"Fragile. Too delicate. I wonder, when did adventurers turn into such rotten fruit? I have done nothing but toy with them. How much more will you disappoint me, Orario?"
The "Conqueror" clad in pitch-black armor strode through the city as flames gnawed at its foundations. The raging inferno consumed everything, claiming the lives of high-level adventurers and ordinary civilians alike.
He wore a suit of full black plate armor paired with a matching cloak. A visored helmet concealed his features, leaving only his mouth visible. In his hand, he gripped a massive black sword as tall as a man, his footsteps never faltering.
This man, radiating extraordinary power, walked as if taking a casual stroll. He showed no hesitation; he simply moved with cold precision toward his objective.
With every step he took, the earth trembled and souls perished—a victory march for death itself. Spells, swords, arrows, spears, axes, hammers, and magic swords all shattered or deflected before touching his skin. In return, adventurers fell one after another.
The giant, standing well over two meters tall, did not stop. No one on the battlefield could restrain him. He had already laid waste to the city's main thoroughfare.
Utilizing the immense physical strength of his frame and the violent swings of his heavy blade, he scattered the souls of brave adventurers like scraps of paper. Among them were Level 2 adventurers, yet they fell to a single blow without landing even a scratch.
He appeared as the personification of the Grim Reaper. Wherever he passed, he reaped lives and left behind scenes of carnage.
With every strike of his massive black blade, the "Conqueror" spread death in every direction. Using his sword like a conductor's baton, the Black Knight continued to play a symphony of dying souls. He was the embodiment of tyranny in human form. Only the crackling of fire and the final gasps of the dying filled the air.
No one dared to challenge him.
Suddenly, a silver spear struck from a blind spot. The blow launched like a bolt of lightning, yet the knight caught it with his metal gauntlet without a second thought. He brushed the weapon aside with a casual flick of his hand, as if swatting a fly. The sound of clashing steel echoed. The black warrior handled a surprise attack that should have been a killing blow with seamless ease.
The one who had hurled the silver spear was a young man of the cat-person race, Allen. Allen's face was etched with shock, confusion, and intense dread.
"Oh, you are not bad, little cat. Fast as the wind. ── But you are as light as a passing breeze."
"──?!"
In the instant the "Conqueror's" hand blurred out of sight, Allen's body went flying. The force of the impact slammed him into the ground, a muffled cry of agony escaping his lips.
He scrambled into a defensive stance, but he couldn't fully absorb the shock. The air was forced out of his lungs. He skidded across the cobblestones until he came to a halt. He raised his head in terror, only to find the black shadow already standing before him. Allen stared at the figure in full black plate, the massive muscles visible even through the armor.
"Don't joke with me! What did you just do──?!"
"I told you, it was merely a caress. Do not be surprised by such trivialities."
The giant held his massive sword in his right hand while his left remained empty. Sensing danger by instinct, Allen rolled away. A split second later, a deep crater formed exactly where he had stood. Allen's spine chilled at the sight of the destruction, as if a titan had struck the earth. His heart pounded like a bell, and sweat poured from his brow.
He hadn't even detected the preparatory movement for the attack. It had happened so suddenly, as if pages had been torn from a book, leaving him unable to react.
── He is strong.
Alarm bells rang inside Allen. It was a warning born of primal fear. His breathing grew heavy under a pressure he had never experienced before. He couldn't even visualize a path to victory. This man was on a completely different level than the other leaders of the "Dark Faction." He possessed an overwhelming presence that made Allen, a high-ranking Level 5, feel utterly helpless.
"If you are an adventurer, turn the 'unknown' into the 'known' quickly. Otherwise, I will sever that neck ── and devour you whole."
Allen's body trembled instinctively. The man directed a dense killing intent toward him, more intense than anything he had ever felt. Allen managed to grit his teeth, lowering his body into a combat stance. He forced his racing heart to calm, focusing his consciousness entirely.
"You are..."
A gravelly voice from a third party interrupted him. The speaker was Ottar, a Boaz wearing light armor that covered only his vitals, revealing muscles as hard as a shield. He carried a blood-stained black sword as long as his own two-meter frame.
Ottar ignored the destruction, staring only at the black warrior with a look of pure astonishment. In this place, only Ottar knew the identity, power, and ferocity of this man. For that reason, he could not hide his shock.
This was the figure he had once chased. The impregnable wall and the idol he had strived to reach to become the strongest. This was no mere lookalike; he was certain it was the man himself.
Yet, a question burned in his mind: Why was he here? Years had passed since that battle. Why appear now after all this time? Ottar did not understand why the man who had made him taste the bitterness of defeat countless times had resurfaced.
Thoughts clashed in Ottar's mind without answer, until the man spoke.
"Oh, pig boy. I finally found a familiar face. So, is this cat your successor?"
The voice was heavy, fitting his majesty, and the manner of speech was familiar. Without a doubt, Ottar knew the man standing before him was the one who was once the "Strongest."
With that certainty came sweat, trembling hands, and a racing heart. This tremor was not the excitement of battle; it was born of awe.
