The Wandering Devil
Chapter: 47
Disclaimer: I don't own High School DxD or any other universe used in this story.
Pa/ t reon details below the chapter if you're interested in seeing some content in advance.
(It's Orion, not Onion!)
"I still think they should have given me a better name." I sighed, thinking over my newly granted adventure name.
I grabbed an apple from a fruit stand, flipped some Vali to the vendor without looking.
The older man caught it with a grin.
It had been a few days since I had arrived back in Orario.
The reunion with the residents of the monster town had gone well.
I had shown them how their magical defences would work. It had been productive, partly because I hadn't actually seen them in action before, and they had asked me to place them in more undefendable areas after seeing their capabilities.
I noticed they still kept the small paths they liked open, not fully trusting me. But that was fine.
The crate of monster stones had been nice, even if that wasn't my main goal. It helped consolidate my Familia's wealth. An objective which I had found to be of immediate importance. There were many things that I had been neglecting.
Potions, powerful weapons and armour. There were also various mundane items.
All of them are materials that I need to buy.
It was why I was also looking into other avenues of wealth. I didn't have many connections to buy or sell more exclusive items. Were those auctions for magical books and magical items? They weren't for the public. I was looking into more ways to sink my fangs into that business.
There wasn't a single place that sold items beyond their speciality. Even Hephaestus only sold the admittedly high-quality weapons and armour that her Familia made. This was a careful balance being maintained by the various familias, a mutual, unanimous decision to live and let live.
Of course, they still didn't let go of any opportunity to fuck each other over.
Because of this, I wanted my own Familia to have a speciality we could offer. The Xenos had given me an idea, actually. Or rather, the logistics of getting to their village had.
Permanent teleportation circles.
A circle I could use without all the preparations, and one I could activate without having to be present.
I knew the theory behind them. The Devils used them constantly for contracts and travel. The question was whether they would work in the Dungeon. The Dungeon had its own rules and could actively produce magic. This was a similar dilemma to igniting the insides of your magical opponents with fire. It just wouldn't work in most cases.
But if I could get a single one of them working, I'd be able to access a lot of places and a lot of money.
Rivira, the safe zone on the eighteenth floor. It was the last major rest stop before adventurers pushed into the deeper, more dangerous levels. And the prices there were insane because of transport costs and risk.
If I could set up a teleportation circle linking the surface to Rivira, I could transport supplies directly.
No risk, no transport costs. I could undercut every merchant there while still making a massive profit.
I could even accept magic stones as payment at a slightly worse rate than the Guild and call it a service fee. Adventurers training in the deep floors would only need to reach Riviera to resupply and cash out.
It would be safe to say I had some plans, preferably with the wizards I intended to ferry back to this world when I visited the wizarding world once more. Their Apparition spells would definitely help.
Anyway, that's why getting relatively high-quality monster stones in bulk, an amount which would have cost me multiple days of pure slaughter, in return for my services, was worth it. The Xenos didn't seem to consider the monsters as their own, which made it less awkward.
While the idea of sacrificing kin to the Devil for protection was as old as time, I decidedly didn't want to be part of it.
With such thoughts in my mind, we had returned home, only to be met with the revelation that Sebas could grow with the Falna. While it would remain to be seen if he would be able to go beyond level one hundred in terms of power, the fact that he could grow was a big deal for Nazarick. The potential to gain the skills Falna offered and the power that came with them were significant.
Bell's awkward laugh brought me out of my head. Man, increased brain processing power is saving my behind from embarrassing myself.
I refocused on the situation around me, allowing a frown to appear on my face as I regarded him and the topic of our conversation.
The quarterly naming ceremony had finally arrived. The meeting of Gods to name adventurers who passed level one loomed over all of Orario for a while.
Between my recent dealings with the former Sun God and my rapid growth, I had garnered quite a bit of attention.
"I-I don't think it's bad at all!" Bell said, looking genuinely concerned. "At least it sounds heroic... 'Little Rookie' is kind of embarrassing..."
I winced only slightly. "I'm sure it's only temporary. And I can't deny it's a little cute. It'll also make you stand out when you inevitably reach the top. It's like if I called my Basilisk Snuggles or something."
Bell's shoulders slumped a bit. "I guess... but it doesn't really sound like the name of someone strong… then again, I doubt I'll ever be that strong."
"Nonsense," I replied. "But you would think Gods would have a better name sense after living so long, but as Apollo showed, living longer doesn't mean being smarter. Your experiences can't come in clutch when they were all trash, I suppose."
Bell brightened immediately at my words, even if he smiled warily at the casual disrespect. "I still think your name is so much better, though! 'Scarlet Disaster' sounds really cool."
I grinned at his enthusiasm.
"Then I'll have to take your word for it."
Sebas, walking precisely two steps behind me, spoke in that perfectly measured tone. "Lord Zephyrion, if I may. While I don't believe these so-called Gods have any right to name you, if you are abiding by such titles, I do believe the 'Scarlet Disaster' is quite the better choice when considering the vast array of options."
I bit into the apple.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure most Gods take anyone around the level two mark less seriously than the higher levels. A bit silly considering there are fewer than a thousand level twos in the whole of Orario."
"Will I get another name when I reach level three?" Bell asked curiously.
"You're nearly there, aren't you? I think so, but the meeting is only held every three months, so you'll have to wait." I replied thoughtfully. I suppressed a shudder at some names I thought of. "In fact, maybe it's best I just missed the naming selection when I levelled up."
Currently, we were walking through the market district, which was packed with people celebrating some festival I'd missed while being yanked between worlds.
Lanterns hung from every building, music drifted from somewhere, and the smell of grilled meat made my stomach growl despite having just ravaged an apple.
Seems like I had worked up quite the appetite. It was the natural result of me pushing my limits in the dungeon once more with someone like Sebas at my back.
"Lord Zephyrion," Sebas said, gesturing to a stall selling what looked like dungeon drops, "shall I acquire materials for weapon maintenance? I overheard your desire to experiment on your weapon."
It was safe to say that having Sebas following me around had been both strange and enjoyable. His presence had been nothing but useful, and I had come to like him in the few days since we had come back.
"Oh, you heard that?"
"Indeed, my Lord," Sebas replied dutifully.
