∆∆∆∆
The sky over Rigel Castle was a pale, uncaring grey, casting a somber light over the cracked stone battlements of the ancient fortress.
Miles away, within the crowded amphitheaters of Orario, the massive divine mirrors hummed with magical energy, projecting the quiet wilderness surrounding the stronghold to a roaring, betting crowd of thousands of gods and citizens.
On the high walls of the castle, the adventurers of the Apollo Familia stood in pristine rows. They held heavy longbows and bladed weapons, their expressions dripping with the supreme arrogance of a household that outnumbered its opponents fifty to one. To them, this wasn't a war; it was a public execution.
A sharp, deafening blast of an iron horn echoed across the plains, tearing through the morning silence. The War Game had officially begun.
From the tree line, a single silhouette materialized, moving across the open field with an impossible, fluid grace that defied the heavy gravity of the situation. It was Ryuu. Her face was hidden beneath her green hood, but her hands were steady as she gripped the two magic swords at her hand.
"Intruder spotted at the front gate!" an Apollo archer screamed from the western tower. "It's just one! Draw your bows and paint the field with her!"
A rain of iron tipped arrows hissed through the air, descending upon the lone elf like a lethal shadow. Ryuu didn't even flinch. In a single, synchronized motion, she drew both of Welf's magic swords, crossing the blades before her chest.
"Be consumed." Ryuu whispered.
She swung the right blade in a violent, upward slash. A towering, roaring pillar of incandescent crimson fire erupted from the steel, completely incinerating the incoming cloud of arrows mid-air before tearing across the open grass.
Before the defenders could even scream, she unleashed the left blade.
A jagged, blinding arc of lightning violently arced forward, tracing the path of the flames.
The twin elemental forces slammed directly into the massive, stone wall of the castle.
The resulting explosion was catastrophic. The shockwave shattered the surrounding stone walls, sending a massive plume of white dust, flying deep into the outer courtyard.
The archers on the nearest towers were thrown from their perches by the sheer kinetic force, tumbling into the debris below.
Through the thick, burning curtain of smoke and ash, three figures bolted into the breach with their weapons drawn.
"Go, go, go!" Welf shouted, his heavy greatsword resting over his shoulder as he split away from the main path, charging toward the eastern barracks.
"Hey, you sun-baked cowards! Is this the best defense your god could build? My grandmother throws a better party than this!"
"Insolent fools! Cut them down!" an Apollo squad leader roared, waving a silver saber as twenty heavily armed vanguard members rushed down the stone stairs to intercept them. "They only have a handful of fighters! Surround them!"
"We must divide their focus." Mikoto said calmly, her eyes scanning the chaotic courtyard before she darted toward the western winding corridors, her sandals clicking sharply against the stone. "Follow me if you seek a honorable battle, warriors of the sun!"
Within seconds, the Hestia Familia's vanguard had shattered into three distinct directions, intentionally leaving a trail of loud taunts, shattered windows, and structural sabotage in their wake.
The pride of the Apollo Familia worked entirely against them.
Enraged by the sudden, violent breach and the sheer audacity of the tiny strike team, entire platoons abandoned their defensive high grounds, blindly chasing the intruders deep into the winding, claustrophobic corridors of the lower castle.
Meanwhile, inside the primary command tower, the chaotic clattering of armor and distant shouting echoed through the stone halls.
"Report! What is happening at the eastern wall?!" an elite Apollo mage demanded, his staff glowing as he ran down the corridor with his squad. "Where is the captain?!"
"Sir! Sir!" a frantic, high-pitched voice cried out from the stairwell.
Out from the shadows stumbled Luan, the small Pallum assistant to Hyakinthos. His hair was disheveled, his face smeared with soot, and his eyes were wide with what looked like pure, unadulterated panic. He was panting heavily, clutching his chest as he pointed frantically back toward the central plaza.
"Luan? What are you doing away from the captain's side?" the mage snapped.
"The captain... Captain Hyakinthos has issued an emergency mandate!" Lili screamed, her voice a flawless, terrifyingly accurate imitation of the arrogant Pallum boy. She forced a drop of sweat to roll down her cheek for theatrical effect. "The vanguard was a trick! They are setting magical explosives in the lower foundations to bring the whole keep down! The captain orders all squads—every single active blade—to abandon the walls immediately! We are corralling them into the grand central courtyard for a final execution! If you don't move now, he'll have your heads on a pike!"
The mage hesitated for a fraction of a second, but another distant explosion from Ryuu's magic swords shook the floor beneath their feet, sealing the deception.
"Curse it all! You heard him! Forget the battlements! Every unit, redirect to the central courtyard now! Don't let them escape the plaza!"
Lili watched them sprint away, a small, cold smirk briefly breaking through her magical disguise before she turned on her heel to repeat the lie to the next platoon.
The trap was closing with terrifying mathematical precision. Driven by false orders, bruised pride, and total confusion, the scattered forces of the Apollo Familia began to funnel out of the corridors, pouring into the massive, high walled central courtyard from every single arched entryway.
Over eighty adventurers, heavily armed but completely disorganized, packed into the cobblestone square, creating a dense, claustrophobic sea of brass and steel.
"Wait a minute..." an Apollo veteran muttered, looking around the crowded plaza as the gates behind them suddenly slammed shut, barred from the outside by a heavy iron rod thrown by Welf. "Where are the intruders? Why are we all gathered here?"
From the center of the vast, silent courtyard, a hundred meters away from them, a single figure stepped out from the shadows of a giant stone statue.
Mikoto stood alone against the army of eighty men. Her dark hair swayed slightly in the wind, her right hand resting firmly on the wrapped hilt of her sheath. Her eyes were entirely devoid of fear, replaced by the unbreakable, quiet resolve of a samurai who knew exactly what her family required of her.
