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Hey! Here with a new chapter!
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The echoes of the battle resonated with an intensity that made the very air tremble. The purple wood of the Great Tree Labyrinth creaked, torn apart by the power unleashed in each clash.
Riveria held her staff firmly in her hands, trying to maintain her focus amidst the roar of the flames, the clang of metal, and the shouts of the Freya Familia's Executives. Before her, the scene was a semi-controlled chaos: Yharon, the Dragon with incandescent feathers, moved like a living storm, his fire and presence dominating every inch of the field.
Allen, Hogni, and the Gulliver Brothers were cornered. Not so much for lack of power—each was a veteran in their own right—but for the unpredictability of their opponent. Every time they tried to close the distance, Yharon would tear through the ground as if it were air, emerging right beneath them in a fiery charge. This ability threw them off balance: it was as if the dragon could alter the laws of the environment at will.
"What the hell is that Monster?!" Hogni shouted as he dodged a burst of flame that evaporated the air around him.
"Shut up and focus!" Allen snapped, twisting his spear to block the blow of a claw that erupted from the ground. The impact sent him flying several meters backward, his body tracing a line of fire across the bridge. He got to his feet through gritted teeth, his arm twitching with pain. "Tsk…damn thing."
Yharon roared, a deep vibration that shook everyone present. His eyes burned like coals, reflecting a ferocious intelligence. Riveria, meanwhile, seized every moment the Dragon granted her to move strategically. She had fought alongside him for only a few minutes, but she had already understood his rhythm. Yharon didn't need orders: he knew when to attack, when to defend, and when to distract.
Allen turned his face toward Hogni. "Hold on to the dragon! I'll go for that Elf!"
"Endure it? Do I look immortal?" Hogni retorted, turning just in time to avoid another onslaught. The fire grazed him, singeing his shoulder.
Riveria took a deep breath, feeling the mana stir within her body. The air changed: the temperature dropped suddenly, and steam began to condense around her. It was the unmistakable sign of her chant.
She closed her eyes, and her voice rose above the chaos:
"Harbinger of the end, the white snow. Blow with the wind before the twilight. Closing light, the freezing land…"
The Executives turned around in unison. Allen swore.
But it was already too late.
Yharon emerged right in the middle of the enemy group, his body engulfed in golden fire, slamming into the ground with tremendous force. The shockwave hurled the Gulliver Brothers into the air, while Hogni barely managed to take cover. Riveria opened her eyes, flashes of magical power reflecting in her emerald pupils.
"Blizzard, the three severe winters — my name is Alf."
The Wynn Fimbulvetr spell was unleashed.
The air turned biting. The temperature plummeted, and a colossal blizzard erupted from the magic circle at their feet. The wind swept away the frost and snow, freezing everything in its path.
The four Gulliver Brothers barely had time to scream before they were trapped in the ice, immobilized amidst their expressions of surprise and horror, though it wasn't easily visible through their helmets. Hogni fell to his knees, his sword coated in a layer of frost as he plunged it into the ground to avoid being blown away. Allen, in a desperate attempt, tried to block the onslaught with his spear, but the cold reached him nonetheless. His arm was encased in ice, pinning the spear to the wall.
For a moment, silence returned.
Only the icy wind whistling through the branches of the Labyrinth accompanied the scene.
Riveria lowered the staff slowly. The cold air mingled with the steam of her breath.
Allen growled, slamming his fist against the icy surface. The crack opened, and the ice trapping his arm shattered into fragments. His gaze was a razor's edge, but before he could approach Riveria, Yharon stepped in with a thunderous roar.
The dragon twisted its neck, its fiery feathers glowing brightly. With a lash of its tail, it struck the ground and raised a wall of fire between itself and the Executives. Allen stepped back, shielding his face from the heat.
"…Tch. Annoying beyond belief."
Riveria watched him silently, her staff pointing slightly toward the ground, but ready to cast again if necessary. Beside her, Yharon snorted, the air around his jaws distorting from the lingering heat.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Yharon looked at her out of the side of his eye, letting out a sound that wasn't exactly a growl or a roar. It sounded more like a snort of approval… or impatience.
