A week earlier, in the Labyrinth City of Orario.
The air inside the Guild Head's office felt stifling, as if an invisible hand were choking the oxygen from the room. A palpable tension radiated from the three elite adventurers standing side by side in front of the giant mahogany desk. Finn Deimne, the captain of the Loki Familia, stood with an upright posture, though his right thumb throbbed faintly—a sign that the situation they were facing had the potential to devolve into a massive-scale disaster. Flanking him, Gareth Landrock, the stalwart dwarf, and Riveria Ljos Alf, the High Elf princess, exuded a similar aura of absolute seriousness.
Across the desk, Royman Mardeel, the Guild Head, continuously dabbed the cold sweat pouring down his wrinkled forehead with a silk handkerchief.
"I understand your anger, I truly do," Royman said in a placating tone, though his voice trembled slightly. "The reports regarding the mass abductions specifically targeting the Elven, Dwarven, and Pallum races in the outer territories are indeed an outrageous provocation against Orario. However, deploying the entire Loki Familia armada along with Goddess Loki to the Kaios Desert is a violation of jurisdiction! If a leading deity from Orario's strongest familia descends upon outer monarchies like Warusa or Shalzard with a full army, it is tantamount to a declaration of war between nations!"
"In that case, let just us executives go," Finn interrupted, his voice calm yet carrying an indisputable firmness. His blue eyes stared straight at Royman. "Loki will remain in Orario. This is our absolute compromise, Royman. We cannot allow our brethren to be turned into slaves or test subjects out there."
Royman let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair with an exhausted expression. "Very well. The Guild will grant special operational clearance for the three of you. Besides, you are not the only ones making a move today."
Riveria's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Ottar has already departed," Royman answered, causing an instant silence to drape over the room. "The moment Freya received the provocation regarding an extreme battlefield in Kaios that could push her adventurer to break past the limits of Level 6, she immediately unleashed her hound. Ottar tore through the city gates like a storm before the sun even rose, purely to hunt down the strength his goddess desires."
Gareth snorted softly, crossing his burly arms. "That boar is moving alone? Typical."
"More than that," Royman continued, his eyes now flashing with sharp suspicion. "Something is wrong in the Kaios Desert. As you know, after the Barbatos Familia resolved the Leviathan remnant issue in Melen involving Altena a while ago, Venti and his four Elves headed straight for Kaios to investigate the anomaly of the Behemoth's remains. Yet, the sudden emergence of these selective slave abductions is happening in the exact same territory as their investigation area. I suspect the root of the anomalies hindering the Kaios Desert is closely tied to these slaves. I will demand a direct explanation from the Barbatos Familia as soon as they return."
Royman leaned forward. "However, up to this very second, no report has come back from them. Everything is moving too fast. The spread of the abduction rumors, the anomalous blockades in the desert, down to the presence of the Barbatos Familia there... I will demand answers directly from God Barbatos when he returns. But for now, Finn, I am counting on you to stabilize the situation before Ottar's unilateral actions trigger a massive war out in the outer territories."
Finn nodded firmly. "Understood. We will depart immediately."
Wasting not a single second, the three Level 5 elites of the Loki Familia turned on their heels and hurried out of the Guild headquarters. Their journey toward the outer territories, breaking through the city gates, had begun.
The sun beat down with blistering heat as they cleaved through the barren expanse of the Kaios Desert. The dry wind, carrying sharp grains of sand, continuously battered their faces, yet neither Finn, Gareth, nor Riveria slowed their pace in the slightest. As elite Level 5 adventurers, their bodies moved constantly like arrows shooting through the sandstorm.
Amidst that grueling journey, thick dust billowed in the distance. A very familiar, massive silhouette stood tall near a small, dried-up oasis. The giant figure of the Boaz race, with a massive black greatsword slung across his back, watched their approach with a flat gaze devoid of any emotion.
It was Ottar, the Level 6 adventurer currently standing at the absolute pinnacle of Orario's power hierarchy.
Finn raised his hand, signaling Gareth and Riveria to slow their pace. He stepped closer to Ottar, maintaining a safe distance while still demonstrating peaceful intentions.
