it that they don’t want me to make contact with the intruder?

If that’s the case, then it would explain Heith’s question when she first came to my room.

What do I do…?!

It’s definitely true that a different wind is blowing now.

It’s almost like a tailwind has been watching me and picked up right when I regained my idol. Given the fact that I have to avoid contact with Lady Freya, this is unmistakably a great opportunity.

Turning away from the two of them, I pretend to look out the window while thinking about what to do.

I heard that the Gullivers, Allen, and Van and the other second-tier adventurers are not at Folkvangr because of a quest they have to handle. It does not change the fact that the difference in combat strength is impossible to overcome, but it’s still less than half of what it would normally have been…!

I should make my move. Make a decision. Break through the people who have taken care of me these past weeks and take action.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, carefully managing my breathing to avoid being noticed, and then I instantly spin around. Just as I’m about to start running, the two of them collapse.

“Wh-?!”

They shudder and slump to the floor, and for a second, I’m stunned.

What happened?!

Confusion and caution mingle as I hear a squeak. At some point the door was opened.

Staring at the half-opened door, I make up my mind and cautiously step outside.

Looking to the left and the right, I see the hallway is deserted.

—No…

At the end of the long hallway, there is an almost illusory figure shimmering as if beckoning me in that direction.

I set aside my doubt and follow after the shade.

The magic-stone lights lining the castle-like corridor go out, bringing darkness. I follow the indistinct, almost-ghostly shadow without anyone finding me.

Soon I arrive at a western corner of the home, on the top floor.

A room for meditation to allow warriors to gather their mind.

“This is…”

There is a stained glass window in the ceiling high above. It’s almost like an altar.

The room is a long space like a small chapel. The floor is made of black marble. There are no chairs. It almost looks like a stage for a coronation, with long shallow stairs leading toward the back of the room. Instead of statues of deities, greatswords, spears, battle-axes, and various other weapons that are all clearly well worn line the walls here.

They are surely the effects of the einherjars who are no more.

I step into the hall of warriors, into its tranquil, almost sacred atmosphere.

And when I reach the center of the room, the door that I left open suddenly closes.

“!”

I spin around.

The only light in the dark room is the faint moonlight from the stained glass window in the ceiling above. Rays of deep blue, light purple, and a sorrowful silver all fill my eyes as a single girl steps toward me from the entrance.

“Hörn…”

Long, ashen hair and a black dress that made her look like a witch’s apprentice.

It’s my second time meeting her.

Her hair covers the right half of her face, just like it had when she came to deliver the letter before the Goddess Festival.

“………”

Her footsteps ring out as she silently approaches me.

There are questions I have to ask. And countless curiosities.

Was she the one who guided me there? If so, why? What are her intentions?

Why have I never met the girl who is called the goddess’s attendant despite having visited Lady Freya’s chamber so many times?

And more than anything, is this really only our second time meeting?

What is this strange feeling…as if I’ve met her dozens of times before, as if she’s always been beside me?

Many questions cross my mind, but none of them make it into words.

Nameless, the one without a second name.

Forgetting to speak, I’m drawn into her eye, as if she is there to hand down my judgment in place of the goddess.

“………”

“………”

She stops.

We look at each other.

There is a small distance between us in the center of the room.

The noise from outside the room is distant.

Is the intrusion happening in the east of the home? There is no one near this room.

No matter what happens here, there would not be anyone who would intrude.

Time continues as we look at each other, and finally she speaks.

“How much of the answer have you reached?”

I instantly understand what she is asking.

I shouldn’t answer. Logic is screaming at me to keep my mouth shut, but I give a foolishly honest response.

“I’m not actually a member of Freya Familia. I’m Hestia Familia’s Bell Cranell.”

It felt like I could not lie to her.

Her expression does not change in the slightest at that confession, and she asks again:

“Then, how much have you figured out?”

“…Huh?”

But I do not understand her second question.

It does not sound like she is just asking about the weirdness and inconsistencies that are affecting Orario.

It sounds like she is confirming something different, a far more crucial core of something…

“Wh-what do you mean? What are you…?”

I do not know what Hörn’s intentions are. And I’m clearly flustered.

Her face that was as calm as the surface of a lake at night suddenly grows stern.

Her small hand clenches.

And just as it looks like her long gray hair has tilted down—

“……..Trash.”

I hear her murmur.

“Eh?”

“…Trash, trash, trashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrashtrash!”

The next moment, she looks up and explodes.

A mindless, shocked look crosses my face for a brief moment before my eyes widen and I recoil, taken aback by the barrage.

“You go beyond an utter fool, putting you squarely in the realm of pure garbage! Enchanting her so! Tormenting her so! And you still don’t understand anything?! Nonsense! Snap out of it!”

“Eh, eh, eh?!”

“How long must you insist on being content with playing the fool?!”

Her long hair sways violently, and she swings her hand roughly to the side while unleashing a storm of rebukes at me.

Talk about a change of appearance! It’s scary. Like scary enough that I’m afraid for my life here!

Because of Hörn’s sudden eruption, I forget my position and almost fall backward.

“You brute, feigning harmlessness! Unconscious of your crimes! Enemy to all women! Filth of humanity! Monster who mistakes obviousness for sincerity! If the deities ever erred, it was in creating a foul beast like you! Parasite of original sin tempting all those older than you! Daring even to seduce the sublime goddess! Have some shame!”

“Wait! Seriously, what are you talking about?!”

“The ‘Please Call Me “Big Sister”’ ranking is a joke! What a farce!”

“Why do you know about that?!”

I can only cry out in panic at the furious fusillade of abuse.

While that’s happening, Hörn’s rage knows no bounds, and she reaches behind her hip and pulls out a knife—wait what??!!

“Unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable!!! I will never, ever forgive what you’ve done! Your stupid face and your pathetic voice and that kindness that torments the goddess so! I should have killed you when I had the chance!”

“E-eeeeeep?!”

“It’s all because you appeared before the goddess!”

A blade dance begins in the blink of an eye.

Just like she indicated, I cry out pathetically while I avoid the knife slashing toward me.

Our two figures dance in the light of the stained glass at the center of the room.

The swishing sound of wind being cut assaults my ears time after time. I can’t let my guard down. Even if her level is below mine, there is no mistaking she is still an upper-tier adventurer.

I fall into panic by the utterly unexpected development as I desperately try to avoid being carved up. We change places several times as I evade the knife she is holding in a backhand grip.

“When you’re around, the littlest things give her joy! And sadden her! And hurt her!”

“Eh…?!”

“You have the potential to be a hero, so why do you not have any lust?! Why can’t you just accept love?! If you did, then she would at least be rewarded some small amount! How many women must you keep hurting like this?!”

Hörn does not stop as she vents at me.

She swings her arm to release the pent-up rage and punches me square in the cheek with a heartfelt scream.

Realizing that she’s referring to Lady Freya, I’m stunned, and try my hardest to understand what she is saying.

“What devotion! Slave to your accursed infatuation!”

“Ghh—!”

When I hear the person I idolized scorned like that, though, my limbs, which only recoiled so far, burn with a resolve to fight back.

My eyes flare as I try to grab the knife that she is swinging down at me.

“Because of you! She is…! I’m…!”

But.

“ ”

When I see the tear falling from her eye, my arms freeze.

The next moment, she tackles me, knocking me to the ground.

“Ugh?!”

My back slams into the hard floor.

Her soft limbs cling to me, and she throws the knife down beside me.

A shrill sound that feels like it will split my eardrums rings out as Hörn grabs my neck with both of her hands.

“Aaaaah! Odious! Detestable! How I wish I could kill you!”

I forget to fight back, my arms limp on the floor as my eyes open wide.

Not because I’m bound by her furious visage.

“And yet, so maddeningly precious…”

Her bluff is falling apart, and her feelings are on the verge of being entirely revealed as time stops for me.

It’s almost pitiful how her trembling fingers don’t squeeze my neck at all.

Even though she seems like she wants to stop my breathing so badly, she can’t bring herself to go through with it.

Love and hate.

Even though it’s just the littlest bit, and only surface deep…for the first time, I feel like I really understand the concept of love and hate being two sides of the same coin.

“If I had just met you first!”

She shouts.

“If I had known the future that awaited!”

She rages.

“Before the goddess could meet you, I could…I could have embraced you…”

She trembles.

“If I…had just met you…first…!”

The light through the stained glass window shines on her back as she reveals the thoughts that lie in the depths of her heart.

“—The goddess would never have been tormented, and I could have fallen for you as myself.”

She’s like a sinner confessing all her sins.

“It was no good…”

“Huh…?”

“My way…didn’t work…”

Her voice is faint.

Trembling.

Her feelings slowly slip out from behind the mask that has been removed.

“I wanted her to remain a sublime goddess…I didn’t want her to become a mere girl like me…! That’s why I tried to kill you, to stop her deluded wish…but, but…but…!”

Her long hair falls, brushing against my forehead.

Her hidden right eye is uncovered.

Unlike her left eye’s iris, which is fully black, her right eye looks almost silver, or bluish-gray.

Tears are welling in that eye.

“Even though she fully intended to bury the girl’s feelings when she failed to achieve her wish! Even though I thought she would wake from her nightmare after being rejected by you! I can still hear her! Crying! I never heard that voice before!”

Her tears fall on my cheek.

As I watch in shocked silence, she cries like a child right before my eyes.

“She’s suffering! Hurting! To a degree she does not even recognize herself! She’s on the verge of breaking! At this rate, she will never be saved! This isn’t right! It can’t be! That isn’t what I wanted at all…!”

Wavering between love and  , on the verge of collapse.

It’s a string of words I can’t comprehend. I can’t grasp her intent.

But my eyes are stolen away by the overflowing emotions, and by how she herself is sobbing.

