A skin-scorching heat immediately greeted anyone who stepped foot into the main workshop of the Goibniu Familia. The rhythmic clanging of steel hammers striking incandescent metal echoed like the heartbeat of the legendary forge. In the center of the room, illuminated by the golden glow of the hearth, stood a massive man with his arms crossed.
Zald watched as the blacksmith god emerged from his private forging chamber. A week ago, Zald had plunged into the deepest hells of the labyrinth, piercing through Floors 71 and 72 purely to harvest materials impossible to find on the surface: Alpha Anole Hide, which could withstand extreme temperatures, and Adamantine Drake Scale, possessing the highest density of steel in the underworld. He had entrusted all of it to Lord Goibniu as an absolute prerequisite for crafting a weapon capable of withstanding his future Level 9+ strength.
And today was the promised day.
"Is the greatsword finished, Lord Goibniu?" Zald asked. His baritone voice echoed against the workshop's brick walls, unable to hide the anticipation of a warrior who had long yearned for a true weapon.
Goibniu, a short but stocky god with a silver beard and a soot-stained leather apron, gave a firm smile. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a thick towel, radiating the pure pride of a deity who had just forged a masterpiece.
"Of course, finished right on schedule," Goibniu replied with satisfaction. "In fact, I dare say this is one of the finest works to ever come out of my hearth since your era."
Goibniu turned toward an anvil table covered by a thick, heat-resistant cloth. With a rough pull, the blacksmith god swept the fabric away, revealing the massive weapon resting beneath it.
"Take it, Zald," Goibniu said, leaving the masterpiece lying on the table.
Zald stepped forward. With one hand, he grasped the hilt of the massive sword and lifted it from the table with ease. The first sensation that flowed into his palm was its incredibly heavy weight, yet it possessed an absolute center of balance that distributed its mass with mathematical precision.
As the greatsword was fully unveiled, Zald fell silent. His sharp eyes traced every inch of the masterpiece.
The pommel featured a highly detailed and aggressive steel carving of a dragon's head, its open jaws holding a small orange magical crystal—a heat-absorbing stone. Below the pommel extended a long grip, wrapped in cloth and dark maroon Alpha Anole hide. The leather was bound in a tightly woven cross pattern, offering an absolute grip that would never slip, even if the wielder's hands were drenched in blood or sweat.
Zald's focus then shifted to the crossguard. Forged from dark metal with an aggressive, sharp-angled design, it was sculpted to resemble a pair of dragon wings spread wide to parry attacks. Dead center in the crossguard lay a large, faceted red gem, radiating an aura of contained heat. At the tips of both guard blades rested two smaller red gems, balancing the flow of magical energy within.
The main attraction, however, was the blade itself. The greatsword's blade was exceptionally broad, double-edged, and forged from dark Adamantine Drake metal that exuded an aura of terror. Down the center ran a fuller, etched with a series of runic symbols glowing a reddish-orange, indicating a massive magical infusion. Near the base of the blade, just above the crossguard, protruded secondary, small dragon-shaped spikes on each side, designed to catch and break an opponent's weapon in close-quarters combat.
Zald swallowed hard. Unconsciously, a smile formed on his face. He shifted his stance, then channeled a fraction of his Deus Ambrosia magic into his palm.
The moment Zald's magical energy touched the hilt, the masterpiece responded.
Fiery, dancing tongues of reddish-black flame instantly engulfed the broad blade, concentrating intensely along its razor-sharp edges. The heat radiating from the sword was so extreme that the air around Zald visibly distorted and melted, yet thanks to the Alpha Anole hide on the grip, Zald's hands felt no heat whatsoever.
Zald clearly loved his new greatsword. His eyes gleamed with absolute satisfaction. With this weapon, the destructive power of his Rea Ambrosia would no longer be restrained.
"I also bestowed a Durandal attribute upon that greatsword," Goibniu said. "No matter how wildly you swing it, or how hot the hellfire you channel into it, the blade will never break, dull, or melt. It will accompany you even to the deepest depths of hell."
Hearing the absolute attribute imbued into the sword, Zald nodded in deep respect to the god. He twirled the blade in the air, listening to the sound of its slash tearing through the wind like a dragon's roar.
Looking at the black greatsword now ablaze in his hand, Zald's thoughts drifted to memories of the battles he had fought, and the apocalyptic stage awaiting him in the future. He needed a fitting name for this masterpiece.
"Vorago," Zald muttered softly, letting the name roll off his tongue. He stared intently at the red gem in the center of the sword. "I shall name it Vorago, the Devouring Inferno."
Lord Goibniu smiled. "A truly fitting name for the Glutton! Go, Zald. Show the world the power of Vorago!"
On the other side of the Labyrinth City of Orario, a gentle afternoon breeze swept through the clean cobblestone streets, carrying the sweet scent of fruit stalls from the western district. Far from the hustle and bustle of the blacksmith's workshop, a peaceful atmosphere enveloped the sturdy iron gates of Hearth Manor, the headquarters of the Hestia Familia.