"I didn't expect to see the pinnacle of the Freya Familia's strength standing still in the middle of the desert," Finn greeted, attempting to open a tactical dialogue.
Ottar snorted softly. His voice sounded deep and heavy. "I was merely catching my breath. Stamina is everything in this place. But our destination is the same, Braver."
"Warusa," Finn stated, naming the military capital where the slaves were held according to Guild intelligence. "If our goal is the same, breaching the enemy headquarters together will be far more efficient. We can save our Familias' animosity for later, back in Orario."
Ottar didn't refuse, but he didn't give verbal consent either. He simply turned around and dashed forward again, tearing through the sand. To Ottar, alliances or teamwork were irrelevant. The only thing occupying his mind was the absolute will of his goddess. If the presence of the Loki Familia forces could pave a faster path to fulfilling Freya's desires, he had no objections.
Their journey continued in tense silence. Three Level 5 executives and one Level 6 pillar moved like a storm racing toward the heart of Warusa.
However, when the defensive walls of Warusa finally appeared on the horizon the next day, the throbbing in Finn's thumb intensified. His danger instincts were screaming, not because of a threat, but due to an absolute anomaly.
When the four of them breached the gates of the military city, no warning trumpets sounded. There was no rain of arrows from the watchtowers. No sea of cavalry forces stood in their way.
Warusa was completely empty.
The city that was supposed to be the nest of the kidnappers' military faction felt like a giant graveyard. The desert wind blew dust through the wide-open military barracks. The iron cages lining the street corners were smashed to pieces, doors ripped from their hinges, and not a single slave was in sight.
"What the hell is this?" Gareth growled, his eyes sweeping the surroundings with heightened vigilance. His axe was already in his grip, but there were no targets to cleave. "Did they move the slaves? Or is this a tactic to lure us into an ambush?"
Riveria closed her eyes, channeling waves of Mind into the surrounding air. After a few seconds, the High Elf opened her eyes and shook her head slowly. "There are no traces of magic traps or a hidden ambush. This place is truly abandoned. There are only a few extremely weak auras left in the remains of the main buildings."
Ottar stepped heavily toward a building that appeared to have once served as an outer guard post. His giant hand immediately thrust inside, tearing through a messy pile of logistics crates, before grabbing the collar of a straggling Warusa soldier cowering in fear in a dark corner of the room.
"Where are they?" Ottar asked, his voice as cold as newly forged steel.
The soldier trembled violently, his eyes wide with horror at the Boaz giant choking him. "G-Gazoob! They all went to the Gazoob Desert! S-Sir Zald who was guarding this place left... and he took the slaves with him!"
Finn, listening from behind, instantly perked up. "Zald? You mean Zald of the Zeus Familia? And where did everyone else in this city go?"
"W-War!" the soldier babbled, his face deathly pale. "Shalzard... The Shalzard Kingdom declared war! Our entire main military force, along with the gods leading them, marched to the Gazoob Desert to slaughter them! B-But... a few hours ago, a military courier from the frontlines returned trembling... there were no survivors! Shalzard won! Our army was wiped out!"
Finn exchanged a look with Riveria. This anomaly had far surpassed the bounds of military logic. How could a conservative oasis country like Shalzard decimate hundreds of thousands of Warusa troops in such a short amount of time? And most importantly, what did Zald the Gluttony have to do with all of this?
"Let him go, Ottar," Finn said, his face now hardened with tactical resolve. "The answers we seek aren't in this empty base. Their center of power is all in Gazoob."
Ottar dropped the soldier to the ground, then swiftly dashed off through the desert dust without uttering a single word. Finn, Gareth, and Riveria immediately followed close behind at full speed. They left the silent Warusa barracks, pushing their physical limits toward the northeastern border where the cliffs of Gazoob awaited.
The wind in the Gazoob Desert felt different. The air here still bore the faint scent of scorched ozone and dried blood—the remnants of an epic massacre that had recently taken place.
