Even the usually reticent Ryuu took an unprecedented extra glance at Jeanne while serving the salad. Then, she leaned in and quietly whispered to Aiden, "Please be extra careful during the War Game."
Finally, there was the poster girl who felt as approachable as a girl next door—the gray-haired, gray-eyed Syr Flova. She carried over a specially made dessert platter and set it in the center of the table with a beaming smile.
"This is a little token of appreciation from the shop. Congratulations on adding a new member to your family," she blessed them warmly. "I also wish you a triumphant victory in your War Game."
However, the moment Syr turned her back, that gentle smile quietly vanished. Deep within her gray eyes shone the silver brilliance of the Goddess of Beauty, Freya—a divine gaze that could see through the very essence of souls.
Interesting... This is truly too interesting, Focalors...
Under her Divine Eye, the souls of the Focalors Familia members were so dazzlingly radiant that she could barely contain herself. Leaving aside Aiden, whose soul was exceedingly dangerous and completely opaque to her sight, the others were magnificent.
Robin's soul sparkled like a constellation of stars; Hyacine's soul overflowed with the resilient and warm vitality of life; Tifa's soul was like a perfectly polished diamond, restrained yet utterly indestructible.
And this newly arrived girl named Jeanne... her soul was so incredibly pure and holy, resembling an eternally burning sacred flame that radiated boundless glory.
Any single one of them was a child capable of igniting her desire to collect. Yet, why had they all gathered around Focalors instead of her? Was Focalors's luck really just that absurdly good?
She didn't understand it, but she was deeply, profoundly shocked.
.....
The date of the War Game drew near. As the day approached, the timing ripened.
The entirety of Orario began to grow restless, with people loudly discussing the upcoming event on the streets or debating it passionately over drinks. Naturally, the frequency of adventurers diving into the Dungeon decreased. Astute merchants noticed the shift in their goods' sales, while ordinary citizens found themselves constantly distracted from their work.
Even the children playing by the roadside felt the unique atmosphere; they waved their toy swords with innocent, radiant smiles, completely immersing themselves in the excitement. Quietly but surely, Orario was craning its neck, eagerly awaiting the moment that surging heat would fully erupt.
Dots of starlight were scattered across the vast night sky. The great temple built upon countless white pillars—the Guild Headquarters—was currently engulfed in an unprecedented flurry of activity. Staff members gripping parchments and receptionists carrying overflowing boxes of documents were rushing back and forth, scrambling in all directions.
The War Game was scheduled to begin in just two days, and their workload was reaching its absolute peak.
"I can't do this anymore—I'm dying—"
"Misha, I already told you it's too heavy..."
While the staff frantically worked, the human receptionist Misha Flott slumped against Eina Tulle's back like a koala, hugging her tightly. Faced with her colleague and old friend who was crying over her depleted stamina, even Eina's tone carried a hint of exhaustion.
"Eina, what are you doing right now...?"
"I'm appealing to various parties to stay away from the battlefield perimeter... I guess you could call it writing advisory notices."
The several sheets of parchment spread across the desk were covered in Eina's elegant, flowing handwriting. The detailed section outlining the war zone where unauthorized personnel were strictly prohibited from entering clearly read: [Ruins of Shreme, Southeast of Orario].
"Shreme Castle... If I remember correctly, isn't that place occupied by bandits?" Misha asked.
"Yeah, we've already requested the Ganesha Familia to subjugate them beforehand. The nearby towns and villages had also previously submitted an Adventurer Commission to the city... so this was a good opportunity to resolve it all at once," Eina replied softly, looking down at the parchment.
Hearing her flat, listless tone, Misha stared at her profile for a moment before suddenly hopping off her back. She moved to stand beside Eina, leaning in to closely inspect the half-elf's dignified and beautiful face.
"Eina... are you worried about the Focalors Familia?"
"..." Eina's hand, gripping the pen, paused slightly.
How could she not be worried? They were just a newly established Familia. Even though Mr. Aiden kept saying he was confident, the disparity in combat power between the two sides was simply too massive. It was so vast that she couldn't even begin to imagine how they could possibly win.
Her emerald eyes wavered slightly, and her expression darkened. A War Game was no child's play. Even though the Guild repeatedly emphasized that combatants should stop before landing fatal blows, once adventurers started fighting, blades had no eyes. How could they completely hold back? Death was a common occurrence.