"Right. Go ahead." I said, handing him my coin pouch. "Get whatever you think we need. And grab something for yourself, too."
"I require nothing beyond the privilege of serving you, Lord Zephyrion." Sebas' reply came instantly.
"Sebas," I said, slightly flatly. "Buy yourself something nice."
The old butler's eye twitched. Just barely, but I caught it. "As you wish, Lord Zephyrion."
He moved toward the stall with that perfect gliding walk.
Bell watched him go, his eyes shining with admiration. "I-I don't think I'll ever get used to how incredible Sebas-san is..." His voice trailed off in wonder before he turned back, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"You've really got an amazing talent, Captain. It's... It's still so strange to think that our Familia is actually known now. I mean, we're really-" He paused, seeming to catch himself, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. "I never thought we'd come this far..."
"I told you we would," I replied confidently. "The Hestia Familia was never going to remain unknown and weak."
Bell smiled brightly. "Right."
We kept walking, weaving through the crowds.
People stared. A few whispered.
My confrontation with Apollo was still fresh in everyone's minds, and the nickname 'Scarlet Disaster' had only reinforced my infamy. At least no one seemed to notice my physical changes beyond a few confused glances.
Sebas materialised from the crowd with the grace of a hunting cat, people parting to give space to the regal butler, a small pouch in his hand. He bowed slightly.
"The materials have been successfully procured, Lord Zephyrion. I also took the liberty of acquiring sharpening stones of exceptional quality." Sebas informed me.
"Good job, Sebas." I complemented idly, looking around as we walked with no real destination in mind.
My promise to Hestia had finally arrived.
The Moon festival was in full swing.
I glanced around at the lanterns swaying overhead, the music drifting from somewhere deeper in the market. "So what's this festival about again?"
Bell perked up immediately and turned to look at me with incredulity. "You don't know what it's about?"
"No," I replied.
With the many living Gods in Orario, it was safe to say there were a lot of festivals.
"Oh, well, it's a yearly Festival, normally lasting three days. The Holy Moon Festival is special because it takes place when both moons are full at the same time." Bell explained after a moment of thought.
He pointed up at the sky where two pale crescents were already visible in the fading light. "It's considered really lucky. It's mainly a Festival for people to make wishes, while the Festival itself hosts multiple special competitions, and vendors sell special, exclusive items."
"Luck? I can get on board with that. I'm sure I have a debt to pay for the sheer amount of it I've received recently." I said, looking around at the festival.
"Zephyrion!"
We were interrupted by a cheerful voice.
I turned. Hestia bounced through the crowd, her twin tails bouncing in tandem. Her movements caused certain parts to jiggle in a rather hypnotic manner, but I persevered through the temptations.
Welf and Lili followed at a more measured pace, and wrapped around Welf's neck like some kind of scaly accessory was my Basilisk, its eyes gleaming with what looked suspiciously like amusement.
"Why is my familiar using you as furniture?" I asked curiously.
Welf grinned nervously. "I guess he just likes me. What can I say? I've got a way with reptiles."
Lili coughed.
"He's scared she will bite and kill him if he doesn't let her do what she wants," Lili explained, her chestnut eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter.
The Basilisk flicked its tongue, completely unrepentant.
"He is correct."
I rolled my eyes, and Welf chuckled nervously.
"What did she say?" Welf asked.
"Nothing you want to hear," I said with an innocent smile, turning to Hestia.
"Wait, what? Captain? What does that mean?" Welf's voice said behind me.
Hestia grabbed my arm, pressing her assets around its length, her warmth already beginning to spread across my side. I wrapped an arm over her almost protectively.
"Everyone is here," Hestia said with a bright smile.
"The Scarlet Disaster and his humble Familia," Welf said with mock solemnity. "The festival isn't prepared for what's coming."
"Don't start," I muttered with exasperation.
"Yes, Captain," Welf said sheepishly.
We moved through the market as a group, which drew even more attention as people recognised us individually.
I wondered if they thought about how we could probably kill everyone here?
The thought was amusing until I realised how disturbing that probably sounded.
Hestia kept one hand on my arm, chattering about various stalls and pointing out interesting items. She was excited by the smallest of things, her energy infectious.
It was good to be back.
The Festival itself was fun.
With limited items on display and genuine, unique entertainment, it was worth taking a look around. Most Festivals in Orario had a unique structure, which was part of why they were so popular.
Hestia tugged me toward a jewellery stall. Various moon-based jewellery was on display, glittering and showing they were high quality, as most vendors were on the main street.
"Lady Hestia has excellent taste," Sebas observed from his position two steps behind.
I looked over the selection.
"How much for this one?" I asked, directing my gaze towards a particular piece.
"A good eye." The vendor nodded. "Only a few of these are sold every year, mostly to some rich couples that are interested in unique jewellery they can brag about."
He chuckled and quoted me the price, briefly raising my eyebrow.
It was easy enough to buy a high-quality weapon.
An attempt to haggle was on the edge of my tongue before Hestia tugged my arm.
"We don't need it, thank you. We were only looking around." Hestia said politely.
Ah.
There went the negotiations.
I ignored Hestia's attempt as I paid in full, making the vendor smirk.
"Thanks for your patronage."
It was a crescent-moon hairpin crafted from silver, with small pearls embedded along its curve to mimic moon craters.
The pointed end is designed to slide through a bun or updo, while the crescent itself rests against the hair like a crown. Thin silver chains dangle from the tips of the crescent, each ending in a tiny star-shaped crystal that catches the light with movement.
Hestia was left standing with a hint of a blush as she stared at me exasperatedly.
"You didn't need to spend so much money on me, Zeph," Hestia said, though the joyful smile that accompanied her statement showed she was overjoyed.
Sebas nodded. "Impressive taste, my Lord."
"It would have been a shame to let something that fits you so well go to someone else," I said, my eyes trailing over her. "It matches your eyes."
Hestia's shy reaction made me laugh as I hugged her.
I returned to the rest of my Familia. Only to overhear Bell and Lili at a stall nearby with… backpacks?
"The balance is off. Bell, don't even think about buying them for me." Lili's voice called out. "I don't want you to waste your money."
Bell flushed.
"I wasn't!" Bell protested, though his hand had been drifting toward his coin pouch.