When the group of Orario adventurers arrived at the rocky cliff borders acting as the gateway to the Shalzard territory, they were forced to halt their sprint. In the middle of the narrow pass flanked by sandy cliffs, a living wall awaited them.
Finn held his breath. The throbbing in his thumb ceased instantly, replaced by a cold chill creeping up his spine.
Sitting casually atop a barren, rocky boulder was a giant figure who had once stood at the pinnacle of Orario's golden era. Zald the Gluttony. The former Zeus Familia executive exuded an aura of pressure so dense it made the surrounding air feel several times heavier. This was the absolute presence of a Level 7.
However, what pushed Finn's vigilance to its absolute peak wasn't Zald alone. Right behind the legendary veteran stood four Elven figures from the Barbatos Familia, radiating an intensity of Mind that was completely abnormal. A bespectacled White Elf with an aristocratic posture, a Dark Elf with a suffocating, bloodthirsty aura, alongside Dina the White Elf and Vena the Dark Elf—two elven sisters standing with calm demeanors yet hiding ripples of explosive energy ready to erupt around them.
Finn did not know them, but his instincts immediately concluded one thing: these four Elves were not amateur adventurers. They were anomalous fighters possessing a caliber of strength beyond normal limits.
"Zald," Ottar stepped forward, his black greatsword already drawn from its scabbard. The Boaz's eyes stared straight at the Zeus Familia veteran without an ounce of fear. "Where are the slaves?"
Zald looked up, gazing at the group from Orario with an inscrutable look. A faint smile—not one of condescension, but the smile of a warrior who had found a worthy challenge—etched itself onto his face.
"Lower your weapon, boy," Zald said, his heavy, resonant voice cutting through the roar of the desert wind. The giant slowly rose from his seat, drawing his pitch-black greatsword—Grattor—which began to emit a blazing red glow due to the overflow of Rea Ambrosia magic from his back. "You are late. Or perhaps, right on time. The slaves of your races are not here. They have already been rescued and are currently under the absolute protection of the Shalzard Kingdom. They are safe, fed, and will be sent home shortly."
That statement made Riveria and Gareth slightly ease the tension in their shoulders, though their weapons remained at the ready. Their mission, technically, had been accomplished without them needing to spill any blood.
Finn glared sharply at Zald. "If they are safe, then why are you blocking our path, Sir Zald? The reports we heard stated that the enemy's main military forces brought their entire might here, yet only you and these four Elves stand before us."
Zald drove the tip of his greatsword into the sand, resting both his hands on its pommel. His eyes glared piercingly at Ottar and Finn in turn.
"That greedy army has been dealt with. The desert flies that tried to block our path were wiped clean without a trace," Zald answered, his voice sounding so heavy and laden with chest-crushing pressure. "However, that doesn't mean you can just turn around and go home."
Zald lifted his chin, radiating the absolute authority of an adventurer who had once stood at the very pinnacle of Orario.
"Since the Zeus and Hera Familias were destroyed, Orario has lost its fangs," Zald provoked, his tone condescending yet heavy with a test. "I look at you, the new generation hailed as pillars of hope. You feel proud merely by reaching Level 5 or Level 6, content with conquering the middle floors of the labyrinth. Do you truly wish to become stronger, or are you just a bunch of cowards trembling when faced with the wall of death?"
The wind blew fiercely, carrying Zald's challenge straight into the hearts of the Orario adventurers.
"You have two choices," Zald continued, spreading his arms. "Turn back now. Return to Orario like belated heroes relieved that your mission was completed by someone else. Or... step forward onto this Gazoob expanse. Fight me in a battle royale. Test your absolute limits against me, and prove whether you are truly worthy of inheriting this era, or if you will just end up broken by my hands."
A tense silence blanketed the cliffs of Gazoob. This was an insane proposition. Facing a Level 7 monster head-on in an open field was an act of mass suicide that would only lead to absolute death.
However, Ottar was the first to move.
The Boaz didn't hesitate for a second. He raised his black greatsword, letting his Level 6 aura explode outward, pushing back against Zald's presence.
