That morning, the Labyrinth City of Orario was not awakened by the chirping of birds or the clatter of horse-drawn carriage wheels, but by the piercing cries of paperboys running through the cobbled streets. Flyers from the Guild fluttered in the wind, passing from one hand to another at an unprecedented speed.
The results of the Denatus at the Tower of Babel had been officially announced.
The news regarding the final format of the Orariopiad festival exploded like magic fireworks in the middle of the night. The rules were extremely simple, sounding almost like a crazy joke written by a drunk god: All Orario Familias against four members of the Barbatos Familia. Open to all adventurers with no level restrictions.
However, the initial euphoria that had briefly sparked among the lower-class adventurers instantly died down into a blood-freezing silence the moment they read the names of the four opponents printed in bold on the flyers.
Alfia, the Silence.
Zald, the Gluttony.
Dina and Vena, the Dis Sisters.
To the newcomer adventurers, those names might just sound like worn-out legends of the past. But to those who survived the era of The Great Feud seven years ago, those names were synonymous with absolute death.
In various taverns, wooden mugs slipped from the hands of veterans. Their faces went deathly pale, cold sweat drenching their backs as memories of blood-flooded streets and comrades bisected in half returned to haunt their minds. Zald and Alfia were the Evilus executives who had once brought Orario to the brink of destruction. Remembering that those two monsters had now returned and challenged the entire city on the Great Plains, many second and third-class adventurers immediately abandoned their intentions to participate. Their courage evaporated, replaced by a survival instinct that screamed a single word: run.
The official announcement from the Guild confirmed that the final event would be held two weeks after the Denatus concluded, designating the Great Plains as the absolute battlefield that would determine the fate and honor of this era.
While the streets of Orario were swept by a mixed wave of panic and enthusiasm, the atmosphere inside the main study of Twilight Manor—the headquarters of the Loki Familia—felt as freezing as eternal ice.
Finn Deimne sat behind his desk, his fingers crumpling the edge of the Guild flyer until the paper slightly tore. Beside him, Riveria Ljos Alf closed her emerald eyes tightly while massaging her throbbing temples. Gareth Landrock stood near the window, crossing his muscular arms with an incredibly stern expression.
The three of them were just recovering from fatal injuries sustained during the disastrous expedition on Floor 60. During the rescue operation, they were not conscious enough to see who had helped Bell Cranel, and no one had told them the truth about the Barbatos familia.
"I can't believe it," Riveria sighed, glaring sharply at the announcement paper. "Alfia and Zald? This is impossible. They were confirmed dead seven years ago during The Great Feud. Is the Guild playing a sick joke?"
"The Guild wouldn't risk their entire credibility for a silly joke in a Denatus announcement, Riveria," Finn replied, his usually calm voice now sounding shaky, holding back the tension. His blue eyes widened staring at the row of names on the paper. "They have truly returned. And we have to face those monsters on an open battlefield."
Lefiya Viridis, who was standing near the door carrying a tray of warm tea, looked at her three Familia top brass with a confused expression. The young elf tilted her head, completely unaffected by those names.
"Umm... Captain? Riveria-sama? Are those four really that strong?" Lefiya asked innocently. "I mean, the whole of Orario is allowed to join this final. We win by an overwhelming number, right? Why do you all look so tense?"
Gareth turned, looking at Lefiya with a bitter smile that looked forced. "Kid, in the face of pure power that surpasses common sense, even the number of tens of thousands of people is just a number. Seven years ago, Alfia and Zald were two pillars who nearly leveled this city single-handedly. We couldn't even touch the hem of their clothes without sacrificing hundreds of our comrades' lives."
"For those of us who have felt their aura of despair firsthand," Finn chimed in, brushing aside his doubts and once again radiating the resolve of a commander. "Just hearing their names is enough to make our survival instincts scream."
Finn took a deep breath, brushing aside his doubts and once again radiating the resolve of a commander.
"We will participate. Tell all the core members to recover immediately. We will march onto that battlefield."
A few days later, before the shock about Zald and Alfia truly subsided, Orario was once again shaken by new news that skyrocketed the city citizens' spirits.
The Guild officially announced the status update of the Record Holder from the Hestia Familia. Bell Cranel, the young hero who successfully saved the Loki Familia expedition from the depths of the labyrinth, had officially leveled up to Level 5.
Cheers exploded across the entire city. The absurd speed of Bell Cranel's level up was seen as a glimmer of hope amidst the dark shadows of Zald and Alfia.
However, behind the festive celebrations happening out there, the truth kept within the closed rooms of Hearth Manor far exceeded what the outside world knew.
In the basement room, Goddess Hestia sat in a chair with her face covered in cold sweat, staring at Bell's Falna paper. Her hands were shaking slightly. That Level 5 announcement was the biggest lie she had ever told, a move to protect Bell from global panic.