“…Realize it! Just notice already! It won’t mean anything if you don’t realize it yourself!”

Hörn howls at me even as her tears continue to fall.

“There is no meaning if a fake like me tells you the truth!”

Her face is a mess as she pleads with me to reach out my hand.

“So please…”

Her heartfelt plea rings in my ears.

“Please realize it…Bell—”

The moment I hear that voice…

So many of the memories and events leading up to today all flash through my head at a fantastic speed.

“ ”

Words, tone, resonance, sadness, tears, feelings.

Similarities, commonalities, resemblances, closeness. There are too many to count.

The girl crying right before me. The girl who worked at The Benevolent Mistress. And the sublime goddess beloved by all.

Three people that should not be interchangeable in any sense of the word.

And yet their three expressions overlap.

—The goddess’s attendant.

—Nameless.

—“This child will never become anyone else.”

If she cannot become any other person—then from another angle, that means the person she could become was already determined?

Then could that be—the goddess?

The odd feeling I have whenever I meet her.

The feeling that I’ve met her before, as if she has always been at my side, as if I’ve known her since long ago.

Her face and voice are entirely different, and yet she resembles them too much.

Like a reflection on the water that changes with every little ripple.

She also called herself a fake just now.

And she also said, “I should have killed you then.”

The person who resembled Syr who tried to kill me that day during the Goddess Festival.

The assumption I had then was that they shared memories or perhaps senses. If that was actually close to the reality of it, then she and Syr really are bound in some deep way.

And…

“—Aaaa, I really do like you.”

“—Ahhh, I truly do like you.”

What she said, and what the goddess said…

Her smile that I saw in the goddess’s expression that night.

The warmth that enveloped me. The line between that silver and bluish-gray.

It always seemed so strange. Her having some connection with the city’s biggest familia. The guards and honorifics. One and only. Irreplaceable.

This world being so twisted, and her disappearing, and the goddess appearing before me in her place.

Wait, wait, wait, wait….

I reach a possibility so absurd, so crazy, there should be no way I could possibly reach it.

The existence of Nameless is the final piece that finally lets me realize the truth.

As the torrent of flashbacks and realizations finally finish, my lips open.

“You’re…Syr?”

I speak her true name.

“And Lady Freya…is Syr, too?”

And the name of the girl.

“………”

Her crying expression slowly changes into a beautiful smile.

Her fingers leave my neck and gently caress my forehead.

Looking down at me while I’m stunned and unable to move, Hörn’s eyes narrow, and she slowly stands up.

As if following her, I stand up as well while she picks up the knife.

“…Here…”

“Eh…Th-this is…the Hestia Knife?!”

I’m dumbstruck by what she holds out to me.

The knife she was swinging at me is the knife that Lady Hestia ordered just for me. Even if the room is shrouded in darkness, I’m ashamed of myself for not noticing. It almost feels like the knife itself is upset with me.

At the same time, though, I remember something.

Something the goddess told me once, and something that Lilly said, too. Anyone who doesn’t bear Lady Hestia’s falna can’t properly wield this knife. The blade itself has been dead in a sense. No matter how much Hörn might have hacked away at me, it wouldn’t have been possible for her to mortally wound me with it.

She wasn’t trying to kill me this time at all.

“…Wait, from the very start, were you…trying to help me?”

I’m still gripping the knife as she firmly clasps my hand in both of hers.

All of a sudden, the hieroglyphs engraved in the knife take on a purple gleam, as if life has been breathed back into it.

Seeing that, Hörn laughs softly.

“Yes, I never intended to kill you—from the very start, this was my intention.”

And then, as if offering up her body, she throws herself onto the knife in my hand.

“What?!”

I can feel the blade piercing her skin. The warm red pouring from her.

In the blink of an eye, her clothes and my hand are drenched in blood.

I immediately hold Hörn as she starts to lose strength and collapse.

“What are…what are you doing?!”

Kneeling down, I support her slender arms as I cry out in shock.

I only just barely managed to redirect the knife blade that slipped into her chest. I could not do anything more than that. The blade pierced just a little bit below her chest, but blood is still welling from inside her, robbing her of life.

I pull the knife out and desperately try to stop the bleeding as Hörn weakly leans her head against my chest.

“I betrayed…the goddess…out of devotion to her…And for a second time…at that…”

The smile on her lips is one of pity.

A smile of pity and of contempt for her own foolishness.

“And more than anything…I loved you…Not because of anyone else’s feelings. I did it of my own volition.”

Her fragile, repentant smile reflects in my wide eyes.

“So I will die…in order to atone for what I’ve done…”

She is bleeding out, and her face is frighteningly pale as my hand forcefully pushes against her chest.

“Healing! There’s still time! If I take you to Heith—!”

Why are you doing this?! Why are you trying to die?!

I can’t help remembering Winne, who once died for me, as I grit my teeth and try to carry Hörn.

“Wait…”

But when I start to stand up, the slender hand clinging to my chest stops me.

“My magic…miracle to connect me with her…”

“C-connect…?!”

“If I use this…she will…see everything…she will know everything about you as well.”

Hörn tries to explain as I listen in confusion.

Her breathing is shallow, and she wheezes in pain as she gathers the last of her strength.

“But even so…that you may know…her feelings that only I could hear…”

Summoning every last bit of mind she had left inside her, she begins to pray.

“…Untrodden stairs, forbidden door…today, this day, my body infringes heavens’ laws…”

A magic circle unfolds around us.

Its color is a gray that does not quite reach silver.

“Hollow soul, shallow lust…”

A quiet undulation. The magic power swirling is slight as well.

Particles of light reflect the glimmer of the stained glass, gleaming as they ascend to the heavens.

It’s an ephemeral beat that sounds almost like a prayer for salvation.

A shorter cast incomparable to that of the sage.

But it treads upon a taboo realm of the same sort. A secret spell that is hers alone.

“By the name exchanged…descend, daughter of the gods—”

And with quivering lips, she speaks its name.

“Vana Seiðr.”

The magic circle shatters.

And the fragments of light, the ashen color gleam, transform into a beautiful, jewellike silver and are absorbed into Hörn.

“?!”

Her body shimmers like the crescent moon as I hold her and become shrouded in heat.

The light subsides as the magic courses around her, and once it has all settled, in my arms is—

“…Syr…?”

The girl with the blue-gray hair.

I murmur in a daze.

As my voice reaches her, her eyelashes quiver.

Her blue-gray eyes slowly open and look up at me.

“…It hurts…”

“Eh…?”

“I didn’t want to experience this feeling…I can’t bear it…I cast Syr aside, and yet…and yet it still hurts so much.”

Syr’s voice. Syr’s gaze. Syr’s breathing.

These are not Hörn’s words.

They are the feelings of the real her, which only Hörn with her connection to the goddess could know.

“Even though I thought I would be satisfied with you alone…I hurt so many people and so many precious things…I’m so numb. Syr was all just a lie, but…I can’t explain it…!”

A sacred scene is unfolding as I hold her beneath the blue-and-purple light of the stained glass window.

By chance, the room feels like the cathedral did when I visited it with her.

Is the grief-stricken voice filling the room the remnants of the goddess?

That which should have been cast aside.

Should have been buried.

But it had remained deep within her in a place where she didn’t notice?

“The thing I wanted most…is something else. What I wished for, what I prayed for was—”

A voice seeking  .

I gulp.

A big tear wells in her eye and trickles down her cheek.

“Please, stop me! I don’t want to be driven mad by love anymore!”

And she says the words that the goddess could not speak.

“Save me…Bell…!”

“Ghhh!”

My fingers tightly grip the slender shoulder I’m supporting.

My heart starts throbbing. On impulse, I…

The billowing torrent of emotion scorches my chest and my heart, and I swear a vow.

“I will save you.”

I respond, even if the answer is a foregone conclusion.

“Even if it means hurting you again! Even if it’s nothing more than serving my own ego! I will save you!”

I swear it in a loud voice with all that I have, as if to ensure it reaches her hollow heart.

I do not know what I should do. But I’ve made up my mind.

No matter how much scorn it earns me, no matter how ugly an act of self-satisfaction it is—Bell Cranell is an absolute fool who can’t abandon this girl.

Self-preservation is not enough to make me brush aside a hand reaching out to be saved!

Her tears fall on bloodstained clothes. Just before the girl looking back at me quietly closes her eyes…it feels like she smiled every so faintly.

She slips into a deep sleep, like a child who has cried herself to exhaustion.

“…! The wound…?”

The wound on her—no, on Hörn’s chest—is gone.

Is this a side effect of the spell?

Is the wound healed?

No, is it because she transformed into the daughter of the gods?

I honestly don’t know the nature of this spell. But it’s clear that her life is safe for now.

But I can’t take that for granted.

When the magic that is still being maintained is finally released, Hörn’s fatal wound will probably return, and she will breathe her last shortly after.

“I won’t let that happen…!”

Holding her in my arms, I stand up.

I don’t want to lose anyone. I won’t let it happen.

No matter how boastful, how fanciful, how much a pipe dream, or pathetic, or shameless, or foolish it is—say it, say it, say it!

I will save everyone!

“I will save all of you!”

Holding her body, I start running.

I leap out of the mediation chamber and head deeper into the estate.

Charging to the highest floor, where the goddess awaits.

He’s coming.

The boy is coming here.

Realizing it from the senses that Hörn shared via her magic, Freya grimaced.

“Ottar.”

“Milady.”

“Save Hörn. I won’t allow her to return to the heavens and disappear from my sight like this.”

She gave her loyal retainer his order as she sat in her chair.

“No, I won’t allow it. To do something like this…I will punish her personally. Do not allow her to die under any circumstances.”

“But what of your guard, Milady…?”

“It matters not. I do not need any other children, either. Take everyone and go.”

“…Yes, Milady.”