"..... Allen, fall back. Go and protect Lady Freya."
"Huh? What are you babbling about, Ottar!! I'll crush this bastard myself. Don't you dare interfe──"
"«Listen to what I say!!» ──!!"
Ottar cut off Allen's angry shout with a firm command. He spoke with a level of dread that surpassed anything Allen felt. His face, usually as immovable as rock, twisted with bitterness. It was the first time Ottar had ever shown such distress.
Allen, knowing the usual Ottar, was stunned by those words and felt the pressure. Ottar's gaze remained fixed on the black warrior, unable to look away.
"If you consider me your captain even in the slightest, go. Not for me, but for the Goddess..... swallow your pride and leave."
This was the first time Allen had heard such a bitter plea from Ottar. It was enough to extinguish the fires of his anger. Allen glanced at Ottar, then sprinted away without a word. Once Allen was gone, Ottar turned back to the black warrior.
A black helmet, black armor, and a massive black sword. Amidst that equipment of mourning, the only things that shone were the stains of fresh blood.
"You haven't changed. You still put the Goddess above everything else. Have you not been weaned yet, you brat?"
The voice seemed to mock Ottar, who couldn't hide his awe. But Ottar didn't feel anger. He didn't have the luxury for it. The suffocating pressure and the heart-freezing majesty—everything about this man surpassed Ottar.
He knew this feeling. He could never forget it.
"This is impossible..... Why are you here!!"
The wall that Ottar had tried to scale repeatedly without ever reaching the top now stood before his eyes.
"Zard!!"
"── You ask why I am here?"
The black-clad man known as Zard spoke calmly, as if despising Ottar's confusion and awe. He placed a hand on his helmet and revealed his face. He had blood-red hair, sharp eyes, deep features, and scars covering his skin. He radiated a majestic aura like that of a dragon or a lion.
His features were no different from Ottar's memories. The image matched the memory etched into his mind. The true majesty of a "Hero" was undoubtedly present.
"Zeus disappeared, so I had no choice but to search for a battlefield worthy of me. ..... Is that explanation not enough?"
"You retired after the battle with Behemoth, and rumors of your death spread. Why appear now, of all times──!!"
Zard answered Ottar's frantic question with cold indifference. The answer was beyond Ottar's comprehension.
This man, the black warrior standing before him, was a true "Hero." A legend from the past. He was part of the force that achieved one of the Three Great Quests: the extermination of the giant black monster, Behemoth. Those three disasters had emerged from the Great Chasm in ancient times—the original covenant that the adventurers of Orario were meant to fulfill. Yet, because of their brute strength, that dark end had remained unwritten for a thousand years.
The strongest group that fulfilled that long-awaited wish of the Lower World ───── the Zeus Familia and the Hera Familia.
The strongest assembly acknowledged by the gods, led by the "Peerless Hero" and the "Empress." Captains who reached Level 8 and Level 9—heights no one has reached since. Beneath them were true heroes whose level the current Ottar could not match. They were heroes equivalent to a thousand warriors, giants among men. Their strength could never be compared to the current adventurers in Orario.
They were the truly strongest, the truly invincible—the legion of heroes worthy of carrying the hopes of the entire Lower World. No god had ever doubted their victory. And they had achieved it. The ringing of "Silence" crushed the King of the Sea, Leviathan. After that ────── the fangs of "The Devouring" consumed the King of the Land, Behemoth.
At that time, a weak Ottar could only watch the emergence of those warriors who achieved such a great feat. Despite that, their appearance and heroic stance remained engraved in his eyes.
"I am not an educated man, but even considering that, I do not understand. You, who were a protector of this city and flourished within it, why do you bare your fangs at Orario now?! This contradiction..... what does it truly mean!!"
A hero like this could never turn into an enemy threatening the Orario he was supposed to protect.
"I have already drawn my sword. Even so, can you not fight without knowing your enemy's motives?"
Zard sighed with regret, as if weary of Ottar's doubts and confusion. He then rested his massive black sword on his shoulder. An aura resembling heavy pressure began to swirl around Zard like a cyclone. It was the mark of the powerhouse Ottar had faced countless times in the past.
"How feeble. How weak."
Ottar's pulse spiked at the words that seemed to hit the core of the truth.
"Despite our different Familias, I valued your dirt-stained persistence. But... it seems I misjudged you."
"────"
Hearing the disappointment in Zard's voice, Ottar felt as though his heart had shattered.
"──── Very well. I will tell you as a bonus."
"The contradiction you speak of is exactly what I feel toward you now; it is an extension of 'disappointment'."
●○●○●
"Disappointment is the reason for the attack on the city.....?"
Hundreds of dead lay at the feet of Alfia, who closed her eyes with intense boredom. Riveria stood frozen in place, paralyzed by shock. All these people had been ravaged by that woman. The trumpet of destruction played by the "Witch of Silence" had turned the strong and the weak alike into silent corpses.
"That is correct. Disappointment is what led us back to the City of Heroes and ignited the fuse of conflict."
There was no color in her eyes behind her gray hair—only pure disappointment.
