The news of the defeat did not come back from Dragon Valley.
It came on an ordinary day.
Alfia, still confined to her bed, saw the goddess Hera at her side — that old deity who had always carried herself with such formidable dignity — let the apple she had been peeling slip from her hands and fall to the floor.
Her face wore an expression of grief. It was the first time Alfia had ever seen it on her.
"Something has happened to that child."
She was dead.
Mere injuries would not have been enough for a god to sense anything at all.
"That child" was the captain of the Familia — and the highest-leveled adventurer not only in the city, but in all the world.
[The Empress].
Alfia had steeled herself for this. The battle to subjugate the [Black Dragon] was no child's game; anyone could die at any moment. And she knew the woman's character all too well.
If casualties were to come to Hera Familia.
She would be the first.
Because no one could harm another member of the Familia before she fell — if anything, she was even more fiercely protective of her own than the goddess herself was.
And so —
For a good while after that.
Alfia had no idea how long it was — perhaps a few minutes, perhaps far longer — but in any case, the goddess simply sat in silence. Silence, and more silence.
At last, as if pronouncing a verdict, she said it in a voice that barely seemed to carry any weight at all.
"The subjugation has failed."
Everyone was dead.
In an instant the goddess seemed to have aged by some unknowable span of years. She looked as though she were trying to rise from her seat, yet could not support her own body — and in the end, she simply collapsed back into the chair.
Just like Alfia herself had been, back then.
Back then, she had been unable to do anything but lie in bed, no matter what she felt.
What had happened?
Why?
What had it been like?
Countless questions had swirled endlessly through Alfia's mind.
But no matter what, there could never be any answers now.
Because at that time, she herself had been on death's door — it had been impossible, utterly impossible, to ever untangle the cause and course of it all.
Alfia had once thought about going to Dragon Valley to see for herself.
She had said as much to Zard.
But Zard had only said, "Let the past be the past. Besides, what would be the point of going now — we'd only end up dying there."
Death, too, must have meaning.
As that "God of Darkness" had put it — the crushing weight of fate demanded either that you burn yourself away like kindling, becoming the fuel that guided the next generation's growth, or that you live out your days in peace and leave behind some small measure of beautiful memories in life's final chapter.
Either path.
Was better than running off to die pointlessly in the northern wastes.
In the dead of night, the woman jolted awake.
Alfia realized she had been having an extraordinarily long dream — yet its contents were already hazy and unclear.
She looked out the window.
The city beyond the inn was still ablaze with light. The great river flowed on in quiet stillness, and from far away she could just make out the sound of music and dancing drifting over from the pleasure boats.
The city was still beautiful.
And how much of that time remained — perhaps three years?
That incident was drawing near. The seal on [Dragon Valley] would fail, and the Black Dragon, freed from its prison, would destroy the world.
And so.
Was the [Hero] ready?
Alfia had also heard the news — that Loki Familia and Freya Familia were going to challenge Astrea Familia to a War Game.
And so she told herself: once she had watched the War Game, she would go back to her homeland to visit her sister's child —
Babel.
Snow had fallen for several days running in the winter chill, but it could do nothing to dampen the enthusiasm that burned among the gods at this moment.
Under the gaze of many eager eyes.
Goddess Astrea, though still feeling something of a headache, made her way into the conference hall all the same.
It was not her first time here.
After her children leveled up and needed new alias titles bestowed upon them, they would come here at regular intervals for exactly this kind of assembly.
Beyond that.
Over the years, there had always been a degree of conflict between the Familias of the city — particularly among the third- and fourth-tier Familias composed mainly of Lv.2 and Lv.3 adventurers, where War Games were held with some regularity and were quite commonplace.
Orario was the city of adventurers, and strife was only natural within it; the Guild had even adopted something of an encouraging attitude toward the practice.
So long as it did not devolve into the indiscriminate killing and bloodshed of the Dark Familia.
Familia against Familia — competing for each other's members, conflicts arising from all manner of tangled reasons, and countless matters that could not be spoken of openly —
War Games arising from all of this were far from few in number.
And as the Goddess of Justice.
Astrea had no fondness for involving herself in such things, because in most War Games, the victor was simply the stronger side — not "the just side."
It left her feeling deeply displeased.
Perhaps what Isagi had said really was true — that establishing order required possessing power, which was why both the scales and the sword were equally necessary.
Without a sword of judgment capable of cutting down all evil, justice, even when it arrived, would carry no meaning whatsoever.
Turning over such thoughts in her mind.
Astrea composed herself and stepped to the center of the assembly hall.
And across from her, already seated, were the crimson-haired goddess of schemes and the silver-haired goddess of beauty.
Loki and Freya, the rare sight of them side by side in the same frame.
Of course.
The gazes of the assembled gods were still drawn almost entirely to Freya's beauty.
The beauty of the Goddess of Beauty was absolute.
Whether mortal or divine, all beings possessed what could be called an "aesthetic sense" — landscapes, paintings, objects, one's own kind — anyone might encounter something and feel, in that moment, the sensation of "beauty."
And what this goddess represented was precisely that sense of pure beauty itself.
Freya sat there with effortless grace — cool and remote, unapproachably lofty, suffused with all the allure befitting a woman of mature elegance.
In this regard.
She was altogether different from Ishtar and Aphrodite, who were likewise goddesses of beauty.
By comparison, Loki cut a decidedly unremarkable figure — which was simply unavoidable, though perhaps the goddess of schemes enjoyed the feeling of lurking in the shadows. She merely smiled faintly, and even Astrea had no idea what was going through her mind.
"I am Ganesha!"
Presiding over the assembly, as ever, was that muscle-bound god in the elephant mask — hopelessly unreliable as always.
Under Ganesha's boisterous proclamation.
This War Game took on the genuine character of some kind of "festival."
"I hereby declare!"
"The declaration of war by Freya Familia and Loki Familia against Astrea Familia — witnessed here before the gods — is established!"
"The rules of the War Game are —"
The god's lengthy monologue was met with the complete disinterest of every deity in attendance.
Rules and such things.
Were matters already known to all.
Simply put: no killing was permitted, and certain concessions could be made in favor of the "weaker side."
War Games were, broadly speaking, designed to ensure fairness and impartiality in resolving disputes between divine Familias — much like the "duels" of ancient times.
"So then, what form will the game ultimately take?"
For the gods assembled here.
The heart of a War Game lay in the second word — the "game" itself.
This was a festival.
And so, while the purpose was to resolve disputes between Familias through the method of a "duel," the content could not be the same every time — otherwise it would grow tedious.
[Siege Battle].
[Goddess Protection Battle].
[Arena Duel].
[Cage Death Match].
[Wilderness Survival].
...
A rich variety of formats, ensuring no two War Games were ever alike.
Of course.
The selection method was not by vote, but by random draw — which also served to ensure fairness to the greatest extent possible.
And the format chosen for this particular game was —
[Sprint and Skirmish].
____
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