Chapter 288
“A-allied forces taking heavy losses, ma’am! They’re steadily isolating our troops, cutting them off from the chain of command, particularly in the east!”
The panicked voice of her subordinate sliced through the din of the command tent, punctuated by the grim reports of others.
“They’re using the monsters against us! We started with the advantage in numbers, but if this keeps up…!”
The litany of woes piled up in Valletta’s ear, each report a fresh stab of frustration.
This was no slapdash ambush, no desperate counter-attack.
It was a meticulously crafted plan, calculated to encircle the evilus in five distinct locations simultaneously.
The precision of it was chilling.
As much as she hated to admit it, she could deny the truth no longer.
Finn had played her like a fool, and a cold rage, unlike any she had felt before, began to simmer. “Damn you, Finn,” she growled, her voice a low, dangerous rumble.
“You really think this stupid little scheme is going to help you?! You’re going to give up on your only shot at beating Zald so you can mop up our weaklings instead? Leave Ottar to die in a one-on-one? And you think that’s a good plan? You’re outta your goddamn mind!”
Her scowl deepened, her knuckles white as she slammed a fist onto the makeshift map table. “Once that boar bastard goes down, it’s over for you! You hear me?!”
Finn’s maneuver was one Valletta’s calculating mind could never have conceived.
It was bizarre, mind-boggling, and at first glance, utterly devoid of genius.
If this was the culmination of his plays, then Valletta could scarcely believe her arch-nemesis’s idiocy.
“Don’t think for one second this ‘power of friendship’ bullshit is going to turn things around! Is that really your plan, Finn?!”
Though he could not hope to hear her furious yells, far across the city, Finn replied all the same. “No, Valletta. It’s not,” he said, his voice calm, resolute.
He stood before a smaller, more detailed map, his azure eyes fixed intently on the projected battle lines.
“It’s a matter of risk versus reward. Our choices were a pitched battle that would almost certainly result in heavy losses, or a duel between the two strongest forces in the city. We chose the latter.”
His gaze narrowed, a determined expression etched upon his pallum features.
“We chose Ottar. He gives us the highest chances of beating Zald.”
Though they were from different familias, Finn had witnessed the struggles of the boaz man firsthand.
He thought back to a moment from fifteen years ago, before the Age of Darkness even began. ‘You don’t know Warlord like I do, Valletta. You don’t know what he’s been through.’
In that time, Ottar had suffered tremendously.
While his strength was great enough that it made others quake in their boots, there were those in the city who had easily surpassed him.
Ottar had tasted defeat many times at their hands.
‘But I know. I know what Zeus and Hera did to him, and I know that never once was he content to stay defeated. I know something you don’t, Valletta, and that is that Ottar will never give up!’
The mountain Ottar wanted to climb towered ruthlessly high.
At the top was a pressure weighty enough to crush any common man.
Even if he climbed all the way up, that still wouldn’t let him reach the light that sparked above it. And even if he reached it, the light could easily burn him to a crisp.
Everyone knew that Ottar’s quest was not brave; it was foolish.
Yet the man continued on his foolish path nonetheless.
For he could not abide his own weakness, nor could he allow his goddess to wallow in infamy. Raw persistence, willpower, and self-loathing alone drove him to conquer that indomitable peak. “Ottar has the teeth to bite back at Zald! If he can’t do it, then perhaps no one in this city can!”
That was the pallum hero’s plan.
That was Warlord’s obsession.
Finn focused his azure eyes on the magical dome surrounding Babel.
“Isn’t that right, Ottar?” he muttered, another figure briefly flashing in his mind.
‘Well, there is another with the potential, sadly he is currently unusable. Things would have been much easier if the injuries were only physical’ Finn thought, his eyes briefly looking to the southwest…
…………………………………………………………………………………….
In Central Park, the Warlord and Glutton stared each other down, the air between them thick with primal tension.
Clad in his multitude of armaments, Ottar slowly raised and clenched his fist.
His voice, usually a deep rumble, was now infused with a declaration.
“Finn and I… We always looked up to you.”
He paused, then continued, his eyes burning with an unyielding resolve.
“The peak of despair, and a roiling anger. These are what you left me, and I always swore I would leave them behind.”
It was not adoration.
Nor was it envy or hate.
To Ottar, Zeus and Hera represented nothing more than a wall that needed to be scaled, a previous height that mocked his ambition.
“The time to fulfill that oath…is now. It is today.”
Ottar raised his gaze, fixing his eyes on those of the warrior in black before him.
“Today is the day I surpass you. Today is the day my teeth tears at your flesh.”
Zald’s mouth, the only visible part of him through his armor, curled into a terrifying grin.
“Very well, suckling brat.”