Welf picked up a small hammer, testing its weight, but decided it wasn't to his taste and earned an offended look from the person running the stall. That further turned into an actual argument over why his hammer was better.
The Basilisk hissed softly, and the shopkeeper ducked.
She hissed again, sounding distinctly smug.
We continued through the festival.
Hestia pointed out various events and the traditions behind them, giving a glimpse into the sheer well of knowledge she held beneath the giddy facade.
She then told me that families would release paper lanterns later in the evening, each carrying a wish.
Bell listened with rapt attention, asking questions that made Hestia reply excitedly. While Lili and Welf fell into conversation behind us, arguing about the merits of various adventure supplies we passed by.
And the unique items based on the moon that were displayed. Sebas, all the while, was observing it with curiosity, twitching whenever they didn't address me properly, but seemingly understanding I was fine with it.
It was definitely a good choice to bring him here.
"You should go check out the arena games," I said after a while. "I heard some exhibition matches are starting soon."
Bell's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Are you not coming with us?" Lili asked.
"Actually," Hestia interjected smoothly, slipping her arm through mine more firmly, "I was hoping Zephyrion and I could look around a bit more. Just the two of us." She glanced at Sebas. "Well, three of us."
I looked at her in surprise, but she gave me a possessive squeeze in return.
Welf's grin turned knowing. "Right. Of course. Come on, Bell, Lili. Let's give them some space."
"But..." Bell looked confused for a moment, then his face turned red. "Oh! Right! Yes! Let's... go!"
"Very firm of you, lieutenant." Welf grinned.
Lili rolled her eyes but smiled. "Have fun, Captain."
It was safe to say Familia had become comfortable with each other. While they all joked around, the respect in their eyes when they addressed me was almost uncomfortable.
"Stay with Bell," I said firmly, turning to the snake among us. "Keep them safe."
She regarded me for a long moment, then transferred over to Bell's body in one fluid motion.
The boy stumbled slightly under the weight before adjusting.
The three of them disappeared into the crowd, Welf still grinning.
Hestia squeezed my arm. "Now we can enjoy the festival alone."
"You do realise Sebas is still here," I pointed out. "Not that I'm complaining."
Sebas inclined his head.
"Sebas doesn't count," Hestia replied warmly. "Not to offend you, Sebas."
"None taken, Lady Hestia," Sebas replied with perfect courtesy.
"You know, by the sounds of it, anyone would think you didn't enjoy their presence." I joked.
She rolled her eyes. "I love them as my family, but I have enough chaos with you, and I wanted us to spend some time alone."
"I'll have you know I think being chaotic is a good trait," I said with a mock offended tone.
Hestia giggled, and I could only stare at her.
Hestia stood in the festival lights wearing a flowing white dress that complemented her short frame perfectly.
The fabric was simple but looked amazing on her, falling to her knees and embroidered with delicate blue threading along the hem that matched her sapphire eyes.
A blue ribbon cinched at her waist, the same shade as the one she typically wore. Her twin-tails cascaded down to her mid-thighs, the black hair glossy and catching the lantern light with each movement.
The hair accessories holding them in place featured blue and white petals with small bell-shaped ornaments that chimed softly when she turned her head.
"You're beautiful," I commented confidently, dragging my eyes over her with a growing smirk.
She was a Goddess, but even by those standards, she was above the rest in my humble opinion.
And she was all mine.
Her cheeks warmed, and I found her in my arms, her lips on mine.
She stayed in my arms, her body pressed against mine.
We walked together through the festival grounds.
Hestia was interested in various stalls; her enthusiasm never waned.
I suspect this was the first time she had really experienced this festival.
She'd stop to examine trinkets, exclaim over decorations and occasionally press close when the crowd grew thick.
But she never left my side.
That continued for a good hour as I took the chance to enjoy myself.
"This is nice," she said softly.
"Mmm."
"That's it? Just 'mmm'?"
My hand slid down to her ass. "What do you want me to say?"
She laughed and leaned into me. "Nothing. That works."
I caught sight of Sebas out of the corner of my eye. Something seemed to click for him, though he maintained his position exactly two steps behind.
His presence remained unobtrusive as he performed with a skill that genuinely impressed me.
He'd occasionally gesture toward items he thought might interest us or smoothly intervene when someone looked ready to jostle Hestia in the crowd.
"You know, I can't say I ever expected you to come back with such a loyal servant," Hestia commented warmly. "Are you sure Satomi was okay with letting him join our Familia?"
I shrugged easily.
"In her words, as her last guild mate in a part of the Nazarick Family and by extension, you are as well. So she merely sees it as powering up one part of her family." I replied with a hint of a smile.'
"That's sweet." She glanced back at Sebas. "Thank you for taking such good care of us."
"It is my honour and duty, Lady Hestia," Sebas replied immediately.
A commotion ahead drew our collective attention.
A large crowd had gathered, all watching something with excitement, their voices rising. I could make out what looked like a raised platform; adventurers clustered around it.
And if I was correct, was Hermes saying something about a spear?
Hestia noticed my gaze and followed it, then spotted something that made her smirk deviously.
"See something interesting?" she asked innocently.
I'd caught sight of familiar long green hair in the crowd. Riveria Ljos Alf stood with several other members of the Loki Familia, watching whatever was happening on the platform with polite interest.
"It seems they are doing some sort of lottery," I said, unable to keep the amusement out of my tone.
Hestia's laugh intensified.
"You know. I'm not jealous."
"Believe it or not, that wasn't what drew my attention," I replied truthfully. "I didn't realise she had arrived back in Orario, though."
"Uh-huh. Sure." Hestia said. "It's fine. We have already spoken about this."
"I'll suppress it for you…" I said, becoming slightly more serious.
"But that would be undermining her," Hestia said back with an unbothered tone. "Besides, we have talked about this, and I already told you it was to be expected."
I wanted to squint my eyes at her words.
It hadn't been like I was looking.
"Yeah… but I'm giving you an option," I responded, looking at her directly.
"Zeph." Hestia sighed, her eyes turning that tad bit more ancient. "It's hardly a concept that's unnatural amongst Gods of all beings, especially to ones on my side of the family. While I was a virgin Goddess, I've managed to find love. A love that will last forever if I have anything to say about it. An unheard of concept for Goddess and Gods alike, whose mortal partners die so quickly."
