The sun slowly descended toward the western horizon, spilling orange hues over the expanse of the Kaios Desert. At the border between the devastated Gazoob territory and the tranquil lands of Shalzard, a luxurious caravan carriage stopped in silence. There was only the roar of the dry wind carrying the scent of ozone, melted steel, and the dusty remnants of destruction.
Atop the roof of the caravan carriage, two god figures sat side-by-side, gazing far off toward the giant crater that was still billowing smoke. They were quite a distance from the center of the explosion, yet the residual shockwaves from the earlier existential clash could still be felt.
Venti leaned his back against the edge of the carriage roof, resting his wooden lyre, Der Frühling, on his lap. His fingers plucked the strings slowly, creating a soft melody that drifted in contrast to the apocalyptic scenery in the distance.
Beside him, Erebus stood in a prolonged silence. The God of Darkness let the wind play with his messy, pitch-black hair. His left hand, clad in its single black glove, rested casually on his hip.
Erebus's lips, which usually bore an intriguing smile, were now pressed tightly together. The sight in the Gazoob valley had crumbled the entire foundation of his ideology. Eight fighters had managed to force a Level 7 to his knees, without being driven in the slightest by despair or having their minds pressured by hostages. They did it purely out of a free choice to surpass their own limits.
Venti stopped plucking his lyre. He tilted his head, looking at Erebus with a playful smile laden with ancient wisdom.
"How was it?" Venti broke the silence, his voice as light as a spring breeze. "This battle of freedom is very interesting, isn't it, compared to your purgatory plan?"
Erebus didn't answer immediately. He continued to stare at the spot where Hedin Selland's last flash of purple lightning struck, locking Zald in neural paralysis. Slowly, the God of Darkness's shoulders trembled. A soft laugh escaped his lips—not a laugh celebrating defeat, but a laugh full of awe at the beauty of an ending.
"Very interesting? That word doesn't even suffice to describe the masterpiece I just witnessed, Venti," Erebus turned, looking at the God of Wind with undisguised respect. "Those Elven members of your familia... they are truly extraordinary, Barbatos. Especially the lightning user. Being able to construct a multi-layered psychological and physical trap strategy just to ensure Zald ended up like that... His intellect is terrifying."
Erebus pivoted his body fully to face Venti. His facial expression now looked much calmer. He no longer felt the need to continue that purgatory script, because before him, he had seen a reality far more precious than the scenario he had ever devised.
"You proved your philosophical thesis very elegantly," continued Erebus, his voice dropping, full of sincerity. "Wings that grow from the desire to fly are apparently capable of flapping much stronger than wings that grow out of fear of the abyss. And for that... thank you. Thank you for presenting this epic battle before I return to the Tenkai."
Venti smiled gently, his teal eyes radiating empathetic warmth. He knew that Erebus, in the end, was merely a god who loved the children in the Gekai too much, to the point of being willing to become the architect of suffering; devising the most extreme scenarios just so they would be spurred to surpass their limits and develop into true heroes.
Erebus stood up. The desert wind blew his messy, pitch-black hair. He gazed at the Gazoob expanse for one last time.
"Very well, as promised, I will return to the Tenkai," continued Erebus in a casual tone. He glanced toward the Sorshana capital behind them. "But of course, I cannot go up there immediately. I must return to Shalzard first. Resheph, Set, Sobek, and Osiris are still confined within that palace. I will drag those loser gods home with me."
"Let's go there first. I need to check on their condition. Venti said."
The journey from the border to the center of the Gazoob crater presented a mesmerizing panorama of horror. The rocky cliffs had been leveled to the ground. The sand beneath them crunched strangely—it was no longer grains of sand, but an expanse of sand that had been scorched and hardened into sharp rock due to the extreme heat impact from Rea Ambrosia and Ignis Tenebris, followed by the sudden cooling from Riveria's Wynn Fimbulvetr ice storm.
The strong scent of fresh blood and charred flesh permeated the air. Magical remnants still buzzed passively; small sparks of purple lightning jumped between the rocks, while small black flames were still reluctant to die out in some corners.
At the center of that crater, measuring over a hundred meters in diameter, absolute silence reigned.
Zald was still kneeling on one knee in the same position. The giant sword Grattor lay beside him, its fire completely extinguished. The former Zeus Familia executive still could not move his body due to the residual neural paralysis from Hedin's purple lightning trap. Although his armor only appeared slightly blackened and smoking without any significant physical damage, the stiffness in all his joints was proof of how effective the nerve-locking tactic he had just received was.
Around Zald, scattered tens of meters apart, the other eight fighters lay helpless.
