*Thud, thud, thud!*
This commotion.
Was less like someone running.
And more like a panicked boar charging recklessly down the hallway.
The sound grew closer and louder, until finally stopping right outside the heavy door.
Immediately after.
*BANG!*
The reception room door was violently shoved open.
The solid oak door slammed against the wall with a heavy thud.
Eina jumped, her shoulders jerking, the stack of Guild cards she hadn't yet put away nearly flying out of her hands.
She whipped her head around.
The moment her gaze landed on the figure in the doorway, she froze completely.
Even with her good professional composure as an advisor, she couldn't help but let her jaw drop, her expression management utterly failing in that instant.
Blocking the doorway was...
A mass of quivering fat, heaving with ragged breaths. The exquisitely tailored robe was stretched taut, every button looking as if it might pop off any second and become a dangerous projectile.
The originally delicate, well-defined features that should have belonged to an elf were now completely squashed into a fleshy mound.
The ears, which should have been slender, were also deformed by the mounds of flesh on his cheeks, looking absurdly comical.
He was the highest authority of the Guild.
The Guild Master.
— Royman Martel.
An elf who, lacking any elven restraint, indulged in pleasure and gluttony, resulting in this shamefully obese form that made all elves cringe.
He was even addicted to money and power, frequently squandering wealth at casinos and openly discriminating against half-elves.
Because of this...
Even Riveria, a member of the royal family with excellent upbringing, would frown and describe him as a "disgrace to the race" when mentioning him.
Royman Madir, as the chairman of the Adventurer's Guild, was often privately and sarcastically referred to by Adventurers, and even by his fellow elves, as the "Guild's Pig."
But at this moment...
This top official of the Guild was drenched in sweat.
Even his hair, usually meticulously groomed, was somewhat messy, and he didn't even have the presence of mind to care.
"Huff... Huff..."
Royman didn't even stop to wipe the sweat that was about to flow into his eyes.
Those small eyes, squeezed by fat until they were only the size of mung beans, quickly scanned the room.
When his gaze locked onto the black-haired god sitting on the sofa, calmly holding a teacup...
A flash of light, like seeing a literal lifesaver, instantly erupted in those small eyes.
"Lord... Lord Heimer!"
Royman let out a high-pitched cry that sounded like a wail.
Having no time to pay attention to Eina, who was still in a state of petrification nearby, his massive body rushed in with a level of agility that completely defied the laws of physics.
As he passed by Eina, his broad frame brought a gust of wind that directly pushed the slender Half-Elf advisor, causing her to stagger and nearly crash into the wall.
"Ouch!"
Eina cried out in surprise, barely managing to steady herself by leaning against the wall.
But at this moment, Royman only had eyes for that deity.
He rushed in front of Heimer, snapped his legs together, and gave Heimer a standard ninety-degree bow.
His massive belly became the biggest obstacle at that moment; the two rolls of fat squeezed together, making the movement exceptionally difficult and painful, and his face instantly turned the color of pig liver.
However...
He gritted his teeth and forced his waist down.
"I was unaware of your grand arrival! Please excuse me for not welcoming you sooner! My deepest apologies!"
While maintaining that difficult bowing posture, Royman pulled out a handkerchief already soaked with sweat and desperately wiped the cold sweat continuously pouring from his forehead.
His voice was trembling.
"Those fools downstairs didn't notify me immediately! It's truly... so rude! So incredibly rude!"
"Please, you must forgive me!"
This scene...
If the Adventurers in the Guild Hall, who usually suffered this fat man's disdain, were to see this, their jaws would likely drop to the floor.
This was Royman!
The guy who would put on airs even when facing the captains of the Loki Familia and Freya Familia, acting as if he wanted to look at people through his nostrils.
Even if the primary gods of those major Familias visited in person, this fellow would at most exchange a few pleasantries; when had anyone ever seen him act so humble?
It was practically like a mouse seeing a cat.
Leaning against the wall and rubbing her sore shoulder, Eina watched this scene, her mind unable to quite process what was happening.
Seeing this ball of flesh rush in and bow so submissively...
*Snap.*
Startled, Hestia bit her cookie in half, and it fell onto her skirt.
She widened her sapphire-like eyes.
Heimer also slightly raised his eyebrows.
He had an impression of this guy.
Greedy, gluttonous, arrogant, and discriminatory toward half-elves.
He had basically brought shame to the entire elven race.
In the past, he had been indifferent to Familias without fame or strength.
However, because this guy truly possessed genuine management skills and sincerely hoped for the Guild to improve, he sat firmly in the position of Guild Chairman.
But...
This fawning appearance...
Heimer didn't even need to use any divine authority.
Just thinking with his toes, he knew.
This fellow definitely wouldn't act without a profit motive.
Behind this, there was an invisible whip lashing him.
"Chairman Royman."
"What is it?"
"Has the Guild upgraded its business services?"
"Does even a small matter like updating Familia information require the Lord Chairman to make a personal trip?"