Riveria couldn't help but smile a little.
"You really are just as stubborn as he is, aren't you?" she said gently.
She then recalled the last time she had seen Bell Cranel. Their conversation had been…tense. She had been cold, perhaps too blunt in her judgments. She hadn't considered him an equal, not even a full-fledged ally. But now, with that Dragon at her side, she felt a pang of remorse.
"Perhaps… I owe him an apology," she murmured softly.
Yharon bowed his head, as if he understood, and turned his attention back to the front.
The remnants of the ice still shimmered, but the battle was far from over. The four Gulliver Brothers were beginning to crack their icy prisons with brute force, and Allen, though wounded, showed no signs of surrendering. Riveria noticed this, and her body immediately tensed.
Allen pointed his spear at her, the ice still clinging to his arm. "Don't think this is over, you old hag."
That last word caused Riveria's face to contort in a mixture of disgust and anger.
But Yharon wouldn't let him advance. He roared, partially unfurling his wings. A whirlwind of fire rose, mingling with the still-falling ice flakes, creating a dance of contrasts: fire and frost swirling in a spiral, a spectacle as beautiful as it was deadly.
The heat spread in a wave, slowly melting the frozen areas.
Riveria took a deep breath, trying to suppress her anger. "It will end when we decide it will."
They both lunged again, the sound of metal and magic colliding with pure violence. Yharon moved beside her, striking once more, his claws leaving burning scars on the ground.
Meanwhile, in a corner of her mind, Riveria couldn't help but think about the origins of her ally. How that boy—so young, so naive at times—had managed to win the loyalty of such a creature. And, above all, that while she fought here, the boy and Ais were still facing the monstrous man called Ottar.
The roars coming from the other end of the floor confirmed it: the fight was still going on.
Her heart sank slightly. Not from fear, but from genuine concern.
"Ais…" she whispered, clutching the staff.
Yharon turned for a moment toward the distant sound, letting out a short roar, almost as an instinctive response. Riveria noticed it, and her gaze hardened.
"I'll finish this quickly. They need us."
The dragon lowered its body, tensing its muscles, its fire gathering like a rising sun beneath its chest. Riveria raised the staff once more, the icy aura surrounding her.
The air split between fire and frost.
And together, Dragon and High Elf launched another attack.
…
The flames and dust of battle blanketed the battlefield like a raging storm. Every blow from Ottar was an avalanche, every move a brutal reminder of the difference between an Adventurer and the King of Adventurers. Even so, Bell and Ais remained standing.
Bell gasped, his chest drenched in sweat and blood. The wound Ottar had inflicted earlier, though temporarily healed using his Explosion Spell and the [Divine Blessing of the Pyromaniac], burned with every breath. The air seared his lungs, and his right arm trembled as he gripped the Hestia Sword. Beside him, Ais barely concealed her exhaustion: her ragged breathing, her stiffer movements. Her golden hair fell in disarray across her face as she kept her eyes fixed on the enemy.
Ottar, on the other hand, stood imposingly. He had hardly any visible scratches, although his breathing was deeper than before. The Boaz's gaze remained the same—cold, intense, restrained—but his posture indicated that for the first time he was taking the fight somewhat seriously.
Bell gritted his teeth. "It doesn't matter... I have to keep going..." he thought.
The next exchange was brutal. Ottar advanced with a roar, one of his swords sending sparks flying as it grazed the ground. Bell barely managed to intercept the blow with the Hestia Sword, but the force of the impact sent him flying several meters backward. The air escaped his lungs and his back slammed against a split rock.
Ais seized the opportunity, appearing like a flash behind Ottar. Her sword, Desperate, traced an arc that sliced through the air, but the Boaz spun with surprising speed, blocking with the hilt of his weapon. The clash generated a shockwave that swept away the dust.
They both separated, breathing heavily.
And then, something streaked through the air.
Several bluish flashes—rapid and precise—struck between the combatants, generating bursts of lightning that illuminated the entire field. Bell, Ais, and Ottar were forced to retreat.