"There she is! The Far East girl!" a scout shouted, pointing his blade at her. "She's cornered! Finish her!"
The massive crowd of adventurers surged forward, their heavy boots trampling the cobblestones as they closed the distance, their weapons raised to crush her beneath a mountain of steel.
Mikoto closed her eyes, letting out a long, slow breath that misted in the cold air. She dropped her weight into a deep, perfectly centered stance. The air around her frame began to violently vibrate, a deep purple, luminescent magic circle erupting from the stone beneath her feet, its ancient runes spinning with immense, crushing pressure.
Mikoto started her chant without wasting another moment, her voice a clear, resonant bell that cut through the thunderous roar of the oncoming army. Until finally, she released it.
•Futsunomitama!•
∆∆∆∆
Inside the grand amphitheater of the Pantheon, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of spilled wine, expensive fruits, and the electric hum of absolute disbelief.
The divine mirrors hovering above the mahogany conference table projected the scene at Rigel Castle in pristine, unforgiving detail.
The roaring, chaotic cheers that had filled the hall only moments prior had completely died out, replaced by a heavy, suffocating silence.
Apollo had risen so quickly from his ornate chair that he had sent his golden goblet clattering across the marble floor, the rich red nectar staining the pristine stone like fresh blood.
His face, usually a mask of flawless, theatrical arrogance, was entirely pale. His manicured hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that the polished wood groaned under his divine pressure.
"What... what is the meaning of this?!" Apollo shrieked, his voice cracking into a high pitched, desperate registers as he stared at the glowing image of Mikoto's massive purple magic circle. "Luan! What is that useless boy doing?! Who authorized them to gather in the courtyard like livestock?!"
Hestia just let out a satisfied smile, letting the events play out while everyone around her—especially Apollo—lose their mind.
"My my, aren't this interesting." Hermes chuckled from the head of the table, leaning forward so far his traveler's hat nearly fell off his head. He adjusted his coat, his eyes sparkling with a terrifying amount of amusement as he watched the absolute breakdown of the Apollo Familia's chain of command.
"Aha! Ahahaha! Look at 'em go!" Loki howled, leaning back in her seat and slapping her knee with enough force to echo through the entire Pantheon. She pointed a mocking finger directly at Apollo's trembling frame. "Hey, Apollo! Your shiny little vanguard's got the situational awareness of a blind gargoyle! They got herded up like sheep in a pen! A siege?! They didn't even need a ladder, ya absolute moron!"
Hephaestus simply let out a long, slow sigh of relief, a small, proud smile touching her lips as she watched Welf bar the courtyard gates on the screen.
"Incredible. They turned the entire architecture of the fortress against the defenders."
Meanwhile, over at the room of the Twilight Manor, the elite executives of the Loki Familia were gathered around a localized projection mirror.
Despite the scene in front of them, none of the first-class adventurers shifted their gaze from the unfolding tactical disaster.
Tiona was practically vibrating with excitement as she bounced on the bed.
"Wow! Did you see that elf girl go?! She just blew that portion of the wall into toothpicks with those swords! Welf-chan really outdid himself this time!"
"It wasn't just the swords, Tiona." Tione murmured, her arms crossed as her sharp eyes tracked Mikoto's stance on the screen. "Look at the timing. They didn't just attack; they executed a synchronized psychological fracture. They used the Apollo Familia's own arrogance to pull them off the walls. It's disgusting how clean it was."
Finn sat still on the sofa, his thumb lightly biting against his lip—a subconscious habit whenever his tactical mind was operating. His eyes were narrowed, entirely focused on the purple runes expanding across the Rigel Castle plaza.
"The Pallum girl, Lili, was the lynchpin." Finn stated, his voice carrying the calm, terrifying weight of a commander. "To memorize the speech patterns and authority structure of the opponent's command staff under that level of stress, and then use it to actively poison their communications... she completely neutralized a numerical advantage of a hundred to one without swinging a single blade. Outstanding."
Beside him, Ais sat in absolute silence. Her golden hair caught the faint light of the mirror, her expression calm, but her eyes were fixed on the perimeter of the courtyard, searching the shadows of the castle blueprint.
"Yuuya... isn't down there yet."
"He's waiting." Riveria remarked quietly, her elegant hands rested into her lap as she observed the magical density of Mikoto chanting. "The Far East girl was likely the most important person on their plan. Once she locks them down, her job is complete. The stage is being set for a singular, decisive strike."
∆∆∆∆
Back at Rigel Castle, the answer came with the weight of a collapsing mountain.
As the final syllable of the ancient incantation left Mikoto's lips, the violet color of her magic showed itself.
BOOM.
The air within the grand courtyard instantly turned a dark, bruised violet. The charging adventurers of the Apollo Familia didn't even have the time to register the shift in atmosphere before the invisible, crushing hand of Futsunomitama slammed directly into their helmets and shoulder plates.
The effect was instantaneous and absolute. Weapons clattered uselessly against the stones as knees buckled, breastplates groaned under the sudden, change in gravity atmospheric pressure, and the entire group of adventures was violently flattened face first against the ancient cobblestones.
The grand army of the Apollo familia was entirely immobilized, pinned to the earth like insects beneath a heavy stone, leaving the grand courtyard wide open for the final descent.
Inside the heavy, violet tinted atmosphere of Futsunomitama, the silence was broken only by the rhythmic, agonizing groans of eighty armored men pinned flat against the stone. The sheer, gravitational pressure generated by Mikoto had turned the grand courtyard of Rigel Castle into a localized gravitational singularity.
Then, the heavy iron barred doors at the rear of the plaza clicked.
Through the dust and the violet haze, Yuuya appeared. He moved with a casual, unbothered stride, his hands resting loosely at his sides while the long tails of his Goliath Scarf drifted lazily behind him.
