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A few hours earlier, at the peak of the Folkvangr tower, towering under Orario's sky, the Goddess of Beauty sat before a large silver mirror. Her delicate fingers were applying a rose-colored lipstick, while her silver hair swayed beautifully with every slight movement of her shoulders.
The morning air in Freya's residence felt warm and fragrant, filled with the scent of white roses that always adorned her private room. Behind her, several attendants stood in neat rows, barely daring to breathe, afraid of disturbing the goddess as she prepared to attend Denatus—a meeting of the gods held only at specific times.
Freya let out a small sigh. "Haaah... how troublesome," she murmured in a coquettish yet tired tone. "Horn could have replaced me. But... It's too risky for her to go to Denatus in my form."
She tilted her head, gazing at her reflection in the mirror—a goddess who appeared flawless. But her eyes, amethyst eyes that sparkled like sacred gems, hinted at something deeper: curiosity. "I wonder... what is that little girl doing right now?"
Gently, Freya closed her eyes. A faint purple light began to pulse in her pupils—a flash of Vana Seith, the spiritual bond connecting her soul to Horn. In an instant, her vision traveled far from the Folkvangr tower to a warmer, simpler place: the kitchen of the Hostess of Fertility.
Freya's sight now merged with Horn's. "Oh?" she whispered, a smile spreading across her face. "She's cooking?"
The scene evoked a memory in the goddess. Long ago, before knowing Shirou, she—or more precisely, her form as Syr—was completely inept at cooking. The taste was never right, the seasoning was often excessive, and the result... hmm, even Anya once ran away just from smelling it.
But since Shirou patiently taught her, day by day, step by step—how to slice, stir, measure seasoning—Freya began to enjoy the activity. Not because her cooking became perfect, but because of Shirou's gentle gaze and calm tone each time he guided her. Now, she could cook quite well... and she knew Horn was surely imitating her habits this morning.
"Usually around this time... I make a lunch box for Bell," Freya said softly, her smile tilting slightly. "So Horn wants to continue my role, huh?"
However, her sense of calm was shattered when she saw what the gray-haired girl was doing in the kitchen. Horn was smiling sweetly—a smile too sweet for something innocent—while her hands sprinkled something deep red into the stir-fry.
"Eh... that's... dragon chili from the eighteenth floor?" Freya's eyebrows rose.
A tickling little laugh escaped Horn's lips—a gentle laugh that held mischief. "Hehehe... just wait and see the rabbit boy's face later... choking on love or choking on spice, I don't care."
Freya watched her through the Vana Seith connection with a mix of amusement and worry. "Well... at least it's not poison," she murmured, smiling wryly as she closed the connection.
The purple light in her eyes faded, and the world before her returned to the beautiful room full of the scent of roses and jewels. Freya stood up slowly, smoothing her long, shimmering white dress. "Horn, Horn... sometimes I don't know whether to scold you or praise you for your loyalty, which is... overly excessive."
She looked at her reflection once more, then gave a faint smile—a smile only possessed by a goddess who knew how to play with the hearts of both humans and gods. "Alright," she whispered to her own shadow, "Denatus awaits."
With graceful steps and the scent of roses following her every movement, Freya left her room, heading for the meeting of the gods.
***
Denatus—the most sacred and also the noisiest meeting among the gods—was held that day on one of the highest floors of the Babel tower, in a magnificent hall only accessible to divine entities. Marble pillars soared towards the ceiling, shrouded in golden light, while the aroma of fine wine and sacred incense filled the air.
As the large doors opened, the sound of light footsteps was heard, their rhythm soft but echoing in the vast room. All conversation stopped instantly. The gods, who had previously been lounging lazily, laughing, or bickering, simultaneously turned towards the source of the sound.
"Ah, finally the star of Denatus has arrived," said Hermes with theatrical flair, hand on his chest as if welcoming the lead actress on a theater stage.
"As usual, Freya... you even make Babel's light seem dull," praised Dionysus with his polite smile.
Several other gods joined in laughter, some snorted, some just stared at her with a mix of admiration and envy. The aura emanating from Freya wasn't just beauty—it was like she brought an atmosphere from another world, something intoxicating, yet also frightening.
Freya merely stepped gracefully, as if not hearing the praises or taunts. "You're all still the same," she said softly, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Noisy like a marketplace."
The God Ganesha laughed loudly, "GANEESHAAA AGREES!" his voice echoed until birds outside the tower flew away, startled.
