— How exhausting. — Freya murmured softly.
The words were gentle. Almost tender. Yet they carried enough weight to pull every gaze in the room toward her.
She rested her cheek against her palm, silver eyes half-lidded, as if truly saddened by the sight before her.
— You've all worked so hard. — she continued, her voice warm, sympathetic. — Meetings upon meetings. Careful planning. Sacrifices made quietly, without complaint...
A faint smile curved her lips.
— And still… we gather here again, speaking of limits. Of patience. Of how much longer this can be sustained.
The atmosphere shifted.
Several gods straightened in their seats. Others frowned openly now, no longer bothering to hide their displeasure. The tone was wrong. Too soft. Too considerate.
Too Freya...
— Choose your words carefully, Freya. — Hephaestus said, her voice flat, though edged with warning.
Freya turned to her slowly, the same serene smile resting on her lips.
— Hate is such a strong word, Hephaestus. I thought we were all being quite… civilized.
Hephaestus' gaze hardened.
— Don't play innocent. I recognized your little plays the moment you decided to descend months ago. You don't move without a reason.
Freya's expression didn't change. If anything, her smile grew warmer.
— Oh? I merely thought I was showing concern for an old friend. After all… it must be terribly painful to realize that devotion alone isn't always enough.
Hermes' eyes narrowed, his voice sharp.
— That almost sounds like you care.
Freya blinked, as if genuinely surprised by the accusation.
— But I care… — she said, allowing herself a brief pause.
Dramatic pause.
— How could I not? A child, lost in the dark. Surrounded by monsters. Clinging to the hope that someone, somewhere, will come for him.
Her silver eyes shifted, briefly and deliberately, toward Hestia.
The goddess of the hearth said nothing, meeting her gaze with calm indifference.
That silence only deepened the weight of Freya's words.
— It would be cruel not to care. — she finished softly.
Hestia's brows furrowed, just slightly, as the meaning beneath those words reached her.
'So that's how you want to frame it.'
A faint stir of emotion rose within her chest, anger, unease, and, whether she liked it or not, shame.
Hestia contained it all. Her expression remained unmoved as if Freya's insinuation had failed to reach her in the slightest.
— And what exactly are you suggesting we do? Abandon the expedition and return to our lives as if nothing happened? — Takemikazuchi asked, displeasure evident in his tone.
Freya blinked, almost genuinely surprised... but she wasn't.
— Abandon? No, no… of course not. How could you imagine something so cruel of me, Takemikazuchi?
She offered him a gentle smile.
— I'm merely pointing out that your current approach doesn't seem very effective. After all… there are faster ways to achieve certain results.
For a moment, no one reacted. They simply stared at Freya, their expressions blank and frustrated.
However, once it became clear that she had no intention of elaborating any further, their minds inevitably began to wander, turning over her words and searching for the meaning she had deliberately left unspoken.
Then, almost like a poorly synchronized theatrical performance, their faces began to change in unison.
First came the uncertainty, moving eyes, tight lips and subtle frowns, as they dissected every possible interpretation hidden within her words.
Then followed the vacant stares of those lost in thought, gazes unfocused as they lingered on the conclusion that seemed, disturbingly, the most plausible.
And finally, realization struck.
Eyes widened. Skin paled. Several of them leaned back instinctively, as if recoiling from the weight of what they had just understood.
— Freya, you whore, what do you think you're implying?! — Hephaestus roared.
She shot to her feet, sending chairs and papers crashing aside as she stormed toward Freya.
Her arm rose, whether to punch her, slap her, or seize her by the collar was impossible to tell. Because before she could do any of it, Miach and Hermes rushed in, blocking her path and grabbing onto her arms, straining to hold her back.
— Calm down, Hephaestus! Don't do anything you'll regret!
— If you cross that line, it'll be the end of your Familia!
Their voices came out strained, punctuated by grunts of effort as they struggled to restrain her. But Hephaestus was far too strong, easily the most physically imposing god in the room without the use of any "Privileges".
Yet even with that mass of muscle and divine fury looming over her, staring at her like a threat made flesh, Freya showed no fear.
She simply maintained her gentle, serene smile, one that, in the eyes of everyone present, could not have been more infuriating.
'It was about time she started causing trouble.' Hermes thought, clenching his teeth.
— Unhand me! This bitch thinks she can come here and play her games without consequences. Well, I'm going to beat the crap out of her until she learns her lesson.