He didn't avoid the bodies of the immobilized Apollo Familia adventurers; instead, he simply stepped directly onto their brass pauldrons, iron greaves, and dented helmets, using the backs of his enemies as literal stepping stones.
He didn't look down at them. His gaze was fixed entirely in the empty space at the absolute center of the courtyard.
When his boots finally touched the central cobblestones, Yuuya stopped.
He didn't draw Kurotsuki. He merely stood perfectly straight, closed his eyes, and parted his lips.
His voice wasn't a roar, but it carried a cold, absolute resonance that instantly bypassed the localized thunder of Mikoto's gravity magic, echoing clearly through the divine projection mirrors across the city of Orario.
•Blessing of the root of evil, curse of birth.•
Yuuya chanted, his tone flat and devoid of any human warmth.
•My original sin that devoured half of my body. It's not hard. There is no purification. There is no salvation.•
With every syllable that left his mouth, the temperature in the courtyard plummeted. The violent purple mana of Mikoto's spell began to warp, drawn toward his frame like water down a drain.
•The resonance of this heavenly sound is my sin. The trumpet of gods, the lyre of spirits...•
As the chant reached its exact midpoint, the massive, ethereal silver bell appeared above Yuuya. It hung suspended in the air like a monument of pure, condensed starlight, its massive silver surface engraved with ancient, forbidden runes that pulsed with a terrifying, rhythmic hum.
At the balcony of the Loki Familia's headquarters, the casual, analytical atmosphere evaporated in a single, collective intake of breath.
Riveria's breath hitched, her hand flying to her chest as a profound, visible shudder racked her entire noble framework.
Her emerald eyes dilated to the size of pinpricks as she stared at the giant silver bell towering.
"No..." Riveria whispered, her voice trembling with a rare, deep-seated dread that her children had never heard before. "That bell... that absolute, freezing weight... So he even has that spell of hers, huh..."
Tiona turned away from the mirror, blinking in sheer confusion at the high elf's unprecedented panic.
"Eh? Riveria? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost! What is that big shiny bell?"
Finn didn't answer immediately. His thumb was biting so hard into his lower lip that a small bead of blood formed. His typical calm, calculated demeanor was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, historical gravity.
"An adventurer from the past era, Tiona." Finn explained, his voice low and sharp as steel. "A member of the Hera Familia. The strongest, most terrifying spellcaster to ever walk the streets of Orario, perhaps even the world, before the Dark Ages claimed them. Known across the world by her alias, 'Silence'."
Riveria clenched her first, her knuckles turning bone white.
"Alfia... of the Hera Familia."
"Alfia?!" Tione gasped, her arms dropping to her sides as her mind raced through the legendary logs of the city's history. "The one who..."
"Yes." Riveria interrupted, her eyes never leaving Yuuya's serene, chanting face on the screen. "The magic you are looking at right now is Genos Angelus. It is the exact same spell that she used to land the final blow against the Leviathan—the ruler of the deep seas and one of the Three Great Quest monsters. If he unleashes the full weight of that chime inside that courtyard, I'm afraid that the entire Apollo Familia will be reduced to nothing but a memory."
Inside the grand assembly hall of the Denatus, the transformation was instantaneous.
Apollo's knees completely gave out. He slid out of his chair, collapsing onto the marble floor as he stared up at the divine mirror. The reflection of the massive silver bell filled his wide, panicked eyes. The arrogant, triumphant cackle that had defined his week was completely strangled in his throat, replaced by a pathetic, breathless whimper.
"Stop it..." Apollo whispered, his hands shaking as he reached toward the screen. "Stop it! Hestia! Call him off! He's going to murder them! He's going to kill every single one of my children! That's not an adventurer... that's a demon!"
(Author: and you? I can't even begin as to what to describe you.)
Loki, who had been laughing hysterically only a minute prior, was now frozen solid in her seat. Her narrow eyes had snapped completely wide open, staring at the screen with an uncharacteristic, deadpan expression. The casual amusement had been entirely erased from her face.
"Hey... shorty." Loki said, her voice dropping into a raspy, deadly serious whisper as she looked over at Hestia. "Where the hell did ya find a monster like that? That kid isn't just fast. That's the ghost of the Old World he's pulling out of his chest."
Hestia didn't answer. Her eyes are still glued to her first child, looking at him with awe and instinctual terror. Nevertheless, she trusts that Yuuya won't break his promise.
Hermes stood in the center of the room, the playful grin completely wiped from his features. He stared at Yuuya's silhouette beneath the giant silver bell, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck.
'Yuuya Mitsukuji...' Hermes thought. 'Who are you really? To inherit the absolute, unmitigated wrath of the Silence... what kind of destiny is locked inside your soul?'
Back at Rigel Castle, entirely unbothered by the terror rippling through the upper world, Yuuya opened his eyes, the cold, silver light of the bell tower reflecting perfectly within his dark pupils as he delivered the final lines of the chant.
•The melody of light, that is, the mark of my sins. Loved by the miniature garden, my destiny is shattered. I hate you. The compensation is here. Destroy everything with the proof of my sin.•
Yuuya raised his right hand, his fingers spreading wide beneath the gargantuan silver structure and then—
•Cry, holy bell tower.•
He swung his hand down.
•Genos Angelus.•
The colossal silver bell suspended over the central courtyard of Rigel Castle gave a single, heavy tilt. Then, it swung.
The sound that followed was not a standard explosive blast, but a deep, crystalline resonance that tore through the atmosphere.
For ten grueling seconds, the bell tower tolled continuously, sending visible, ripples of shockwave or sound cascading across the cobblestones.
Mikoto stood well beyond the hundred-meter perimeter of the primary kill zone, but even at a safe distance, the sheer pressure of Genos Angelus forced her to plant her feet and shield her face.