"What…?" Bell murmured, looking up with the Hestia Sword ready to repel another attack. His instinct screamed danger. Even if he's now immune to thunderstrikes and Lightning Magic thanks to his [Divine Blessing of Thunderclouds], he still didn't want to risk taking that Spell to the face.
Through the smoke, a figure appeared descending from a broken branch of the Labyrinth. A cloak billowed behind him, and the magical energy of the electric arrows still crackled in his hands.
Bell did not recognize him.
Although his [Divine Blessing of Context] helped him at that moment by revealing the blonde Elf's identity.
[Hedin Selland, former Vice-Captain of the Freya Familia].
The Elf landed gracefully, but what caught everyone's attention was not his entrance, but what he was carrying on his shoulders.
On one side he carried Haruhime, and on the other Mikoto, both unconscious or dizzy from the speed at which he had transported them. They literally looked like sacks of potatoes carried by a hunter in a hurry.
Without saying a word, Hedin dropped them without any ceremony.
The two landed face down, letting out pained groans.
"H-Hedin-dono!" Mikoto complained, standing up with a hand on her head.
Haruhime, with her ears drooping and her face red, murmured weakly, "That... hurt..."
Bell blinked a couple of times, confused by the scene.
"What…what's going on here? Why—?"
Hedin interrupted him with a dry look.
"I'm not going to repeat it. I already explained it to them."
Bell, still with the Hestia Sword at the ready, looked at him suspiciously.
"So...you're helping us? Betraying Freya...?"
"Call it what you will," the Elf replied coldly, his gaze briefly shifting to Ottar. "My loyalty remains unchanged. But if the well-being of my Goddess depends on your survival, then so be it."
The air grew tense. Ottar didn't move. His eyes narrowed with mild curiosity, but he didn't take a single step forward.
Hedin turned towards Haruhime.
"Start, Renard. You know what to do."
The renard looked at him for a moment, surprised by his tone. Then she nodded, though her hands trembled slightly as she clasped her palms together.
Bell took a step forward. "Wait! Haruhime, stay back! This is too dangerous!"
She looked at him with determination, her ears twitching. "No…I can't. Not while I can help you, Bell-sama."
Bell opened his mouth to insist, but seeing the firmness in her gaze, he stopped.
Haruhime smiled gently and began to sing.
Her voice was sweet, clear, but full of power.
"Grow. That power and that vessel. Breadth of wealth and breadth of wishes…"
A golden light began to envelop her. The wind around her stirred as if in response to her chant.
"Until the bell tolls, bring forth glory and illusion…"
Bell felt the magical energy condense, spreading towards him like a warm breeze.
"Grow. Confine divine offerings within this body. This golden light bestowed from above…"
Magical symbols appeared beneath Haruhime's feet, spreading in concentric circles that illuminated the ground.
"Into the hammer and into the ground, may it bestow good fortune upon you..."
The brightness intensified until it completely enveloped Bell. For a moment, his body was bathed in golden light, the aura of power emanating from him growing to an overwhelming level.
"Grow."
The last verse rang out like a grand bell.
Bell opened his eyes. His body burned with energy, but not fire: it was a steady, radiant power that strengthened him from within. The wounds seemed to hurt less, his breathing stabilized, and the weight of the Hestia Sword no longer felt so crushing.
"Thank you, Haruhime…" he murmured with a brief smile, then fixed his gaze on Ottar.
The Boaz, meanwhile, had silently observed the entire scene. He hadn't moved. He hadn't interrupted the singing. He simply stood there.
When Bell and Ais got ready again, Ottar spoke for the first time in minutes.
"Then show me, Bell Cranel," he said in a deep voice. "Show me just how far my Goddess's favorite can go."
The tone wasn't mocking or contemptuous. It was… respectful.
Ais exchanged a glance with Bell. They both understood without words: this was the opportunity. Small, tiny, but real.
Ais took a deep breath. The wind began to swirl around her.
She had sworn never to use that power against anyone, not after what happened last time. But the situation no longer allowed for reservations. If there was ever a time to break her promise, it was now.