With that, Ottar left the room.

The presence of the rest of her guards and attendants grew distant.

There was only the single goddess in her chamber, which had fallen silent.

He was coming to where she awaited.

“Bell…”

Running. Running. Running.

I sprint, holding her body as her arms hang limply and her eyes stay closed.

At my back, I can feel the battle cries and furious swordplay still unfolding in the eastern wing. Using the suspended corridor on the top floor and avoiding the central courtyard, I rush into the northern building.

I encounter no one. This is unnatural. I can tell that much.

The building has been intentionally cleared out. She really has seen through my movements. She’s inviting me in.

But even so, I’m not going to stop.

Abandoning all fear and unease for the moment, I push forward.

“!”

Just a short distance from my goal.

As I run up the stairs leading to the highest floor that I had grown so used to passing through, I see him standing there blocking the way.

The enormous, rust-haired boaz.

“Hand over the girl.”

“Ghl…!”

The city’s strongest adventurer, who has already defeated me in a single blow once before. Ottar is looking down at me from above as he makes his curt declaration.

The overwhelming presence of someone impossibly stronger causes me to catch my breath, but I still adjust my hold on Hörn to shield her.

“I will not kill her. It’s the goddess’s will.”

“Eh…?”

“That girl shall live.”

Those are the warrior’s brief words.

But because he is a true warrior more than anyone else, I feel like I can trust what he says.

Looking into his rust-colored eyes, I fall silent and make up my mind. I do not know anything about the nature of her magic, and I can’t use any healing magic myself, so I wouldn’t be able to heal her wound myself no matter what I tried. Trusting Ottar, I walk forward and hand her to him.

His treelike arms gently cradle her.

“Go. The goddess is waiting beyond here.”

That is all Ottar says.

I watch his back as he passes me on the stairs and then turn forward again.

I climb the remaining stairs. I stop running, taking the steps one at a time to steel my will.

Suddenly.

I remember the heroic tale—“Erlandr of Water and Light.”

The spirit passes away without ever revealing her true name.

The saint falls into grief and regret.

And the knight is tormented by guilt.

Then what about now?

Who is the knight, who is the spirit, and who the saint?

Who has failed to act on their feelings?

Who has achieved love?

Who has failed to realize  ?

Who is the most pitiful?

I’m no Erlandr.

But I’m going to go to the saint—to the witch.

To bare the feelings that lie in my breast.

“—You’ve come at last, Bell.”

The highest floor.

Opening both doors, I arrive at the goddess’s chambers, where she is waiting alone for me.

The couch and table where we sat and talked so many times before has been put away. She is just standing there.

“I suppose it would be shameless to ask what brings you here.”

Her tone and the air about her are totally different from just yesterday.

She is staring me down not as the loving goddess who has given me so much warmth, but as a cold empress.

“If you had just accepted me without noticing everything…I would have always been at your side and provided you with love…Hörn did something she really shouldn’t have.”

Her silver gaze is clear and cold, strict.

She is like a child whose favorite toy had been ruined, like an arrogant dictator. And yet even so, she is brimming with a supernatural charisma.

Two sides of the same coin.

A ruthless and uninhibited goddess of beauty worthy of being called an absolute ruler. The form of a deusdea utterly unlike the girl at the tavern from my memories.

But I speak without cowering.

“You were Syr.”

She responds without batting an eyelash.

“Yes, it was I who played with all of you at that tavern.”

And if anything, she answers as if this is all pointless.

“However, you appear to be misunderstanding something. The girl Syr never existed to begin with.”

“………”

“There was once a girl with the same name…but I received that true name from her. What you saw was merely my performance. A pretense.”

I’m surprised by how calmly I take what should have been such a shocking confession.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. I was role playing…it was just a game. Hiding all traces of my divinity, assuming the mask of a girl, I pretended to be a mortal to pass the time.”

“Role playing…?”

“Yes. And while doing that, I met Lyu and the other girls. And you. It was all just an extension of my game.”

Her eyes narrow soberly, as if explaining something so trivial as not to be worth the effort.

“I created all of it. Syr never existed from the start. She was just a piece in my game. A flight of fancy.”

She was implicitly saying my resolve to save Syr was badly misdirected. But even so, I still called out to her.

“Syr.”

“…Stop calling that name.”

“No.”

“Ghh…”

“Syr.”

Every time I say that name, her expression twists in annoyance.

I stare into her silver eyes.

“Why? Why were you crying then?”

The day of the harvest festival.

She cried that day when I hurt her, beneath the gray skies, which continued to look like they might also break into tears for days afterward.

Her eyes widen.

“Why did you always help me? Even up to today?”

When I ran away from the bar after being laughed at. When I was overwhelmed by just how far beyond my reach my idol was. During the incident with the Xenos when my body was so hopelessly cold. She always appeared before me, at times offering a smile, at others a path to escape, and sometimes just providing me simple warmth.

And all those times she continued to prepare a lunch for me.

There were so many questions lying within those few words.

“…The reason I helped you in Syr’s form was to guide your growth. I fell in love with your soul at first sight. After cultivating that translucent gleam, and after developing your body and mind to my preferences, I intended to harvest the fruits of my labor.”

“………”

“The grimoire, the amulet for the war game, and everything else as well…it was all to help you grow and to protect you.”

That much was certainly true. I overcame so many battles largely because of all the support and advice she gave me. It was because of all that that I could stand there before her as a second-tier adventurer.

It wasn’t wrong. But it wasn’t the whole truth, either.

“The tears you saw…were merely the performance of the girl. At that moment, Syr would have cried, so I conformed to my game and acted out my role.”

“That’s a lie,” I fire back immediately.

“!”

“Your hurt was real. Those tears were so real, I was paralyzed by them.”

I reject her claims.

No matter how painful it is, no matter how much it tears at her heart and mine, I will not allow her to say those tears were a lie. I will affirm the existence of the girl named Syr Flover.

She was not just a performance or a pretense at all.

“Syr was there.”

A wispy cloud passes outside the large window.

The moonlight shining into the chamber quietly stills the air.

After my vehement denial has finished echoing, the pale, moonlit room falls silent, and her face remains warped.

And as if growing annoyed by my refusal to avert my eyes, my unchanging expression, as if losing her patience, she pulls something out of her pocket.

“…! That ornament is…!”

The paired accessories. Not my knight one, the spirit’s.

The one I gave Syr.

“The first present Syr received from you…she was happy.”

The silver inlaid with blue decorations draws my gaze.

She smiles.

She holds it up in her right hand, as if to put it into her hair—

“But I don’t need it anymore.”

She swings it down with force.

Before I can react, she throws the ornament forcefully to the ground, shattering it.

The shattering sound that pierces my ears is almost like a girl crying out.

As time slows to a crawl, the fragments of blue scatter cruelly across the floor, robbing me of speech.

“The game is over. There is no point in indulging your wild musings.”

A piece fell near her foot.

She raises her leg and crushes it without any hesitation.

“Syr is gone now. Syr is dead.”

Time stops as she steps on that fragment. I see all my memories of Syr dwelling within it, and my blood boils.

The goddess’s gloating eyes see into my heart, stirring up my emotions, manipulating my feelings.

As if it is amusing, setting fire to a calm heart.

I’m caught in the goddess’s trick. I’m in the palm of the witch’s hand.

But so what?

I break the silence, screaming.

“You’re wrong! Syr is still alive! Syr is you! You were the one who asked me to save you!”

“That was just the result of Hörn’s emotions getting crossed up. The impurity of a child’s wish and my divine will mixing in the process of her magic. I don’t want to be saved, and I certainly have not asked to be saved.”

Her senses were linked by the magic, so she knew from start to finish.

She has a bewitching smile, confident of her superior position. Her eyes narrow, as if teasing a foolish child who is growing enraged over nothing.

“And who would ask you for help? Weren’t you the one who rejected Syr’s love in the first place?”

Her lips curl into a sneer.

That is the crux of it all. The arrogant reality that Bell Cranell perpetrated.

Faced with her entirely correct argument—I absolutely agree.

“That’s right! I did reject it!”

“!”

I step forward, paying no heed to how her silver eyes widen in shock.

The fragments of the accessory have scattered across the floor, creating a single path.

A single, straight path that doesn’t require me to crush any pieces of memory underfoot.

She looks stunned as I push forward with long strides until I stand right in front of her.

“I rejected your confession! Your feelings! It was none other than me who hurt you!”

Like another moment in the past, I’m so close that our lips might easily meet as I unleash all of my feelings.

“I’m the one who did that to you! That is why I’m going to stop you!”

“Ghh…?!”

“That is why I’m going to save you! I won’t let anyone else take this terrible role!”

The determination burning in my chest. The vow of what is surely a childish stubbornness.

I can’t make up for the tears she cried. But I can protect her from hurting anyone else and from hurting herself any further.

I’m the source of the problem? That’s right! I caused it, and I hurt her!

So what, then, as terrible as I am, I don’t have any right to do anything? This isn’t a joke!

However much other people might scorn me, however much I might hate myself, I know full well that just folding my hands and doing nothing is more unsightly and more meaningless!

It isn’t reparations or atonement or anything!

The source of what is hurting us is the fact that I rejected her feelings!

“…Do you understand what you are saying? One-sidedly deciding to save a girl you yourself rejected before? Even though you refuse to give her love or anything else?”

She has stood in shock, but soon a clear and obvious loathing appears in her eyes.

She snorts scornfully.

“What a hideous ego. Even among the gods, there was no male like you. You really are a hypocrite beyond all possible comprehension.”

“Then what you’ve done is ego, too!”

“Ghh…!”

“In order to take me for yourself, you’ve twisted everyone—all of Orario! That is a terribly hideous ego, too!”

Her sneer pierces my heart, drawing blood, but in full defiance, I force her to look in the mirror and bleed, too.