The air itself felt dense, vibrating so intensely that her teeth clicked together, and the stone walls surrounding the plaza began to develop microscopic, web-like fractures.
It wasn't a spell of physical heat, but an absolute acoustic weight that demanded submission from everything it touched.
When the final vibration of the tenth second faded into the distance, the grand courtyard fell completely silent.
The eighty adventurers of the Apollo Familia remained on the ground, but the violent gravity pinning them down was no longer necessary.
Every single one of them was entirely unconscious, their bodies slumped awkwardly over one another.
If one were to look closely through the clearing dust, thin lines of dark crimson were trickling from their noses, mouths, and ears—their internal equilibriums completely shattered by the sonic frequency.
They were alive, but when they finally regained consciousness, they'll wish they are dead as they would be greeting the mother of all headaches.
Inside the Denatus, a massive, simultaneous rush of exhaled breath echoed through the divine assembly hall. Dozens of gods slumped back into their chairs, wiping cold sweat from their brows.
For a terrifying moment, they truly believed they were about to witness a live, televised slaughter of a major household.
Apollo remained on the floor, trembling violently as he stared at his breathing, yet utterly defeated, children. He couldn't even find the words to complain; the sheer relief that his Familia hadn't been reduced to ash left him entirely hollow.
Over at the Twilight Manor, the executives of the Loki Familia slowly relaxed their tensed postures. Tiona let out a loud, dramatic whistle, shaking her head.
"Wow... talk about precise control. To drop a spell like that and leave everyone breathing? That guy is ridiculous."
Gareth, leaned his massive arms against the balcony railing, his thick beard twitching as he took a deep pull from his stone mug. He let out a low, gruff huff, his dark eyes fixed on Yuuya's casual silhouette.
"Aye," Gareth grunted, his deep voice carrying a grim trace of memory. "But we'd better pray to the heavens that the lad only inherited her magic, and not her personality or attitude. One Alfia walkin' the world with that icy, god hating scowl was more than enough for one lifetime. If this brat starts actin' like the Maiden of Silence too, Orario's gonna need a lot more than a War Game to save itself."
Back in the quieted courtyard, Mikoto finally let go of her stance. The purple runes of Futsunomitama dissolved into thin air, and she leaned forward slightly, catching her breath as the heavy drain of the casting caught up to her.
"Superb execution, Mikoto. Well done." a calm voice called out.
Yuuya walked back from the center of the plaza, entirely unbothered by the absolute devastation behind him.
From the auxiliary entrances, the rest of the Hestia Familia quickly converged on their position.
Ryuu slid her wooden sword into her sash, Lili dropped her magical disguise to return to her normal Pallum form again, and Welf jogged up with his greatsword resting comfortably on his shoulder.
The team was fully assembled, and the outer perimeter of Rigel Castle was completely cleared.
Yuuya stopped directly in front of Bell. He looked down at the white-haired boy, his dark eyes searching the rookie's face for any lingering hesitation.
"The board is clear, Bell." Yuuya said, his voice quiet but commanding. "The army is gone. Are you ready?"
Bell gripped the hilt of Elucidator at his waist, his crimson eyes burning with absolute focus. He took a sharp, definitive breath and nodded. "Yes. Let's go."
"Then let's go pay the captain a visit." Yuuya muttered, turning toward the heavy oak doors leading into the castle's primary keep.
The trek through the interior corridors of Rigel Castle was less of a tactical infiltration and more of a high-speed cleaning service.
While Hyakinthos had kept his core elites near the inner sanctum, there were still numerous stragglers, scouts, and guards stationed along the grand staircases and narrow hallways. But none of them managed to mount a defense. In fact, none of them even managed to finish a sentence.
Thwack.
An Apollo swordsman leaped out from a blind corner, his rapier raised, only for Yuuya to vanish from his field of vision entirely. A fraction of a second later, a precise, heavy chop delivered to the side of the guard's neck sent him crashing face first into the stone floor, completely out cold.
Three more guards blocked the top of a grand staircase, their shields raised in a defensive wall. Yuuya didn't even slow his stride. He didn't stretch out his arm this time, he just faced the direction of the guards and uttered the chant of his spell.
•Gospel•
A sharp, invisible shockwave erupted, slamming into the heavy shields with the force of a battering ram. The three guards were instantly lifted off their feet, blasted backward through a set of double doors, and knocked unconscious before they even hit the wall.
Welf paused at the base of the stairs, his jaw slightly slack as he watched another pair of defenders get systematically deleted before he could even raise his own sword. He let out a breathless, exasperated laugh, looking over at Ryuu.
"Whoa... hold on a minute." Welf muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't even keep up with his speed. Are we sure he's actually a Level 3? Because it feels like he's running on a completely different clock than the rest of us."
"His movements possess no wasted energy." Ryuu observed, her eyes tracking the precise, fluid trajectory of Yuuya's strikes. "He is not just faster; he is operating with absolute efficiency."
As they cleared the threshold of the upper balcony, a sharp, authoritative voice cut through the quiet corridor.
"Stand down, intruders!"
Daphne stood at the end of the long hallway, her swords drawn and in a defensive guard. Her expression was pale, her teeth grit in clear frustration, but her stance remained unyielding.
She knew what had happened in the courtyard, and she knew the odds, but her loyalty to her household kept her anchored to the floorboards.
Welf stepped forward, sliding his heavy broadsword off his shoulder and planting the tip against the floor.
He cracked his neck, a confident, easygoing grin spreading across his face as he looked at Yuuya and Bell.
"Hey, Yuuya, Bell, go on ahead." Welf said, gesturing toward the heavy ornamental doors at the end of the hall that clearly led to the captain's quarters. "I've been standing around watching the Yuuya show for the last twenty minutes and my legs are getting stiff. I want to move around a bit, so I'll take care of this one."