Freya just snorted softly, then her gaze shifted, observing each face present there one by one.
On the left, Loki was sipping wine while grinning mischievously at her, her red eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Hephaestus sat quietly in her chair, one eye hidden behind an eyepatch, seeming more busy writing small notes than paying attention to the atmosphere. Hermes, as usual, was already busy chatting with Dionysus, while Hestia, who had just arrived and sat somewhat far in the corner, looked awkward, trying to avoid the gazes of the noisier gods.
But there was one figure that caught Freya's attention. In the corner of the room, sitting quietly and expressionlessly, was a god with long black hair, with thick bangs covering part of his face. His hands touched a small cup, but he hadn't touched the drink at all.
"Soma?" Freya murmured in her heart, her eyes narrowing slowly.
She raised her thin eyebrows slightly, staring longer. Usually, that wine-making god never bothered to come to Denatus. The man preferred to tinker in his basement, fermenting wine.
But today, he was present. And his presence wasn't without reason.
"Interesting..." whispered Freya, playing with the ends of her silver hair with her fingertips.
Meanwhile, Loki, who noticed Freya's small reaction, grinned. "Heeh, it's rare to see you interested in another god, don't tell me you're aiming for something from Soma? Do you want him to make a special wine for you, oh attention-thirsty Goddess of Love?" she teased in a half-mocking tone.
Freya turned her head slowly, her purple eyes reflecting the crystal light from the room's lamps. Her smile was faint, soft... but there was something behind it—an ambiguity that made it hard for anyone to guess if she was joking or threatening.
"Who knows," she said calmly, her tone like the whisper of a cold wind creeping into Loki's ears. "Perhaps I just want to... taste something I've never tried before."
Loki blinked, then chuckled. "Heh, in that case, I hope Soma doesn't collapse before he gets a chance to offer you a drink, Freya."
Freya just looked forward again, a faint smile still gracing her face. Her gaze briefly returned to Soma, who remained silent in the corner of the room, like a motionless shadow.
Right at that moment, the chime of a golden bell echoed throughout the Denatus hall—loud, bouncing off the white marble walls. The gods who had been joking immediately sat in their respective seats, the atmosphere changing to a more formal one.
Denatus officially began.
The Denatus meeting proceeded quickly and boringly for Freya. The voices of the gods vying for attention, joking, and teasing each other, only sounded like the buzzing of flies in her ears. She gazed at the wine cup in her hand, stirring it slowly without interest—until finally, a small spark made her lips smile.
Loki and Hestia.
Those two gods were like children who never tired of arguing.
"Listen up, that white rabbit boy of yours just won by luck!" shouted Loki while slapping the table, her voice thundering in the room.
Hestia retorted by glaring. "At least Bell doesn't need to hide behind others to exist, you two-faced fox!"
"Hah?! What did you just say, you hunchbacked loli?!"
Freya suppressed a small laugh behind her hand as the cheers and whistles of the other gods filled the room, further fueling the argument. Hermes even whistled mischievously, while Ganesha shouted, for whom it was unclear, "GANESHA SUPPORTS THIS QUARREL!"
Finally, after throwing insults and sharp comments at each other for almost ten minutes, Loki sighed in annoyance. "Alright, truce. Just for this time, okay?"
"Hmmph, agreed. But only this time!" Hestia replied firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.
One of the host gods, already tired of trying to control them, quickly announced the decision results.
"For Bell Cranel of Hestia Familia, the alias Little Rookie remains."
"And for Lefiya Viridis of Loki Familia, the alias Thousand Elf remains."
The meeting room erupted with the mixed applause and laughter of the gods. Freya herself only smiled faintly, her eyes reflecting the candlelight dancing on the marble table.
"An alias is just a name," she whispered, raising her cup half-heartedly. "But... sometimes a name can determine the direction of a person's destiny."
Before taking a sip of wine, her eyes shifted to Loki and Hestia, who were still glaring sharply at each other like two cats ready to fight again.
The Denatus discussion expanded from alias matters to more serious news—news of war. Hermes, who had been joking just a minute ago, now raised his eyebrows while tapping the table, conveying the rumors he had just heard. "Incoming news: Ares is mobilizing his army, reportedly intending to move towards Orario," he said in a half-serious, half-mocking tone.
The atmosphere suddenly changed; whispers rolled through the marble seats. Hephaestus shrugged casually. "In that case, just leave the problem to Loki and Freya Familia. Those two are more expert in handling this matter." She placed her pen on her notes, seeming unwilling to get more involved than giving practical advice.