I know it already. She’s letting her possessiveness run wild, and I’m spewing sophistries. We are both flailing about, letting our unbearable and unseemly selfishness show for all the world to see.

The die was cast and shattered long ago. However much one might long for love or wish for  , blood and tears will always flow in a clash of egos that devolves into hurting each other.

There is no going back for us.

My eyes and her silver eyes glare at each other.

“…No matter how much you scream and cry, it does not change the fact that I was playing a game. Syr was my lie—”

“There’s no way I could believe such a heartfelt confession was all just a lie!”

“Wh—?”

I shout back half on impulse, and for the first time, her silver eyes waver in shame.

“No matter how much you try to say it was all a game, I won’t let you say Syr did not exist! What do I care about your pride?!”

I can never forget that day.

I will carry her tears and my shock and regret for the rest of my life.

No matter how much we might wish it, no matter how much we might want a do-over, nothing will change the fact that that day actually happened!

“That wasn’t a lie at all, it was real! I won’t let anyone deny it! Not even you!”

As I continue shouting, it seems like for just a moment her perfect white skin, her cheeks redden.

But just as soon as I think that, her peerless visage warps, and as if she can’t bear it anymore, she pushes me away.

I move back a few steps without stumbling, still watching her.

“…Disagreeable. Yes, this is terribly unpleasant. It’s the first time I’ve felt this way.”

Her smile disappears, and a quiet rage backs her words.

The goddess’s wrath, her divine strength, makes my skin tingle.

I’m surely doing something unbelievably crazy right now.

I’m defying the goddess of beauty. Getting into a heated argument with one who awes even other deities.

But even so, the sacred flame in my back, the feelings hidden in my heart, will not yield.

“You’ll stop me, you’ll save me…for all of that glib speech, what is it that you are going to do?”

“………”

“I’m sure you have guessed, but it’s true, my charm does not work on you alone, Bell. But Orario is still twisted. Were I to give the order, the whole city would become your enemy. Hestia Familia, too…and even your precious Sword Princess.”

While I’m pressing onward in solitude, she thrusts at me with reality.

No matter how much I try to be calm, my heart is racing. And as if seeing through even those movements, her eyes flare sharply as she declares the solemn truth.

“I will absolutely break your spirit, by whatever means necessary.”

There is no exaggeration in what she said. She has absolute control over the fate of everyone in Orario.

I can’t hide the bead of sweat that trickles down the back of my neck.

“There is no way you could save me—”

Just as she says that, something odd happens.

I notice it immediately.

“—Hot?”

My back is burning.

The blessing of the sacred flame is roaring, as if burning away the false blessing from when the goddess of beauty updated my status.

“ ”

At that same moment, Lady Freya inhales sharply, and her expression changes.

She turns sharply, her gaze directed outside the window.

To Orario’s night sky, filled with the light of hearths.

“…Hestia…?”

At some point, countless hearth fires began flickering throughout the city.

“Ugh…?!”

The change gripped the entire metropolis at once.

In the Chamber of Prayers beneath Guild Headquarters.

Fels dropped to a knee in front of the stone altar, one hand on the ground for support.

“My body is hot…?! There is no flame, and yet it’s like I’m burning…!”

The mage’s voice shuddered as if actually being scorched by flame.

Seeing that, Ouranos, eyes still closed, quietly spoke.

“The authority of the sacred flame has begun to move.”

“Sacred flame…? What do you mean?”

As if sensing danger instinctively, the silver gleam deep in the black robe’s hood sparkled like an explosion of fireworks.

Running against one of Freya’s rules, words and actions that would upset the balance of the sandbox, Fels became a puppet to her charm, holding out a magic item pointed toward Ouranos’s seat.

But Ouranos did not waver.

“It’s meaningless, Fels. It’s already too late. No matter how she might try to turn all of you into puppets, the roaring flames cannot be stopped.”

Like the heavens that watched over the world, he coolly began the reveal.

“If all who are charmed react to certain words, actions, and signs in order to erase any points of danger…then we need only rely on signs that we alone can understand.”

“What…?!”

“Subtle signals that children and even deities from other homelands would not notice.”

When Hestia had come down there, the arrangements were already complete.

The two deities were conspiring even as Fels listened.

That was why Ouranos had said what he did. “There is nothing you can do now.”

There is nothing you can do yet, so wait until the time comes.

“From the first part of the conversation, I knew that Hermes had left a message with Hestia. With such limited options, it was a gamble…but I entrusted Hermes with delivering the firewood.”

“Firewood…?! What of it?!”

The firewood that the Guild had prepared and entrusted Hermes Familia with was nothing but regular kindling. It did not have any special power in and of itself. And Fels, bound by Freya’s rules, had not been suspicious of it at all.

Ouranos, or rather Hestia, had tampered with it after that.

Sparked by Hermes’s first message, it was all Hestia’s daring resolution in correctly interpreting the old god’s will and continuing to act without giving up hope.

“The wood carried through the city—has had Hestia’s ichor poured over it.”

“That was a really…really dangerous tightrope walk…”

Hermes leaned against a wall, murmuring weakly beneath the cold sky that looked like it might deliver snow on the city at any moment.

Wherever he looked, on every corner, there were residents of Orario holding their heads and keeling over.

Adventurers and deities alike were no exception. They were all leaning against a wall like Hermes, or bracing themselves against the ground, all grimacing as if suffering a terrible headache.

And from the windows of the houses lining the street shone the light of countless hearths.

“Innocent, thoughtless hearth-making…I’d say I did a pretty good job of it…”

The two letters he received from Hestia were the key.

The first was the memo he had written himself, Turn Orario into a hearth.

The other pointed to the location where Hestia’s ichor had been stashed away.

Because Hestia could not move while under observation, Asfi had surely stored the blood in a magic item and carried it out while invisible. It was fixed beneath a table in the corner of an underground, run-down bar that Hermes enjoyed and patronized regularly.

Everyone in his familia knew about Asfi’s magic items. If she snuck invisibly into the home where the firewood was being stored, it was highly likely that she would be noticed. And if that action was reported to Freya by the charmed familia members, that would be the end of things. So Hermes carried out the finishing touches himself.

Retrieving Hestia’s ichor, he spilled a single drop of it on each log that had been brought in by the Guild.

“Even if I felt something was off, I did not know anything at all about the situation…And how could I even begin to suspect that following a note written by a mere mortal like Asfi would somehow lead to the destruction of the sandbox…! There was no reason for misinterpretation or a reset to trigger…!”

His expression twisted into a smile as a cold sweat formed on his brow.

Hermes had desperately controlled his thoughts in order to prevent the feeling of something being off from rising to suspicion.

He had already confirmed that, at that level, his memories would not be reset.

Because of that, even if he did not grasp the rules of the sandbox or who the mastermind behind it was—indeed, he tried not to figure either out—he had little reason to believe that the act of creating a hearth would be the cause of the destruction of the sandbox.

For example, suppose there was a special flame sword that could destroy a legendary demon king.

But for anyone who did not know the demon lord’s weakness or that such a weakness even existed, if someone told them to make a flame sword, they would just cock their head and wonder why. Without understanding the connection between those two, it was impossible to see how the sword could lead to defeating the demon lord.

Hermes had not probed the disturbances he sensed and had just quietly gone along with the plan he had received from outside. He had Lulune and the others carry the wood that had been prepared with ichor and ordered them to light a fire with it when they delivered it. All how Asfi had written it in her letter.

The distribution of firewood had been arranged by the Guild and was an annual occurrence. The residences of Orario under Freya’s spell did not interpret it as something outside the ordinary and suspected absolutely nothing.

“Well, even after getting taken out of the game in a pathetic fashion at the start…there were still things to do outside the board…”

He could see Lulune, Falgar, and everyone else sitting down, suffering from the effects after they had finished delivering the wood.

Gratified, Hermes smiled. He felt bad about forcing his followers to carry out a scheme like that without understanding about it, but even so, he had still continued fighting from off the board.

“We wouldn’t have had any moves left if Freya had turned everyone in Orario into complete slaves.”

Ouranos’s voice echoed in the underground chamber.

If she had turned the people, adventurers, and deities all into faithful puppets who only listened to orders, then there would have been no preventing her victory.

If Hermes had been just another servant to the empress, unable to think for himself, let alone sense a disturbance, then Hestia would have been unable to move on her own and Asfi would inevitably have been caught in the not-too-distant future.

“However, Freya did not do that. Or rather, she could not do it. For Orario to cease to be the city of heroes would mean nothing less than the destruction of the mortal realm.”

If every adventurer save those in Freya Familia were reduced to a puppet, would it be possible to complete the three great quests, to slay the black dragon?

Was it possible to clear the Dungeon with only slaves who did nothing more than obey orders?

The answer was no.

By turning them all into puppets and creating a perfect sandbox, the hero that the deities desired could not be born. Freya knew that, too.

She was still one of the deities who loved the mortal realm and not an evil goddess bent on destruction.

In order to avoid the destruction of the world, she could not completely twist it.

“And the destruction of the mortal realm…would mean the loss of Bell Cranell, whom she had just gained. Indeed, since she wishes to push him to become a hero, she needed to preserve the nature of the city of heroes.”

And thus, this result.

The twisted current state of Orario, where people could still live freely, albeit with certain limitations.

And that distortion was the one and only opening for them to break through.

“What…what are you saying, Ouranos?!”

At the foot of the altar, Fels was flustered…still struggling with the strength of the charm.

Even the former sage who had lived for eight hundred years and attained great wisdom was powerless before the unknowable unknown. Fels was still incapable of comprehending what Ouranos was saying or his divine will.

Fels’s outthrust arm was trembling, as if the mage’s body was fighting against the restraints shackling it even now.

“What are you planning to do now?!”