"Still…"
"Dear, most Goddesses and Gods go into depravity after their mortal partners die anyway," Hestia said, slightly firmly. "When you live so long and finally give into love, only to have it snatched away. You stop caring. It's a horrid experience and part of why I have abstained for so long. But I won't have to experience it. So really, it doesn't matter to me."
I rolled my eyes and deliberately turned away from the platform, focusing instead on a nearby stall displaying various weapons and armour pieces.
"If you're fine with it."
The craftsmanship was mediocre at best, but it gave me something else to examine.
"Very smooth," Hestia teased.
"I have no idea what you mean."
She was still smiling, clearly amused by the entire situation.
Then something else caught my attention.
Another gathering was there, in a large space that had been cleared.
A smaller platform was set up, and a man was practically taunting the crowd. Hundreds of people, who had a sizeable amount of adventurers, laughed as the commentator seemingly picked people at random to taunt.
My eyes picked up a betting area with hundreds of people watching.
A large silver crescent was painted across the platform's surface, with the words 'Crescent's Edge Tournament' emblazoned above it in bold script.
A tournament?
"It's the Crescent's Edge Tournament," Hestia answered my thoughts. "It's a rather big deal, and I heard about it last year; it's sort of a scam, but a legal one."
"How so?" I asked curiously.
It was a fighting tournament. Simple setup. Two combatants at a time, first to yield or be knocked out of the ring, lose.
A board next to the platform listed the rules and prizes, the rewards scaled with each consecutive victory, culminating in what looked like a substantial valis purse and some moon-themed weapon.
Eight consecutive wins earned you one of three prizes. A beautifully crafted ring set with a small blue gemstone, a high-quality adventurer's pack, or a voucher for weapon maintenance… Hephaestus herself?
"Why eight?" I questioned.
"It's meant to represent the eight moon cycles, so it's not random," Hestia replied with a hint of fondness. "But due to how hard it is to win, there is normally never a winner."
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"Well, it's the structure of the game. To challenge, you need to pay a fairly absorbent price, then if you win, you're already tired and can be challenged by seven other spectators." Hestia explained.
"Ah, nothing is free." I nodded. "But really? No one makes it through all that?"
"It's trickier when you start getting to the higher levels from the brief bit I've observed, and the commentator begins taunting more powerful adventurers," Hestia said thoughtfully. "I imagine they have some hired adventurers in the crowd as well."
I agreed with her assessment. "It's a good scam and one that, I imagine, draws a lot of money, both from the gamblers and the fighters."
I found myself admiring its crafty nature.
"The rewards do look high quality, though."
Hestia's eyes locked onto the ring.
I watched her expression shift, surprise giving way to a conscious effort to look away as if she had sensed my thought process. Honestly, even the overly expensive piece of jewellery I bought from the prior vendor didn't match up to them.
"It's beautiful," she admitted, then quickly added, "But you don't need to..."
I was already walking toward the platform.
"Zephyrion! Wait!" Hestia called.
The announcer, a portly man with a red face and enthusiastic demeanour, spotted me approaching. "Another challenger! Step right up, friend! Entry fee is just two thousand valis, and if you can score eight wins, one of these fine prizes is yours!"
"Lord Zephyrion," Sebas said quietly, "if you wish for it, I would be honoured to compete in your stead."
I considered it.
I'd probably be recognised and targeted, but what were they going to do? Reject me and show that it is a scam? A large part of me wanted to destroy it just for the sake of winning.
"No. I want to do this." I said after a moment, sending a look towards the butler. "Would you mind keeping Hestia company?"
"Of course." He bowed slightly.
I stepped onto the platform, quickly got the amount of Vali I needed, and passed it to the announcer.
The man caught it, counted quickly, and his eyes widened slightly at the amount.
The crowd had noticed me.
Whispers started spreading.
"Is that...?"
"The Scarlet Disaster?"
"He's fighting?"
I heard someone groan. "Oh gods, this is going to be a massacre."
I had to suppress a blush.
The announcer's enthusiastic expression faltered. "Ah. You're... you're the Scarlet Disaster."
"Yes," I replied curtly and drew the sword at my hip, a simple but well-balanced blade I'd been using for training. "Let's begin."
If I used my divine weapon, I was going to kill someone by accident.
"Right! Of course! First challenger, step forward!" The commentator said, his voice nervous and his eyes glancing to someone in the shadows with alarm.
A young man, level one, was already on the stage, having beaten the last person who tried to fight him. He had a basic sword that shook slightly, but his eyes held determination.
He opened with a simple horizontal slash. I blocked with a quick slash that batted his sword away with a brief shower of sparks. My foot raised, swept his legs and had my blade at his throat before he finished hitting the platform.
The fight lasted for less than ten seconds.
"Winner!" the announcer called weakly.
The second fighter lasted slightly longer. A woman with dual daggers who actually knew how to use them. She came in fast, trying to overwhelm me with speed and combinations.
I parried the first three strikes in rapid succession and stepped inside her guard. A quick pommel struck her solar plexus, and she folded, further dropping as I hit her with the base of my sword.
Eight seconds.
Naturally, after the showing, the crowd had grown excited. The challengers had become hesitant to waste their money.
No challengers meant there wouldn't be a prize.
I needed to offer a gain.
Quite frankly, it was unfair.
I was one of the strongest adventurers in Orario.
In terms of pure power, that is, and not including the sheer amount of magic I had.
A third opponent rose to the challenge, a level two or three, judging by his clothing and, more importantly, his weapon. The man who stepped onto the platform was built like a predator, lean and scarred.
His hair was cropped short and streaked with premature grey, framing a face marked by old wounds.
He wore a weathered leather coat reinforced with metal plates at the shoulders and elbows. Beneath it, a chain shirt gleamed dully under the lantern light.
The chain depicted an elephant effigy.
From the Ganesha Familia, then.
Strapped across his back were two swords, one plain steel for men, the other etched with faint runes that glowed slightly with enchantments that were probably from the Hephaestus Familia.
Around his belt hung an array of vials.
Potions, I guessed.