It lasted only a second, replaced with a howling roar that echoed across the park.
“You have come to face me alone, with the weight of this city’s fate lying on your back! And still you selfishly seek to devour me?!”
Zald’s voice trembled with a savage glee and an unquenchable thirst for battle.
Even his thick armor seemed incapable of repressing his aura, which caused the hairs on Ottar’s skin to bristle.
But he held firm and did not reply.
“Very well! Let us see what you can do! Become a beast, much like that dragon brat a few days ago! Cast off your weak flesh and come to consume mine! Make this a feast I can finally enjoy!”
Ottar pulled out two longswords, their polished blades gleaming dully in the overcast light, as Zald made his move.
The Glutton unsheathed his black slab of steel, a monstrous weapon that hummed with latent power, then raised it up to the sky as if in prayer.
“Which will win the day: your obsession, or my disappointment? Let the gods above bear witness!”
High above, a goddess stood on the uppermost floor of Babel.
Her exquisite silver eyes, usually serene, now glittered with an almost predatory anticipation. “Oh yes, I’m watching.”
From her private seat, Freya alone gazed down at the battle about to unfold.
‘A baptism. A battle where the very fate of the world hangs in the balance… And, if all goes well, this will be the moment my child ascends’
Her silver eyes locked on the combatants below.
“Go forth, Ottar. This is your greatest test yet. Do not disappoint me.”
Her words, though unheard by the fighters, were the silent signal for the duel to begin.
The two titans, swords raised, let out a guttural yell that tore through the air, and dashed for each other.
“Rrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!”
Pure, unadulterated brute strength drove their weapons.
Power surged from their muscles to their steel, unleashing a shock that rattled the very earth, and which could be heard in every part of the city.
The clash was not just metal on metal; it was the collision of two insurmountable wills, echoing the thunder of a brewing storm.
The true feast had begun..
……………………………………………………………………………………………………
The sky above Orario split with a titanic clash of blades, a symphony of steel that tore through the city like a gale.
Iron shrieked against iron, echoing with a force so immense that citizens mistook the reverberations for the explosive belches of flames spat forth by a fire-breathing dragon.
The very air thrummed, a cacophony so overwhelming that the ceaseless rumblings of dungeon monsters below, now seemed to pale into insignificance.
“It’s started!” Vasiliki muttered, a shiver running through her as she paused beneath the broken, half-frozen crotch of Ganesha’s colossal statue.
She’d snapped it off earlier herself, finding its intact state somewhat distracting, and wasn't worried about being caught; the evilus served as a convenient scapegoat for any destruction. Beside her, Michalis and Eleni flanked her, their faces grim, escorting her towards the assault team that had surged past moments ago.
The Bahamut Familia, alongside several allied groups, had borne the brunt of the initial two waves attacking the Ganesha familia home.
Now, with Shakti and the elites unleashing their planned ambush, these frontline fighters were permitted a brief respite before rejoining the fray.
“Yeah, it’s a battle between Orario’s former and current champions!” Eleni added, her voice taut with a mixture of fear and awe.
“Each blow feels like an earthquake!” Michalis exclaimed, clutching his daggers tightly.
“It’s almost as bad as when Draco-nii went on a rampage.”
He shook his head.
"It is quite unbelievable!"
The two girls nodded in silent agreement, their gazes fixed on the distant, shimmering haze of battle.
Around the city, many adventurers, though shocked by the violent tremors and deafening roars, were far from disheartened.
The visceral thrum of Warlord’s blades, a rhythm of unyielding power, instilled in them a potent surge of courage.
With renewed vigor, they turned their own claws and weapons upon the evilus.
On the surface, the forces of Orario and their foes seemed roughly equal.
Yet, with the enemy’s strongest piece locked in a brutal duel inside Central Park, the adventurers held a crucial upper hand on the outside.
High above the chaos, within a fortified trading house, Valletta’s lips curled into a nasty snarl. “Grr, the fight’s still going. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The battle was meant to end with the first clash. Tsk, looks like that pig bastard’s been training…”
She allowed herself only a fleeting moment of anger before re-adopting the cruel, coolheaded persona that had earned her the chilling alias, Arachnia.
With a calm mind, she re-evaluated the potential ripple effects of Finn’s intricate plan, and, more pressingly, Ottar’s prolonged duel.
‘None of it truly matters so long as Zald wins—which he will,’ she mused, her thoughts already shifting to a more pressing concern.
‘There’s something more important I’ve been thinking about…’
She turned back to her subordinates, her voice a low, dangerous purr.
“Looking lively, meat shits! I want to know the name of every last first-tier adventurer fighting out there in the streets! I also want to know exactly where that monster from the Bahamut familia currently is.”