The old god responded solemnly.

“What will occur now is the re-creation of a certain goddess’s temple from the heavens. She will heighten her divine might to envelop all of Orario and purge all wickedness.”

“…?!”

“Her name is Hestia, and her dominion is the sacred eternal flame of protection—the goddess of the altar where fire is consecrated.”

The old god slowly opened his eyes.

“Orario will be transformed into a hearth—into an altar to her.”

The silence that he had promised Freya was at an end.

The eyes of the god that evoked the blue skies were revealed, and his lips curled up.

“I’m done entertaining your tantrum, Freya.”

The black-robed mage, unable to understand what was happening, unable to act, was stunned.

But looking up blankly at the god, the mage murmured with eight hundred years of emotion.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you smile, Ouranos.”

“So cooooooooooooold!”

In the sky.

Approximately three kirlos up.

Far removed from the ground, Hestia was being buffeted by the winds.

“Please don’t make any sudden moves, Goddess Hestia! I’ve only flown this high a handful of times myself!”

“Even if you say that, I can’t help it if I’m cold, Asfi! It’s almost winter! This is the time of year when everyone starts breaking out the stoves! See, my teeth are chattering! Look!”

“Then why did you only wear your usual outfit?!”

“You know, not that it matters really, it’s a pretty rare combo for the two of us to be working together!”

“You’re right, it doesn’t really matter at all!”

Asfi was holding Hestia as they descended while they bickered.

There were two reasons why they were so high in the sky where they could see clouds up close and personal.

The first was an abundance of caution.

Hestia had disappeared at some point, and Freya Familia was probably in an uproar about it.

Even if they failed to discern that Hestia had taken to the skies, the eyesight of upper-tier adventurers was a looming threat. The Hades Head’s effect was only to make the wearer and their equipment invisible, and Asfi had only been carrying enough magic items for her own use, so she could not make Hestia invisible, too.

Because of that, they had to go high enough to escape the eyes of upper-tier adventurers and use the clouds in order to hide their movement.

Because of that, the atmosphere was thinner, the wind was terrible, Hestia’s hair kept hitting Asfi’s glasses, and both of their moods had gotten strange.

And the second reason was—

“I’m going to land on Babel now, Goddess Hestia!”

The tower of the gods that loomed over the city and stretched into the sky.

The wings on her talaria spread out, and just like she’d said, her feet touched down on the roof of Babel.

After a brief moment of an odd sense of floating, Hestia opened her eyes, which had been clenched so tightly shut as she clung to Asfi…She was greeted by an autumn night’s sky with nothing interrupting her view in all directions.

There was no decoration on Babel’s roof.

There was no edge to prevent falling off or anything like that.

It had never been designed with the intention that anyone would stand there.

The only thing there were stars above, which looked like they were just barely out of reach of an outstretched hand, and a chill wind.

“Ahhhh, I know I suggested it myself, but I’m glad we actually made it.”

“It appears we managed to escape the notice of Freya Familia as well.”

Hestia rubbed her arms as Asfi looked at the door to the stairway that was the one and only entrance out onto the roof.

Babel’s top floor was currently Freya’s domain, and Freya Familia regularly occupied it. They would surely be noticed if they had tried to climb the tower the correct way, so Hestia had suggested the route that only Asfi could take.

Set down by Asfi, Hestia looked all around.

“How pretty…not that we really have any time to enjoy the view.”

The gorgeous night scenes of Orario were visible in all directions around the tower.

At the very center of the city and its highest point as well, the view it boasted was the most luxuriant in all the city. Picking out the lights of stoves and fireplaces amid the glimmering magic-stone lights that looked as if a jewel box had been scattered across the city, Hestia narrowed her eyes and undid her hairbands.

“Goddess Hestia, having come this far, it’s a bit awkward to admit this, but…I still don’t really know what it is you are going to do…”

Asfi had trusted what Hestia said and brought them to the summit of Babel.

Would this really free Hermes and the others? What would happen to Orario? Her voice could not hide the unease of those thoughts.

“Hmm…the phenomenon that I administer, bluntly, it’s flame, but…well, it’s a pretty plain sort of thing.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a hearth fire, different from Hephaistos’s smithing flame…basically, unlike Take’s martial arts, Soma’s wine, or Freya’s beauty, it doesn’t really do much down here in the mortal realm.”

Asfi’s expression grew confused at the sudden strange examples.

As Hestia explained what was part of the reason why her familia had never gathered many members until Bell joined, the goddess released her long black hair, letting it hang to her waist.

“But with an altar prepared like this, there are things I can do.”

At that moment.

When Hestia quietly raised her right hand to the level of her chest—all around the city, slender rays of crimson light began to rise.

Dozens, hundreds of pillars of light.

The houses that Hermes Familia had delivered firewood to, or more crucially, the flames rising from their stoves, furnaces, and fireplaces, swelled.

Asfi’s eyes widened.

The light was a different color, but it was familiar.

It was the light of falna—the residual warm glow from her back when her status was updated.

“We created countless hearths in the city laid out in formation. All imbued with my ichor. In other words, they are a medium. Those countless lights are equivalent to my retainers. And with them, I can re-create the Temple of Hestia that exists in the heavens.”

That was when Asfi noticed it.

Hestia’s voice. The usual warmth and gentle familiarity in it were fading.

In its place was a mechanical, wholly unhuman voice imbued with divine splendor.

Divinity swelled in Hestia’s small body as Asfi subconsciously recoiled, pulling back in awe.

“Mine is the virginal. Bowing not to the force of charm, resolutely rejecting that. Wicked is passion, righteous is purity. Cleanse the binding wiles of charm that blanket this land. Purify wickedness, O cleansing flame.”

Her voice wove a sonorous declaration.

It sounded almost like a spell or an invocation of the deities.

The goddess’s expression became blank.

Her eyes stared down on the city, aloof and divine. There was no trace of humanity in them.

The innumerable faint pillars of light reaching into the sky gleamed a vibrant crimson as if responding to her call. The surging divine might burned into Asfi’s eyes.

“Th…this is…?!”

The human reflexively covered her face as the swirling, overpowering divine authority came blowing in.

The firewood delivered to the points that Hestia had indicated and Asfi had delivered transformed into a blaze amplifying the goddess’s divine authority.

If there were anyone who could see from a bird’s-eye view, they would understand.

The hearth fires dotted around Orario like watch fires were growing, creating something that resembled a magic circle.

The round tower surrounded by city walls was transforming into an enormous hearth itself, overflowing with the light of flames.

“Don’t go calling me a cheater after what you pulled. This is the way of things decided by deities. This is my transient mission and endeavor.”

It was a silent acknowledgment.

The agreement of the great gods who feared such an incursion and domination of the heavens and an unwritten rule of the mortal realm.

The virginal goddesses who could reject the force of overwhelming charm were a counter and a check on the goddesses of beauty. Hestia was allowed to fully wield her authority—not arcanum but the phenomenon over which she ruled—in the face of a danger that menaced both the heavens and the mortal world.

“…It was a mistake to retreat from Babel in order to corner Bell, Freya.”

For just a brief moment, her tone reverted back to her usual as she turned her eyes to Folkvangr in the south of the city.

“What you surrendered was the very core of the altar.”

Babel stood at the heart of Orario.

And it was also the tower of gods, the point closest to the heavens.

The flames increased in intensity.

The ground shuddered silently.

The city itself seemed almost to become a hearth for the sacred flame.

On the streets, in bars, in plazas, the children and deities alike were collapsing.

“I’ll show you Hestia’s secret technique, something even you’ve never known.”

It was her trump card, a ritual that only the deities of her homeland knew of.

The ultimate divine mystery, it was a miracle far below the level of arcanum.

Asfi fell silent as she watched the goddess quietly wave her right arm horizontally.

“Dios Aedes Vesta.”

An enormous magic power swelled. A tremendous, different divine might roared.

“ !!!”

Being so close to the manifestation of that power bent Asfi’s body backward as far as it would go.

An all-purifying light was born.

A cleansing flame.

A crackling fire that rang in the ears of all who had fallen under Freya’s charm, but also a warmth rumbling deep from within them.

The power of the goddess dispersed, engulfing the city in a scorching wave.

The ritual flames rose.

The fire of blessing sang a song of purification.

It spread like a wildfire through all points of the city, but its blaze did not burn anyone.

It was not an inferno that destroyed enemies but a protecting flame to save supplicants.

Like a gentle bonfire lighting the darkness, like the kind crackling fire in a hearth, it provided a warm comfort and divine blessing to those who were suffering.

It was the crackle of flames signaling the end of a nightmare.

A divine fire the scorched away all binding spells.

On the streets, in the bars, in homes, and towers. The path of the flame that consumed buildings touched mortals and deities alike.

The messenger god, the smithing goddess, the god of medicine, the god of war, the trickster goddess.

A prum supporter, a young blacksmith, a girl from the Far East, a renart sorceress.

And a princess of the blade.

The raging flame gently engulfed deities and followers who had fallen to the floor or the ground with their eyes shut.

The flame of the hearth resembled a spirit’s miracle and spread without end, sending scarlet sparks flying up into the air—and finally, it disappeared.

The city fell silent, as if it had all been an illusion.

“…What was that light?”

Hegni murmured.

Around him, the other members of Freya Familia were struggling to understand as well.

Their eyes looked up, outside their home, searching for traces of the scarlet blaze that had lit the night sky, their attention directed above them.

Ghh…Not good, something isn’t right!

An unease that was difficult to describe quickly took root in his heart.

The blaze that had been entrapped by the great city walls had not infringed on Folkvangr. The countless sparks flying through the air had shrouded his body entirely, but there was no abnormality. But Hegni’s cowardly heart was afflicted by an urgency he could not put into words.

Gripping his black sword in one hand, the dark elf glared straight ahead.