A dust-covered carriage, having just completed a long continental journey, slowly came to a halt right in front of the gates. Venti casually hopped down from the driver's seat, followed by Alfia who emerged from the passenger cabin. Venti stretched his arms, loosening up his stiff muscles after the long overland trip. Meanwhile, the Wisp Aria did not physically hide herself. As a pure spirit entity, she floated serenely in the form of thin wind particles merging with the breeze around Venti's shoulder, completely camouflaged from the outside world.
"Ah, finally back to civilization," Venti said cheerfully. "What do you think, Alfia? A very smooth heist, wasn't it?"
Alfia, walking up to him, merely cast a fleeting glance at the invisible little vortex of wind near Venti's shoulder. "Smooth or not, we've reclaimed the aria from that dragon. The rest is up to this generation."
Alfia's gaze shifted past the gates of Hearth Manor. The sounds of clashing wood and metal echoed from the spacious courtyard inside the headquarters. Intense physical training was underway.
Venti gave a meaningful smile. He gently patted the pocket of his cloak. "Did you hear that, Aria? It seems we've arrived at the perfect time."
From within the pocket, the small, light-winged wisp emitted a rapidly vibrating green glow, signaling immense anticipation and nervousness.
Without knocking, Venti pushed open the unlocked gates of Hearth Manor and stepped into the courtyard.
The sight before them was captivating. In the center of the grassy lawn, the Sword Princess, Ais Wallenstein, was sparring. However, she wasn't fighting just anyone. Facing her, the Elf sisters from the Barbatos Familia, Dina and Vena, moved in unison to test Ais's limits.
This wasn't a life-or-death struggle like in the Great Plains during the Orariopiad. It was a transmission of knowledge. By a fortunate coincidence, Ais happened to be at Hearth Manor today. Ever since their battle during the Orariopiad, Ais realized that Dina and Vena utilized her father's pure swordplay—the Albert Heritage Sword Style. In order to refine her own swordsmanship, which had been corrupted by her monster-killing instincts in the Dungeon, Ais swallowed her pride and asked Dina and Vena to teach her in greater depth.
Clack! Clack!
Ais's wooden practice sword clashed against Dina's. Ais tried to dash forward, but Vena, floating on small footholds of wind, parried her attack from a blind spot, forcing Ais to correct her stance.
"Too wide, Ais," Dina reprimanded politely but firmly. "As Lady Aria taught us, your father's sword technique doesn't rely on slashes that waste energy. He kept his lower body movements to an absolute minimum. His sword swings must be incredibly free and flexible. The beauty of your father's swordplay lies in the freedom of the slash, not in forced brute strength."
"Focus your center of gravity," Vena chimed in from mid-air. "Don't let your emotions pull your sword."
Ais nodded obediently. Sweat drenched her forehead and neck; strands of golden hair clung to her cheeks. Her usually stoic and rigid expression now radiated a thirst for knowledge and a profound longing. She steadied her breathing, closed her eyes for a moment to visualize her childhood memories of her father, and then charged again with movements that were far more graceful and controlled.
On the sidelines, Bell Cranel sat cross-legged on the grass, amazed by the sparring session. His ruby eyes didn't blink, absorbing every one of Ais's sword movements and the instructions from the Elf sisters. Beside him, Goddess Hestia, Ryuu Lion, Welf, and Mikoto also stood watching in silence, mesmerized by the high-level sword dance on display.
Near the gates, Venti and Alfia stood silently, observing the beautiful scene. Around Venti's shoulder, the small vortex of wind rustled softly. Within it, the camouflaged form of the Wisp Aria trembled violently as she stared straight at the girl in the center of the field.
The spirit of Aria seemed to freeze in the air. Her golden eyes stared unblinkingly at the golden-blonde girl—a girl who moved with the agility of the wind, swinging her sword with such fierce determination.
Seeing her daughter—who in her memories was still an innocent, ever-smiling little child—now grown into such a beautiful, strong, and resilient young woman, Aria's heart felt squeezed by an overwhelming surge of joy. Tears of light flowed endlessly from the little wisp's eyes. She could see the reflection of Albert in her daughter, and she could see the remnants of her own teachings in every swing of Ais's sword.
"How is it, Aria?" Venti whispered in a very gentle voice.
Venti took a slow step toward the field, causing Bell and the rest of the Hestia Familia to turn their heads. However, Venti's focus remained entirely on the golden-haired girl, who now lowered her sword upon noticing the god's arrival.
"Ais has grown up well, hasn't she?" Venti said, this time at a normal volume, breaking the silence of the field.
Ais Wallenstein froze. She was still panting from the training, but her eyes were locked onto Venti. There was something in the breeze the god brought with him, a familiar resonance that made her heart race. Her Ariel magic unconsciously reacted, generating small ripples of wind around her body.
