The banquet's atmosphere gradually grew livelier.
Many gods, long separated, drank fine wine as they reminisced about days gone by.
"Shorty, never thought you'd actually show up."
Hearing that irritating voice, Hestia's expression immediately soured.
Loki, dressed in a sleek, tight-fitting gown, was making her rounds, greeting the assembled gods with her usual flippant charm. "Fei-fei—Freya—Shorty—"
Her tone alone was enough to show how poorly she got along with Hestia.
"Well, Loki, of course I came. Unlike a certain goddess, I actually keep my promises," Hestia shot back coldly.
"You mean that healer business? That wasn't my fault—it was all Freya's doing," Loki said carelessly, her expression full of mischief as she tossed the topic toward the Goddess of Beauty beside her.
"..."
Freya smiled faintly. "The children acted behind my back, and I've already punished them for it. Hestia, if this caused you any trouble, please allow me to apologize."
Hestia pursed her lips. Somehow, she felt like she knew the least about everything that had happened involving that boy.
But Bell just wouldn't tell her what really went on.
"What's wrong, Hestia? You look a little scary right now," Hephaestus interjected, breaking the stiff silence to smooth things over.
"It's nothing. If anyone needs to apologize, it should be to Bell." Hestia glanced briefly at the radiant Freya, then shook her head. "Actually, on second thought… never mind. I'll tell Bell for you."
A sudden feeling tugged at her heart—if Bell ever came face to face with Freya, something unpredictable might happen.
"To earn your forgiveness is my honor," Freya said gracefully, every movement exuding elegance. "If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
The Goddess of Beauty was more breathtaking than any flower. Even her retreating silhouette drew awestruck gazes from the gathered deities.
"So... what exactly was Freya doing here?" Hestia murmured, still puzzled.
Hephaestus replied, "Didn't she come to ask you something?"
"..."
A goddess as aloof and proud as Freya, who so rarely appeared in public, had attended this long-avoided banquet—just to ask about a mortal's love affair?
Was it because Freya didn't understand love?
Or... had she taken a special interest in that child?
Hestia couldn't make sense of it.
Though she herself, along with Athena and Artemis, was counted among the three great virgin goddesses of the Tenkai, there were many other gods like Freya—beings who had never known love.
From a divine perspective, the fleeting, fragile love sought by those of the Lower World was a mystery—something so temporary it was almost absurd.
"Freya really has changed," Hestia said quietly.
"For us, that's quite rare," Hephaestus agreed, casting a glance toward Loki.
"Yeah—Loki's always been the annoying type," Hestia said without restraint. "I heard that back in Tenkai, she once stirred up a massacre among the gods of an entire region just for fun."
Loki, the subject of their conversation, simply laughed it off. "That's all ancient history! These days, just seeing the smiles of my children—my Familia—is enough to make me happy."
"They just got back from an expedition, didn't they?" Hephaestus asked.
"Yeah. Ran into some nasty monsters. We'll probably have to ask your Familia for help again," Loki admitted, recalling Finn's report about the corrosive beasts, her face darkening slightly.
"Leave the weapons to us," Hephaestus said with a light smile.
"M-me too?" Hestia tugged at the Smith Goddess's skirt, eyes hopeful.
"...Your child's still a rookie, isn't he? Giving him a high-performance weapon would just stunt his growth," Hephaestus reasoned. "Besides, you can't even afford to pay for it. And as I've already said—I'm not lending you more money."
"Come on, for old times' sake..." Hestia pleaded, undeterred.
"That's exactly what you said the last time you freeloaded at my place." Hephaestus sighed, knowing full well that if this went on, her old friend would probably throw away her dignity and cling to her leg right there at the banquet.
Resigned, she let out another sigh. "Fine. We'll talk about it after the banquet. I'll... consider it."
"I love you, best friend!" Hestia grinned, grabbing her hand affectionately.
The red-haired goddess—known throughout the heavens as the Divine Smith—could only shake her head and smile helplessly.
The Hephaestus Familia is the only one in all of Orario that operates without relying on adventurers for income. The weapons they forge stand as the very emblem of the blacksmith's craft. Even a modest, well-balanced weapon can be a tremendous boon for the impoverished youth of the Hestia Familia.
Loki glanced at Hestia's radiant face and frowned slightly.
"Come to think of it, how long have you two known each other? Feifei, you really do spoil her."
"I haven't agreed to anything yet. As for us? Probably about as long as you and Freya." Hephaestus gave a bitter smile.
"My relationship with the Goddess of Beauty isn't nearly as good as yours. Aren't we still rival Familia even now?" Loki's tone was weary, her words somewhere between truth and jest.
"True enough. Who knows? Maybe you and Hestia will get along someday," Hephaestus suggested tentatively.
"Absolutely impossible!"
Both goddesses shouted in unison.
To Hestia, their feud had begun with Loki. They had never been close—barely a century had passed since they first met. Yet Loki would still go out of her way just to mock her, like earlier today.
The reason was simple. Hestia had something Loki didn't. That was the generous, bouncing "melons" on her chest.
"Loki, are you wearing a gown? It looks like you put it on backwards."
Hestia struck first.
"You're one to talk! What, did you forget your gown at home and show up in that cheap rag instead?" Loki's brow twitched. "Oh, right. Someone as broke as you probably can't even afford a proper gown."
Neither backed down. Hephaestus could almost see the sparks—blue lightning flaring between their eyes.
A clash was inevitable. Several gods had already turned to watch, eager for the spectacle.
Just as Hephaestus was wondering how to ease the tension, another goddess appeared. She carried a power capable of crushing the entire conflict—an overwhelming, disarming presence. Beneath that ample chest, even Loki couldn't muster resentment.
"How about a glass of wine to calm down?" Demeter's voice, like her figure, radiated soothing warmth and boundless grace.
"D–Demeter... you're here too?" Loki stared at the divine curves barely contained by the gown, visibly shaken.
"I was just chatting with another god."
Demeter turned slightly, revealing a blond man standing beside the table.
Hestia narrowed her eyes in mild surprise.
"...Dionysus?"
...