As the sun set over Orario, the voices of adventurers, travelers, and merchants blended together, painting a thriving picture of prosperity.
Yet in one corner on the southern side of the city, a completely different kind of noise rang out.
Bang!
A dull impact echoed across the field.
A battered black-haired catman holding a silver-white spear took a heavy blow directly to the face. His features visibly distorted from the impact before his entire body was sent flying backward.
Then—
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Four more impacts followed.
Four Pallums clad in silver-white armor were scattered across the battlefield like bowling pins after being struck by the warrior standing at its center.
"That makes fifteen times today, doesn't it?"
"Heh... If a honed blade is the paradise this world longs for, then surely we too should be part of that world. Ngh... m-my right hand is about to go out of control..."
"You don't have to force yourself to join the conversation, Hogni."
Watching the battle in the distance, which looked more like mortal enemies trying to kill one another, the black elf curled his lips into a strange smile.
Unfortunately, the wording coming out of his mouth was so embarrassing that the white elf beside him cut him off with the ease of someone long accustomed to it.
This was Freya Familia's base in the Fifth City.
Folkvangr.
Allen Fromel, who had provoked Ottar only to be blasted away by his overwhelming strength, and the four Bringar were far from the only ones fighting.
Many other members of Freya Familia surrounded them with weapons drawn.
Most were mid-ranking Level 2 and Level 3 adventurers.
The rest consisted of a smaller number of Level 1 newcomers and long-time veterans like the Bringar.
The enormous grassy field had already been stained red with blood.
Roars and battle cries never stopped.
Unlike Loki Familia, which emphasized the strength of the group, Freya Familia placed far greater importance on individual power.
Brutal infighting like this was practically part of their daily routine.
To obtain the goddess's love, every member was willing to trample over everyone else in the Familia and turn them into nourishment for their own growth.
"Again!"
Even with dozens of wounds across his body still bleeding, Allen showed no intention of stopping.
He spun the bloodstained shaft of his spear and charged once more toward the strongest member of the Familia.
Bang!
Unsurprisingly, the wounded catman flew backward at almost the exact same speed he had charged forward.
"What meaning is there in obsessing over me?"
Only after punching Allen away did Ottar finally speak.
"I am not the one you should be surpassing, you brats."
"Shut up, you damn boar!"
"You're nothing but an experience pack!"
"Sooner or later, we'll crush both you and that guy beneath our feet!"
"Go die!"
Ottar's answer came in the form of a sword, hammer, spear, and axe attacking simultaneously from four directions.
Even the normally stoic warrior could not help releasing a deep sigh.
Ever since losing that War Game, the members of the Familia had become like this.
Aside from eating and sleeping, nearly every moment of their lives was spent fighting him.
No.
More accurately, they had always been this kind of people.
That defeat had simply forced them to recognize just how weak they truly were.
To lessen the humiliation burning inside them, they began fighting day and night without rest.
For Ottar, a man who lived only to pursue endless strength, none of that particularly mattered.
He took the attacks from all four directions directly on his shoulders, reached out, seized the shafts of their weapons, and hurled the four Bringar away together.
Then—
"Vana Arganture."
Ottar growled.
A layer of beast-like fur spread across his body.
The rare skill brought an overwhelming increase in power.
Ottar reached down and pulled the black greatsword buried deep in the ground before him.
As the weapon came free, the entire earth beneath Folkvangr began to shake.
The ringing of steel abruptly stopped.
The Familia members who had been fighting one another farther away all ceased their battles at once and rushed toward him together.
Ottar gripped the enormous black sword and stared at the adventurers whose minds had been consumed by anger.
Then he swept the blade sideways.
A hurricane erupted across the battlefield.
Allen, who had only just climbed back to his feet, the four Bringar who had barely landed, and the Familia members charging behind them were all struck head-on by the violent wind pressure.
It gave them no opportunity to resist.
Every one of them was blown away and piled together in one corner of Folkvangr, forming a small mountain of adventurers.
Only after dealing with the reckless challengers did Ottar finally turn toward the black and white elves who had watched from the sidelines since the battle began.
"Are you two joining them?"
"I am nothing like those failures who can only wallow in self-pity after losing."
Hedin answered coldly.
"If one truly cares for Goddess Freya, then her divine will should take precedence above everything else."
In other words, since the goddess had issued an order, he would let Ottar off for now.
Despite his many grievances toward the goddess's attendant, Hedin still placed Freya's command above all else.
He gave a cold snort, reached beneath his white cloak, and handed Ottar a letter.
"An order?"
"What? Do you need to verify Goddess Freya's handwriting first?"
"No need."
Ottar accepted the letter.
"Thank you for making the trip personally, Hedin."
"I merely refuse to violate the goddess's will."
Hedin frowned at the thanks, then looked toward the small mountain made from unconscious and injured adventurers.
"If I ever get the opportunity, I'll do exactly what those idiots tried to do."
His eyes sharpened.
"I'll drag you down from that position myself, Ottar."
"..."
Ottar ignored the provocation and unfolded the letter.
Compared with the Boaz's enormous hands, the sheet looked almost as small as a bottle cap held by an ordinary person.
The tiny writing forced the man, who stood over two meters tall, to narrow his eyes just to read it.
The sight was absurd enough to be comical.
Neither Hedin nor Hogni laughed.
They quietly waited beside him.
Only after Ottar folded the letter again did Hedin speak.
"Remember."
"Until we find what Goddess Freya wants, do not reveal any openings."
"I'll hold them back."
Ottar made no grand promise.
Yet those simple words were enough for the tension in Hedin's brow to ease.
"There's still some time before the estimated start. If there's anything else you need to prepare, then use this opportunity to—"
"No need."
Being interrupted naturally irritated the proud elf.
But before Hedin could complain, Ottar turned toward the enormous gate connecting Folkvangr with Orario.
His voice dropped.
"They're already here."
As if to prove his words correct, less than a second after he finished speaking—
BOOM!!!
The magnificent gate exploded inward.
Fragments scattered in every direction.
Roaring flames spread rapidly along the towering walls, almost as though they intended to surround everyone inside.
And within the flickering firelight...
A massive black silhouette resembling an enormous bull appeared.
Ishtar's war against Freya Familia had officially begun.
…