Yuuya didn't stop walking, merely passing Welf with a brief nod. "Don't take too long, Welf. The main event is right behind these doors."
"Please." Welf chuckled, his eyes locking onto Daphne as Bell and the others sprinted past the confrontation. "I'll be right behind you."
∆∆∆∆
The heavy, gilded double doors of the castle's innermost solar shattered inward under the force of a synchronized breach.
Inside the opulent room, the air was thick with the scent of burning incense and panic. Hyakinthos stood at the far end of the chamber, surrounded by a desperate perimeter of his remaining ten elite guards.
The sounds of Yuuya's Genos Angelus down in the courtyard had clearly reached the upper tower; the captain's face was a mask of volatile rage and raw, unadulterated stress.
"You miserable, low-born insects!" Hyakinthos spat, his eyes locking instantly onto Bell. He drew his elegant, gem-encrusted straight sword, his hand trembling slightly with a mixture of pride and fear. "How dare you defile this sacred ground! Do not just stand there, you fools! Kill them! Tear them limb from limb!"
The remaining Apollo elites lunged forward, their weapons bared, but the strike team was already moving.
"Leave the vanguard to us, Cranel-san!" Mikoto shouted, her katana clearing its sheath with a sharp hiss as she intercepted a charging halberdier.
Ryuu vanished into a blur of green wind, her wooden sword instantly striking the wrists and temples of two guards simultaneously, disarming them before they could even register her movement. Lili slunk along the perimeter, her hand crossbow loaded with tracking darts, keeping the remaining casters pinned behind the plush divans.
Seeing his personal guard instantly neutralized, Hyakinthos' eyes darted toward the massive arched window behind him. The open wilderness outside was a drop, but for an adventurer of his level, it was a viable escape route. He spun on his heel, his cape billowing as he leapt toward the stone sill.
"You're not running this time." Bell said, his voice entirely devoid of its usual timidness.
Bell extended his left hand toward the ceiling directly above the window frame. He didn't need an incantation. He didn't need time.
•Firebolt•
A blinding, condensed lance of crimson lightning erupted from Bell's palm, bypassing the fleeing captain and slamming directly into the primary load bearing archway of the tower's outer wall. The magical explosion was immediate and violent.
The stone structure buckled, the ceiling groaned under the sudden displacement, and the entire eastern half of the room collapsed downward in a thunderous avalanche of fracturing marble, heavy oak beams, and thick, choking white mortar dust.
As the roar of the collapse died down, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence hanging over the ruined solar. The ceiling had completely caved in, exposing the grey, overcast sky above.
A thick, impenetrable curtain of white dust blanketed the entire area, reducing visibility to less than an arm's length.
From within the center of the debris, a heavy pile of shattered stone shifted. Hyakinthos coughed violently, dragging himself out from beneath a broken pillar. His laurels were gone, his face was smeared with gray ash, and his breathing was ragged.
He pushed himself to his feet, gripping his sword with both hands, his eyes frantically scanning the shifting fog.
"Where are you?!" Hyakinthos screamed into the haze, his voice echoing off the broken walls. "Come out and face me, you pathetic rabbit!"
The answer came not as a voice, but as a sudden, terrifying distortion in the curtain of dust.
A sharp, whistling wind cut through the fog as a silhouette descended from above, moving with a velocity that shattered the air density. Hyakinthos raised his blade just in time to catch a devastating downward strike.
CLANG.
The impact sent a violent shockwave through the rubble, blowing the surrounding dust away in a perfect circle. Hyakinthos' knees buckled, his boots sliding back several inches across the cracked floorboards. He looked up, his teeth gritted, and found himself staring directly into Bell's glowing ruby eyes.
In Bell's right hand was Elucidator while in his left, gripped in a reverse defensive hold, was the red-hued blade of Ushiwakamaru.
"You've gotten slow, Hyakinthos." Bell murmured, his arms completely locked in place, holding the captain down by sheer physical weight.
"Shut up! Shut your mouth!" Hyakinthos roared, his face flushing crimson with humiliation.
With a desperate burst of strength, Hyakinthos deflected the black longsword and launched into a furious, highbspeed flurry of thrusts. His blade became a blur of light, targeting Bell's throat, chest, and eyes with the precise, lethal choreography that had easily defeated the rookie back in the streets of Orario weeks ago.
But this was no longer the same boy.
Bell's feet danced across the broken masonry with effortless agility. He didn't take a single step backward.
Using the superior reach and weight of Elucidator, he executed a series of flawless, microscopic parries, the black steel clashing against the silver blade with a rhythmic, metallic ring.
Simultaneously, Ushiwakamaru flickered in his left hand like a crimson tongue, slicing through Hyakinthos' defensive guards, leaving deep, clean scores across the captain's torso.
The disparity in their growth was staggering. To Hyakinthos, it felt like he was swinging against a solid brick wall that was simultaneously moving like lightning.
Every time he tried to step into a high-tier sword technique, Bell's longsword was already there, stifling his momentum before the strike could mature.
"Impossible..." Hyakinthos wheezed, his muscles burning as he barely parried a vicious horizontal slash from the black longsword. "You were nothing but a common gutter rat! A Level 2 fluke! How are you reading my movements?! How are you matching my pace?!"
Bell didn't answer, he simply kept swinging.
Just then, Bell stepped deep into Hyakinthos' personal space, his center of gravity perfectly aligned. He spun Elucidator in a tight, vertical circle, engaging the captain's guard in a high leverage bind.
With a sharp twist of his wrists, Bell forced Hyakinthos' sword arm upward, completely exposing his torso. Before the captain could recover his footing, Bell drove the pommel of Ushiwakamaru directly into the center of Hyakinthos chest.