Ottar lay furthest away at the edge of the crater with his giant black sword slipping from his grasp, his giant Boaz body stiff and motionless due to the brutal impact at the explosion's epicenter. Near the remains of a collapsed cliff, Gareth Landrock lay supine among the rocky debris after his remaining strength was exhausted to protect his comrades. Not far from there, Finn Deimne and Riveria Ljos Alf lay silently on the sand, the High Elf princess's face deathly pale due to an extreme Mind Down following the destruction of their magical defenses.
The condition of the four Barbatos Familia Elves was no less concerning. Hogni Ragnar was knocked unconscious after his awareness and the remaining brutality of his Dark In were instantly extinguished from being blasted into the sandy crag until it shattered. On the eastern side of the crater, Dina and Vena lay helpless; Vena appeared unconscious with her shoulder bone dislocated after being thrown spinning and slamming into rocks. Meanwhile, Hedin Selland—the architect of this tactical checkmate—had collapsed completely on the sand not far from Zald, letting go of his magic staff with his glasses still perched, severely cracked on the left side of his face.
Venti and Erebus's footsteps broke the silence of the crater.
Venti stepped lightly past the unconscious bodies, his eyes scanning quickly to ensure none of them had life-threatening injuries. After confirming their hearts were still beating, albeit weakly, Venti walked over to Zald.
"How is it, Zald?" Venti greeted in a deliberately cheerful tone, placing his hands on his hips looking at the gluttony kneeling before him. "What is your opinion of this battle? Were they worthy enough to satisfy your high tastes?"
Zald looked up very slowly. The muscles in his neck tensed, struggling against the effects of the central nerve lock that still stiffened his entire body. However, instead of displaying an angry face for being tricked, Zald's facial expression looked very relaxed. The hard lines on his scarred face seemed to soften.
"I am... very satisfied, Venti," Zald's voice sounded hoarse and heavy, as if he had to force his vocal cords to work against the paralysis. He glanced at Hedin's unconscious body, then looked back at Venti. "Yes, I am very satisfied... even though I have to end up kneeling because I was trapped by the cunning magic of that bespectacled Elf."
Zald chuckled softly. "They broke through my attacks, coordinated their egos, and realized that my physical strength could not be destroyed head-on. Planting magic mines underground while sacrificing themselves as bait... A brilliant tactical decision. This new generation... cannot be underestimated at all."
"I am glad to hear that," Venti smiled broadly. The god then reached into his green cloak, pulling out several small crystal bottles that emitted a very dense bluish glow.
The liquid inside the crystal bottles rippled, emitting a very dense bluish glow. The fresh scent typical of medicinal plants instantly swept away the coppery smell of blood around them. Those were not cheap healing potions that could be bought in the Babel market, but the highest quality High-Potions. Exceptionally rare and fantastically priced potions usually prepared specifically for deep floor expeditions.
Venti looked at the bottles with an amused smile. His mind drifted back to the moment before he and his four Elves left the Barbatos Familia headquarters in Orario.
At that time, Alfia had intercepted him at the door. The cold-voiced woman with silver hair forced him to take a bag filled with dozens of these healing potion bottles.
"Take these, Venti," Alfia's strict and demanding voice rang in the God of Wind's ears. "The Guild mission requires you to investigate the remnants of the Behemoth and Leviathan. You will be entering areas with unpredictable levels of corrosive miasma. Never underestimate the remnants of a Calamity, no matter how strong you feel you are. I will not let my Familia members die foolishly from poisoning in a filthy desert."
Knowing Alfia's perfectionist, highly methodical nature that tolerated no logistical failures, Venti had no choice but to carry that entire burden of medical supplies. At the time, Venti thought these potions would only serve as decoration, considering the strength of the 4 elves and the existence of the Calyxes were more than enough to handle ordinary anomalies. He never expected that those potions would instead become a catalyst for an incredibly instant recovery on this Gazoob stage.
"Ah, Alfia is indeed always a perfectionist when it comes to preparation," Venti muttered to himself, realizing how the woman's calculating nature had once again proven to save the situation.
Wasting no time, Venti walked over to Finn Deimne's body first. He uncorked the crystal bottle and carefully poured a little of the clear, deep blue liquid directly into the Pallum's mouth. The effect was instantaneous. A hiss of thin white steam billowed from Finn's skin as his bruises slowly faded and his internal bleeding subsided. Finn's previously shallow breathing slowly became regular and deep.
Venti moved quickly. He moved from one fighter to the next.