— I know, I know! I'm angry too, but if you don't calm down, everyone will die! — Miach cried desperately as he held onto Hephaestus' arm.
— The Dungeon! The Dungeon! We're still in the Dungeon! — Hermes shouted, pushing against her with all his strength.
Hephaestus didn't answer. She kept forcing her way forward, her face twisted with rage, more furious than either of them had ever seen her.
But by the gods… well, by themselves...
Miach and Hermes' desperate efforts were enough to buy her a few precious seconds, just enough for her anger to cool and her thoughts to realign.
But make no mistake. The moment either of them faltered, her fist would sink into Freya's face with relish.
It simply stopped being impulsive.
She became painfully aware that, in losing control of her emotions, she had begun to let her divine power seep through. Just a trace, not even enough to warp the surroundings or make the Dungeon react outright.
If she continued like that, without restraint, the Dungeon would eventually notice the discrepancy.
And when it did, it wouldn't target her directly. It would respond the only way it could, unleashing its strongest monsters to kill the weaker adventurers.
— Hnff! — Hephaestus snorted loudly, hot air seeming to burst from her nostrils. It might have been comical, if it weren't so menacing.
Then, in a sudden burst of strength, Hephaestus tore herself free from the two, sending them stumbling to the ground.
She straightened her clothes, stepped forward, pointed a finger directly at Freya's face, and spoke in the most polite tone she could muster.
— Listen here, you bitch. — Apparently, not so polite after all.
— You've been parading around the mortal world for so long that you've started to believe your own lies. You're not superior. You're not untouchable! Anyone here could put you in the dirt if they wanted to, so I suggest you learn some restraint before your little charade collapses and drags you down with it.
Without waiting for a response, Hephaestus turned sharply and began to storm off. No one moved to stop her. The others remained where they were, watching in silence as she walked away, the tension she left behind hanging thick in the air.
It almost seemed like the confrontation would end there.
But...
— How unbecoming, Hephaestus. For someone who's endured so many stares because of her face, I would have expected thicker skin. — Freya sighed and said gently in a murmur.
Several eyes widened at once.
— Hephaestus, no! — Hestia cried, jumping to her feet in a hurry.
But it was already too late.
BOOOOOM!
A violent gust of air exploded outward, sweeping through the tent.
For a brief moment, the structure itself seemed to swell like a balloon about to burst before the pressure escaped through every seam and opening, allowing it to snap back into place.
The same could not be said for the inside.
Tables were overturned. Papers scattered. Chairs lay broken or thrown aside. The entire interior had been reduced to chaos in an instant.
Miach and Hermes slowly pushed themselves off the floor, groaning in pain, while Hestia emerged from behind an overturned table, shaken but unharmed.
As the dust settled and the echoes of destruction faded, their attention was inevitably drawn toward the center of the room, where the source of the chaos still stood.
Freya remained there, completely untouched while Hephaestus' fist hung frozen mere centimeters from Freya's face.
It was being held.
Tighten
Takemikazuchi's palm was wrapped around her clenched hand, stopping the blow completely. Despite the overwhelming force behind it, his arm hadn't shifted even slightly, standing firm as if rooted in place.
— Hephaestus, control yourself. Don't let her words sway you. — Takemikazuchi said calmly.
Only then did the others understand.
He had been seated to Freya's right the whole meeting. All he did was to just casually raise his arm and block the punch. Simple.
Hephaestus trembled, teeth clenched, her fury burning clear in her expression as awareness finally caught up with her actions.
— Tch!
She ripped her hand away from him and stormed off, fists clenched and shoulders taut with tension. But there was one thing no one noticed, the faint redness gathering in one of her eyes.
Everyone remained silent, watching her leave, the only sound lingering in the air being her footsteps. Even after she was gone, no one spoke.
...
Takemikazuchi let out a long sigh, ran a hand through his hair, and slowly stood up.
— I think that's enough for today. I'm going to have a drink at Rivira. Are you guys coming? — he said, glancing at the other two gods still in the room.
— Yeah… good idea. — Miach replied, his voice drained.
— A drink sounds perfect. — Hermes agreed.
A few moments later, the three gods departed, each heading their own way, leaving behind only two goddesses.
Freya and Hestia remained in silence for a long time, one behaving as if nothing had happened, the other staring ahead with a hollow, distant gaze, lost deep in thought.
— Freya…
— Hestia?