"If that's the case, then your service is truly... so thorough it's overwhelming."
Heimer's words were laced with thorns.
Royman's round body shuddered violently.
He wasn't stupid; he could naturally hear the sarcasm in the deity's words.
"No, no, no... Lord Heimer, you flatter me too much!"
Royman hurriedly straightened his back—causing his overburdened spine to let out a crisp crack.
He put on a forced smile, the fat on his face squeezing together, making the smile look worse than crying.
"Serving the gods is our Guild's duty! There's no such thing as trouble..."
"With just a word from you, not only would I, Royman, make a trip, but it would be only right even if I ran until my legs broke!"
After saying that...
Royman continued to wipe away a handful of sweat.
It seemed he felt the pleasantries were sufficient.
And that person's command brooked no delay.
Royman took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the anxiety he felt when facing a god.
He leaned forward half a step, deliberately lowering his voice, and his expression became more solemn—though it looked somewhat comical on that face.
"Um... Lord Heimer."
"Actually... the reason I rushed here so urgently..."
"Is because there is another extremely important matter..."
Royman swallowed hard, stole a glance at Hestia and Eina nearby, and then stared into Heimer's eyes, saying each word deliberately:
"Lord Ouranos... wishes to see you."
"..."
"..."
The air froze.
The moment those four words left Royman's mouth.
The entire reception room seemed as if the pause button had been pressed.
Eina's hand, which had been organizing documents, froze in mid-air.
She looked at Royman in disbelief, even doubting if she had heard correctly.
Ouranos.
The Lord God of the Guild.
The creator of Orario.
The administrator of all gods before they descended to the lower world.
The legendary great god who, ever since the gods descended, had locked himself in the altar beneath the Guild, using his divine power to suppress the Dungeon, and rarely even attended the Denatus.
For the residents of Orario.
The name Ouranos represented absolute authority and an unreachable mystery.
He was like the cornerstone of this city: silent, yet omnipresent.
Normally, let alone meeting people...
Even for the primary gods of major Familias, wanting to see him was as difficult as ascending to heaven.
But now.
That great god.
Had actually taken the initiative to request a meeting with Heimer?
"U... Ouranos?!"
Hestia let out a cry of surprise and bounced right off the sofa.
As a goddess, she knew the weight of that old man better than Eina.
Although they were all gods, in the heavens...
Ouranos, as a great god...
Was also among those who needed to be looked up to.
"That ol'—*cough cough*, Ouranos wants to see Heimer?"
Hestia's large eyes darted back and forth between Heimer and Royman, her face full of disbelief.
Heimer, on the other hand, had sensed this long ago.
After all...
There weren't many people who could order Royman around.
And he had caused so much commotion over the past few days.
If that old fellow sitting beneath the Guild could still sit steadily and turn a blind eye to all this, that would be truly strange.
As the actual controller of the Guild and the maintainer of order in Orario...
It was impossible for Ouranos to remain calm and indifferent.
"Very well."
Heimer nodded.
His movement was crisp and straightforward.
Speaking of which...
It was indeed time to meet that old fellow.
After all, for some matters, rather than letting the people below keep guessing, it was better to lay the cards on the table in person.
Since Ouranos had decided on a formal meeting, there was no need to play Tai Chi here.
"Lead the way."
Heimer stood up and smoothed out some wrinkles on his clothes.
"Ah... yes! Yes, yes, yes!"
Seeing that Heimer agreed so readily,
Royman immediately felt a sense of relief, and his entire body went slack, his mound of fat beginning to jiggle with his movement.
"Lord Heimdall, please! This way, please!"
Royman quickly stepped aside, acting like the humblest of servants, bowing and scraping as he led the way.
Heimer started walking.
Hestia saw this and quickly patted the cookie crumbs off her skirt, jumping down from the sofa, preparing to follow.
Since they were going to see Ouranos, how could she possibly be absent?
One must know that Ouranos had once allied with other major gods in the Celestial Realm to oppose Heimer.
In a scene where enemies meet, their eyes burn with hatred—
Would they start fighting each other to the death?
She absolutely had to be there to support Heimer!
However,
Just as Hestia took a step,
Royman, who had just been leading the way with a fawning expression, suddenly stopped.
His massive body turned nimbly, directly blocking Hestia's path.
It was like a wall of flesh, instantly sealing off the way forward.
"Um... Lady Hestia..."
Royman rubbed his chubby hands, sweat reappearing on his face, his expression becoming extremely troubled.
He didn't even dare to look directly into Hestia's eyes, which had instantly narrowed, his gaze shifting around.
"I... I am terribly sorry..."
"In Lord Ouranos's divine decree... it was specifically commanded..."
Royman gritted his teeth and forced himself to speak:
"This time... only... only Lord Heimdall is to see him..."
"Huh?!"
Hestia froze.
Her usually excited, large eyes instantly widened.
She immediately placed both hands firmly on her hips.
"Only... only Heimer alone?!"
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