Thud.
The sound of a blunt object meeting the body was heard through the silence. Hyakinthos let out a breathless gasp as the air was violently driven from his lungs. He stumbled backward, his balance completely destroyed, his blade held up in a weak, trembling defensive position.
Bell didn't give him a single second to breathe. He gripped Elucidator with both hands, his white hair catching the pale light from the sky as he brought the black longsword down in a final, absolute executioner's arc.
SHATTER.
The impact was definitive. The sword of the Apollo Familia's captain exploded into a dozen jagged, glittering fragments under the crushing weight of the black steel.
The force of the blow carried through the hilt, violently snapping Hyakinthos' wrists back.
The black blade stopped exactly one millimeter above Hyakinthos' forehead, the cold, aura of the weapon freezing the captain in place.
Hyakinthos stood frozen for a fraction of a second, staring up at the dark steel and the unyielding eyes of the boy he had once mocked. His knees gave out entirely, and he collapsed forward. His pride and ego completely broken.
As he remained dropped on his knees in the dust, staring blankly at the shattered, glittering remnants of his sword scattered across the rubble. His hands, still gripping the useless, hilt, trembled violently.
The cold edge of the black longsword, Elucidator, hovered a mere millimeter from his forehead, as a quiet, menacing weight.
From the edges of the ruined solar, the rest of the Hestia Familia stood in absolute silence.
Yuuya leaned casually against a half collapsed marble archway, his arms crossed, his dark eyes observing the scene with a completely unbothered, calculating gaze.
Beside him, Ryuu, Mikoto, and Lili stood poised, their weapons lowered but their bodies alert, patiently waiting for Bell to deliver the final, definitive stroke to conclude the War Game.
But the silence didn't last. The sheer, crushing weight of his absolute defeat completely broke something inside Hyakinthos' mind. The fanatical devotion, the bruised ego, and the overwhelming jealousy that had been festering within his chest for weeks suddenly erupted.
He didn't look at the black blade threatening his life; instead, his eyes snapped upward, locking onto Bell's face with a look of pure, unadulterated venom.
"You... you wretched, disgusting little freak!" Hyakinthos screamed, spit flying from his lips as his face flushed a violent, mottled crimson.
He began to frantically lash out from the dirt, his fingers clawing at the broken masonry as he dragged his upper body backward.
"What does he see in you?! Tell me! What could Lord Apollo possibly find attractive about a pathetic, white-haired gutter rat like you?!"
Bell didn't lower Elucidator. He kept his stance perfectly locked, his crimson eyes narrowing as he listened to the captain's frantic, desperate screeching.
"You are nothing!" Hyakinthos roared, his voice cracking into a manic, high pitched register that echoed through the caved in roof. "A Level 2 rookie! A complete nobody who only crawled out of the dirt a month and a half ago! You didn't earn this strength! It's luck! Pure, disgusting luck! You think you're special?! You have no lineage! You belong to no legendary bloodline! You are an unimportant, unrefined piece of garbage, and you are certainly not a first-class adventurer!"
Hyakinthos slammed his fist against a shattered stone block, his breathing ragged, and his chest heaving.
"This is all your fault! Our home, our glory, our god's pride—you ruined everything just by existing! Why does the world revolve around someone as worthless as you?!"
As the captain's echo died out, a heavy, suffocating atmosphere descended upon the ruins.
Bell remained perfectly still, but a thick, vein suddenly bulged along his temple. His knuckles turned white around the leather grip of Elucidator.
He had been listening to the insults, the mockery, and the endless arrogance of the Apollo Familia for weeks.
But as Hyakinthos continued to scream from the dirt, a very specific, dark, and deeply buried grudge began to violently untangle itself inside Bell's mind.
The words triggered a vivid, phantom pain across his entire body. Bell's mind instantly flashed back to that brutal, one sided nightmare in the alleyway of Orario.
He remembered the cold sting of Hyakinthos' blade slicing his cheek, his arms, and his legs. He remembered the sickening bang of a heavy boot smashing into his stomach, completely stealing his breath.
Most vividly of all, he remembered the absolute humiliation of lying flat on his back, gasping for air as blood poured from a massive, diagonal gash across his chest, while Hyakinthos brutally planted his heavy heel directly onto the open wound.
He remembered the cold, malicious sneer looking down at him, calling his face ugly, calling him unrefined, and threatening to cut off his limbs before dragging him away like property.
The memory of that agonizing pain and absolute helplessness curdled into something entirely foreign to Bell's usual nature. It wasn't justice. It wasn't heroism. It was raw, unadulterated, petty resentment.
Bell slowly lowered the tip of Elucidator, his chest rising and falling with a slow, heavy rhythm. He looked straight into Hyakinthos' frantic, bloodshot eyes.
"You know what, Hyakinthos?" Bell said, his voice dropping into a flat, chillingly calm register. "Fuck you."
The entire room went dead silent.
From the hallway, Welf had just walked into the threshold of the solar, wiping a smudge of dirt from his brow after successfully incapacitating Daphne.
The moment the explicit curse left Bell's mouth, Welf's eyes went completely wide. His fingers slipped from his weapon, and his massive, greatsword dropped from his hand, crashing against the stone floor with a deafening, metallic clang.
Lili's jaw dropped so low it looked like it was going to detach from her face. Mikoto instinctively clapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes practically popping out of her head in sheer, unmitigated shock, while even Ryuu's usually stoic, unshakeable expression completely fractured, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline.
"B-Bell...?" Asked Yuuya, his voice a mix of shock and concern. "Is that... Is that you?"
Even Yuuya himself is caught off guard by Bell's sudden change in character.
[Damn.] the system commented, its voice laced with a mixture of awe, profound amusement and suspiciously, it sounds proud. [I guess Alfia did manage to influence and leave a permanent genetic imprint on the boy after all. Meh, seven years is plenty of time anyways.]