To Ottar, Level 6 was not enough. The summit was still too far away. Memories of his past flashed by—a dying, starving, nameless orphan of the Boaz race on the cold, slum streets of Orario. Freya was the only entity who found him, giving him warmth, food, and a name: "Ottar".
Since that day, Freya was the center of his universe. If he wanted to fulfill all of the goddess's desires, if he wanted to protect her from every threat in this world, he had to become an absolute power. Avoiding a fight against Zald was tantamount to betraying his own dedication. He had to climb higher, and Zald was the giant stepping stone he had to tread upon.
"I accept," Ottar stated, his voice deep and absolute. "I will break through your wall, Zald."
Zald grinned savagely, his warrior's blood boiling at the sight of the resolve in Ottar's eyes. "Good! That is the look of someone hungry for power."
Zald then turned his attention to Finn. "What about you, Captain of the Loki Familia? Are you going to hide behind the back of this Boaz giant?"
Finn closed his eyes for a moment. His hands tightly gripped his grand spear.
For Finn, the burden he carried was far greater than mere personal ambition. He fought for the Pallum race. For centuries, Pallums were considered a weak, cowardly race, forever oppressed by larger races. Finn had sworn to shatter that stigma. He wanted to be the Light of the Pallums, a symbol of hope that would embolden every Pallum child in the world to hold their heads high with pride.
However, he was acutely aware that he, Gareth, and Riveria were currently still stuck at Level 5. If he backed down from Zald's challenge today, he would never be fit to lead in the future.
Finn opened his eyes. His blue eyes radiated an impenetrable resolve. He stepped forward, standing side-by-side with Ottar.
"I will never run," Finn declared loudly. "We will use this Gazoob desert as a stepping stone to reach the next level."
Hearing their captain's decision, Gareth roared with laughter and hefted his massive axe. "Hahaha! Risking our lives against the strongest adventurer from Orario's old era? Now this is a challenge worthy of our name!"
Riveria merely let out a resigned sigh, though her magic staff was already glowing with a soothing green light. "You are all truly men who cannot hold yourselves back. Very well, I will make sure you don't die today."
Zald laughed with satisfaction, his laughter echoing like thunder amidst the sandstorm. "Perfect! This is what I was waiting for! Let us turn this Gazoob Desert into our battlefield!"
Finn glared sharply at the four Elves who had been standing silently behind Zald all this time. He couldn't ignore the threat radiating from them.
"One question, Zald," Finn said, his tone demanding tactical certainty. "Who are those four Elves behind you? Are they going to join this battle royale on your side? Facing you alone is already skirting the brink of death, let alone fighting them as well."
The grin on Zald's face grew wider. The giant glanced over his shoulder, looking at Hedin, Hogni, Dina, and Vena, who were now beginning to channel their elemental energies.
"Them?" Zald scoffed in amusement. "Do not underestimate them, Braver. They are not my subordinates. And they will not be fighting on my side."
Zald raised his sword, pointing it directly at the faces of Finn and Ottar.
"These four Elves have their own business with me out of curiosity, and you came to open the path," Zald declared, his voice laden with an absolute challenge. "So, prepare yourselves. Eight against one. Show me if your combined strength is capable of tearing down the giant wall that once ruled the pinnacle of Orario!"
No more words were spoken after that.
Finn, Gareth, Riveria, and Ottar immediately took their combat stances. On the other side, Dina and Vena began utilizing their Anemo-Calyx, which emitted the roar of clear winds, instantly contrasted by the surge of Hedin's Fulgur-Calyx unleashing purple lightning strikes, and the Cruor Calyx unleashing pitch-black pyro-darkness flames from Hogni's side. Like a fusion of nature's blessing and an overflowing desire for destruction, the ripples of their magic distorted the arid desert air.
Zald tightened his grip on the hilt of Grattor.
The pitch-black greatsword suddenly pulsed, emitting a blazing red glow from the overflow of the Rea Ambrosia magic that melted the air around him. Simultaneously, the pressure of a Level 7 exploded mercilessly, shaking the entirety of the Gazoob cliffs and marking the beginning of the grand clash that would test the limits of their levels.
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