His eyes, sharp and amber-tinged, scanned me with the cold calculation of a hunter sizing up prey.
The crowd murmured, growing excited and obviously sensing that he was a veteran.
I smiled.
I didn't interact with other Familias too much, so I found myself interested.
Whispers rippled, and I kept an ear out.
"That's Eirik the Beastslayer."
"Isn't he from the Ganesha Familia?"
"He's a lieutenant, right? Or am I thinking of someone else?"
"No, he definitely is! I heard he's really good as well, doesn't he use those weird potions for quick boosts of power?"
"Right! It's him, didn't he use that to beat a level four in the Ganesha Tournament?"
The announcer, regaining some of his bluster, boomed, "And now, challenging the Scarlet Disaster himself. Eirik, the hunter of the depths!"
I kept my stance loose, sword held low, dialling back everything.
My speed, my strength, the raw demonic power coiling in my veins. To the world, I was Zephyrion, a level three adventurer on the cusp of four, a rising star but still mortal, still bound by the Falna's limits.
No need to shatter that illusion yet. Let them think this was a real contest.
It would make the victory sweeter, and besides, Hestia was watching with that mix of worry and pride that made my chest tighten.
"Good luck, kid."
Eirik didn't waste words.
He drew his ruined sword with a fluid motion.
He circled me slowly, boots silent on the wooden planks, testing the ring's boundaries.
The bell rang, and he moved.
His sword thrusted low to test my guard, followed by a quick sidestep and a slash aimed at my shoulder. I parried the thrust with a clang that echoed through the square, letting my blade give just enough to make it look like I actually needed to block.
He pressed, feinting high before sweeping low, his free hand struck and tried to force me off-balance.
I leaned into it, using my other hand to push his arm away, making him stumble back.
Only for his sword to lean into the momentum and deliver a swift strike that whistled through the air.
The crowd gasped, then cheered.
Hestia's voice cut through, sharp with concern. "Zeph!"
I avoided it and retaliated with a slash of my own that made him bring up his gauntlet, using it to deflect the blow and push forward. He chained into another combo, blade dancing in precise arcs. Slash, thrust, and then a spinning backhand that forced me to duck.
I countered with a measured enthusiasm, enjoying the battle as we clashed in a storm of sparks. Steel on steel, sparks flying, the platform creaking under our footwork.
The small but reinforced arena began to show signs of damage.
He was good.
His technique was probably better than mine.
My opponent smiled lightly, an expression that looked out of place on what was a grim face.
His sword swung heavily, and he spun, his other hand snatching a vial and drinking it. A shimmer formed around his hand, now covered with glowing veins. As if punching an invisible enemy, he thrust his fist out.
A stream of flame erupted from the hand, and I backed away, my natural caution over magic making me use a burst of speed above my supposed limit. My opponent's eyes narrowed, and the small smile turned into a grin.
I shot forward once more, I came up swinging, grazing his coat but pulling the blow to avoid ending it too soon. He grunted, popping another vial mid-dodge, his movements blurring faster now, wounds from my glancing hit already knitting closed.
Time to wrap this up.
As he lunged again, committing to a powerful overhead cleave empowered by a crackling energy sign, I sidestepped with deliberate slowness, then exploded forward.
My sword flicked up in a blur too fast for most eyes to track, disarming him with a twist that sent his weapon spinning into the crowd. Before he could react, I drove my elbow into his sternum. Not full force, but enough to crumple him. I followed with a sweeping kick that hurled him off the platform.
He hit the ground with a thud, gasping, alive but done.
The announcer's voice cracked: "Winner... Scarlet Disaster! That's three!"
The crowd erupted, a mix of awe and disappointment from those who'd bet against me.
I sheathed my sword, letting out a false breath and glanced at Hestia.
She was beaming, relief flooding her features, though her eyes now held a knowing spark. She'd seen through the act.
"Come on, Orario! Who's brave enough to face the Disaster? Double the pot if you win!"
The announcer's face had gone pale. "This is... this is unprecedented! Three wins! One more and the Scarlet Disaster claims a prize!" He looked around desperately. "Will anyone challenge? Anyone at all?"
No one moved.
"Damn it." The announcer wiped his brow. "Alright, listen up! Since we're dealing with an exceptional situation, we're doing a special round! Free for all! Nine opponents, all at once! If our current champion survives, that counts as four wins, meaning he only needs one more! Entry fee reduced to one thousand Vali."
I raised an eyebrow.
Nine against one was worse odds than five separate fights; normally, I would have been able to reject this as unfair, but allowing me to get a boon from it was a boon. So it stopped me from complaining too much.
Sure enough, nine adventurers climbed onto the platform. Mix of levels, mix of weapons.
I looked over to the reward stand and an idea formed in my mind.
"This is a little unfair," I announced.
The commentator blinked.
"I doubt this has happened to anyone else; it's almost like you're making it harder for me without any extra gains," I said, the crowd excitement dying down a little. Before I could let them realise this was a scam, I continued. "I'm all for it, with increased rewards for the increase in the stakes, of course."
The commentator looked at the crowd, which was slowly starting to look towards him.
He laughed nervously. "How could I have forgotten to announce that? It must have gotten lost in all this excitement! Of course, I merely thought you'd want a chance to take on a challenge since you're doing so well."
I smiled, and the commentator shivered.
"Well, I accept." I nodded. "If you intend to give me all three prizes once I win."
He froze, his eyes flashing with indecision, but as the crowd cheered, he let out a loathing sigh.
"Then let it be so." He smiled weakly.
The adventurers around me, who had already spread out and naturally surrounded me, shot me apologetic smiles.
The announcer regained his charming smile and rang his bell, watching the gambling area take bets before he waved his hands.
"Begin!"
The 'free for all' was more of a 'kill the strongest and we can deal with each other later' moment.
They lunged as one, a barrage of steel and speed converging from every angle.
The armoured brute's hammer thundered down, the Amazoness's twin blades slicing in low and vicious from my flank, the pallum's warhammer sweeping wide to crush my ribs.
The platform trembled under their collective charge.
I exploded into motion, a scarlet blur, you can say
Ducking the maul's descent by a hair's breadth, I pivoted and drove my elbow into the brute's exposed midriff with bone-cracking force, sending him staggering back just as the Amazoness's daggers whistled in.