She closed her eyes, and her voice rose above the roar of the wind:
"Tempest…"
The air roared in response, engulfing her in a furious green current. Her hair lifted, and her sword began to glow with a cyan light. The wind didn't just surround her: it obeyed her.
Ottar looked up, gauging the threat. His expression didn't change, but the tension in his muscles did.
Bell took a step forward, his golden aura intensifying. Ais floated just inches above the ground, the green wind swirling like a living spiral.
For a moment, silence reigned over the field.
Then, the world exploded.
Ais lunged first, a flash of gold and white slicing through the air. Ottar blocked with one of his swords, but the impact stirred up a wave of wind that forced him back. Bell appeared from his flank, his sword glowing, attacking in a succession of slashes that clanged like metallic bells.
Ottar resisted, but this time he retreated.
The ground cracked beneath his feet; each blow from the Adventurers forced him to defend with even greater force. The Hestia Sword burned like a living flame, and the Magic of Ariel roared like a hurricane.
Hedin watched from a distance, his arms crossed. His eyes remained cold, but deep down, a spark of recognition flickered.
"So that's what the Goddess saw in you…" she murmured.
Haruhime, still on her knees, watched the scene with tears in her eyes.
"Please… don't stop, Bell-sama…"
The battle became a whirlwind of fire, wind, and steel. Bell dodged with impossible reflexes, each movement fueled by the many Divine Blessings that strengthened him. Ais, on the other hand, seemed like a lightning bolt moving with absolute freedom.
Ottar roared, his sword glowing with pure energy. The blow he unleashed shattered the ground, creating a chasm that split the field. Bell and Ais leaped in opposite directions, but instead of fleeing, they propelled themselves back toward him, attacking in perfect synchronization.
The crash was deafening.
An explosion of light, fire, and wind swept across the entire field, leaving behind a sudden silence.
The dust began to settle.
Amidst the cracks in the ground, a white and gold figure still stood, breathing heavily. Bell, with the Hestia Sword resting on the ground, still had fire in his eyes.
Beside her, Ais, covered in wounds and with the wind calming around her, stood firm.
Ottar stood before them. Wounded. Somewhat tired. But smiling.
"Yes…" murmured Boaz, in a grave voice. "That is how it should be."
Bell gritted his teeth. His body screamed in pain, but his heart… burned brighter than ever.
And yet, he did not stop.
His red eyes, blazing with fury and willpower, remained fixed on Ottar. The Boaz, despite his exhaustion, continued to withstand each attack as if he were a living mountain. The Boaz's muscles tensed as he received a sword strike from Bell and then a thrust from Ais, responding with a brutal force that shook the air.
But something began to change.
A different kind of warmth coursed through Bell's body, not from fire or magic, but from his own heart. It was as if a second pulse had awakened within him. His vision distorted for a moment, and before his eyes, new runes appeared, glowing with a golden light.
[Divine Blessing of the Empress]: Drastically increases your power and speed when you're about to collapse from exhaustion, emitting a crimson-black aura on your body and sprouting a pair of small horns from your temples.
[Divine Blessing of Indestructibility]: Imbues all of your weapons and armor with properties similar to Durandal, making them much more durable than they normally are.
[Divine Blessing of Stupefaction]: The effects of stupefaction will last three times longer on your enemies.
The lyrics were engraved in his mind, accompanied by a voice that almost sounds like it's mocking him, but was full of majesty.
A voice said: "Even in your ruin… be glorious."
Bell barely had time to process it before a new notification floated in front of his inner view.
[It's a horrible night to have a curse.]
Bell's body arched for an instant, and a black aura tinged with crimson erupted from his body. An untamed, almost demonic energy coursed through him. A sharp pain spread through his skull, and, to the astonishment of Ais and Haruhime, a pair of small horns began to sprout from his temples.
They weren't large, barely curved backwards, but the change in their presence was overwhelming. It's as if Bell had become a Demon.
The air around him grew denser, charged with pure energy. His movements, once impulsive and powerful, were now sharp, swift, almost impossible to follow with the naked eye.
