Freya's smile outshone the stars, more mesmerizing than any flower.
Loki felt a strange, indescribable discomfort. The Goddess of Beauty before her had changed.
Back in Tenkai, Freya had been an untouchable existence. Even among male gods, her popularity was overwhelmingly unmatched, yet she never cared about such things. She never fussed over her appearance, and her clothing had always been dignified and old-fashioned.
But now, the pale, charming dress she wore looked as if she had carefully chosen it for someone she adored. It was the first time Loki had ever seen Freya like this.
She knew Freya possessed a power that felt almost like cheating—the Discerning Eye. The Goddess of Beauty could see into the essence of mortal souls. It wasn't a forbidden divine power, but something unique to Freya, perhaps something innate.
With this ability, she had saved countless children in distress and taken them under her wing.
Loki had once asked her, "Why bother? You're not interested in status or authority, are you?"
Freya had only looked into the distance, expression aloof. "I'm searching for someone special—someone capable of changing me. As for helping those lost children… I simply couldn't bear to ignore them."
Through the goddess's quiet compassion, she had casually aided the people of Genkai, and before anyone realized it, the Freya Familia had become one of the strongest in the city. Yet Freya herself remained indifferent to it all.
Her true goal had always been only one: to find a soul of her own—one so blazing it could flood the world, one warm enough to soothe the heart.
"You… did you find it?"
Loki stared at Freya, suddenly finding the goddess before her utterly unfamiliar. She looked like a maiden deeply in love.
With Riveria's report and everything that had happened earlier, the realization hit Loki all at once. Her target was that "weakest adventurer."
It was just a tentative guess, yet the air in the room shifted instantly.
"Loki, are you planning to stand in my way?"
Freya still smiled, but the words leaving her lips were ice-cold.
As an old friend, she knew Loki's intuition was sharp. Even without being told, Loki could follow the threads and find the boy.
Before Loki could recover from her shock, Freya struck first.
"The Eagle Feather Cloak."
"…Huh?"
"If you intend to do anything questionable, could you return the cloak I lent you first?"
Loki scoffed. "That was— ahem—borrowed! Borrowed back in Tenkai! It's been ages, the time limit should've expired by now!"
Freya ignored her excuse. "I simply think it's best to settle old debts before the war begins."
Loki's eyes widened.
The Goddess of Beauty was serious. Even if it meant plunging the lower world into chaos, even if it meant becoming the enemy of all Orario, she would stand on the boy's side.
Freya's love had become utterly, dangerously fervent.
"Don't even bring up starting a war. Your crush has nothing to do with my children, and I'm not about to waste my time on something that pointless."
Loki laughed as she said it. The tension in the air was far too stifling.
"I'm being serious, you know. Sure, back in Heaven I loved stirring up chaos, but now I just want to watch Ais and the others grow. Besides, seeing that tiny dwarf goddess get knocked down a peg? I'm absolutely rooting for you." Loki added.
Caught in the crossfire, the Sword Princess had no idea what the two goddesses were even talking about. If someone could charm even the proud Goddess of Beauty… was he an incredibly strong adventurer?
If she could meet him someday, she'd like to trade a few blows.
Maybe she could get stronger too.
Ais tightened her grip on her rapier, suppressing the urge to fight as she quietly waited for their conversation to end.
The icy atmosphere eased.
"I was just speaking casually. If you've taken a liking to that feathered robe, then that's all the better."
As if her earlier threat had been an illusion, Freya's voice softened again.
"You've really got some nerve," Loki muttered. "That was ages ago. Anyway—back on topic. Do you have any clue what's behind those monsters popping up?"
"Most likely another God," Freya replied.
"Whoever's behind it, their target is clearly the shorty's Familia kid. Honestly, how about handing him over to me?" Loki stated her intention plainly.
It made more sense to approach the boy and wait for the culprit to slip up rather than running around blindly.
That was assuming Freya agreed.
"Can you guarantee his safety?" the Goddess of Beauty asked in return.
"Of course."
"Then let him go with you."
"...You agreed that easily?" Loki froze, expecting at least a long negotiation.
"Loki, I hope you understand—only that child is special to me. I will not use my charm on him, nor will I allow anyone to obstruct his growth."
Freya knew she couldn't bind the boy.
Keeping him confined in this safe stronghold was impossible.
For the sake of her love, she was willing to let him leave.
Resolving this incident quickly and letting him return to his normal life was what she should do.
From that perspective, Loki—with her cunning nature—was the best ally she could ask for.
Loki rose with a small laugh. "Leave it to me. So, where is the boy now?"
...
The hall grew quiet after the gods' secret talk came to an end.
"Freya-sama, are you truly letting them take the boy?"
Ottar stood behind the goddess, voicing his doubt.
Freya remained silent for a long moment, as if savoring some precious memory.
She looked toward the guest room where the boy had been staying and spoke softly:
"There must be parting for reunion to have meaning. The girl's time is over—for now."
Syr's relationship with the boy had deepened.
Her urgency came not only from a love she could barely suppress, but also because this incident was a critical turning point.
With a God scheming behind the scenes, someone needed to stay close to the boy in his daily life to keep him safe. As his lover, Syr could naturally fill that role.
As for matters beyond the everyday, that would depend on what Loki and the others achieved.
Freya recalled the Sword Princess's figure, and for no logical reason, a pang of jealousy rose within her.
"Bell… you won't be swayed by her, will you…?"
Her whisper drifted away unnoticed in the morning breeze.
...
Bell felt like he'd been dreaming for a very long time—warm, comfortable, as though a gentle wind stroked his face.
When he finally opened his eyes, everything around him had changed completely.
Syr was gone, and even the room had vanished without a trace.
It took several seconds for him to piece things together.
To put it bluntly, Bell Cranel was being carried on the back of a beautiful blonde girl.
Buildings blurred past them in the rushing wind.
He inhaled her refreshing scent, golden hair brushing against his face.
This… might be a little bad.