Dina and Vena immediately lowered their wooden swords. "Welcome back, Lord Venti."
Venti nodded, but he didn't stop walking until he was just a few steps away from Ais. Bell Cranel quickly stood up, sensing that a monumental moment was unfolding. Alfia simply stood in silence behind Venti, her arms crossed, watching the interaction with hidden tenderness.
"Ais," Venti called out, a gentle smile gracing his face. "There is someone who wishes to see you very much. Someone who has waited for a very long time, in the dark, just to see you smile again."
Ais frowned, her eyes reflecting confusion mixed with a palpitating sense of premonition. "Who...?"
Venti gave a faint smile. He merely turned his head slightly toward the empty air near his shoulder.
"Reveal yourself, Aria," Venti whispered softly.
The gentle breeze near Venti's shoulder converged, revealing Aria's true form to the outside world. Her temporary vessel was a palm-sized wisp with a pair of transparent wings fluttering slowly. A soft, golden-green luminescence radiated from her tiny body.
The moment the little wisp was exposed to the open air, the elemental wind resonance throughout the entire manor vibrated intensely. Ais felt her Ariel magic surge—not as a defense, but singing in welcome to the presence of the true master of the wind element.
The small wisp floated slowly, trembling violently as she approached Ais's face. The spirit's golden eyes met Ais's own golden eyes.
At that exact second, the wooden sword in Ais's hand slipped and fell to the grass with a thud.
Ais's eyes widened to their limits. Her logic couldn't process the small figure before her, but her soul... her soul screamed an absolute truth that could not be denied. This energy, this gentle scent of the wind, and those eyes filled with boundless affection...
Tears immediately welled up in Ais's eyes, her vision blurring from the crystalline drops she had held back for so long.
"A... Ais..." A melodious voice, like the chiming of wind bells, echoed directly into Ais's mind. The voice she always heard in her nightmares was now calling her name with overwhelming warmth in the real world. "My darling daughter..."
Ais's body shook violently. Her knees gave out, forcing her to fall to the grass. She raised her trembling hands, cupping them with extreme care, as if terrified that the glowing little figure before her would shatter if touched too roughly.
The Wisp Aria floated down, landing incredibly softly in the center of her daughter's palms. The little spirit leaned in, nuzzling Ais's cheek with her wings of light.
And so began the reunion that had been delayed for a millennium.
Ais's tears fell uncontrollably. The stoic defenses she had built to protect her heart shattered entirely. She was no longer the Sword Princess. She reverted to a seven-year-old little girl yearning for the warmth of her mother's embrace.
"Mother...?" Ais cried out, her voice breaking, accompanied by sobs that would shatter the heart of anyone who heard them. "Mother... is it really you...?"
"Yes, Ais... it's Mother," Aria sobbed in her wisp form, her light flickering to the rhythm of her tears. "Mother has returned... I'm so sorry for leaving you alone for so long... I'm so sorry..."
Ais shook her head vigorously, bringing her palms closer to her face, letting the warm light of her mother's spirit brush away her tears. "No... It's okay. You're here... You finally came home..."
The sight of this deeply emotional and impossible reunion plunged the entire courtyard of Hearth Manor into absolute silence.
Bell Cranel stood paralyzed, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes were wide with shock at the scene before him. He had never seen Ais cry like this. The girl who had always been his role model, who had saved him from the Minotaur, was now sobbing uncontrollably like a little child. And that tiny, light-winged creature...
Mother? Bell thought, his brain struggling to process the sight. Miss Ais... is calling that little entity of light 'Mother'?! I thought Ais's mother was Sylphie-san.
The rest of the Hestia Familia members watching the training were equally dumbfounded.
Dina and Vena exchanged glances, then smiled tenderly.
Venti stood in silence, letting the gentle breeze caress his black hair. He watched Ais, who was still sobbing while gently cradling the glowing form of her mother, soaking in every second of the reunion. A faint smile etched itself across the god's face.
His mission in this timeline was perfectly complete.
The Orariopiad had been won. The future of Bell and the other pillars of Orario had been secured. The Black Dragon had been drained of its battery of power and left merely as a final trial for humanity. And now, Aria—the main reason he had bothered orchestrating this heist—had returned to her daughter's embrace. The agony of a thousand years had been washed away by one longing embrace of the wind.
Venti looked up, gazing at Orario's evening sky as it began to shift into a golden orange.
Everything is back where it belongs, Venti thought, letting the blowing wind bring relief to his heart. The story on this stage belongs to them now.
He glanced at Alfia, who was still watching Bell and Ais with a faint smile, then at Dina and Vena, who had grown so strong. His heart felt warm, realizing that in another timeline, he had a family waiting for him to come home. The Barbatos Family.
It's time for us to say our goodbyes and return to our own timeline, Venti mused, preparing to close the curtains on this long, cross-time performance, and let the winds of freedom blow in a new chapter for them all.
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P - Gem_Blanks
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