Chapter 212
The smoke from burning wood mingled with the scent of roasted flesh amidst the chaotic flames below.
It curled upward into the starless sky, past the peak of Babel, the tower of the gods, where Freya resided.
"First, they lead our greatest heroes into traps at three separate locations. Then, when our forces were divided, they sprang into action, using the city as a hostage to achieve their goals," Freya surmised, her silver eyes surveying the turmoil below.
Standing by the large window pane of her throne room, she watched her beloved children fall to the streets, a sliver of worry crossing her otherwise perfect brow.
From her vantage point atop Orario, she perceived the game board, and a simmering rage began to brew in her heart.
‘We goddesses of beauty could intervene and end this war in an instant. We could charm and neutralize the children of evil, but it seems our foes are determined to prevent that,’ Freya reflected.
Her gaze shifted to a hill not far from Central Park, where Draco had set up a temporary headquarters.
There, she spotted a group of armed evilus soldiers, keeping a watchful eye on the gates of Babel.
They were there for her; if she set one foot outside, she would surely be killed and sent back to heaven. Even if the mortals hesitated, the evil gods would not hesitate to act.
One person amongst them caught her attention: a goddess adorned with heavy makeup.
The moment their eyes met, she waved at Freya with a sickening grin.
Freya responded only with a cold glare before shifting her focus elsewhere.
In addition to the evilus group she observed, Freya noted three others positioned on nearby rooftops, buildings, and trees.
Orario's protectors were too occupied fighting in the streets to notice these subtle threats; there was neither time nor manpower to eliminate them.
It appeared that the enemy had anticipated the threat the goddesses of beauty posed and planned accordingly.
‘What about Bahamut?’ Freya wondered.
She doubted the evilus could deal with her, so why wasn’t she acting?
Bahamut also possessed the ability to end the conflict single-handedly.
Unlike the charm of the goddesses of beauty, Bahamut had a passive skill that instilled fear and subdued weaker foes.
If she unleashed that within the city, surely she could bring an end to the chaos.
The absence of such an occurrence suggested that something was amiss.
‘Are the evilus powerhouses surrounding her?’ Freya pondered, quickly dismissing the thought. Even that wouldn’t stop the dragon goddess.
Only a few possibilities remained: either another dragon god/goddess, equal to or greater than Bahamut, was in Orario—was it Tiamat? The mere thought sent a chill down her spine.
One of the other possibilities were that Bahamut was unaware of the ongoing chaos or simply chose not to act.
The worst-case scenario loomed: at this rate, Orario might truly be destroyed.
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Meanwhile, to the southwest of the tower, in the heart of the pleasure district, Ishtar, a goddess of beauty and owner of Belit Babili, had also noticed the evilus surveillance on her home.
"I suppose Freya has no choice but to hide in her shell too," she mused.
From her position in the main hall, she could see the flames consuming the red-light district. Evilus soldiers were surely lurking in nearby buildings, waiting to ambush her the moment she stepped outside.
This realization briefly annoyed her, but after taking a long puff from her pipe, she calmed herself.
‘I hate to let these flies keep me locked up, but there's no need for me to take any risks. All I have to do is wait for Freya to lose her patience and then watch and laugh as she gets sent back to heaven,’ Ishtar thought.
“But I suppose that’s too much to ask. That ridiculously overpowered lizard goddess should probably take care of things before it comes to pass,” she muttered in frustration.
Ishtar bore a burning hatred for Freya, who was considered by all to be the most beautiful in Orario instead of her.
“Ishtar-sama,” a young man’s voice called out, snapping her from her inner musings.
“What is it, Tammuz?” Ishtar asked, barely holding back the urge to smack him across the face.
“A request for our aid has been sent by that child using Finn’s name,” Tammuz reported.
“Hooo! Now that’s concerning news. I thought that bitch would have resolved things by now. The fact that her child is asking for our help means she isn’t around, or someone is keeping her occupied,” Ishtar surmised, a sense of dread creeping down her spine.
“Tammuz,” Ishtar called out.
“Yes, Ishtar-sama,” the young man replied.
“See to it that the area around our headquarters is thoroughly fortified. Tell the berabera to keep any rats from sniffing around our borders. Do not get involved in anything beyond that,” Ishtar instructed.
“B—but, Ishtar-sama, if we do nothing, then Orario will…” Tammuz began, but was immediately cut off.
“We don’t have the luxury or time to care about anything else but our own. Something crazy is about to occur—this city might be doomed,” Ishtar said.
“Now hurry up and recall all our whores before the enemy makes them their playthings. I will protect my own children, and no one else’s,” she ordered.
“U…understood, my lady,” Tammuz stammered in reply.
Disappointed that his attempt to advise his mistress had failed, he still understood her point.
As cruel as it was, Ishtar had carefully considered the war and its direction, especially after speculating that another dragon god might be involved.
Dragon gods were essentially natural disasters in both the heavens and the mortal world. Amicable ones like Bahamut were a rarity.
If the other dragon god was aligned with the evilus, Bahamut, as a goddess of justice, would likely act, which could lead to a monstrous confrontation.
Ishtar had no intention of participating in such madness.
“We must not mistake foolishness for magnanimity. I am no goddess of justice,” she said, noticing Tammuz’s somewhat dissatisfied expression.
For every god, returning to heaven effectively meant the end of their familia.
Risking her life to get involved in a fight where she was likely to die was foolish; it was best to keep her pieces close and watch how the situation unfolded.
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Back at Babel Tower…
“So Ishtar has holed up too… I suppose it’s only natural,” Freya muttered as she looked toward the pleasure district.
Ishtar’s followers were shoring up their borders.
It was obvious that she was wary of getting involved with the dragon gods and wanted Freya to make the first move, thereby inviting her own destruction.
“The pieces on this board are quite ill-spirited,” she mused.
There was an invisible battle unfolding among the gods.
While their children fought for their lives in the streets, the gods were engaged in a strategic game, layered with complexity—where a single move could spell the player’s end.
The gods were forced to think long and hard about where to deploy their forces, most of them seeming to be cautious, except for a few like Bahamut and Astraea, who didn’t bother scheming. While everyone else was guarding their pieces, Astraea went out into the streets, saving the lives of adventurers and civilians, with Hermes following closely behind her.
Bahamut, although not taking any direct action, was helping Orario the most.
If she was indeed being kept in check by another dragon god, her inaction was proving valuable. Should a fight break out between the dragon gods in their true forms, the current level of destruction and casualties would pale in comparison to what they could unleash upon the city.
“I don’t think I have ever seen Astraea so determined,” Freya whispered.
Such words of respect were rare from her lips.
She then turned her attention to Draco, a child of Bahamut, who was holding things down while the main forces were still on their way.
His commendable actions reignited her desire for him like a ferocious appetite.
Although she had held herself back because Bahamut was always around him, she wondered if this was her chance now that Bahamut was occupied.
However, her musings were abruptly interrupted when the doors burst open, and one of her children walked in.
“I apologize for disturbing you, lady. Please forgive me,” the man said, kneeling before her, his body covered in blood—whether it belonged to the evilus or himself, no one could say.
“Speak,” Freya commanded.
“We cannot stop the evilus from self-destructing. Their chaos is unstoppable. Please give us your command,” the man pleaded.
Freya didn’t bother looking at him, her eyes fixed on the children gathering at the tower base. “Recall your troops… no, send them to that place,” she said, pointing at the headquarters Draco had set up in Central Park.
“Join the forces there in aiding the city. The raid group is making their way back,” she instructed.
“Yes, my lady,” the man replied, immediately leaving to fulfill her orders.