— I know what you're implying. And I'm telling you right now, it won't work.
Freya merely smiled softly, as if shy, completely disregarding her words.
— Still… let me ask you something.
— Go ahead. I'm listening.
— If you were in my place… what would you do? What would I do…?
Freya lifted her gaze, resting a finger against her chin as though she were pondering the question seriously, but both of them knew it was nothing more than an act.
After a moment, she lowered her head, looked directly at Hestia, and answered without adornment, because it was the truth.
— If it were me, I would do it with my own hands.
Hestia stared at Freya in silence, her gaze sharp and unwavering. Only she understood what those words truly meant.
— I see… — Hestia murmured before turning around and leaving without another word.
She left Freya alone amid the wreckage inside the tent, yet utterly unconcerned.
Calmly, Freya reached for the kettle and poured herself another cup of hot tea, despite the fact that it was already empty.
Then, with graceful composure, she drank in silence, unhurried and serene.
— Well… It seems we'll be returning soon.
...
The forest was quiet, with only the sound of leaves shifting faintly overhead. Trees rose around her, their canopies blocking most of the light. At the base of one of them, Hephaestus sat on the ground, her back against the trunk, arms wrapped around her knees.
She might have been sad. Or maybe not.
There were no signs of crying. Her breathing was steady, her body unmoving, her expression closed off. Whether she was suppressing her emotions or really not sad was impossible to tell.
Steps
Steps
Hephaestus didn't lift her head. She didn't even shift her posture as the sound drew closer, leaves crunching softly under careful steps. The footsteps slowed, then stopped just beside her.
For a brief moment, there was only silence.
Then she felt someone sit down next to her. A familiar warmth brushed against her side, and a gentle weight rested against her shoulder as someone leaned their head against her.
— Are you okay? — a soft female voice asked.
Hestia.
Hephaestus remained unmoving, her gaze fixed somewhere ahead, unfocused. She said nothing.
— Don't mind what she said. She was just trying to get inside your head. Your appearance doesn't matter.
For a moment, it seemed like Hephaestus wouldn't respond at all.
— If it doesn't matter… — she finally said, her voice low and steady. — then there wouldn't be something for me to ignore in the first place.
Hestia stiffened slightly, caught off guard.
— That's not what I meant. It's just that.
— I know. — Hephaestus interrupted, her voice low, without raising it.
She loosened her grip around her knees and slowly lifted her head, staring ahead rather than at Hestia.
— I know what you're trying to say. I've heard it my whole life.
The forest remained quiet around them, leaves shifting softly above, indifferent to the conversation.
— I've gotten used to it. It's hard not to, when you live forever. But that doesn't make it any less annoying.
Hestia studied her expression. Firm, giving nothing away, and yet, she could feel everything that was being held back. She moved a little closer and rested a hand on Hephaestus' arm.
— Do you want to talk about it?
— No. And you?
— Me neither. I think I've already handed out enough comfort for a lifetime.
— Hah. — Hephaestus let out a short laugh. — That's true… you know, you're actually very good at comforting people.
— Really?
— Yeah. You have that calm presence, a soft way of speaking. I think mortals would compare it to a mother. Not that we have that... but you get what I mean.
— Well, I am the Goddess of Family. I guess it comes with the role.
Hestia smiled faintly.
— And I've had plenty of practice. — She said joking.
— Figures.
— Seriously, though… do all gods have issues? I swear, at least half of them have shown up at my house at some point asking for advice.
— Probably boredom. An idle mind and all that.
— Boredom really does suck.
— Yeah. It really does. — Hephaestus murmured.
The two then fell silent, simply enjoying each other's company and the fresh forest air... how there's an air current underground is a mystery.
...
— Hephaestus...
— Uhm?
— A question, hypothetically speaking, if I were about to do something incredibly stupid, like, really stupid, what would you do?
Hephaestus frowned, apprehensive, she glanced seriously out of the corner of her eye at Hestia and asked.
— I would hit you hard on the head, then I would help you.
— Urgh... — Hestia groaned in pain, she doesn't like what she hears.
— Does this have anything to do with what Freya said? If so, then forget it.
— Well... yes, but not exactly. — She replied awkwardly.
— Hestia, you know we can't do this, it's against the rules, there's no way we can let something of this magnitude go unnoticed like the rest of the things we do.
— I know, but...
— Do you know what will happen afterward? You'll be banished back to the divine world for ten generations. The boy you break the rules to save will die one way or another, and it will all have been in vain. Take my word for it, it's not worth it.