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he vanished. Ottar barely managed to raise one of his twin swords before Bell appeared before him, slashing in a horizontal arc. Sparks flew as the blades clashed, and Ais, using the opening, charged in from the opposite flank with a slash that sent the Boaz reeling.
For a few seconds, Bell and Ais were coordinated almost perfectly. Fire and wind mingled in a destructive firestorm; each attack from one was immediately followed by the other. Ottar blocked, parried, dodged, but for the first time, he was retreating with real difficulty.
The ground beneath their feet began to sink, Bell's cuts glittered, and the air roared with each of Ais's blows.
Haruhime, from her furthest position alongside Mikoto, both watched in wonder and fear.
"Bell-sama…he's moving so fast…what…what is that?"
Hedin, standing beside her, watched the fight with an impassive expression.
Ottar growled, taking another step back before letting out a roar that shook the field. With a violent movement, he threw his mace into the air and drew his twin swords from his belt, one in each hand.
The Boaz spun around, its power surging in a torrent of crimson energy, and the swords clashed with Bell and Ais's weapons in a deadly dance. Sparks flew like a rain of fire, and the shockwave pushed even Haruhime back.
Ottar spun around, separating the two adventurers with a cross-punch so swift it was barely visible. Bell slid several meters along the ground while Ais rolled through the air before landing on one knee, gasping for breath.
"Bell-sama/-dono!" Haruhime and Mikoto shouted at the same time.
The young man sat up, his breath ragged, the dark aura still surrounding him. His horns seemed to glow faintly, and although his gaze was fiercer, there was still clarity in his eyes.
Ottar exhaled slowly.
"What you feel… it's not strength, kid. It's the boundary between man and beast."
Bell smiled with a hint of defiance.
"Then I'll have to cross it."
Haruhime swallowed, looking at the scene with concern, and turned to Hedin.
"Won't…won't you help? You could—"
"No."
The Renard looked at him, blinking.
"Eh?"
"I said no," Hedin repeated, without raising his voice, his gaze fixed on the confrontation.
His tone was so dry and direct that Haruhime remained silent, her ears drooping slightly. Not out of fear, but out of discomfort at the utter coldness of his response.
Meanwhile, on the field, Ais and Bell launched themselves again.
Bell's power continued to grow with every second his body remained standing. The power of the [Divine Blessing of the Empress], the [Divine Blessing of the Mercenary King], the [Divine Blessing of the True Hero], and Haruhime's Magic roared through his veins, propelling him beyond his own limits.
Each time Ottar hit him, his speed increased.
The Hestia Sword held firm while the impact of his attacks now left a dull echo in Ottar's body, prolonging each stun, each hesitation, for crucial seconds.
The fire and the wind joined together once more, forming a blazing whirlwind that engulfed the three combatants.
From afar, Haruhime watched with her heart beating strongly.
"Bell-sama…"
The air broke with a bang.
Ottar unleashed a blow with the force of a storm, and Ais barely had time to cross her sword in defense. The impact sent her flying, her body spinning before she landed on her knees several meters back, gasping for breath. Her arm trembled with pain, the edge of her weapon smoking.
Bell looked at her with concern for a second… and that instant was enough for silence to take over the field.
Ottar had stopped moving.
Bell too.
Their eyes met amidst the dust and floating embers. Two heavy breaths, two bodies covered in wounds, two wills refusing to yield.
The world seemed to shrink to just the two of them.
The tension was palpable. Ottar's deep amber eyes were locked onto Bell's, which burned with an incandescent red. Between them, the air vibrated, distorted by the pressure of their auras.
A dull sound marked the pulse of both of them.
Tum.
Their hearts beat in unison.
Bell gripped the Hestia Sword tightly. Ottar slowly twirled his twin blades, letting the metal grate with an echo that seemed to shatter the absolute silence.
At that moment, everything seemed to slow down. The air grew heavy. Each breath felt like an internal roar. Their pupils dilated, blood pounded in their ears, and gravity itself seemed to step aside to make way for the confrontation.
The silence was broken.