Bell didn't notice the reactions. The dam had completely broken, and weeks of repressed stress, fear, and frustration were pouring out of his mouth like a torrent.
"You sit there and talk about lineage?! You talk about who deserves what?!" Bell shouted, stepping forward and aggressively pointing the tip of Elucidator directly at the captain's face. "You chased me and my goddess through the streets! You blew up our home! You beat me until I was coughing up blood, you stepped on my broken ribs, and you looked down on me like I was an insect just because your creepy, sun-baked god has a boundary, underaged boy fixation issue!"
Hyakinthos blinked, utterly stunned into silence by the sudden, terrifyingly uncharacteristic explosion of aggression from the boy who was supposed to be a pure hearted rookie.
"I worked my absolute ass off every single day in that Dungeon!" Bell ranted, his voice echoing across the wilderness through the caved in ceiling. "I fought for my life against monsters that would turn you into a grease spot! And I have to sit here and listen to you complain about 'elegance' and 'divine affection' like we're in some twisted noble drama?! I didn't ask for any of this!"
As the rant reached its peak, a sudden, terrifying realization slammed into Bell's brain.
His internal clock caught up with him, and his eyes subtly drifted toward the sky, where the invisible presence of the divine projection mirrors was broadcasting his face, his voice, and his vocabulary to every single man, woman, and deity living in Orario.
'Oh... Oh gods...' thought Bell. 'I just said a very, very bad word. Ms. Eina is gonna kill me.'
He had just dropped an F-bomb. On a live, city wide broadcast. In front of his goddess, his friends, the Guild, and the entire population of Orario.
A frantic, chaotic energy short circuited Bell's nervous system. A crazy, slightly unhinged, lopsided, and entirely scary smile spread across his face. His ruby eyes began to wildly swirl with a mixture of intense, lingering rage and supreme, world ending embarrassment.
The sheer absurdity of the situation pushed him completely past the point of sanity.
But if there was something he learned from his mother Alfia in his years of living with her: violence first, deal with the consequences later.
So if he was going down in history of Orario as a foul mouthed lunatic, he was going to make sure he finished the script properly.
Bell took one final step forward, his stance widening as he raise his left arm, pointing his trembling hand and locking perfectly into position right between Hyakinthos' wide, terrified eyes.
The air around his fingers violently crackled with an instantaneous, aura of pure crimson lightning.
"Let me be absolutely clear, Hyakinthos." Bell hissed, his swirling eyes locked onto the captain's pale face as the chaotic smile widened. "Fuck first-class adventurers. Fuck the Apollo Familia. And most importantly..."
The crimson sparks exploded into a roaring, blinding sphere of pure kinetic heat.
"...Fuck YOU!"
•FIREBOLT!•
A massive, point blank detonation of raw magical energy erupted from Bell's palm. The blinding crimson lance slammed directly into Hyakinthos' chest.
The captain didn't even have the time to scream; the blast lifted his entire armored frame off the ground, launching him backward through the air before he crashed heavily into the far stone wall, completely unconscious and thoroughly charred.
The lingering smoke drifted up toward the open sky, leaving Bell standing alone in the center of the rubble, his hand still extended, panting heavily as the official signal flare for the Hestia Familia's total victory echoed across the outskirts of Orario.
∆∆∆∆
Inside the Denatus, the absolute silence that followed the blinding flash of Bell's Firebolt lasted for three agonizing seconds.
Then, the divine assembly hall erupted into total, unmitigated pandemonium and chaos.
Apollo was no longer on the floor; he had crawled back up only to drop heavily onto his knees against the table, his hands clutching his hair as he stared at the smoking, charred form of Hyakinthos on the divine mirror. His eyes were completely hollow, tears of pure, unadulterated humiliation spilling down his cheeks.
"My beautiful captain..." Apollo whimpered, his voice trembling with a mixture of heartbreak and existential dread. "My castle... my household... ruined by a foul mouthed rabbit..."
"Aha! Ahahahaha! Oh, my ribs! Someone hold my sides before I split wide open!"
Loki was literally rolling on the marble floor, her long legs kicking the air as she pounded her fists against the stone in absolute, hysterical glee.
She was laughing so hard that no sound was coming out of her throat anymore, just breathless, choked wheezes as she pointed a trembling finger at the projection of Bell's swirling, unhinged face.
"Did ya hear him?! Did ya see the look on the little brat's face?!" Loki howled, wiping a tear from her eye as she dragged herself back onto a chair. "The pure, innocent, blushing little savior just told an entire Familia to go screw themselves on a live city wide broadcast! This is the greatest day of my immortal life!"
Hestia, meanwhile, was frozen in a state of deep, psychological conflict. One half of her body was vibrating with the triumphant, roaring pride of a goddess who had just won a war against all odds. The other half was completely paralyzed with maternal horror.
"My Bell..." Hestia whispered, her hands flying to her burning cheeks as her eyes darted frantically between the screen and the general direction of Rigel Castle. "I mean, great! We won! But my Bell... My sweet, polite, gentle Bell... where did he learn that vocabulary?! He's never said a curse word in his entire life! Who corrupted my pure child?!"
(Yuuya: not me, don't look at me.)
From across the table, Hermes subtly shifted his gaze away from Hestia, coughing into his hand as he tried to maintain his composure. His eyes, however, instinctively wandered over to the separate projection frame that showed Yuuya still deeply shocked by Bell's F-bombs.
'I think we all know exactly who has been influencing the boy's internal monologue.' Hermes thought, a slow, highly amused smirk stretching across his face. 'Alfia's... Choice of words isn't really the best anyways...'