Loki looked towards Hephaestus with a tilted smile. "Let's just send that Ares to Tenkai," she said lightly—but her words contained a cold threat. "You know what I mean, right? So he won't trouble Orario anymore." Her voice vibrated with sarcasm; that simple sentence implied a one-way meaning: not just moving, but ending—discarding an enemy into an abyss with no return.
Hermes leaned forward, his fingers tapping the marble table lightly, but his tone held a subtle warning. "Hey, don't be reckless, Loki. If Ares dies, Rakia will be in chaos. A country without its king isn't our problem, but believe me, the spilled blood could reach Orario's doorstep. You want to deal with political drama that spreads here?"
Loki raised her glass, took a small sip, then placed it back calmly. "Political drama? I'm too lazy to get involved in that, Hermes," she said casually. "If Ares is really stubborn, it's better to teach him a lesson he won't forget. Just send his troops back to Rakia with bruised faces; then we force him to withdraw the Excelia his troops obtained after fighting our Familias."
Freya's eyes sparkled with a charm no less cold. "I agree. No need to dirty our hands more than necessary. If Ares truly crosses the line, let my Familia show the difference between courage and foolishness." Her voice was soft, but it echoed like a spell, making the air in the room feel tense.
That conversation reminded some gods of a past event: Ares had once tried a similar move—sending his troops to attack Orario—but in the end, his troops were easily repelled, running back to Rakia with bruised bodies and shattered morale. The atmosphere in the room shifted to become quieter.
"If there's no other business," said Ganesha in a cheerful tone, breaking the subsiding atmosphere. "Can Ganesha close this Denatus?"
But before anyone could answer, Freya slowly raised her right hand. The movement was graceful, calm, but enough to attract the attention of the entire room. The sounds of rustling fabric, clinking jewelry, and small whispers stopped instantly. All eyes focused on her—the eyes of the gods, usually jesting, now stared with curiosity.
"Go ahead, Freya," said Goibniu, his voice heavy but polite.
Freya looked around, her amethyst eyes shining softly. "Before we close this meeting," she said softly but clearly, "I want to ask something. A few weeks ago, someone caught my attention—an adventurer in a black robe with a skull mask. Do any of you know him?"
A momentary silence. Freya's gaze swept over the faces of the gods one by one. Unfortunately, unlike humans, the faces of the gods were too perfect—no emotional tremor she could read, no micro-expression she could catch. Only ambiguous smiles and feigned indifferent stares.
Hermes leaned forward, his smile still slick as usual. "Hmm... a skull mask, huh? Could he be a member of Evilus? They do like to be dramatic."
Freya shook her head slowly, strands of her silver hair swaying gently. "I don't think so. His energy... is different. There's no sense of hatred or malicious intent that usually accompanies Evilus members."
Hephaestus, sitting across from her, tapped the table with a finger covered by her glove. "In that case, how strong is that person that you, Freya, ask about at Denatus?"
Freya looked at her for a moment, then answered in a light tone, yet enough to make the air tense. "At least, level five. And what's more impressive—he was capable of cutting Hedin's lightning."
Several gods were stunned, and sounds of held breaths were heard from various directions. The name Hedin alone was enough to make them stop joking.
"Hedin?" Hermes tilted his head. "The lightning of Hedin the Hildrsleif? That's not something that can be broken so easily."
Freya smiled faintly. "I heard it directly from him."
Dionysus, who had been mostly silent until now, raised his eyebrows. "When exactly did that happen?" His tone sounded too calm, but Freya, being perceptive, caught a slight tremor in his words—there was something he was hiding.
"That night," Freya answered softly. "After he saved a girl named Liliruca from the Soma Familia's headquarters." Her words ended with a glance towards Soma, who sat silently in the corner of the room, like an emotionless statue.
The atmosphere grew heavier. The sound of conversation stopped completely, leaving only the hiss of breaths and gods exchanging glances.
Suddenly, a small but clear voice broke the silence.
"Ah, I just remembered! That's Mr. Skull!" exclaimed Hestia, pointing at the air unconsciously.
All eyes turned to her. It took a full second before the petite goddess realized her foolishness. Her face immediately paled, then turned bright red. "A-ah—that! I mean... uhm... skull... eh, that skull is cute, right? Hehe..."
"..."
Hestia hurriedly covered her mouth with both hands. Oh no, why did I say that?! she thought in a panic.