A full day vanished in the blink of an eye. It had been morning just moments ago, and now it was night.
Riveria had set out at dawn, leading the Astraea Familia into the Dungeon. Ais had also insisted—at the last minute—on being taken along.
The enemy they were meant to face were "god-killers" above Level 6. Even with their lineup, victory was far from guaranteed.
And they had to reach the eighteenth floor in less than a day.
That was the battleground Finn had calculated for the decisive clash.
This operation was a forced march—deep insertion, far from support.
But this time, the enemy's main force couldn't be in the Dungeon. Their objective was still the destruction of Orario, and they had no time to drag this out.
With the surface war only growing more difficult, Finn couldn't spare additional manpower.
The wartime command center had been placed at the Guild—by direct demand of Guild Master Royman.
In his view, compared to Babel Tower, the place that truly needed to be protected was Ouranos's seat.
What he likely didn't understand was that a command center was important, but not necessarily sacred. It could be abandoned if the situation demanded it.
Finn looked calm—almost cold—but when he went all in, he stopped acting like a person at all.
Even so, at this moment, watching Finn sit there composed and unshaken, Royman felt a profound sense of safety.
Finn didn't speak.
After finalizing the pre-battle preparations, he remained silent.
Orario, poised on the edge of war, was unnaturally quiet—and Finn looked as if he was savoring that stillness, the corner of his mouth slightly lifted.
Whenever Raul's nerves threatened to snap, he would glance at Finn again, trying to draw courage from that faint smile.
District Eight.
The Twilight Manor—home territory of the Loki Familia—had been requisitioned as one of the five major shelters.
The old veteran Noir was chatting loudly with the dwarf Dain, their hearty laughter rolling through the hall.
They were seasoned adventurers—men who had walked the streets long before the Loki Familia took root in Orario.
Later, for reasons of their own, they had joined Loki's banner. Beneath the three great leaders, they were crucial fighting power.
Their tenure within the familia might not have been the longest, but their years as adventurers surpassed even Finn's generation.
This time, the defense of the territory and the shelter was being led by them.
"Arde, you're shaking. That much pressure on you?" the amazon Bala teased.
She was a veteran too—she remembered being young like this.
"I-I-I'll t-try my b-best!" Arde stammered, nearly biting her tongue.
Freshly promoted to Level 2, she was one of the younger members being groomed carefully. She had chosen this rear-guard assignment on purpose, determined to shoulder the defense of the familia's land.
Otherwise, she would have been out there like Raul, acting as Finn's scout.
"Our pressure isn't small," Bala said, more serious now. "By Finn's read, the north will be one of the main thrusts. You—"
She had more she wanted to say.
After so many years, danger had become an instinct to her—an animal sense.
And that instinct was screaming that she might not survive this one.
Watching young leaders like Finn rise into their roles did make her feel proud.
But not having the time to teach the generation after the next left a bitter taste.
Even as an old soldier, she realized—she still hadn't lived enough.
"So," Bala finished quietly, "don't be so tense. Trust your comrades. Trust us. And finally… try trusting yourself too."
District Five.
The Freya Familia's territory, the War Wasteland.
A catman—known as the fastest man in Orario—was wiping down his spear.
Two successive captains were heading out to confront the tyrant. The black-and-white elven kings would face the "Silent One," who might otherwise have no opponent at all. The four warriors of flame and gold carried the burden of holding back twelve Level 5 enemies.
And yet, for all that, the massive Freya Familia now had only one first-class adventurer left standing at the gate: the vice-captain, Allen.
Normally, Freya's people fought each other endlessly inside their own territory—get hurt, get healed, repeat—so having only Allen left on guard should have felt almost simple.
And truly, standing alone to defend his goddess and comrades didn't frighten him.
What burned him was something else.
That man in black.
The ugliness of how powerless Allen had been in front of him.
The shame of being unable to take revenge.
The more he remembered, the more resentment poisoned his chest.
"Tch."
He knew it: he still wasn't strong enough. Not even close.
At this rate, he couldn't protect his goddess.
He couldn't protect that other weak catman, either.
In this decisive battle, Allen would fight like his life depended on it—because it did.
And after surviving, he would keep getting stronger.
Until he never had to pray again that some weak idiot wouldn't do something reckless.
"That idiot… better not get full of himself while I'm not there," Allen muttered.
He remembered what his goddess and his comrades said about him.
They believed that after he drove his sister out of the familia, he became weaker.
Today, Allen had found a reason to grow again.
The night sank deeper. The city held its breath.
Then, with a single thunderous blast, darkness poured into Orario from every side—waves of Dark Faction soldiers surging in all directions.
"District One, District Three, District Five—no, all districts! Enemy forces everywhere!" Raul's voice broke into a near-wail.
But in the roar of explosions, no one could hear him clearly.
Still, Raul was a scout. He knew what mattered.
He used the flicker of a magic-stone lamp as a signal, relaying the message across sectors.
Only after the signal was transmitted cleanly did he realize sweat had already formed on his forehead.
He wasn't the one who would decide victory or defeat.
He had thought he could stay a little calmer.
He couldn't.
Not even remotely.
"Did the Dark Faction have this many people?" Raul tried talking to Cid, desperate to drain off some fear.
"More," Cid said, recalling what he'd seen inside the artificial labyrinth. "The Dark Faction doesn't only have people."
He remembered the monsters they had been raising.
Back then, he'd gotten lost inside and had no idea where he was; he only saw the vast number of creatures being kept and fed.
He had killed a lot—casually—but it was obvious there were far more he hadn't even seen.
And whatever monsters they'd prepared for this battlefield… would not be limited to those.
When the monsters stepped onto the field, that would be when the real pressure began.
"Besides people… what else could there be?" Raul didn't understand.
He didn't need an answer.
Right before his eyes, all eight city gates were blasted apart—almost simultaneously—shattered in an instant.
And then came the stampede.
A flood of monsters crossed the broken gates and surged into Orario.
The pounding of their steps made the ground tremble—so hard that even civilians sheltering in the safe zones could feel the vibration under their feet.
Orario was under attack.
When fear seized people, the most common thing they did was pray to the gods.
But the adventurers fighting for their lives knew the truth:
Most gods were useless now. They couldn't help.
From high above, Valetta watched Orario being trampled and torn apart, and she couldn't stop laughing.
She had seen this scene countless times in her dreams.
Today, the dream had finally come true.
"Be destroyed, Orario—the city everyone hates. This is the final battle!"
....
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