The familia had finalized their next plan of action and distributed the tasks to the other members.
When everyone heard that the next destination was Daedalus Street, their faces immediately turned sour.
"I'm telling you, why do we have to go back to that damned place again?"
Raul frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunched up tightly.
"I admit, the architecture there is… quite unique, but wandering around that place? I'd rather not." Cruz didn't say much, but his expression clearly showed how he felt.
"By the way, how's the security over there these days? I haven't been there for years."
Rakta, the rabbit-eared girl who was a little familiar with the area, hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"W-well, I stayed there for a while when I was learning how to draw maps. The public order is… okay, I guess. But it's true that a lot of thugs, wanted adventurers, and other familias gather there. Fights don't usually involve ordinary folks, but compared to other districts, they happen a lot more often."
"And pickpockets too. My Magic Tide Pen got stolen there once."
Her rabbit ears twitched as she spoke, her face showing a trace of lingering frustration.
The Magic Tide Pen might not look like much, but for most adventurers, it was a pretty expensive item, after all, it was a magic tool worth about 50,000 valis, a fortune even for Lv.2 and Lv.3 adventurers.
While the others were still grumbling about Daedalus Street, Fron, after saying goodbye to Ais, had already left the base with Bete.
"It's about time. Those guys must be hyped up about the upcoming War Game. If I were them, I'd be out drinking too."
Fron smirked, hands in his pockets just like Bete, walking casually down the street.
"Tch, what's the point of picking on the weak?"
Fron glanced sideways at Bete, raising an eyebrow at his tone and laughing softly.
"Picking on the weak is pointless, sure. But when the weak provoke the strong, isn't it only fair to strike back? They're the ones who brought trouble to us first, and besides, I've got a little score to settle."
Normally, a bar brawl between adventurers wasn't anything special. Get a few drinks in, and fists start flying, that's everyday life.
But getting attacked right before the War Game? That was a different story.
...
Flamebee Pavilion.
Fron and Bete swaggered through the door.
"Boss, two mugs of Red Honey Ale."
"Got it!" The dwarf bartender, recognizing his two regulars, grinned broadly.
As they walked toward the bar, people's eyes followed them, and murmurs filled the room.
"That's Night Weaver and Vanargand. I heard they both hit Level 6 now."
"Damn… Loki Familia's elites. Better not mess with them. The Night Weaver's not bad, but the Vanargand? Heard his temper's nasty."
"Heh, the Vanargand's gotten into fights here more than once. Everyone's used to it by now."
Amid the whispering patrons sat a few people who clearly weren't just ordinary adventurers.
They wore matching black uniforms, looking arrogant, until their faces stiffened the moment they saw Fron and Bete.
Especially Hyakinthos, the ponytailed man. He looked like he'd just swallowed something rotten.
"Night Weaver… Vanargand…"
Fron caught sight of them from the corner of his eye, grinning as he turned and walked straight toward their table.
"Well, well. Isn't this the pretty boy himself?"
"Pretty boy" was Fron's nickname for Hyakinthos, the handsome, fawning devotee of Apollo.
"You bastard, who the hell-"
Before he could finish, Hyakinthos suddenly found himself airborne.
The movement was so fast it was almost invisible to the naked eye.
"You… you've got no honor!" His companions jumped up in panic, backing away from Fron, whose expression was full of mockery.
"Heh, you're the idiots who were causing a racket early in the morning. Do you have any idea how cranky I get when someone wakes me up?" Fron's smile turned cold.
Back when he had no strength, he used to keep his head down, afraid to cause trouble for himself or his familia.
But now that he had power, it was a different story.
Standing at the top of the pyramid gave him every right to look down on others.
"Your Apollo Familia has been stirring up trouble all over the city. Others might not dare to touch you because you're a major familia, but I'm not scared."
He cracked his knuckles and stepped forward.
Bang! Thud! Crash!
The whole tavern erupted into chaos. Bete, already in a foul mood, naturally joined in.
As luck would have it, all the members Hyakinthos brought along were Apollo Familia's core fighters, one Level 3 and four Level 2s.
The result? They were all beaten to a pulp.
Level 3, Level 2, it didn't matter. Against two Level 6s, they were like chickens.
Fron and Bete didn't even bother drawing weapons or wearing armor. Barehanded, they left the Apollo members half-dead.
When the two finally left, looking perfectly satisfied, the tavern fell silent.
Everyone just stared at the battered Apollo members on the floor, stunned.
One adventurer, dazed, raised his glass and took a sip of rum.
The burn in his throat snapped him back to reality.
"Holy crap… Apollo Familia's done for. Beaten by Night Weaver and the Vanargand like that."
His friend sighed.
"Yeah, serves them right. Arrogant pricks. Didn't even realize when they hit a wall."
"You're not seeing the whole picture. Look at their injuries, broken bones everywhere. They'll be stuck in bed for weeks. Don't forget… the day after tomorrow is the War Game between Apollo and Hestia Familia."
"Heh, what a joke. Their main force just got wrecked. What are they gonna fight with? Might as well surrender."
Some sharper adventurers saw the deeper meaning behind it all.
Night Weaver, Fron Argon, had a personal grudge with Apollo Familia. Striking now, right before the War Game, was no coincidence.
"Night Weaver's ruthless, huh?"
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T/N: A mass release of 16 chapters (including all the bonus chapters); enjoy~