Over at the Loki Familia headquarters, the reaction was no less chaotic. The elite, first-class adventurers who had spent years maintaining a reputation of absolute discipline and martial pride were staring at the projection mirror with wide, unblinking eyes.
Tiona leaned forward so far she almost fell face first into the floor, her jaw hanging open so low it looked completely unhinged.
"Did... DID ARGONAUT-KUN JUST SWEAR?!" Tiona shrieked, her voice reaching a pitch that startled the birds right out of the nearby trees. "The sweet, fluffy, polite Argonaut-kun?! He just used the bad word! The big one! And he said it three—no, four times!"
"Language, Tiona." Tione muttered automatically, though her own eyes were wide with a rare mixture of shock and profound respect. She crossed her arms, a sharp grin tugging at her lips. "But damn... you've got to give the kid credit. To tell a Level 3 captain and an entire divine household to go screw themselves right before vaporizing him? That took some serious balls."
From the back of the balcony, a deep, rumbling vibration began to shake the floorboards.
Gareth threw his massive head back, his thick red beard shaking violently as a booming, thunderous laugh erupted from his chest. He slapped his heavy hand against his knee with enough force to crack the stonework, his eyes sparkling with absolute, unadulterated delight.
"Bwahahaha! Aye! Now THAT is how ya finish a fight!" Gareth roared, his deep dwarf voice echoing across the courtyard. "The little rabbit's finally grown some teeth, he has! No more bowing, no more blushing—just pure, old-fashioned spite! I don't care what the gods say, that lad's earned his stripes today!"
"Hmph." Bete snarled, his expression a mix of respect and amusement. "Seems like the rabbit finally learned to growl."
Finn simply shook his head, a soft, analytical smile replacing his initial shock. He watched Bell's frantic, embarrassed expression on the screen as the boy realized the entire city had just heard his rant.
"It seems our rookie commander reached his absolute breaking point. Psychological warfare works both ways, and Hyakinthos pushed a grudge he really shouldn't have touched."
Beside them, Ais stood perfectly still. Her golden eyes were wide, blinking slowly as she processed the sheer, raw intensity of Bell's sudden outburst. She tilted her head to the side, looking entirely bewildered.
"What does that F word mean?" She asked innocently.
"It's nothing Ais! Don't worry about it!" Replied Tiona hurriedly.
"Bell... looked very scary." Ais whispered softly, her fingers lightly touching her own chest as she remembered the polite, stuttering boy who usually ran away from her in a cloud of dust. "But... he won."
Inside the grand lobby of the Guild, the atmosphere was usually a model of bureaucratic efficiency and quiet professionalism.
But today, the massive projection mirrors on the marble pillars had drawn hundreds of staff members, advisors, and off duty adventurers into a dense, silent crowd.
Standing right at the front of the spectator grid was Eina.
The half-elf advisor was holding a thick stack of official update forms and status reports meant for the Guild Master.
The moment Bell's voice echoed through the place—delivering the heavy, unmistakable combo of profanity—Eina's entire body went completely rigid.
The color instantly drained from her face, leaving her a pale, ghostly white. Her eyes dilated behind her glasses, staring at the screen in a state of absolute, vegetative trauma.
Clatter.
The heavy stack of paperwork slipped from her numb fingers, scattering across the polished marble floor like oversized confetti. She didn't even look down to retrieve them.
Her mind was stuck in a catastrophic loop, desperately trying to reconcile the image of the sweet, innocent, overly polite boy who always bowed ninety degrees and brought her small gifts with the unhinged, cursing warrior who had just dropped an F-bomb on the entire population of Orario.
"Bell... Cranel..." Eina whispered, her voice barely a breathless squeak. Her hands began to shake as she gripped the edges of her uniform vest. "My cute... innocent... well behaved rookie... just said... that word..."
"Whoa, Eina, breathe!" Misha, her fellow receptionist, rushed over, frantically fanning Eina's face as the half-elf's knees visibly began to buckle. "Don't faint on me! It's just a little bit of battlefield adrenaline! Adventurers say weird things when they win!"
"He cursed, Misha..." Eina wheezed, her soul practically exiting her body through her parted lips. "He cursed on a divine broadcast. The Guild Master is watching. Our goddess is watching. Everyone is watching. I am going to have to write a disciplinary report for a Level 2 rookie because he told a god to go fuck himself..."
(Author: personally me? Don't worry about it Eina, Apollo would be sent back to Tenkai anyways.)
Outside, in the open air plazas surrounding the central tower of Babel, the initial shock lasted for only a heartbeat before the entire city of Orario completely exploded into a riot of noise.
The thousands of low-tier adventurers—the Level 1s and Level 2s who spent their days grinding in the upper floors, getting pushed around by arrogant, elite households like the Apollo Familia—absolutely loved it.
They didn't care about decorum. They didn't care about divine grace.
"Did ya hear the kid?!" a burly Level 2 beastman roared, slamming his mug against a wooden tavern table until it shattered. "Fuck 'em! He actually said it! He told the first-class elites to stick it where the sun don't shine!"
"The Rabbit's a legend!" another rogue yelled, jumping onto a stone fountain and waving his dagger in the air. "Down with the sun freak mothafuckas! Long live the Hestia Familia!"
The merchants, the civilians, and even the cynical mercenaries were cheering, laughing, and throwing their hats into the air.
The sheer raw authenticity of Bell's teenage rebellion had resonated with the entire working class of the labyrinth city. It was ugly, it was unrefined, and it was the single most entertaining conclusion to a War Game in the history of the world.
Back at Rigel Castle, entirely unaware of the historical cultural shift he had just caused in the capital, Bell slowly lowered his smoking hand, his face burning a deeper shade of crimson than his own eyes as he looked down at the unconscious captain, realizing that his life would never, ever be the same again.
∆∆∆∆
Author: and that concludes the War Game. See y'all next time.