In reality, when Bell returned from the past timeline after undergoing hellish training with Alfia, the youth's status had broken the Level 6 wall. Even crazier, after the battle against the Corrupted Spirit whose power was equivalent to Level 9, the Excelia Bell gathered overflowed until it reached an absurd limit.
Technically, Bell Cranel's hidden parameters had now broken through and leveled up to Level 7.
If I announce that Bell leveled up twice at once and became Level 7 in less than 3 months... all the gods in Orario will lose their minds and hunt Bell down desperately to join their Familia, Hestia thought in panic at that time, so she decided to seal that truth by falsifying his public status to Level 5. An absolute secret known only to the core of her family.
Time kept ticking, bringing the city closer to the promised day.
A week and three days later—exactly three days left before the Orariopiad final on the Great Plains began—the biggest and most highly anticipated announcement finally echoed through the Guild network.
Ottar, the Boaz of the Freya Familia, and Leon Vardenburg, the Captain of the Baldr Familia, were officially announced to have leveled up to Level 8.
After more than a full week of sleepless mass slaughter against monsters and ruler classes in the labyrinth's depths, the two strongest adventurers of this era had successfully broken their shells. That news became a tremendous morale booster for Orario. The city finally had two Level 8 shields that could stand as equals and withstand the physical onslaught from the legends of the past. The tension in the air of Orario was now purely filled with bubbling anticipation for war.
While the whole city boiled with euphoria and war preparations, the atmosphere in one of the rooms in the Twilight Manor tower felt incredibly peaceful and quiet instead.
The golden light from the twilight sun pierced through the window curtains, illuminating the figure of a golden-blonde-haired girl sitting quietly on the edge of her bed. Ais Wallenstein rested her chin on the windowsill, her pair of beautiful golden eyes staring straight at the chimney of Hearth Manor in the distance.
Her thoughts were not focused on the war on the Great Plains, nor on the Orariopiad final. Her thoughts were entirely fixated on one youth who had turned her whole world upside down.
Ais closed her eyes, and the memories at the bottom of Floor 60 replayed crystal clear in her head.
At that time, she was trapped inside an absolute cage of despair. Darkness and guilt had swallowed her whole, convincing herself that she was merely a monster who brought destruction to the people around her.
However, from behind the thick despair, a bright light broke through.
A white-haired youth with armor and a face covered in blood and dust, shattered the cage imprisoning her heart. The youth ignored all of his own wounds, kneeling right before Ais who was shattered and helpless at that time.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," the youth said softly, his voice hoarse yet carrying a warmth that melted the ice inside Ais's soul. "I've come to bring you back."
In her memory, Ais saw herself raising her tear-streaked face. She remembered how broken her voice was as she shook her head slightly, refusing to be saved.
"Who... are you? I... I'm not a hero. I only bring destruction."
Instead of stepping back or refuting it with empty words, the youth smiled. An incredibly sincere, friendly smile that pierced the bars of darkness inside Ais's heart. The youth reached out his rough, scarred hand.
"I'm just an adventurer," Bell Cranel answered then, his red eyes radiating an unshakeable resolve. "And if you aren't a hero... would you let me be your hero?"
Ais remembered how her violently trembling hand slowly lifted. She extended her trembling pinky finger, touching the youth's hand. And right at that second, the warmth she had long forgotten—the warmth she thought had died along with the disappearance of her parents—enveloped her again very gently.
The twilight breeze blew into the room, caressing Ais's golden hair. The girl opened her eyes, touching her own chest which was now beating with a calm and peaceful rhythm.
Suddenly, a very familiar yet distant baritone voice echoed in the corner of her memory. It was a voice from her childhood, the voice of her father, Albert Waldstein, the greatest hero who ever lived in this world.
"Ais, someday, your very own hero will surely come to you."
Then, that echo from the past was followed by a much softer voice, her mother's voice, Aria, embracing her with affection before everything fell apart.
"A true hero is not someone who wields a sword for hatred, my daughter. Heroes are those who cry for others, and rise to reach out a hand into the darkness."
Inside Ais's mind, her father's words and her mother's gentle hopes slowly merged, overlapping perfectly to form the shadow of a white-haired youth with a pair of red eyes like ruby gems. A youth who never stopped fighting, who never stopped reaching out his hand even when his own body was battered and bruised.
Ais let her hand drop from her chest. Her gaze, which had always harbored shadows of sadness and cold emptiness, now radiated a warm light of life.
"Maybe..." Ais murmured softly, her voice as light as a strand of feather blown by the twilight wind. "...I really have found my own hero."
For the first time since she lost everything, a faint curve formed on Ais Wallenstein's lips. She smiled. Not a forced faint smile to hide the pain, but a truly sincere, beautiful, and relieving smile, radiating the charm of the Sword Princess who had now been freed from the curse of her past.
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