"So noisy."
A chilling voice cut through the air like a blade.
The room trembled. A deathly toll echoed across the stone floor, and a strange vibration ran through the entire chamber. Dust drifted down from the ceiling, and a visible line split the floor beneath Valletta's feet.
"Ugh—!"
Valletta dropped to one knee, blood trailing from the corner of her lips. She stared, stunned, at the woman who had thus far remained silent.
Alfia.
She had opened her eyes, those mismatched eyes, and released an oppressive force that felt like death itself.
"One blow?" The Dis sisters muttered, stunned.
Their expressions, usually filled with mischief and provocation, now turned solemn. A rare fear flickered in their eyes.
Alfia's voice was as cold as frost. "I despise meaningless noise. So shut up. You will be used, and we will use you. Don't complain."
Her tone left no room for argument.
Valletta's expression contorted, but she didn't dare raise her voice. Unlike Zald, the woman before her was truly dangerous, ruthless, indifferent, and completely unwilling to tolerate even the slightest annoyance, not someone you could provoke casually.
"Alright, alright." Erebus spoke up from his elevated seat, waving a hand. "Let's end this little farce. Infighting before the operation even begins won't get us anywhere."
He smiled, voice amused but chilling. "At the very least, Zald forced Orario to reveal a trump card. Consider it a perfect rehearsal before we initiate the first phase."
He rested his chin on one hand and said, "If you're dissatisfied, go find that hidden adventurer and kill him. It doesn't matter how many ants die in the process."
His words carried a disturbing nonchalance, as if talking about stepping on insects.
"All we need are a few sacrifices to ignite the fireworks that signal the beginning of our grand feast, spanning the very end of this world."
"Tch." Valletta turned back toward Zald. "Can we really trust you?"
Zald snorted, voice rumbling like a beast. "Stop wasting my time with your yapping. I just overate recently. If I tried to swallow a giant whale right now, I'd burst. So I'm going to sleep for a bit. Don't disturb me, bugs."
Late at night.
Akira had just stepped out of the bath, the warmth of the water still clinging to his skin. He was alone in his room, towel drying his silver hair, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Just then, a soft knock came at the door.
His eyes lit up.
"It's about time." He murmured, already knowing who it would be.
"Come in."
The door opened quietly, revealing a petite girl. Short-haired, lean-bodied, and dressed in a set of plain yet slightly revealing pajamas, Lyra stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Her steps were light, but the soft sway of her chest beneath the thin fabric didn't go unnoticed.
It seemed tonight she was dressed more comfortably than usual, one less layer of restraint, and the difference was palpable.
"Fufu." She smirked. "Someone looks eager."
"Lyra, please…" Akira chuckled as he walked forward and embraced her gently.
Her body fit against his like a perfect mold. Warm, soft, and tender, he could feel the subtle bounce of her skin through the thin fabric.
"Don't move for now." She whispered, settling into his arms with a teasing smile.
Heat radiated through their embrace, her warmth slipping under his skin, seeping into the corners of his desire. The fragrance that lingered around her was soothing.
His previously relaxed nerves tensed in anticipation, a subtle thrill curling in his chest.
"Relax…" She said gently, her voice like a warm breeze. "It's just the two of us now."
She playfully swayed her delicate feet, her breath brushing against his collarbone. Feeling the strength in Akira's arms tighten, she smiled, a sweet, mischievous curve of her lips.
Akira shifted slightly, placing his hands gently on her waist so that they now faced each other directly. Their gazes met and their breaths caught.
Time seemed to slow, as though the world itself had decided to pause and leave them alone in the moonlight.
Then, slowly, they kissed. It began softly, a featherlight brush of lips. But warmth built between them like a growing flame. Soon, the kiss deepened
Akira wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, as if afraid she would disappear. Lyra, in turn, slipped her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing through his damp hair. Only the sound of breathing filled the room.
Silver moonlight poured in through the window, gently draping the scene in a dreamy, ethereal glow.
Eventually, the kiss broke. Their foreheads touched, breath mingling, hearts pounding in sync.
"Go on." Lyra whispered breathlessly.
"Good husband." She added with a smirk.
Night passed, giving way to a dreary dawn cloaked beneath overcast skies. The sun barely pierced through the thick veil of clouds hanging over the city of Orario.
Another afternoon beneath this somber ceiling.
"The wall made of super-hardened metal was destroyed?" Hermes muttered with raised brows, his expression unreadable.
He reviewed the latest report, not just a document, but firsthand information delivered straight to his ears.
"Yes," came the calm, composed response from the woman walking slightly behind him.
"The discovery was made by King of Freya Familia. He personally investigated the damaged factory. According to his account, someone within Evilus possesses martial prowess of an extraordinary level."
The speaker, with her long, flowing aqua-colored hair, was none other than Asfi Al Andromeda, Hermes' most capable follower.
Though she had matured from a girl into a full-grown woman, her youthful appearance betrayed her age. Even so, the refined aura she exuded spoke of intelligence and composure, a living embodiment of the word secretary, albeit with a sharper edge.
At just fifteen years old, Asfi was already a Level 2 adventurer on the cusp of breaking through to the next level.
After absorbing her report, Hermes exaggerated a shrug, a habitual mix of drama and casual charm.
"If even Orario's strongest acknowledges his skill, I don't want to imagine how terrifying that person must be." He said, his voice half in jest, half in dread.
The mood in the city mirrored the dreary weather: gloomy, heavy, and filled with unease.
Pedestrians walked with downcast expressions, shoulders hunched as if trying to avoid attention. Women and children, especially the latter, hurried along the streets with guarded eyes, constantly checking their surroundings.
Hermes and Asfi strolled through one of these lifeless avenues. They were not merely taking a walk, they were on duty. Listening to intel, inspecting the conditions of the city, sniffing out leads and signs of abnormality.
Hermes played many roles in Orario. The neutral mediator, the wandering messenger, the go-between among rival factions, the back-alley guide who knew how to slip into places unseen. As a multitasking information broker, he read the wind from every direction, an ever-turning weather vane in the storm of adventurer politics.
Rather than sit behind a desk, Hermes chose to walk the streets himself, trusting his instincts to sniff out the city's hidden currents.
Yes, Hermes, god of travel and trickery, was now a model of civic virtue. Or at least, that's how he framed it. Any other god who heard that would probably laugh themselves to tears.
The girl walking beside him was more than a secretary, she was his bodyguard. These were dangerous times. One stray wide-area spell or surprise attack from the shadows, and even a god might find themselves returning to heaven in pieces. And that was assuming they had enough time to reincarnate properly.
A sudden, violent death? That was a bureaucratic nightmare no god wanted to experience.
Thus, unless they were loners without followers, most deities were now accompanied by a trusted guard when venturing out.
(End of Chapter)
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