A fleeting thought crossed her mind: ‘Hopefully, he is still severely injured. But just to be safe, we have to get rid of him quick. Can’t have our only other powerhouse on the surface occupied with petty revenge, now can I?’
“Y-y-yes, ma’am! I-it will only take a moment…”
The flustered subordinate stammered, about to scurry off to gather the requested intelligence when a man with blood-red hair materialized seemingly from thin air, answering Valletta’s query before it was even fully processed.
“Besides the Braver and Warlord, I have spotted Freya’s Chariot, the Gulliver brothers, plus the black and white elves,” he said, his voice smooth and devoid of inflection.
Valletta narrowed her eyes.
“You picked a damn fine time to show your face, Faceless. Where have you been all this time?”
“I was curious as to how the Glutton fared and went to see for myself. I apologize for my tardiness, my lady.”
His uncharacteristic honesty took Valletta aback for a moment.
She knitted her brows, waiting for the rest of Vito’s report.
“Vana Freya is defending the stronghold, while the Gulliver brothers and the black and white elves are engaged with the Apate familia and Alecto familia,” he went on, his gaze scanning the distant city.
“As for the dragon kid from the Bahamut familia, I heard he was moved to the southwest, so perhaps start searching from there.”
The Freya familia had devoted themselves to the defense of the Arena, in the eastern quarter of the city, where the most heated battle in Orario’s history was taking place, second only to the one in which Ottar was engaged at the foot of Babel.
“As for Nine Hell and Elgarm… I couldn’t say. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of either of them…….nor, for that matter, the girls of the Astraea familia, and the remaining members of the Bahamut familia.” Vito surveyed the view from the trading house rooftop once more.
While the Astraea and Bahamut followers were not exactly linchpins of the enemy force by most standards…..their highest members were Level 3s…..they were both familias that had proven far more troublesome than their strength suggested.
Vito was keen to emphasize that they were not a force to be taken lightly.
Valletta’s eyes narrowed further, like daggers.
There was no way Finn was still keeping any hidden cards close to his chest at this point.
Which could only mean…
The theory she was currently entertaining was outlandish, bordering on insane, but if Finn was behind it, anything was possible.
“Listen to me, Vito. I want you to head through Knossos and enter the Dungeon.”
The look on her face was graver than any Vito had seen before.
At the mention of Knossos, their subordinates standing nearby visibly shuddered.
“Hmm? And why is that?” Vito replied, his single visible eye opening a fraction.
“Because everyone up here is focused on Zald,” said Valletta, gnashing her teeth in vexation.
“I haven’t seen anyone gearing up for the monsters that are about to come out of Babel.”
She paused, the implications hanging heavy in the air.
“That can only mean one thing: Finn’s sent a team down there to deal with it. That’s got to be where the Astraea and Bahamut familia are at, plus that damned high elf and dwarf of his.”
“A little overkill, for a hunch, no? Especially when his forces are so valuable here on the surface.” Vito’s expression remained unreadable.
“You don’t suppose he knows about our little shortcut, do you?”
“Suspects, maybe. No way he knows for sure. If he did, he’d have done something about it by now.”
But the fact this was only a hunch made Finn’s actions all the more incredible.
“I don’t believe you, Finn! Acting so decisively when you don’t have a shred of proof! It’s insane, I tell you! I’ve never met anyone who’s got half the nerve you do!”
Of course, she didn’t know that Finn had changed the plan to be this way at the last minute due to the unsettling tingling of his thumb.
Vito was silent for a while, but he soon realized, as Valletta did, that Finn’s audacious plans endangered their own.
“…Very well, I shall take a contingent and head down there at once. That is where the key to our victory lies, after all. But are you sure you don’t need me up here?”
“You’re the only one I can trust with this, Faceless,” Valletta shot back.
“Olivas is a useless piece of shit. Besides, I still got one more trick up my sleeve.”
Valletta’s mind went to her secret weapon, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she relished the chance to unleash it.
“I’m sure you haven’t forgotten,” she said to Vito, her voice dropping, “but the upper gates are all closed off after what we did to our allies.”
The mass exodus that took place on the first night of the war was made up in part by the evilus’ own gods.
Erebus had fully intended all along to use them as sacrifices.
Of course, the followers of those sacrificed gods had not taken the decision lightly, and the evilus’ secret base had suffered heavy damage in the ensuing unrest.
As one final act of resistance, the cornered gods had destroyed the gates leading to the upper floors of the Dungeon.
“Which means…?” asked Vito, his gaze fixed on her.
“You’ll be heading to the middle floors… the eighteenth floor, to be exact.”
The corners of her mouth curled upward, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
The prelude had almost reached its finale.
“If there’s going to be a war, it’ll be there.”
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