They both screamed.
"WOOOOOOAH!!!"
The ground shattered as they launched themselves simultaneously, Bell's fire and Ottar's fury colliding like two meteors about to crash. The space between them compressed, waves of energy distorting the light…
And then, a scream.
"NO!!!"
A clear, female voice, broken by despair.
A figure intervened between the two just before the impact.
Her silver hair waved in the air.
Time stood still.
Bell and Ottar opened their eyes in horror upon recognizing her. They both abruptly halted their attacks, their swords coming within inches of her body. The tip of Ottar's weapon grazed her forehead, and a thin trickle of blood slowly trickled down Freya's pale skin.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Freya stood erect, arms outstretched, her silhouette illuminated by the glow of the still-floating fire. Blood trickled down her face, staining her lips, but her expression showed not pain, but anguish.
Ottar was the first to break the silence. "My... Goddess..."
His voice, normally firm, trembled. The Boaz took a step back, his eyes wide open, unable to comprehend what he had just done. The blade of his sword fell to the ground, and his hands began to shake.
Ottar's face showed fear.
Fear of oneself.
Fear of the unforgivable sin he had just committed.
Freya barely turned her face, the crimson thread still running down her forehead. Her voice came out soft, broken.
"Please… stop…"
Bell still didn't move. His body was motionless, the fire of his sword flickering slowly. His eyes, still shining with the intensity of his blessings, reflected Freya's figure… and for a moment, all the chaos, the pain, the fury, vanished.
"...Freya…" he murmured, barely audible.
The Goddess turned completely around, her back to Ottar, and looked at him. Her gaze was gentle, and despite the blood, she asked, "Are you alright...?"
Bell didn't respond immediately. His mind went blank. He remembered the moment he first saw her, the unconscious fascination she held for everyone… and the weight of everything he had done.
The destruction of the Ishtar Familia.
The massacre of the Apollo Familia.
The days when he believed Freya was someone special and the moment he discovered she was a monster who had trampled on lives that didn't need to be attacked or even killed.
The fire inside slowly died down.
Seeing her like that —standing protecting him from Ottar— didn't fit with the image he had formed of her.
For a moment, he did not see the Goddess of Beauty.
He saw a woman, her eyes clouded with sadness, bleeding from protecting him.
And that contrast… was too much.
The weight of the battle, the strain of his blessings, the physical pain, the emotional confusion… it all hit him at the same time.
Bell tried to take a step toward her, but his legs buckled. The warmth that had sustained him until then vanished like smoke, and his body doubled over.
"B-Bell-sama…" Haruhime managed to murmur from behind, her voice filled with anguish.
Bell fell to his knees, his sword plunging into the ground, a trickle of blood escaping from the wound in his chest. He could still see Freya, silhouetted against the light, the fire reflecting off her silver hair.
"I don't understand…" he managed to whisper, his voice barely a whisper. "Why…?"
Freya approached, the echo of her footsteps filling the silence left by the battle. She knelt before him, gently cupping his face in her hands. Her cold fingers were stained with the blood that still trickled from the cut on his forehead.
"Because…" she said gently. "…I don't want you to get hurt again because of me."
Bell felt a knot in his chest. He didn't know if it was guilt, anger, or something deeper. He tried to speak, but only a weak gasp escaped his lips.
Freya stroked her cheek, without taking her eyes off her.
"That's enough… my Little Hero."
Behind her, Ottar remained paralyzed. His breathing was ragged, his mind caught in a whirlwind of self-loathing. The tips of his swords still glistened with the blood of his Goddess, and he couldn't even raise his head to look at her.
The fire was slowly dying out.
The sand and ash fell like snow.
Bell, his vision blurred, tried to stay conscious a little longer. He caught a glimpse of the red gleam in Freya's eyes, and in that instant—just before his body gave way completely—he thought he had never seen that goddess so… human.
And then, it collapsed.
His knees sank into the earth, his body fell forward, and Freya held him in her arms, hugging him desperately as the heat of the fire completely faded away.
"That's it…" she whispered, closing her eyes. "No more…"