Confusion spread across the faces of Riveria and Gareth, both first-tier adventurers. Even these two, who boasted superior strength among the current Level 1 elites, realized by instinct that they could not face the monster before them. The atmosphere surrounding Alfia was entirely otherworldly.
"──── Enough nonsense!! What disappointment are you talking about!! Could you really destroy a city because of a mere frustration!!"
Gareth shouted, readying his axe and charging. His massive frame, befitting a great warrior, shattered the ground beneath him as he swung his battleaxe with all his might. It was a strike from the heart that launched with a thunderous roar, yet the attack passed through empty air.
Alfia vanished from her spot as if she had never been there. Gareth didn't have time to be stunned by her movement, which was uncharacteristic of a mage, before a cold voice sounded from behind him.
"──── Disappointment in everything, and that includes Orario as well."
Before Riveria and Gareth, two of the city's foremost powerhouses filled with fighting spirit, Alfia didn't even flinch.
"Don't toy with us..... no matter how strong you are, there is no logic in destroying a city just because you feel frustrated!!"
"Stop your chattering. The world is full of noise, so it must be filtered."
"You allowed the loathsome gods to have their way, and you saw rose-colored dreams in this fleeting world. Therefore, as followers, we share in the responsibility as well. That is why we will destroy everything."
"The Age of Gods is over. We are the ones who will end it."
"Perish then, adventurers."
"────────!!"
"── Anyone, someone help us!" "── Save me!!" "── Waaaaah!!??"
The din of death and the fire of explosions. The flames of death, which did not distinguish between civilians and adventurers, burned souls everywhere, turning Orario into a hellscape in moments. Some fled while engulfed in flames, while others ran to save family members still alive, only to fall prey to the raging fires in a moment of inattention.
Everyone was in total despair, yet they struggled with all their might to cling to life. But as if mocking the scene, the followers of the Evil God reaped the lives of the people one by one. As if this city itself were a massive sacrifice, they tore away souls without mercy.
When Ryuu witnessed the peaceful days she had protected vanish in a single night, her beautiful face twisted in pain.
"Ah, ah ──────"
"Don't just stand there like a fool!!"
Kaguya, her body stained with blood and soot, shouted as she grabbed the collar of Ryuu, who stood dazed, forgetting to fight in the face of the hellish scene.
"..... K-Kaguya..."
"Draw your sword quickly! Don't turn into a wooden doll! We aren't allowed to be slow right now!"
"B-but, no, but..... this can't be right!! Al was for us ── guk"
Kaguya knit her brows and slapped Ryuu's cheek, then screamed in her face.
"Don't look away from reality, you idiot! Don't be a prisoner of despair, you novice! Don't think! Move! Fight! Save at least one more soul! And Ardee too, don't let that brat's sacrifice go to waste!!"
Ryuu's teeth clenched, affected by Kaguya's shout, which sounded as if she were bleeding. The words of Kaguya, who had struck Ryuu's grief-stricken, tear-filled cheek with excessive force, were not wrong. Not at all.
Ryuu, whose tears had not yet dried, understood this. She gritted her teeth and began to run while crying. Seeing this, Kaguya fell silent and resumed swinging her blade.
"..... I'm sorry, Kaguya, for leaving you with this difficult role. Even though you too ── no, even though you are the one hurting the most."
Lyra, who belonged to the same Familia, was the only one who noticed Kaguya's shoulders trembling as she moved forward in silence.
───────── "Oh, so you are the followers of Justice."
"Y-You....."
There was a gray woman. She stood in the middle of this hellish scene with such calm and unnaturalness that Kaguya and her companions, despite being Level 2, didn't notice her presence until she spoke. Or perhaps, because of her overwhelming magic, they were unable to notice her. What attacked Kaguya and her companions now was pure terror; the gap was far too wide.
As high-ranking adventurers, they possessed strength that set them apart from ordinary users. Being in the Astraea Familia, which had faced enemies many times stronger than themselves, they knew and recognized the despair arising from a massive power gap.
The beauty appeared graceful at first glance, clad in a black dress reminiscent of funeral attire, her eyes fixed sharply beneath her gray hair. Her heterochromatic eyes, which gave a contradictory feeling—like a calm lake and a raging storm unbefitting a battlefield—reflected the image of Kaguya and her companions.
The demonic waves of magic emanating from the woman made everyone facing her prepare for death; she was a monster in human form.
"I am sorry, but I do not have a name to cast into the ears of nuisances like you. O followers of Justice, perish and turn into ugly lumps of meat by the sound of my death trumpet ── «Gospel» ──"
The declaration of death allowed Kaguya and her companions no chance to respond or escape. The irresistible blow of death was about to strike the girls ─────────.
"─────── Thunderbolt!"
But it was canceled by a massive bolt of lightning that flew from afar. The lightning strike, reminiscent of the great punishment of the gods, carried enough power to not only erase the invisible sound of death but continued to rush toward the gray woman without losing its momentum.
"── «Silentium Eden» ──. Ah, you have come then. My beloved and sinful child."
Two disasters met there; one in pure white, and the other in silver-gray.
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[100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
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