Before him was the battered and bruised fellow elf who was down on one knee with her back to the wall that separated Freya Familia’s home from the city.

“…Surrender. Lay down your weapon slowly and without struggling. Else I shall sever one of your limbs.”

“Ghh…!”

Lyu was surrounded by members of Freya Familia, including Hegni.

Her hard-fought struggle, escaping from underground and rampaging all around the home, had reached its end once Hegni joined the fray. Just like when she had been overpowered in the battle during the Goddess Festival, she was forced into an unfavorable position by the strength of a Level 6, and she had been eventually cornered on the edge of the field far removed from the main building.

She was surrounded by a semicircle that would not let even the smallest insect through.

Lyu put the fist gripping her sword on the ground as her face twisted.

“Khh…Bell…”

Her eyes focused on the mansion atop the hill where the boy was surely still being held. She brushed aside the thought that she had only reached that far and hardened her heart, which was on the verge of breaking as she stood back up and steadied her blade.

Hegni felt a great respect for his proud fellow elf, who did not lose her battle spirit even in such a hopeless situation, and as such, he immediately cast aside all mercy.

“If you would choose honor, then you shall have it in your death!”

He stepped in silently, his figure disappearing from view before appearing right before Lyu’s eyes, swinging down his pitch-black blade.

However—

—Shiiing!

““?!””

There was a shrill metallic screech and a spray of sparks as the dark elf’s slash was parried.

“Wh…?!”

Was it Hegni whose eyes widened in shock, or Lyu who was dumbfounded by the sight, or was it the others of Freya Familia who could not believe their eyes?

All of them beheld a beautiful golden-eyed, blond-haired girl.

“…Sword Princess…?”

Aiz swung her slender silver blade as Lyu murmured behind her.

All of Freya Familia there save Hegni recoiled at her golden gaze.

“I remember everything.”

The girl who rarely displayed obvious emotion had a clear, unmistakable anger in her voice.

“Bell isn’t part of Freya Familia at all.”

She pointed her sword straight at Hegni, whose eyes widened as she placed her left hand on her chest.

“Lady Hestia’s fire…reached me, too.”

A warm light like a hearth had been lit inside her.

Even though she was not bound by oath, though she served a different mistress, she was still a retainer of the goddess of the hearth in that moment, and there was surety in her voice as she declared:

“She scorched away the power of the charm.”

As if that statement had been the trigger, a crowd began stirring outside the walls.

“Eh…what…?”

“Why is Rabbit Foot with Freya Familia…?!”

“Hold up, what is this weird memory?!”

The voices of people returning to their senses in the shopping district, no, everywhere at once all around the city gave birth to a rising tempest.

It was proof that the domain of the hearth had broken through the domain of beauty.

Sensing on his skin the rising tide of chaos and turbulent confusion, Hegni stood still for just a brief moment before two more figures leaped over the wall and descended from above.

“Argggh, I said something terrible to Argonaut, didn’t I?!”

“Bewitching all of us like that was a pretty shitty thing to do, you know…You’re going to explain yourselves now, right?”

Tiona had her Urga at the ready while Tione seethed as she leveled her twin kukri blades at Freya Familia alongside Aiz.

“Loki Familia…! It can’t be…Lady Freya’s charm has really been…?!”

That sight was enough to make even Hegni shudder.

Freya Familia, who had been so sure of their mistress’s absolute dominance, were thrust into confusion.

Disregarding their panic, Lyu somehow managed to regain her calm.

Facing the back of the swordswoman still covering her, she spoke.

“Sword Princess…to think I would be saved by you…”

Hearing that, Aiz suddenly turned around.

“Umm…where is Bell?”

“Wha?! Wh-why is the first question out of your mouth regarding Bell’s whereabouts?!”

“…? Should I not have?”

“I-I wouldn’t say that, but…actually, no, you shouldn’t have! I don’t know why, but you shouldn’t!”

“Why are you getting into it with each other now?!”

Aiz cocked her head in confusion as Lyu struggled to respond, and in the end, her calm went out the window with a red-faced shout, forcing Tione to be the voice of reason.

Hegni had frozen at the farce unfolding before him before his eyes flared.

“Be it truth or fiction, you have set foot in the goddess’s realm! Those who would barbarically disrupt it will be cut down!”

“All right, let’s do it, then! I’m reallllly pissed, too!”

Tiona spun her weapon over her head as she howled back at Hegni.

In an instant, the dark elf’s and Amazon’s weapons met with a crash while Aiz, Tione, and Lyu faced forward and began to engage the rest of Freya Familia, who raised a battle cry.

“—Tch?!”

A tremendous kick smashed into Allen’s silver spear.

“You really did a number on us, kitty cat…You can save us both the excuses ’cause I’m gonna murder you right now.”

“…Werewolf son of a bitch…”

Bete Loga was brimming with a savage ferocity with the moon at his back.

The location was the fifth district in the south of the city.

The force that Allen had been pulling back to the home had been stopped in their path with Folkvangr in sight by the other biggest faction in the city that could stand against them.

“Sheesh, Bete. Just like Aiz and the girls, not listenin’ to a thing I say. But just this once, I suppose I won’t just wait and watch.”

The single dwarf grumbled, but his eyes quickly narrowed.

“Aye, I won’t be satisfied if I don’t pummel your faces in before the Guild can stop us.”

“Elgarm…!”

“How was the goddess’s will repelled?!”

“That mysterious blaze just now must’ve been the cause.”

“Washed-up old dwarf!”

Right next to Allen and Bete, Gareth Landrock and the Gulliver brothers were staring each other down.

The dwarf was not holding a weapon, but his boulder-like fists rumbled heavily as the prum quadruplets expressed both shock and animosity.

As Van and the others gasped, the most hotheaded members of Loki Familia appeared one after the other, following Bete’s lead.

The fact that they had been manipulated lit a fire in the ferocious werewolf and the great dwarven warrior.

There was a furious clash of arms as a second battle opened.

The residents of Orario who had not yet recovered from the shock cried out in terror at the scene of a full-on conflict between familias exploding into the open.

“…No way…”

A single prum girl’s voice fell weakly, as if her heart had been ripped from her breast.

“No way, no way—no! It can’t be! Lilly, Lilly hurt him, hurt Mr. Bell…Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!”

“L-Lady Lilly?!”

An earsplitting scream rocked Hearthstone Manor to its foundations.

Mere moments had passed since the purifying flames appeared and burned away all the restraints binding them.

The shock of how she had treated the boy who’d saved her, whom she had fallen for and sworn never to betray again, was too great to bear. Remembering everything in a spew of memories flashing through her mind, Lilly collapsed onto the floor and screamed in a voice resembling a broken music instrument.

Mikoto grew pale as she recalled her own actions even as she rushed over to Lilly’s side…when there was another thud.

The sound of knees collapsing to the ground in another location.

“What…what did I…why…That’s…I’m…so terrible…”

“L…Lady Haruhime…”

The renart girl had slumped down to her knees, sitting on her heels, as tears overflowed from her empty eyes.

The opposite of Lilly, she was consumed by a quiet grief and slipped into a hell of self-deprecation as a chill gripped her heart so tightly as to freeze time in its tracks. Caught between two impossible despairs, Mikoto froze, unable to do anything.

“…Ghh.”

Beside them, Welf, who had been standing in dumbfounded shock, clenched his fists.

He was gripped by a nausea and self-loathing that did not pale in comparison to any of the others, but he turned the flames of that inward to force himself into action.

He walked over to Lilly, who was holding her small head in both hands and pressing her forehead to the floor as she kept apologizing over and over and over, and he grabbed both of her arms.

“Wake up, Li’l E! If you want someone to curse you, then I’ll give you all you want afterward!”

And as tears filled her chestnut-colored eyes, he hit her with it:

“If we don’t go save Bell now, he will be swallowed whole by that goddess!”

“—Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”

The next instant, her eyes widened beyond all limits, and a new high-frequency wave emanated from her.

Mikoto and Haruhime both twitched at the sign that the serious time was over.

“No, no, noooooooooooo! Corrupting a child like Mr. Bell with such extreme seduction! Lilly will protect Mr. Bell’s chastity—!!!”

“Then let’s go!”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Mr. Beeeeeeeeeeell!!!”

Welf’s timely anti-magic fire countered Lilly’s despair, setting her off with a screech as she immediately leaped from the room. Welf shouted at Haruhime and Mikoto, who were watching slack-jawed.

“You two, hurry it up! We’re a familia! We’re gonna go get him!”

“Ghh…Right!”

Haruhime wiped away her tears roughly and stood up on her own before running out as fast as she could, too.

Mikoto snapped out of it and frantically continued after Welf.

Lilly and Haruhime took up the vanguard while Welf and Mikoto left the home close behind them.

The Eastern girl could not tell whether she was moping in regret or overcome with emotion as she flashed a clumsy smile at the blacksmith she was running alongside.

And as if she could not restrain herself, she slapped Welf’s back and accelerated.

Welf smiled back and shouted as he swung his arms:

“Just you wait for us, Bell!”

“Uwaaaa…How many times is it now that I’ve caused Bell trouble…?”

In a mostly empty drugstore.

A listless chienthrope girl’s voice fell.

“I seriously want to just die…”

“Don’t say stupid things like that! We have no choice but to repay what we owe now!”

Nahza was utterly aghast with herself as Daphne grabbed her by the prosthetic hand and pulled her outside.

Miach chased after the two of them as well as they ran toward the obvious place.

“Even a god committed such a folly. Do not avert your eyes, we must act now!”

“Uwaaah, the prophecy was trueeeee! I saw it in my dream, so why didn’t I stand by him?!”

Cassandra clutched her staff to her chest and ran even as their patron god, who so rarely raised his voice, shouted.

