When she returned to the reception floor, Marcus had prepared tea—a simple gesture of hospitality that she found surprisingly touching. They sat across from each other at one of the common room's tables, the inn eerily quiet in the afternoon hours when most sensible people remained behind locked doors.
"Tell me about the city's condition," Aestoria said, accepting the cup with a nod of thanks. "I understand there's a faction called Evilus causing problems, but I would hear the details from someone who lives with the reality of it daily."
Marcus's expression darkened immediately, years of suppressed fear and frustration rising to the surface like water from a poisoned well. "Problems," he repeated bitterly, almost spitting the word. "That's... a mild way to put it, goddess-sama. Evilus isn't just causing problems—they're destroying Orario from within like a disease, rotting us from the inside out."
He took a shaky breath, his weathered hands trembling slightly as they gripped his own teacup. "It started about three years ago, after the Zeus and Hera Familias were decimated by the Black Dragon. Those Familias were the pillars holding everything together, you see. They were strong enough that even the worst elements in the city feared them, kept their heads down and their violence contained. But when they fell, when the survivors were hunted down by the Loki and Freya Familias fighting over who would be the 'strongest'..."
He shook his head in disgust, his voice dripping with contempt. "It created a power vacuum. A void where order and protection used to be. And Evilus crawled out of the shadows to fill it like maggots swarming over a corpse."
"Go on," Aestoria prompted gently, her golden eyes never leaving his face, absorbing every word and emotion.
"They target everyone—adventurers, civilians, doesn't matter to them. Sometimes it's assassinations, precise strikes meant to eliminate specific people. Other times it's public massacres meant to spread terror, to remind us all that nowhere is safe, that no one is protected." His voice cracked slightly, raw emotion bleeding through his professional composure. "Children disappear from the streets. Just... vanish. Like the little one you're protecting—there are so many orphans now, goddess-sama. So many children with nowhere to go, no one to care for them, no one to even notice when they're gone. Most people have stopped paying attention when another one dies. It's become... normal. That's the worst part—we've all become numb to it."
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Aestoria's barely contained fury manifested physically. Frost began forming on the edges of the teacup in her hand. Marcus shivered involuntarily, but something in him—perhaps the simple relief of finally being heard by someone who might actually do something—drove him to press on.
"The Guild tries to maintain order, but they're overwhelmed. Understaffed, under-resourced, fighting a war on a dozen fronts simultaneously. And the gods..." He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable criticizing divine beings to one of their own. "Most of them treat it like entertainment, goddess-sama. Like a game they're watching from comfortable seats. They're more concerned with their Familias' reputations, with their rankings and status, than actually protecting the city and its people. There are a few exceptions—Hephaestus-sama tries her best, keeps her smiths working to supply weapons and armor at fair prices. Miach-sama tends to the wounded, never turns anyone away even when they can't pay. —but they're vastly outnumbered by gods who just don't care. Who see mortal suffering as... amusing."
"And the adventurers themselves?" Aestoria asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.
"Divided. Paranoid. Suspicious of each other and everyone else," Marcus said wearily. "Evilus has infiltrated so many Familias that no one knows who to trust anymore. Your fellow adventurer today might be the one trying to stab you in the back tomorrow. A few alliances have formed—the Loki and Freya Familias occasionally work together when it benefits them, when there's glory or profit to be had. Some of the smaller Familias band together for mutual protection, strength in numbers. But mostly everyone's just trying to survive, keeping their heads down and hoping they're not the next target."
Aestoria absorbed this information in silence, her mind already working at incredible speed—cataloging threats, identifying priorities, formulating strategies both immediate and long-term. The situation was even worse than she'd initially assessed from her brief observations. Evilus wasn't just a nuisance to be eliminated—they were a cancer that had metastasized throughout the entire city's structure, embedded in its institutions, corrupting its culture, poisoning its very soul.
"One more thing," Marcus added quietly, leaning forward and lowering his voice as though afraid the walls themselves might be listening. "Be careful, goddess-sama. I know you're powerful—I felt it the moment you walked through that door, felt it in my bones—but Evilus... they're fanatics. True believers in their twisted cause. They don't fear death the way normal people do. Some of them even welcome it, embrace it, as long as they can take others with them into the darkness. Suicide attacks are common. And their divine sponsors..."
He lowered his voice to barely a whisper, glancing around nervously despite the empty common room. "Rumor says some very old, very dangerous gods are backing them. Ancient deities who descended to the lower world specifically because they find entertainment in mortal suffering, who feed on fear and despair like others feed on bread and wine. Gods whose names people are afraid to speak aloud."
"Then those gods will learn that even immortals can experience consequences," Aestoria said with ice-cold certainty, her voice carrying absolute conviction. "They will discover that eternity can be cut short, that divinity offers no protection from judgment. I appreciate your honesty, Marcus. Your information will help me understand what needs to be done—and how thoroughly it needs to be done."
She stood gracefully, draining the last of her tea despite the frost that had formed on the cup. "Before I leave to conduct other business, I must warn you about something critical. Do not enter the room where the child sleeps. Do not allow anyone else to enter either, regardless of their reason or supposed authority—not Guild officials, not other adventurers, not even other gods. I've placed defensive measures on that room that will activate automatically if anyone crosses the threshold without my explicit permission or with any hint of malicious intent."
Marcus paled visibly, his face losing several shades of color. "What kind of... defensive measures, goddess-sama?"
"Curses," Aestoria said with perfect calm, as though discussing the weather or the price of vegetables. "Layered curses of considerable potency. Anyone foolish enough to trigger them will experience flesh-rotting hexes that devour them alive from the inside out while their minds simultaneously shatter into gibbering madness. They'll be trapped in a loop of endless death—dying, regenerating just enough to feel it all again, then dying once more. They'll experience every fear they've ever harbored made manifest and real, their worst nightmares given form and substance. Their souls will be unable to find release or peace, caught in perpetual torment. The agony will be... considerable. Prolonged. Absolute."
Marcus's cup clattered against the saucer with a loud ceramic clatter, tea sloshing over the rim and pooling on the table. His hands shook badly now, and his face had gone from pale to nearly chalk-white. "I... I understand, goddess-sama. Perfectly clearly. No one will enter that room. You have my absolute word, my sacred oath. I'll stand guard myself if necessary."
"Good." She offered him a smile that somehow managed to be both genuinely warm and absolutely terrifying—the smile of a mother who would burn the world to protect her child. "I should return within a few hours at most. When the child wakes—and only when she wakes, don't disturb her rest—please knock on my door. I've keyed you specifically into the defenses, so you'll be safe to approach. I'll come immediately to feed her myself and ensure she's comfortable."
"Of course, goddess-sama. I'll keep watch personally," Marcus promised fervently. "The little one will be safe here, I swear it."
Aestoria nodded her satisfaction, then turned and strode toward the door, her cape flowing behind her like a banner of war.