She was terrified that those familiar faces she had just begun to know might never return. Just the thought of it made Eina's chest ache. But this wasn't a matter a mere Guild receptionist could interfere with. She wanted to help, yet she was utterly powerless, relegated to helplessly watching from the sidelines. She understood her position perfectly well.
Harboring feelings of powerlessness and melancholy, she lowered her depressed voice.
"But, you know what? I think you can totally cheer for them in your heart!" Misha said cheerfully, seeing her best friend so downcast.
Eina looked up. "Cheer for them...?"
"Yeah! Just say, 'Do your best!' like that," Misha smiled with a child's pure innocence. "If Eina is cheering for them, I'm sure they'll be really happy about it."
Eina stared at Misha for a long while. Shortly after, she stood up silently from her chair and walked over to the window. Outside, a bright moon hung high in the sky, radiating a pristine white glow.
"...Do your best." Gazing up at that dazzling moon, Eina whispered softly, using a voice only she could hear.
.....
"Ah... I really can't wait any longer..."
Apollo narrowed his slender eyes, facing the moonlight that illuminated his dimly lit room. He sat upon an exquisitely carved golden throne, his lips gently sipping from a goblet filled with crimson wine.
This faction headquarters mansion, located far from the city's hustle and bustle, was currently shrouded in an eerie silence. Only a few people remained; the rest of the several hundred members had already departed in advance, heading toward the ancient castle ruins that would serve as the battlefield. Because the Apollo Familia was tasked with defending the castle, there were countless preparations they needed to handle.
As for him, he simply needed to stay here, quietly waiting for the good show to begin and for his goal to be achieved.
Truthfully, if it were purely about stealing members, a War Game wasn't Apollo's only method. He had plenty of shady, underhanded tricks. In fact, many current members of the Apollo Familia had been "forced to join" through such means; very few had actually joined of their own volition.
But this time was different. To openly and legitimately obtain that sun he so desperately yearned for, Apollo didn't want to leave any loose ends. To that end, he had shamelessly thrown away his pride, cashing in favors to rope in several other deities, ultimately forcing this drastically unbalanced War Game to fruition.
Of course, this was simultaneously top-tier entertainment. Indeed, to the bored gods, a War Game where mortals wagered their lives and honor was nothing more than the ultimate board game—a supreme pastime. Apollo was no different. He reveled in the thrill of treating his Familia members as chess pieces, maneuvering them across the board known as Orario. This was the inescapable nature of the gods: arrogant and deeply empty.
"My precious blazing sun... the time when you belong to me is fast approaching."
When had he fallen in love with him? Apollo's thoughts drifted back to that day. He had been gazing down at the city as usual, only to inadvertently catch sight of that white-haired boy sparring with his companion on the city walls. It was just a fleeting moment. Just a single glance. Yet, Apollo swore upon his divinity as the Sun God that he had fallen hopelessly, irrevocably in love.
Because that was an indisputable, true sun—a blazing star destined to rise and shine with boundless glory. To him, the God of the Sun, there was nothing else in this world more captivating.
The gods hungered for heroes, and to Apollo, that sun was the final hero of this era, the most perfect creation in the lower world. Therefore, he had to use the most foolproof method to obtain him. He had to shut the Guild up and leave the other covetous gods speechless. Taking him fair and square through a War Game was undoubtedly the best choice.
Apollo wallowed in his reminiscing, his pleasure rising steadily until it reached its zenith. Just imagining a near future where that sun shone for him and him alone caused his body to tremble slightly in absolute ecstasy. As the Sun God, he had zero resistance against Aiden, who was practically the incarnation of the sun itself.
"Focalors..." His thoughts snapped out of his sweet fantasy, twisting into a cold, murderous intent. "You are far too much of an eyesore. Tainting that sun with your colors is the greatest mistake you have ever made in your life. To atone for your sins, get the hell out of Orario."
Returning to reality from his delusions, Apollo stared up at the night sky through the open window. Deep within his eyes, which gazed adoringly at the silver moon, lurked a vicious, predatory glint, and the corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably.
"I leave it to you, my lovely Familia members..."
The bright moon cast its tranquil light, while suppressed, intermittent laughter echoed endlessly throughout the empty mansion.
─────
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