The tragic seer was crying for a different reason from everyone else as Miach Familia embarked on the same mission as Hestia Familia.

“He was cornered in such a precarious position again…! Just being his shield won’t be enough to make up for this!”

“Even so, let’s go! To help Bell!”

Ouka and Chigusa ran down Main Street while readying their weapons.

The rest of Takemikazuchi Familia continued after them.

“Well now, I’ve experienced my share of shameful lows since coming down to the mortal realm, but…this takes it to a new level!”

Despite having only the same physical abilities as an average person, Takemikazuchi was sprinting at incredible speed across the roofs of buildings like a ninja.

“S-stop! Stop all of the familias running wild!”

Inside Guild Headquarters, which was stirring as everyone regained their memories, the Guild head, Royman, was screaming frantically.

“Protect Freya Familia!!! Send out the order to halt all fighting!”

“What?! But, sir, surely, we can’t forgive what Freya Familia did. I mean, what if it happens again after we let them off this time…?”

“That’s all secondary! If powerful factions, particularly Loki Familia and Freya Familia, butt heads in the city, Orario will be swallowed in a sea of fire!”

“Eeeep?!”

Misha interjected on hearing the order she could barely believe, but she shrieked at the furious shout that Royman fired right back at her.

Royman had plenty to say about being manipulated by Freya’s charm, too, but he was calmer than anyone else and more worried than anyone else. More precisely, he sensed the all-out clash brewing between Loki and Freya that would be more dangerous than anything Orario had ever witnessed, and he was trembling in fear because it seemed to be getting more likely with every passing moment.

He leaped into action to extinguish the fuse on an explosive situation that made the Orario destruction plot, which they could remember now that the charm had been broken, mild in comparison. Realizing the gravity of the situation, the rest of the Guild employees paled and started moving.

“We have to stop them…! If not, I’m going to need even more medicine for my stomach…!”

Grabbing his stomach with one hand, Royman staggered.

As the Guild master, he was desperately trying to remain calm.

And on top of that, he knew better than almost anyone just how impossible it was to stop rough and wild adventurers in a situation like that.

“E-Eina! I’m not sure how to feel about it, but we should probably do what he…!”

Misha’s peach hair swayed as she turned around.

“Ah, she’s gone…”

Her half-elf colleague and friend had long since disappeared, rushing out of the headquarters.

Rage, fear, shock, panic.

While all the people and deities living in the giant Labyrinth City were consumed by various emotions, by coincidence, they ended up in the same situation as Freya Familia.

In other words, by being charmed and then having it released, they were aware of the false input and could grasp the situation without having it explained to them.

“The only one who could do this is Goddess Freya! On the last day of the Goddess Festival, she charmed all of us…!”

Her memories from around when the charm had been applied were unclear. But just as the deities and the more perceptive people had realized, Eina immediately realized that there was only one suspect who could perform such an act.

Running down Main Street, which was stirring with confusion, leaving behind the people of the city still struggling to figure out what had happened to them, Eina shouted as her breathing grew ragged.

“I won’t forgive her! I won’t forgive the goddess who made this happen! Who did this to Bell, and to me!”

Her emerald eyes filled with water, which glimmered as it spilled over.

“I’m gonna kill those bastards!”

“W-wait, Aisha! Calm down!”

“I’m begging you, don’t go picking a fight with Freya Familia!”

“No! They don’t get to get away with this!!!”

The Amazon’s eyes were bloodshot, and waves of rage were billowing off her as Falgar and Lulune tried to stop her.

Not only had she been manipulated, but the renart who was like a little sister to her had been wounded before her eyes. She shook off their hands and dashed off.

From different directions, the half-elf and the Amazon both set their sights on the same place.

“Folkvangr!”

Eina and Aisha and all the adventurers from Aiz onward had acted almost immediately.

Pushed by rage or by a desire to protect their bond with a certain boy, they gathered at the home of the strongest faction in the south of the city.

Banners were waving in the wind.

Dozens of familia banners were fluttering in the wind surrounding Folkvangr.

“Is this really okay, Milady? Taking positions before Freya Familia’s castle with the full familia?”

“It is. We have more than sufficient cause to merit it.”

The master smith Tsubaki Collbrande’s question was answered by a Hephaistos whose voice was filled with wrath.

They stood atop the wall that surrounded the great field, at the head of Hephaistos Familia, which had deployed almost all their members, including the master smiths, who were a match for upper-tier adventurers.

Hephaistos was glaring at the manor built at the top of the hill in the center of the field, as if she fully intended to siege it.

“This cannot be allowed to stand. Even setting aside standing with Hestia and all of that…you’re going to have to pay for this, Freya.”

Tsubaki’s expression showed just a little bit of fear at seeing her patron goddess so infuriated—the wrath of the goddess of the forge that had made countless goddesses cry in the heavens—before she shrugged in acceptance.

“Serves you damn right, Freyaaaaaaaaaaa! This is what ya get for actin’ all high and mighty! Time for a super-ultra burst storm of destruction that’ll blow you away, you sex-crazed idiot!”

“Calm down please, Loki…”

While Hephaistos Familia surrounded the south and the west, Loki Familia had deployed along the eastern and northern perimeter. As their patron goddess stood atop the wall and roared with laughter, her eyes gleaming in rage, Finn pressed his small hand to his forehead.

“Why did you have to make me go all goggle-eyed and babbling while I did everything you wanted, you piece of shit?! Even after I warned you to never use that while we were in the heavens, ya damned fool!”

Looking askance at his patron goddess, who was ultimately just enraged at the humiliation of being ensnared by Freya’s charm, Finn tapped the haft of his spear on his shoulder, holding back an aggrieved sigh.

“I suppose one silver lining is at least Riveria was with the group that went into the Dungeon…If it became known a high elf could be controlled like this, it wouldn’t end in this city; no elf in the world would be able to look the other way at that.”

With that frightening thought, he looked around.

In addition to Loki Familia and Hephaistos Familia, there were also Miach, Takemikazuchi, and many other familias that had strong connections with Hestia Familia, all joining the ring around Folkvangr, a show of force and popular demonstration.

“Hey, Mord. Is this really okay? Getting mixed up in something like this…?”

“D-don’t get scared! Loki Familia’s here, too. Even if it’s Freya Familia, they’ll get their asses handed to them when they’re up against numbers like this! If that happens, we can just slip away in the chaos and swipe whatever money they’ve got hidden there…!”

There were even crooked adventurers with a keen sense for profit looking to turn a valis.

Shouting back at the adventurer who had come with him, Mord stared at the home.

“Better hurry up and give that kid back, or else we’ll all come crashing in!”

“Captain?!”

In a room in the manor.

Heith’s troubled voice rang out as she worked to heal Hörn.

“It can’t be…”

Ottar’s eyes widened at the scene outside the window.

“Lady Freya’s charm was broken…?”

Atop the hill.

Hedin, who was protecting the mansion, was struck by a true surprise.

The panicked gaze of all the other members turned to him when he took command.

It was not just the main gate, every wall was being overwhelmed, and the number of adventurers staring down at them undeniably outnumbered Freya Familia’s full forces.

“…I suppose it would be ridiculous to berate the ignorant masses. We were the first to trample dignity underfoot for the sake of fulfilling the goddess’s will.”

However, Hedin did not sweat a drop as he adjusted his glasses and struck the hill with the butt of his rhomphaia.

“But that will not change what must be done. My body is the goddess’s spear and shield. I will protect her from malice and scatter the enemy!”

The wise white elf’s face was filled with determination to fight, which quickly spread to the rest of the familia as well.

They were still einherjar.

As Hegni’s and Aiz’s groups continued to fight, their morale did not flag, and the explosive staring contest continued.

And—

““Ahnya!””

Voices rang out in The Benevolent Mistress.

“What’s going on meow?! I was just feeling annoyed at not being able to go after that boy with the nice butt because he was Freya Familia, but it was actually some kind of mind control, and he was a regular here and part of Hestia Familia! So then who does his butt belong to, meow?!”

“Just shut up, you! I can hardly believe I forgot everything after getting my ass kicked by Freya Familia…! Damn it!”

“Chloe, Runoa…you remember…?”

Ahnya was haggard as Chloe and Runoa burst into her room. Her two friends were seething with confusion and anger as they pressed in on her, but finally, there was unease and shock in their eyes as they asked.

“Syr…what happened to Syr?”

In the setting that the goddess had created, the blue-gray-haired girl did not exist.

Ahnya’s eyes slowly filled with tears at Runoa’s questions.

Her face warped as she buried her head in Runoa’s chest.

“H-hey! What are you doing?!”

“…Ahnya…?”

Ahnya cried out as she clung to Runoa.

Runoa was stunned and stood there weakly before slowly moving her arms, which had frozen awkwardly, holding Ahnya’s trembling back.

Chloe had a chastened look on her face as she moved closer to Ahnya, like an older sister licking a kitten.

Ahnya continued to sob silently.

“………”

Outside the open door.

Directly beside it, where the light from the room would not reach, Mia was leaning against the wall in the shadows, her arms crossed as she looked out the window.

“You really are a foolish woman…”

Her words and gaze were directed toward the goddess’s castle.

The adventurers’ fervor and the sounds of furious battle were obvious even from the goddess’s chamber on the highest floor.

Bell and Freya were stunned as they stood there frozen, looking out the enormous window that filled the whole wall.

“My charm was broken…? …If it were possible, then—”

The goddess’s stunned expression shifted as her brow furrowed in annoyance.

While Bell could not comprehend what was happening at all, just as Freya guessed what was going on—the enormous window shattered.

“Whaaaaaat?!”

Bell gasped in surprise as fragments of glass scattered all around.

And in the middle of that rain of glass, as Bell and Freya both covered their faces with their arms, he saw it.

