After enduring wave after wave of hardship and overcoming unexpected "abnormal incidents," the final result was minimal damage, at least, that's how it sounded in the official announcement.
But the adventurers who participated in this operation all knew the truth: their survival came at the cost of "abandoning" many comrades of the Dionysus Familia.
That cold, iron-clad cruelty crushed the morale of those who escaped with their lives.
Even though this was the first time these factions had fought together, and they normally had little interaction, the near-total annihilation of an entire Familia was a brutal fact far too heavy for young adventurers who had never experienced the "Dark Age."
Especially when, putting themselves in that position, if another "abnormal incident" were to happen in the future, and their Familia was the one targeted… what would the result be? Would they be able to do any better than the Dionysus Familia?
The thought alone was despairing, the conclusion chilling.
Although they were determined not to show any negativity in front of their lower-ranking members, they couldn't hide the shadow lingering on their faces.
What surprised Fron the most, though he also found it reasonable…
After the incident, the one who suffered the most severe psychological trauma wasn't anyone else , it was Lefiya.
Lefiya and Filvis had grown close enough and elves naturally have very small social circles, and the chance of finding a true kindred friend was already painfully low. That alone showed how much Filvis meant to her.
To witness such a good friend die right before her eyes shattered the heart of someone so young.
"A small fry is a small fry. If you don't have the strength, stop embarrassing yourself."
Bete, arms crossed and leaning against a tree in the courtyard corner, showed his sharp wolf fangs, full of disdain and contempt.
Sitting on the wall, one leg dangling, Fron rested his cheek on a hand and gave him a sideways glance.
"She's only thirteen, isn't she? As an adventurer, she should have been prepared for something like this from the moment she started. Maybe she just needs time to adjust?"
"Hmph"
That cold snort was barely a response. Then Bete kicked off the ground and vanished from sight in a burst of speed.
As for where he went? Fron knew perfectly well.
Having been out-maneuvered by the mastermind and realizing once again his own lack of strength, Bete was probably heading to the Dungeon to vent and cool off his explosive temper.
Fron then looked thoughtfully at the lifeless elf girl sitting on the bench in the courtyard, hollow eyes, drooping ears, inward-turned feet, slumped posture, and an aura of complete collapse.
He heard that even Ais and the others couldn't get a reaction out of her. She simply sat there, as if displaced from the world around her… like she had become nothing more than a doll.
In the end, after unanimous discussion among the ladies, they moved her roommate Elfy, who had nearly fallen apart from crying while trying to comfort her, to a different room.
Sighing, Fron rose and stood on the outer wall of the Twilight Manor, looking toward their home base.
Compared to its usual liveliness, the compound was now much quieter. Even the few members passing by no longer had their usual smiles.
The whole home was filled with the silence and emptiness of defeat.
The Artificial Dungeon suppression campaign had been planned carefully, with every preparation made.
Yet after achieving their objective, a demonic reversal overturned everything, crushing all the adventurers' results.
Whether adventurers or gods, none could deny the cruel reality brought by the unending schemes of Enyo, who had once again remained unseen on the stage.
Their enemy was vicious beyond imagination, even sacrificing their own allies and gods as "offerings" for their altar. That ruthlessness was the true embodiment of "absolute evil."
...
The morning after the operation.
Fron followed his usual routine, doing his morning training.
As the nominal executive and actually one of the four main pillars of his Familia, Fron was one of the few who wasn't affected much by the failure.
In fact, he was in a decent mood. After the long continuous high-intensity battles in the artificial dungeon, he estimated that his stats should have increased significantly.
Combined with the gains in knowledge absorption, he suspected he'd soon reach the threshold for the advanced experience needed for his next level up…
Thinking about his upcoming plans, he moved through his training purely on instinct.
"Huh? Loki? You're actually seeing Orario at four in the morning? Did the sun rise from the west today!?"
Who didn't know what his goddess was like? A drunkard through and through, sleeping all day, expecting her to wake up early was less realistic than expecting her to manage the Familia properly.
"Tch, as expected of you, Fron. This failure didn't affect you at all?"
Fron set down his wooden sword, shrugged, and wiped his sweat with a towel.
"Isn't that normal? Most of life is spent failing over and over again. Success is the rare exception, isn't it?"
"..."
"Since when did you become philosophical?"
"Call me a scholar."
"Alright, alright, jokes aside, I'm going to inspect the site. Want to come with me?"
"I'll pass. Nothing interesting about looking at chunks of meat. I've got other things to deal with."
Loki squinted at him, then chuckled and patted his shoulder.
"Fron, you really are impossible to read."
"…"
...
Watching Loki hurry away, Finn looked toward the northeast part of the city.
"No news yet? …I should go check myself."
After a moment of thought, he made up his mind and leapt away swiftly.
…
Daedalus Street.
At this point, not only the battlefield but the entire district had been completely locked down by the city's security, the Ganesha Familia, along with staff from the Guild Headquarters. The residents had all been forcibly evacuated.
As the sun slowly rose over the horizon, the red-haired goddess stood alone on a round rooftop with no escorts, gazing at the center of the street where the man-made dungeon lay hidden…