Dix's whip came crashing down against the stone floor with a sharp, explosive crack.
The shards that flew up grazed the faces of several nearby Ikelos Familia members on the spot, drawing thin, bright lines of blood.
Not one of them dared make a sound to wipe it away.
The torches in the basement guttered and swayed, pulling the shadows on the walls into warped and writhing shapes.
Dix's chest heaved violently, his eyes fixed like iron behind his goggles on the staircase leading up to the surface.
Ikelos, seated on the steps, was still gnawing at the nail of his thumb, a few low, dull laughs squeezing out from the back of his throat.
"What's so funny?" Dix spun around sharply.
"Funny that you're not quite as stupid as you look."
Ikelos tilted his head and wiped the finger he'd bitten open against the leg of his black tracksuit. "If you'd actually taken your people and stormed that guy's compound, I'd have had to spend the whole night writing a confession to the Guild. I haven't had to do that in years — just thinking about it is a pain."
Hearing that, Dix's face twitched sharply. He raised his whip — and in the end, didn't bring it down on his own god. He turned instead and drove his boot through the wooden table beside him, which had already been cracked clean through.
A crash and clatter of chaos — the tabletop gave way entirely, planks and splinters clattering to the floor, sending up a cloud of dust.
Dix jabbed his whip-handle at several of the nearest subordinates, his voice dropping to something cold and razored:
"Turn every inch of this place inside out! Get all the hidden sentries mobilised!"
"Anyone who slacks off — I'll flay them alive first!"
"And another thing!" "From today on — not one word outside about that god taking those monsters away! If anyone finds out it was us, you'll all go down with me! Is that understood?!"
At that, the subordinates fell over themselves to nod, terrified that even a second's hesitation might bring that barbed whip back down across their faces. They knew their captain's methods far too well.
Seeing this, Ikelos gave his trousers a satisfied pat and rose to his feet, reaching over to grab a bottle of wine from the corner of the room as he went. He gave it a shake, found it empty, and tossed it to the floor in disgust with a clean, sharp shatter.
"Right, that's enough — everyone clear out. While you've still got breath in your bodies, go do something useful in the Dungeon. I need to get back and catch up on some sleep — these past few days have been enough to kill a god."
...
Dix couldn't even be bothered to answer Ikelos. He stepped over the splinters of wood and broken wine glass littering the floor, turned, and strode off down the passage that ran deeper into the basement, taking all his pent-up fury with him nowhere left to put it.
Since the goods they'd had above the table had been taken, they'd just have to claw double that back under it. The passage through Knossos — for now, that was his alone. There was nothing to worry about.
Thus.
The next morning.
Sunlight filtered down through the canopy of trees lining the streets of the North Boulevard's upscale residential district, and dappled gold fell across the broad floor-to-ceiling windows of Haimer's manor, refracting into a soft, warm haze.
The master bedroom on the second floor.
Haimer opened his eyes. His first sensation was that he couldn't quite breathe around his neck.
A pale, slender arm was locked around his throat in a death grip. Hestia had most of her body wound around him like an octopus, not a single gap to be found — her extraordinary thighs were even thrown across his waist.
She was sleeping deeply, a faint suspicious smear of drool at the corner of her mouth, her cheek squashed slightly out of shape by the pressure, her lips murmuring something garbled like "Haimer, you big dummy…" in the depths of her dreams.
Haimer sighed inwardly.
This one really did live down in the Lower World without a care in the world — even more recklessly than she had up in the Heavens. She'd shed every last scrap of divine dignity.
He raised his hand, pinched the pliant, dough-soft cheek, and tugged it outward with a little force.
"Mmmm… stop it…"
Hestia furrowed her brows and immediately let out a string of protesting little hums through her nose, and the arm clamped around his neck finally slackened its grip.
Haimer took the opportunity to slide his arm free, then threw back the covers and climbed out of bed with care.
He turned back, tugged the cloud-silk quilt that had slipped to the edge of the bed back into place, and pulled it over Hestia from above, completely covering the rather extravagant scenery that had become visible where her nightgown's buttons had come undone.
He dressed, then pushed open the bedroom door.
He stepped down the rosewood staircase and glanced out.
Onigawara Rin, Kikakujou Mary, and the others were already out in the central courtyard, practising swordwork beneath the laurel tree.
At the same time.
Over in the kitchen.
The steady thock-thock of a knife on a chopping board rang out, followed by the bright clang of a spatula against a pan, and beneath it all, complaints being pressed down to the lowest possible volume.
In the kitchen, four figures in tavern-maid uniforms were already in full motion.
"Why do I have to be up this early doing rough work, nya~! My days off, nya~!"