Venti then moved to administer the potion to Riveria, feeding it to her slowly to stabilize the High Elf's mind condition, which had been severely shaken after the collapse of her magical defenses. Near the remains of the cliff, he also poured the potion into Gareth Landrock's mouth, soothing the Dwarf's internal bleeding caused by the hard impact that brought down the rocks earlier. Finally, Venti approached Ottar's body, which lay the furthest away; he poured the remaining portion of the finest potion so the Boaz's breathing circulation would return to normal after taking a full hit at the point of impact.
After ensuring the four Orario executives were stable in their unconscious state, Venti turned to his foster children. He immediately approached Vena and with a swift motion popped her dislocated shoulder bone back into place before feeding the potion to her lips. Venti then treated Hogni's burns, gave the potion to Dina, and fed the potion directly to Hedin's lips, which were still curved into a satisfied smile. Lastly, Venti walked back to the center of the crater toward Zald. He fed the rest of the potion into Zald's mouth to neutralize the nerve-locking effects that were still tormenting all the gluttony's joints.
In less than ten minutes, the eight fighters who had been unconscious were already showing signs of significant physical recovery. Their external wounds and bruises from the hard impacts had faded, leaving their bodies in a stable condition even though their consciousness was still sunk in very deep exhaustion.
However, not a single one of them opened their eyes.
"They're not waking up?" asked Erebus, who had been observing the healing process closely all along, furrowing his brow slightly.
"Their physical wounds have completely closed thanks to these potions," Venti answered casually, wiping the remaining liquid from his hands. "However, don't expect them to get up immediately. Their Minds are completely drained, and the mental exhaustion of withstanding the brunt of a Level 7's attacks is not something that can be recovered simply with a potion. Their bodies need total rest to reprocess their remaining energy."
Venti looked at the peaceful faces of Hedin and Finn in turn. "All of them experienced extreme exhaustion and a very deep Mind Down. It might take a full few days for their consciousness to crawl back to the surface and finally wake up. Just let them sleep."
Erebus nodded in understanding. "Surpassing one's limits to achieve impossible results truly drains everything. But, they certainly deserve this rest."
Venti stood up, letting the wind caress his face. However, beneath his casual expression, the God of Wind's mind was weighing all the possibilities of what had just occurred.
He stared intently at the eight unconscious bodies lying around him, feeling the remnants of Excelia churning within them—a sign that the combat experience they had just gone through was massive enough to trigger a significant growth spurt in their Status.
This battle was not merely a clash of power. It was a phenomenon where these adventurers actively and voluntarily challenged an absolute wall that was at a level far above them, risked everything, and managed to end the confrontation in a tactical draw.
In the world's legal system (Falna) created by the gods, the act of surpassing absolute limits and defying death head-on was the primary key to acquiring high-grade Excelia. And the Excelia generated from an epic battle against a Level 7 entity like Zald—was an absolutely absurd amount.
The Excelia they obtained is extremely high, Venti thought, his eyes beginning to gleam with a very sharp interest.
Venti was truly curious whether the eight of them could immediately level up after this event. He began to weigh the potential of his own familia members. If his four Elves—Hedin, Hogni, Dina, and Vena—who were currently still on the brink of Level 3 managed to level up thanks to the accumulation of pure Excelia from this Gazoob battle, then the power dynamics in Orario would change drastically.
However, what made Venti's smile grow even wider was when his eyes shifted to look at the four Executives from Orario.
If Finn, Gareth, and Riveria level up to Level 6... and Ottar manages to break through to Level 7... Venti's mind drifted, dissecting the knowledge from his past life on Earth regarding the canon destiny of the DanMachi world. Based on the original history, Ottar would only break through to Level 7 about seven years before the canon timeline began (during the era of The Great Feud). Meanwhile, the Loki Familia elite trio—Finn, Gareth, and Riveria—would only reach Level 6 around the same time, also roughly seven years before canon.
But now? The time only showed 15 years before canon!
If this battle in Gazoob truly triggered a level up for them, then Venti had just turned back the hands of history. He had forced the timeline to jump far forward. The emergence of four elite adventurers surpassing the bounds of normalcy, altering the map of Dungeon exploration.
This is going to get even more interesting, Venti thought. His casual smile slowly turned into a meaningful grin.
Venti looked up, gazing at the expanse of the Gazoob sky, which had become clear again after Hedin's storm clouds faded completely. The wind blew strongly from the west, billowing the ends of Venti's green cloak.
He began to look forward to where this wind of change would blow. Now, Orario's new generation would return to that city, bearing a strength born not from the mercy and plans of the gods, but from their own pure resolve.
The Kaios stage had been officially closed, but the real storm was just about to begin.
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