Hephaestus remained silent after saying what he had to say. But she knew she wouldn't hear the end of it and mentally prepared herself for whatever Hestia was going to do.
She waited and waited, but nothing happened. She frowned, finding this strange, then turned her face to look at her.
Hestia was silent, staring intensely at her, without looking away or any special feeling behind it.
Glare
Hephaestus' eye twitched.
— Hestia. I've already said what I needed to say. This is a terrible idea. The most idiotic thing that has ever come out of your mouth. If you think I'm going to support this insanity, you're very mistaken.
Glare!
— We are doing our job. That's why we're here. And we will succeed. We just need more time.
Glare! Glare!
Hephaestus clenched her jaw.
— We don't need to jump straight into desperate measures yet. The boy is-
Glare! Glare! Glare!
— Stop looking at me like that.
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
— I'm serious!
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
A vein throbbed visibly on Hephaestus' forehead.
— You're not even listening anymore, are you?!
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
— Say something! Anything!
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare! Glare!
Hephaestus shot to her feet.
— OKAY! — she roared, throwing her arms up in frustration. — OKAY, FINE! I'll help! Gods damn it!
She turned on Hestia, fuming.
— But don't you dare pretend this is a good idea. And when everything goes wrong, I'm saying "I told you so" every single day for the rest of eternity!
Hestia finally blinked.
And smiled.
Then, before Hephaestus could even process what she had just agreed to, Hestia moved.
— THANK YOU! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! — she shouted, throwing herself forward and wrapping her arms tightly around Hephaestus' torso.
The impact nearly knocked Hephaestus off balance.
— Hestia! Get off me! What are you doing?!
— I knew it! I knew you wouldn't abandon me! — Hestia squeezed even tighter, rubbing her cheek against Hephaestus' shoulder without a shred of shame.
— You're the best! The absolute best!
— Stop that! — Hephaestus snapped, face burning. — I didn't agree because I wanted to! I agreed because you psychologically assaulted me with your eyes!
— Still counts! — Hestia beamed, completely ignoring the complaint.
— Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
— You're crushing me! — Hephaestus growled, finally managing to grab Hestia by the shoulders and shove her back just enough to breathe. — And wipe that stupid grin off your face before I change my mind.
Hestia stepped back… but the smile didn't fade. If anything, it grew brighter.
— You won't. — she said cheerfully.
Hephaestus clicked her tongue and turned away.
— Tch. — she muttered. — I can't believe I let myself get dragged into this.
Hestia watched her for a moment, eyes soft.
— Really… thank you.
Hephaestus froze for half a second.
Then she scoffed.
— Don't get sentimental! — She said harshly.
Hestia just smiled.
— We don't have time to waste. I'll go ahead. You warn the others. — Hestia said, already turning away.
— Hestia, wait!
She didn't.
Hestia jumped forward, leaned up on her toes, and planted a quick kiss on Hephaestus' cheek.
Muah!
— Thank you! — she said brightly, already moving again.
— Hey! Don't just! Come back here! Hestia!!! — Hephaestus shouted after her.
But Hestia was already running, her footsteps fading into the forest before another word could reach her.
Hephaestus stood there for a moment, hand half-raised, scowl ready… only to let it fall with a tired breath. A small, resigned smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
— …Unbelievable. — she muttered, turning the other way. — Absolutely unbelievable.
Then she left.
...
Hestia ran.
She ran with everything she had, her small frame cutting through the forest like an arrow loosed from a bow. Roots, rocks, low branches, none of it slowed her down. She weaved between trees as if the path itself was opening for her, feet barely touching the ground.
Her breath came fast, not from exhaustion, but from excitement.
A wide smile stretched across her face, impossible to suppress.
'It's happening. It's really happening. After all this time…'
Her heart pounded, warmth spreading through her chest as she pushed herself harder, faster.
'Wait for me just a little longer, Luki. Mommy is going to save you!'
The entrance to the Eighteenth Floor loomed ahead.
— Luki… We're coming home. Together. — she whispered, voice filled with certainty.
She crossed the threshold...
...and stopped short.
Dozens of adventurers stood there, scattered across the entrance, bent over, gasping for air. Faces pale. Armor scratched and dented. Some leaned on weapons, others on each other, all of them looking as if they had just sprinted for their lives.
Hestia blinked.
— Eh?