Anya had a flat pan in her grip, the cat ears on top of her head twitching back and forth, her tail behind her skirt swishing so fast it was nearly a blur. The fried egg in the pan flipped up and landed neatly back in the centre — her hands moved like lightning, but her mouth didn't stop for a single second.
"Because you were the one who called out what happened yesterday, that's why, nya." Chloe stood at the chopping board, her boning knife coming down with a clack-clack-clack, its edge catching the light in cold flashes.
Three thick, bone-in ham steaks — in the blink of an eye they were sliced into uniformly even cuts and stacked neatly on the plate beside her, her knife-work even cleaner than the tavern's head chef.
"And besides — all three of us came to pay our debts. Have you got the nerve to be the only one sleeping in at the tavern, nya?"
"Of course I have, nya!"
Anya drew herself up with a supremely self-righteous air.
"Then go ahead and fry that bacon over there too."
Lunor, a half-eaten cucumber still dangling from her mouth, rolled her eyes and squeezed past Anya from behind with two enormous wooden bowls piled high with vegetable salad.
"And keep complaining all you like, but don't let your hands stop — if Mama Mia finds out you came to Kami-sama's place to slack off, your backside is going to bloom like a flower when you get home."
"Yes, yes, nya — Anya will work properly, nya."
The moment Lunor mentioned Mama Mia, Anya fell promptly into line.
On the other side of the kitchen.
Ryu, a white apron tied neatly around her waist, was standing straight and still before the Magic Stone stove, long wooden ladle in hand, gaze locked onto the thick soup churning in the pot, lips pressed tight — an expression as though she were braced for battle.
Compared to the disaster of a while back — when she had blown the stove apart — she was clearly far more practised today. At least the pot wasn't charred, and the smell drifting through the air was honest food, not the kind of scorched reek that could kill a man.
Haimer walked to the kitchen doorway and stopped.
"Good morning."
A calm, gentle voice sounded at the kitchen door.
"Good morning, Kami-sama~" — three voices in unison.
Chloe, Lunor, and Anya turned their heads as one. Ryu's shoulders gave a small tense jerk before she, too, turned.
Catching sight of Haimer, the fingers around the wooden ladle tightened slightly, and her gaze dropped quickly away.
"G… good morning, Kami-sama."
"Breakfast will be ready in just a moment — please wait a little longer."
Ryu's voice was slightly stiff.
"You've all worked hard."
Haimer glanced at the soup in the pot — its colour looked entirely normal — gave a quiet nod, and without lingering further in the kitchen, turned and headed toward the great hall.
Beside the obsidian round table in the great hall, one person was already standing.
— A Pallum girl.
— Liliruca Erde.
She was barefoot on the thick carpet, her chestnut hair tied up neat and tidy with a hair tie, her hands still clasped anxiously in front of her.
"Kami-sama, good morning."
Seeing Haimer approach, Liliruca straightened at once and greeted him.
"You didn't run away." "So you truly have made up your mind."
Haimer pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down.
"Yes!"
Liliruca clutched the hem of her skirt and gave a firm nod:
"Liliruca will do what she promised Kami-sama she would do."
"Good."
Haimer gestured to the empty seat beside him.
"Then sit down and wait for breakfast first — we can't be doing anything on an empty stomach."
"Yes."
Liliruca answered and pulled out the chair Haimer had indicated.
She sat on only one-third of it, her back held perfectly straight, as though she feared that occupying even a fraction more space might make her unwelcome. The defensive posture formed by years of struggling at the very bottom of things — it couldn't disappear entirely in a single night.
Haimer saw it and felt helpless inwardly, but he didn't correct Liliruca's posture. Many things needed time to mend.
Before long, a series of light, quick footsteps came tumbling down the staircase.
"Kami-sama! Good morning!"
Aihara Enju leapt straight from the last few steps of the staircase, landed squarely on the floor, and jogged over to Haimer's side.
Hiruko Kohina followed Aihara Enju down.
The orange-red eyes beneath her dark-blue short hair swept across the maids in the kitchen first, then came to rest on Haimer, and she called out brightly:
"Good morning, Kami-sama."
"Mm, good morning — come and sit."
Haimer reached out and ruffled both of their heads.
Aihara Enju settled into her chair, short legs swinging happily in the air:
"Wow! It smells so good today! Even better than yesterday!"
"Because there are four chefs today, little glutton."
"Oh! I see!"
Lunor set down the last few plates of salad.
Aihara Enju's eyes lit up.
Right on their heels, Tendou Kisara and the Holy Emperor came down the staircase.
Today Tendou Kisara had changed back into her usual clean black-and-white outfit, a lingering trace of sleepiness still in her pale-violet eyes.
The Holy Emperor was wearing the dress she had bought yesterday — composed and graceful.