I caught one blade on my guard in a shower of sparks, twisted to deflect the other and countered with a lightning-fast kick that shattered her knee guard, dropping her mid-snarl.
The pallum's hammer came howling next, but I was already flowing past it, grabbing his extended arm and using his own momentum to hurl him into the mage's path.
The warhammer's arc disrupted the spell mid-cast, the fiery bolts fizzling harmlessly as the two collided in a heap of curses and tangled limbs.
I spun, parrying a desperate follow-up slash from the recovering brute while simultaneously sweeping low to hook the Amazoness's ankle and yank her off-balance.
She tumbled toward the edge, and I finished her with a precise pommel strike to the temple as she fell, along with a brutal kick that sent her out of the arena.
The pallum disentangled himself and charged anew, but I sidestepped, letting his hammer bury into the platform's wood with a splintering crack.
Then I drove my boot into his chest, launching him airborne and out of the ring.
The mage, scrambling to his feet, hurled a frantic bolt of fire. I twisted aside, the heat passing by instantly as the mage gave me a panicked look, and closed the distance in a single bound.
My fist connected with his jaw in a crunch that was probably just a bit of pressure away from breaking his jaw. All of this happened in a blur for the people below level three observing.
Bodies lay scattered or groaning at the edges, weapons clattered forgotten, and I stood untouched, sword lowered.
The square fell into a stunned hush, every eye wide with disbelief. Then the eruption came. Cheers thundered and shook the lanterns overhead.
The announcer looked like he might faint. "This is... I don't... Ladies and gentlemen, seven wins! The Scarlet Disaster needs just one more victory to claim his prize!"
He looked around desperately. "Will anyone...?"
No one moved. No one wanted to be the next person embarrassed.
"Ah, it seems we are at a standstill." He said, sounding slightly pleased.
I frowned.
Maybe I should have made myself look more weakened. Strangely enough, I felt my devil, or was it R'hal, instincts send a lance of displeasure and disgust at the thought.
The commentator opened his mouth to speak again.
"I'll fight him."
The commentator stuttered.
The crowd parted.
I turned to see a large Adventurer walking toward the platform.
The announcer's eyes went wide. "The... the King of Orario? You want to...?"
"Yes."
Excited whispers exploded through the crowd. People were already running to spread the word.
Most of them were sending me sympathetic glances my way.
This was going to draw attention fast.
The man climbed onto the platform. He was massive up close, all muscle and controlled power. His rust-colored eyes met mine, measuring, analysing.
I felt my lips thin out to a line.
Ottar.
I knew of him. I definitely recognised the title people were whispering.
Why was he here?
My muscles tensed, and I became serious.
He reached for his greatsword, the massive blade easily as long as I was tall, gleaming under the festival lanterns as he hefted it with effortless ease.
My own sword was already in hand, the simple training blade I'd been using all night.
This was probably going to shatter.
Despite the odds looking overwhelming against me, the announcer was pale and stammering, probably because this was one extreme to the other.
If the adventurer in front of me was stronger than the guy he had been worrying about winning, then that meant he would merely take my place and be even more unbeatable.
Which they didn't want.
He backed off the platform entirely.
"This is… unprecedented! The Scarlet Disaster versus the King of Orario! Weapons drawn!"
The commentator looked over to the betting table, and his eyes widened at the dozens of people practically throwing money down. For a few dozen seconds, he waited, his eyes glancing at someone.
The powerful adventurer staring at me calmly gave nothing away, his eyes assessing me.
"Begin."
He surged forward, leaving cracks in the ground as he moved at high speed.
Ottar led with a sweeping arc, his greatsword cleaving the air with a low whoosh that parted the wind. The platform groaned as the blade bit into the wood where I'd stood a heartbeat before.
I dodged low, rolling under the swing and coming up inside his guard, my sword thrusting for his midsection in a blur of crimson light.
He twisted impossibly fast for his bulky physique, the flat of his blade slamming down to deflect mine with a thunderous clang that echoed through the square. Sparks flew, and the impact jarred my arms to the shoulders.
He was genuinely strong, and the sword I was using began to crack.
I decided a direct clash of blades wouldn't do me any good. I pressed the advantage, spinning into a series of rapid slashes, high to low, feinting left then striking right, each one laced with demonic force to test his defences.
Ottar met them all.
His greatsword, despite its size, whipped around in multiple counters, parrying with minimal motion, redirecting my energy back at me. One block sent me staggering sideways, the force genuinely able to send me back.
I recovered mid-step, demonic power began channelling into the sword, trying to stop the cracks that threatened to shatter his blade.
I unleashed a barrage. Overhead cleave, followed by a spinning backslash, then a thrusting combo aimed at his joints, his throat, anywhere a gap might appear.
He replied without yielding an inch. His counters came harder now, each swing carrying even more weight. One grazed my shoulder as I twisted away, tearing my cloak.
It had just grazed my Mithril chainmail under my clothing.
I narrowed my eyes, and a shockwave erupted out of my body, breaking the reinforced arena.
My sword became a streak of red lightning as I wove around him, striking from angles that should have been otherwise impossible. A slash to his thigh forced him to shift, and an upward cut nicked his pauldron, shearing off a chunk of metal.
But Ottar adapted and, dare I say, looked mildly excited, his greatsword creating shockwaves wherever it impacted, each parry sending shockwaves that cracked the air and made the lanterns sway.
He countered with a devastating overhead smash. I crossed my blade to block, and the collision hit like a meteor.
My knees buckled, the reinforced stone beneath me shattering in a spray of splinters. The force drove me down to one knee, arms straining, muscles screaming as I held the greatsword at bay.
Ottar's eyes locked on mine, impassive.
My sword shattered, and I caught his massive blade, using my full strength to rip it away and send it into the wall nearby. My leg lashed out, and he slid back.
I prepared to rush him, but I only stopped as he merely dropped his arms.
His eyes met mine, a spark of approval gleaming in their depths.
He gave a single, pleased nod.
"I forfeit," he rumbled, voice carrying over the stunned silence.
It was then that I looked around.
The arena was gone. The brief clash had forced the crowd far back.
The crowd had doubled in size since it began.