The needle with a spiral engraved in it that had been fired at high speed to break the window.

And, of course—

“—Beeeeeeeeeeeell!!!”

“G-Goddess—ghagh?!”

The goddess was charging through the night sky, carried by four flapping wings.

Forcibly leaping from the arms of Asfi, who was controlling the talaria, Hestia dove head-first into Bell’s arms.

He reflexively caught her, but he was sent rolling by the force of her charge. And rolling. And rolling.

Asfi flew through overhead, flustered by the goddess who had just leaped from her arms while Freya stared in shock, and Bell held on firmly to her small body.

He finally came to a stop after exactly ten rolls across the floor, then he slowly sat up.

“…Goddess…?”

Hestia snapped her head up when she heard Bell’s quivering voice.

“—I’bm zo zorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry, Beeeeeeeeell! I acted so horribly to you! I’m a failure of a patron goddessssss! Please forgive me for being so powerless!”

The teary-eyed, sniffly goddess wrapped her arms around Bell’s neck, hugging him tight. While Hestia sobbed like a child, Asfi’s face twitched at the gap between how she had looked while unleashing the full force of her divinity and how she looked now.

That was when Bell realized it.

It must have been Hestia who had undone the charm afflicting the whole city, and she had always been trying to rescue him.

His eyes watered at the warmth of her hug, and he started to sniffle, too.

His face became as much of a mess as hers as he looked into her eyes and smiled from the depths of his heart.

“Thank you so much, Goddess!…I love you!”

“…Yeah, I love you, too!”

The follower and the goddess shared both tears and smiles.

Hugging one more time, they both stood up together.

They turned their gazes to the goddess of beauty, who was watching with a grim look.

“And with that, Freya! I will be taking my Bell back! Not yours! Mine! My beloved Bell with whom I have the deepest bond of anyone and with whom I share a mutual love!”

“G-Goddess…”

Bell looked forward and broke into a cold sweat as Hestia decided there of all places to assert her supremacy.

The empress, who had just had mud thrown in her face, looked clearly displeased.

She did not do something so clichéd as bite her nails, but she twirled her hair as she stared at Hestia and Bell holding hands.

“Unleashing your divine might to the full limit…using ichor and flames, you summoned your temple from the heavens…no, re-created it. So you still had a move to make, Hestia.”

Freya swiftly analyzed the information she had available to her, neither detesting Hestia for destroying her sandbox nor resenting her followers, who had allowed the situation to happen.

Her anger and disappointment were directed only at herself.

For allowing her heart to be so shaken by the boy’s trivial words and actions, for being so absorbed in her internal thoughts, for being so lax in her attention. If she had been her usual self, she would have noticed Hestia’s actions and Hermes’s vain struggle, and she would surely have stopped them in their tracks.

“Yeah, the full strength of my divine blessing that only the gods of Olympus know! It’s usually not any help at all and almost unusable to boot! But it’s just perfect for someone willing to try every trick in the book like you!”

Hestia accepted Freya’s grim gaze head-on.

“It’s all due to your halfheartedness, or rather, your kindness in not just sending me back to the heavens! You won’t be getting thanks from me, though!”

Hestia was definitely still upset because she was being more aggressive and cynical than usual.

Stuck on the outside looking in at the carnage of two goddesses fighting, Bell began twitching awkwardly. In fact, he was cowering. And Asfi, whom Hestia had gotten down on her knees to beg to bring her there, was laughing hoarsely. “Ha…ha-ha-ha…breaking into Freya Familia’s home…and smashing a goddess’s window to boot…I’m done for…”

Half out of her mind, she arrived at the same sort of despair, self-abandonment, and a sense that what will be will be that her patron god Hermes had achieved earlier.

“So…what now, Freya? No matter what you say, this is your loss. The spell you cast on Orario is broken, and Bell won’t become yours!”

With her charm failing to work on Bell, altering the rest of the world was the sort of last-ditch effort that could work only once.

Even if everyone around him rejected him because of Freya’s manipulations, Bell would not lose sight of himself again, and Hestia as the vestal goddess would not allow it to happen, either.

Having such an oppressive board state turned about and placed in check herself, Freya was expressionless.

Her arms hung limply.

“Where do you suppose the point of compromise should be, Loki?”

Atop the wall surrounding the palatial estate.

While Bete’s group and Allen’s force were fighting behind them and Hegni’s forces and Aiz’s group were clashing before them, Finn looked ahead as he questioned his patron goddess.

Standing beside him, Loki eyed Mord and the other adventurers sparked by Aiz, who might start pouring in at any moment.

“It really pisses me off…but the Guild won’t stand for a war that would rock Orario to its core. Even if we go wild right now, we won’t be able to reach any decisive conclusion.”

She could barely hear the Guild members, who had finally arrived from South Main Street and were desperately trying to order a halt to hostilities.

“But it’s impossible for adventurers to just set aside their pent-up anger.”

Finn spoke as if it was none of his business.

While he maintained the encirclement, his eyes were trained on the uppermost floor of the manor, where Perseus and what looked like a child-sized goddess had invaded Freya’s chambers.

“Then there’s only one thing to do.”

Looking in the same direction as her follower, Loki’s scarlet eyes opened slightly.

“A war game.”

“Hestia—I challenge you to a war game.”

““!!!””

Hestia’s and Bell’s eyes widened at that declaration.

Even Asfi looked up, forgetting herself as Freya continued calmly.

“If I lose, then I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll even accept being sent back to the heavens…And if I win, I will take Bell.”

“…Don’t screw with me, Freya. You really think I’ll accept a challenge in a situation like this? You’ve already lost, and you’re going to be judged for what happened.”

Hestia’s voice was low, and her eyes narrowed angrily, but the goddess of beauty was ever the arrogant empress.

“We will suffer a heavy penalty from the Guild. But that’s all.”

“Wh…!”

“Orario must accomplish the three great quests. They cannot afford to let us go to waste or forcibly break us up. You can bet on it. And once the heat of the moment has cooled sufficiently…my hand might slip again. I might just play another trick.”

“Ghh…!”

“Can you really live in peace with that thought always looming over you?”

Even while being right where Hestia wanted her, Freya still had her cornered, and Hestia was agitated even though she should have been in command. Bell was just as stunned.

Asfi’s silence spoke to the truth of what Freya was saying.

Everything slowed to a crawl.

However, they did not have any time to think.

There was a loud noise below, and the familia members who noticed the intruders were closing in.

“That is the true strength of my familia. The status that I have built up all this time.”

Her manner of speaking was haughty and shameless, but…

“And I will wager all of it. My wealth, fame, honor, and even myself.”

The three of them were struck by a second shock.

Freya was willing to bet it all, putting everything on the line in a war game.

If she lost, she would lose everything, becoming nothing more than a naked queen.

“You may have as many cooperators as you wish. You can even ally with all of the familias in the city. I will face everything you bring to bear with only my familia.”

She would even provide a handicap, demonstrating the extent of her resolve.

Casting down her crown, the goddess was looking at one person and one person alone.

“Let’s duel, Hestia…and Bell.”

Silence fell.

Their three gazes crossed and interlocked.

Asfi watched as an observer, gulping hard.

The first to speak was Hestia.

“Freya…I really do hate you. This just made it clear. I can’t sympathize with your way of doing things, and I can’t empathize with you.”

“………”

“Holding my followers hostage, hurting Bell…I resent you, and I will scorn you for eternity.”

“………”

“…But why are you so hung up on Bell? Why would you go so far?”

Hestia’s eyes flared with malice and contempt.

“Because you are a goddess of love? Is it really just that you’ve taken a shine to him? What has made you so desperate about this?”

Her gaze shifted from scorn to clarity. Hestia set aside her position and her dominion and was asking as a fellow goddess.

“Freya…what did you really want?”

There was no answer forthcoming.

The cool breeze from the broken window and the pale moonlight lit her profile as the silver-haired goddess looked downward ever so slightly.

To Bell, she looked almost like a lost child who did not know herself what it was that she wanted.

Sensing that the silence would never be broken, Hestia quietly sighed, and clenched the hand she was holding as she looked up to the boy beside her.

“Bell…what do you want to do?”

He was the greatest victim of all in this situation, as well as the goal that would be fought over in the coming days, so she left the decision to him.

Her eyes saying that she believed he was best suited to decide this.

Bell slowly released her hand and took a step forward.

“…If we win, will you also listen to my request?”

“…Very well. What do you want?” the goddess asked indifferently.

“Allow me to meet Syr once more. No.” He shook his head. “Please let me know the true you.”

“ ”

Her silver eyes widened, and she was speechless before finally averting her gaze.

Her hair quivered, and her expression became blank for a moment before she stared back at him.

“As you wish. I know not what truth it is that you are seeking, though.”

Mutual acceptance.

All the terms had been met.

And Perseus was the witness.

With the testimony of Hermes’s follower, the decision reached that day would become the city’s consensus.

“Lady Freya!”

The members of Freya Familia that had rushed up the stairs burst through the door at that same moment.

Freya quietly unleashed her divinity.

Her power shook the room like a wind, stopping the flood of adventurers pouring in in their tracks and causing them to drop their weapons. Even Hegni and the rest fighting outside paused in shock and looked up to the top floor of the home.

A stillness filled Orario, and combat ceased everywhere.

Aiz’s eyes widened; Lyu stood in shock; Hestia Familia, Loki Familia, and everyone else who had gathered all turned their gaze to the chamber where the goddesses were facing each other.

“Okay…then it’s a duel, Freya.”

Bell’s will.

And Freya’s resolve.

Accepting both of those, Hestia spoke in a voice that reached many ears.

“It’s a war game!”

Her shout reached the sky.

It was a proclamation.

Orario’s greatest ever war game.

The bell had rung, signaling the opening of what would later come to be called the Familia War.