Only — when she caught sight of Liliruca sitting stiffly in the corner, her steps paused for the briefest moment.
The Holy Emperor walked over to Liliruca's side, pulled out the chair beside her, and sat down, asking softly:
"Did you rest well last night? Are your wounds still hurting?"
Faced with the Holy Emperor, who possessed healing magic, Liliruca hunched her shoulders in a flattered, overwhelmed sort of way, shaking her head repeatedly:
"It doesn't hurt at all! Not even a little! Thank you so much, Holy Emperor-sama!"
Just as the great hall was growing steadily more lively, the heretics who had been arranged in the guest rooms last night began filing out one after another.
At the kitchen doorway, Anya had just walked out carrying two large plates of fried eggs — and looked up directly into a long procession of heretics emerging from the guest corridor.
She froze completely on the spot.
After all — she'd already been through it once at the tavern last night, but back then the impact hadn't hit quite this immediately.
Now, in the full brightness of morning sunlight flooding the room —
A whole group of Dungeon monsters marching obediently out of the hallway in single file to line up for breakfast — no matter how many times you saw it, the scene had an utterly surreal quality to it.
"Nya…"
Half a cat-sound caught in Anya's throat and refused to come out.
Spotting Anya with the plates, Rei politely bent forward and bowed in a perfectly natural manner, her golden wings folding in behind her.
"Good morning. Thank you for looking after us at the tavern yesterday."
Before Anya could get her wide eyes to focus and snap back to her senses.
"By the look of things, they don't just talk — they have considerably better manners than you do as well."
Lunor, seeing this, stepped out of the kitchen, casually plucked the frozen plates out of Anya's hands, and delivered the finishing blow at a leisurely pace.
"That's too much, nya!"
Anya spluttered in indignation.
Thus.
Not long after, Hestia finally came shuffling down from the second floor, rubbing at her eyes.
"Haimer… is breakfast ready? I'm starving…"
Hestia yawned, her voice thick with congestion, and tottered over to Haimer's side in a daze, pulling out the chair next to the head of the table and collapsing bonelessly into it.
She propped her chin on the obsidian tabletop and stared toward the kitchen with glazed, listless eyes.
Seeing this, Haimer reached over and pushed a cup of warm milk in front of her.
"Drink some milk first — it'll be ready soon."
Hestia gave a couple of small hums, extended both little hands to cup the glass, and sipped at it in tiny mouthfuls, her cheeks puffing and deflating rhythmically — a little more alert than she had been a moment ago.
Even so.
After she finished the milk, Hestia still wore the expression of someone who had not quite woken up.
"Let me lean on you and doze for a moment, Haimer."
She mumbled it and then most of her body drooped limply against Haimer's arm, and through the thin material of her nightgown, an astonishing softness transmitted itself directly.
However.
At precisely that moment.
A snow-white figure shot out from the corner of the great hall at tremendous speed.
Haimer felt something thump gently against his chest.
Then he felt something soft and fluffy cannon into him with a clean, distinct little impact.
The Almiraj heretic.
Aruru.
"Chuu—!"
The moment Aruru woke and spotted Haimer across the great hall, her entire body sprang into motion like a released coil and landed squarely in his lap. Her two long ears stood perfectly straight; the tiny horn atop her head nuzzled and nuzzled at Haimer's chin, and a sticky, contented sound rose from her throat. Her enormous ruby eyes gazed up at him with undisguised expectation.
She was, unmistakably, asking for affection.
As a heretic who could not speak, Aruru's ways of expressing emotion seemed to be rather direct.
But.
Hestia, seated right beside them, went rigid where she sat. Her eyes flew open. The corners of those eyes twitched wildly as she stared at this Aruru rolling and nuzzling and refusing to stop in Haimer's lap.
No, hold on.
How could even a rabbit be competing with her over him?!
"You! You! You shameless little rabbit! Get out of Haimer's lap this instant!"
Hestia, breaking into a cold sweat, immediately snapped wide-eyed and flung her arm out with all her might — she looked ready to physically drag Aruru out of Haimer's arms.
"Chuu—"
However.
Faced with the virgin goddess's fury, Aruru only buried her fluffy little head even deeper against Haimer's chest, nuzzling and squirming with even greater abandon, showing not the slightest sign of being affected.
"Waaaaaah! Haimer, look at it! It's provoking me! It's deliberately provoking me!"
Hestia erupted into helpless, furious indignation — and could do absolutely nothing about the Aruru ensconced in Haimer's arms.
____
👻🔥Seek: Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: Jujutsu x Mieruko: Oh no, am I a villain too?
Let's hit these goals:
🎯 100 Powerstones = 1 extra chapter for the public!