For a few moments, there was an assembly of blinks. Then the crowd's eruption was deafening. The crowd exploded. People were shouting, cheering, and arguing about what they'd just witnessed.
The powerful adventurer picked up his greatsword and walked off the platform, disappearing into the crowd before anyone could follow.
He turned and left, attaching the large sword to his back.
Had he really just joined to fight me?
What a strange guy.
The announcer was practically in tears. "The... the Scarlet Disaster wins! Eight victories!"
The words sounded painful even to my ears.
Hestia's concerned face finally met my gaze, and Sebas looked tense, as if he was one moment away from joining the battle, a heavily displeased frown on his face.
Shaking off the weirdness of what had just happened and relaxing, I shot Hestia a cheeky grin, making her sigh.
The announcer reluctantly gestured to the prize table. "All three, as agreed."
His hands shook, and for a moment he closed his eyes.
He handed over the ring first, then the adventurer's pack, and finally the voucher with shaking hands. I examined the ring briefly, the blue gemstone catching the festival lights.
I sent him a pitying look.
"This is high quality," I said, examining it.
"Y-yes, it is." He said with a hint of bitterness before his eyes widened. "Wait, you don't even know what this is?!"
"Should I?"
"Should you know that the ring that's displayed is famous because it was made by one of the most renowned crafters, Asfi Al Andromeda!" He practically screamed.
"Never heard of them," I said brightly.
"It was then upgraded by Hephaestus as a gift!"
"And you were using that as bait in a rigged tournament? Shame on thee," I replied, turning around with the pack slung over my shoulder and the voucher tucked away.
He dropped to his knees and let out a frustrated scream behind me.
I paused. "Oh, wait, does the backpack have any cool features since you added it as a prize next to the ring?"
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO THAT BACKPACK USED TO BELONG TO?!"
"No…? Is it another gift? You need to stop giving away gifts, it's not cool." I said, turning away once more.
I heard the vague punching of wood behind me, then a pained yelp.
So the backpack was special? I'd have to check that out. The voucher went without saying that it would be useful.
I stepped off the platform and walked back to where Hestia stood, her eyes wide and slightly damp.
"Here." I held out the ring.
"Zephyrion..."
"It looked nice on you when you were staring at it," I said with a pleased smile.
She took the ring with trembling fingers, staring at it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Then she threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.
"Why do you insist on spoiling me? I didn't need such an item." Hestia said sincerely.
"Yeah, but you deserved it, and the only good scam is one I pull off," I replied sagely.
Hestia's lips twitched.
"Thank you," she whispered.
I rested one hand on her back. "You're welcome."
Sebas watched with approval from his position behind us.
We spent the next hour wandering the festival together. Hestia kept glancing at the ring on her finger, smiling every time she caught sight of it. She was warm and happy against my side.
Eventually, Bell reappeared with Lili and Welf in tow, the Basilisk coiled around his shoulders.
"We should head back," Bell said apologetically. "We've got an early dungeon run tomorrow."
Hestia nodded, though she looked reluctant. "You're right. Zephyrion, will you...?"
"Go," I said. "I'm going to pick up a few more things, then I'll head back. The Basilisk will keep you safe. Bell knows what he's doing."
She squeezed my hand one more time, then left with the others, the Basilisk's golden eyes watching me until they disappeared into the crowd.
That left me alone with Sebas.
I glanced toward the main square, where the large gathering I'd noticed earlier was still going strong.
The crowd had grown even bigger.
"Let's go see what all that commotion is about."
"As you wish," Sebas replied, falling into pace with me.
We headed toward the gathering, Sebas trailing exactly two steps behind as always.
I raised an eyebrow as I realised the crowd around us thickened.
People were gathering toward the central plaza, drawn by something up ahead.
"What's going on?" I stood on my toes, trying to see over the crowd. I started pushing through, and people parted when they saw me coming. Probably the eyes again.
We made it to the front, and I stopped.
In the centre of the plaza stood a crystal formation taller than I was.
It caught the lantern light, refracting it into a dozen colours.
But that wasn't what made me stare.
Embedded in the crystal was a spear.
My breath caught. The weapon was gorgeous in a way that had nothing to do with aesthetics and everything to do with power. Energy rolled off it in waves, making my skin prickle.
I could already tell the weapon was above my sword in quality.
My weapon was divine-made; this was a divine weapon.
I wanted it.
Something in my chest pulled tight.
Perhaps it was just my greed… that had been what had just caused me to fight a bunch of adventurers for free rewards. But I knew how special a good weapon was.
My current weapon was extremely good, exceptionally well-made in smithing. It grew with me and was highly reliable, but the spear was more powerful than I was.
Could I combine it with my current weapon?
"Interesting," Sebas murmured. He'd materialised beside me again, studying the crystal with those sharp eyes. "The craftsmanship is exceptional, and I sense the weapon is incredibly powerful."
I barely heard him.
My attention was locked on the spear.
Then I sighed.
It was probably on display. I doubt such a thing would be on for sale… should I steal it? No one would know if I combined it with my sword, and dare I say I had the magic to pull it off.
A man in elaborate purple robes stood beside it, arms spread wide as he addressed the crowd. His smile was too broad, too practised, and something about him screamed that he was a God.
Another god, then. One I didn't recognise.
"...blessed by the Goddess of Purity herself!" His voice carried over the square. "The weapon of legend, waiting for one worthy enough to claim it! Pull the spear free, and you shall be granted passage to distant lands, adventure beyond measure and the favour of divine power!"
I blinked.
What?
Were they inviting people to take it? What was the catch?
A burly adventurer stood before the crystal now, hands wrapped around the spear's shaft. His muscles bulged as he pulled. Veins stood out on his neck. His boots scraped against the stone platform.
Nothing happened.
The crystal didn't crack. The spear didn't shift even a fraction.
He released it with a curse, stumbling back, and the crowd murmured.
Next came a woman in light armour, confidence radiating from every movement.
She grabbed the spear with both hands, set her stance, and heaved. Her face went red with effort. Still nothing.
Was there some sort of entry fee?
I watched as the next person, seemingly at random, tried.
The God merely smiled, and it let it happen.
Another person tried, even using a spell. Only for the magic to fizzle out, and the spear remained locked in place.
One after another, they tried. Adventures of all types, along with even a few gods, stepped forward with amused expressions.
All failed.
The purple-robed god laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "As you can see, this is no ordinary challenge! The spear knows! It waits for one pure of heart, one worthy of its divine power!"
I watched three more attempts. A level three adventurer who looked like she could bend steel. A massive Pallum with arms like tree trunks.
Someone in full armour who tried to leverage their entire body weight.
All of them walked away empty-handed.
I heard whispers of it being rigged.
Was this some attraction?
My mind went back to the tournament from a few hours ago.
Another scam, maybe?
"Lord Zephyrion," Sebas said quietly. "Do you desire that weapon?"
"Without a doubt," I said, looking at him. "I'm merely wondering what the catch is."
"Do you desire me to procure it for you, my Lord?" Sebas asked.
I hummed. "No, I'll do it. Watch my back, when I get it, knock anyone who tries to take it away from me."
"Yes, my Lord." His gaze grew fierce.
Which made our presence noticed.
Excited whispers broke out as I strode towards the podium.
"The Scarlet Disaster!"
"Think he can do it?"
The purple-robed god's smile widened as I approached. "Ah! We have a new challenger! The rising star himself. Will he prove worthy of the Goddess's blessing?"
The crowd pressed closer, anticipation crackling through the air.
I stepped onto the platform and walked up to the crystal.
Up close, the spear's energy was even stronger, thrumming against my senses and even making me feel slightly… intimidated? I wouldn't want to fight someone using this. The engravings along its shaft glowed faintly.
I reached out and wrapped my hands around the spear.
The moment my fingers touched it, warmth flooded through my palms. I pulled.
Nothing.
Then it was cold, almost painfully so, akin to holding ice. The spear didn't budge. Not even slightly. It felt welded to the crystal itself, as if the two had been forged as one piece.
My eyes narrowed.
I planted my feet, adjusted my grip, and pulled with everything I had. Muscles strained. Power coursed through my arms. I channelled enough strength to tear down a building.
The spear remained immovable.
What?
I released it, stepping back slightly.
This didn't make sense.
Why couldn't I move it?
Unless there was some binding on it.
I reached out again, this time sending tendrils of demonic energy into the weapon itself.
The rejection hit me hard.
Power surged outward from the spear in a brilliant flash of light, slamming into my demonic energy and expelling it violently. Pain lanced through my hands, and I jerked back, barely keeping my footing.
I stared at the weapon, feeling that familiar devilish desire rising in my chest. The urge to conquer, to dominate, to bend this thing to my will, regardless of whatever nonsense protected it.
I placed my hand back on the spear and began channelling power, calling up one of the higher-tier spells I'd learned from my time in Nazarick. The magic circle formed in my mind.
Dominate Magic Item.
The spell surged through me, demanding a massive amount of demonic power.
I felt it drain from me in a rush, the ninth-tier magic consuming more energy than I'd expected. The spell wrapped around the weapon, threads of power attempting to subjugate it, to override whatever divine binding held it in place.
The spear resisted.
I felt it pushing back against the spell, energy clashing with demonic magic in a silent battle of wills. My power continued to plummet as the spell strained, fighting for dominance.
And then the resistance increased rapidly. The weapon actively fought back, its nature rejecting my attempt at control with surprising force.
The spell failed, and I had a feeling that even if I had continued, it would have taken my genuine hours.
What the hell was this weapon?
I stood there, genuinely surprised; my demonic reserves having been considerably depleted during that spell.
The weapon had just resisted a ninth-tier spell.
Whatever bound it wasn't some simple enchantment.
The purple-robed god laughed, but it wasn't mocking. His expression held genuine amusement and, perhaps, approval. "Impressive effort! Few would dare attempt such powerful magic on a divine artefact! But the Goddess's blessing cannot be overcome by force alone!"
The crowd murmured, some disappointed, others excited to see even the Scarlet Disaster fail.
I looked at the spear again, then at the ring on my finger or where it was meant to be.
Worth a shot.
I activated the ring's power, feeling its magic flow through me.
Then I cast Dominate Magic Item again, this time channelling the spell through the ring's enhancement. The penetration effect wrapped around my magic with a purple glow.
I gritted my teeth.
Was it still resisting?
I cast it again and overlapped another spell onto it.
The spell hit the weapon differently this time.
I felt it sink in, bypassing the outer layers of protection, reaching deeper into the weapon's core, something inspected me. I felt something feel surprised at my presence, and I pulled.
The crystal shattered.
Not gradually. Not with a crack. It exploded outward in a burst of light and fragments that dissolved before they could hit anyone. The spear came free in my hands, suddenly weightless, perfectly balanced.
And then power poured into me.
A connection formed, and I felt myself stare, a pleased look on my face.
The God looked surprised, and I saw Sebas shift.
A woman stood at the edge of the plaza. She hadn't been there a second ago. I was sure of it. She'd appeared with the light, materialising as she'd stepped out of thin air.
A beautiful woman who could only be a Goddess was in front of me.
With long, pretty, blue hair, green eyes that seemed to see straight through me, wearing white and pale blue that looked both elegant and practical. A bow was slung across her back.
Her eyes locked onto mine, and her expression shifted from shock to something I couldn't quite identify.
Recognition?
Wonder?
"You," she whispered, loud enough for me to hear despite the distance. "You are the one. You are my..."
I prepared to fight.
If she wanted the spear back, she was going to need to get through my imaginary lawyers.
She stopped right in front of me, so close I could see the silver flecks in her large green eyes.
Her gaze moved from my face to the spear and back again.
Her hand reached out, not touching me, just hovering near my chest. "You are my Orion."
I blinked. "You're what?"
"My Orion." She said it with complete conviction, like it made perfect sense.
"An onion? Like the vegetable?" I asked, slightly confused.
She looked taken aback.
"What?"
"… do you need glasses? Or is this a language barrier?" I mused.
"No, I am saying that you are my Orion." She said with a hint of confusion.
"Okay…" I said. "But I'm not an Onion."
"It's Orion, not Onion!" She declared strongly.
-END-
If you wish to read up to 19 chapters in advance among my stories and other things, please visit pa/t reon * / Snipez818. I appreciate all the support!