Little Garden — Eastern District, Six-Digit Outer Gate. The Perseus Community's stronghold.
As a community that bore the inheritance of the Greek pantheon's heroic bloodline, the architecture here was a testament to Olympian excess and grandeur. Colonnades of white marble gleamed brilliantly under the lamplight.
"That old hag — does she still think she's the Shiroyasha of old?!"
From the head seat, the current community leader, Luaos, slammed the golden cup in his hand down onto the table with a sharp crack. The sound rang out across the empty hall, grating and shrill.
He had just returned from Kanme's branch store, and the expression on his face was dark enough to drip.
His original plan had been to go strut in front of Shiroyasha — to announce that he was going to flatten the former noble grounds of No Name once and for all, cementing Perseus's status as the true dominant community of the Eastern District. And while he was at it, to fish for information about that "spirit tribe" that had lately been causing a stir in the upper tiers, with numerous divine factions posting high-rank bounties for their capture.
But the outcome had left a bone lodged in his throat.
"My lord, Shiroyasha's attitude today was genuinely... unusual," a confidant at his side leaned in, brow furrowed, analyzing the situation.
"In the past, whenever we brought up plans to completely swallow up No Name's remnants, she'd at least put in a few words for that Moon Rabbit's sake — drag her feet, buy them time. But today..."
"She acted like she couldn't have cared less," Luaos cut him off through gritted teeth.
No — that wasn't quite right. It wasn't indifference. It was more like the look you'd give a man who had just announced he was going to walk off a cliff: go ahead, then. The gaze of someone watching garbage throw itself away.
That look — directed at him, a man who considered himself the proud descendant of the legendary hero Perseus — was something he simply could not stomach.
No mockery. No anger. Not even contempt. Just a kind of pitying, faintly amused curiosity, the way one watches a corpse dance.
"It's a bluff. It has to be a bluff!"
Luaos shot to his feet and began pacing restlessly back and forth across the hall.
"No Name doesn't even have a banner anymore. Their water supply is nearly gone. So what if they've scraped together a few summoned otherworlders? They're just slightly bigger cannon fodder than usual."
"Shiroyasha's been lurking in the lower tiers for too long — her brain's gone soft. Does she honestly think some random outsider who fell out of the sky is going to save that pack of deadweights?"
For all his blustering, though, that inexplicable unease coiling in his gut refused to settle. It was the instinct carved into his Gift-soul as a "Hero's Descendant" — and right now, it was sounding an alarm he couldn't silence.
"But the retrieval operation must proceed regardless. That vampire has already been purchased at a high price by an outsider — those resources are vital to us!"
"Sound the order! Open the armory!"
He spun around, a cold, vicious light gleaming in his eyes:
"And bring that thing with us. If this is all just a bluff, then we'll grind No Name into dust — let that old woman Shiroyasha see who truly rules the lower tiers!"
His subordinates stiffened.
"My lord... you mean to deploy the head of Gorgon?"
"Obviously! If Shiroyasha wants to watch a show, we'll put on one she'll never forget!"
Luaos let out a cold snort, swept his hand through the air, and the entire Perseus community lurched into motion like a finely tuned war machine grinding to life in the dark of night.
At the same moment, deep within the most secure vault in the Perseus stronghold —
A pair of heavy bronze doors ground slowly open. A soul-chilling wave of petrification pulsed outward and vanished in an instant.
That was an ultimate Gift capable of troubling even five-digit and four-digit powerhouses — and the very reason why Perseus, a community ranked at only six digits, had managed to carve out such an outsized sphere of influence in Little Garden's lower tiers.
"Move out! Let's see who in all of Little Garden dares stand before Perseus tonight!"
Luaos mounted Pegasus, prepared to lead his elite forces in a charge that would split the very sky.
But the moment he pulled on the reins —
The world went quiet.
Not the quiet of sound disappearing. This was something deeper — a freezing stillness that reached into the soul itself, where even the trembling of one's Gift-soul had gone utterly, completely dead.
"What — Pegasus? Move!"
Luaos stared in horror as the great winged horse beneath him became a marble statue. Even the steam puffing from its nostrils had solidified, suspended motionless in midair.
And that wasn't all. The great, surging divine power of his Gift-soul — the power that could shatter bedrock — had vanished in the span of a single heartbeat. The strength that had once been able to crack stone now struggled to lift a heavy sword.
It felt as though every Gift, every trace of his Gift-soul had been stripped away, and he had been demoted to a common mortal. An overwhelming helplessness and weakness crashed over him like a wave.
"Did Shiroyasha actually come after us herself...?!"
Luaos cried out — but just as quickly, he dismissed the idea.
Even Shiroyasha couldn't do this. Not without triggering Little Garden's central rules governing Gift Games. To strip every single member of a community of their Gifts this brazenly, without so much as touching the established competitive framework — that was simply beyond her.
This feeling was more like —
Hmmmmm——!
A low vibration resonated from the night sky above.
Then, innumerable sheets of parchment came raining down from the darkness — the physical manifestation of Little Garden's rules, the Gift Game challenge documents, fluttering down in a cascade.
Except this time, it was a forced challenge. Whatever entity had issued this had not extended the Perseus community the courtesy of refusal.
Just like those existences who bore the name of Demon Lord.
Luaos's trembling hand reached out and caught one of the parchment sheets as it drifted before his face. The words printed on it made his pupils contract to pinpoints. His heart nearly stopped.
[Gift Game: Farmhand Expansion Plan]
[Participants: All members of the Perseus Community, and Vampire Leticia]
[Host: A Farmer Who Prefers to Remain Anonymous]
[Rules: Having been stripped of all Gift-soul power and Gifts, participants shall face the former Vampire Queen as ordinary mortals, and replicate the great deed of the ancestor Perseus.]
[Victor's Reward: The right to become an employee of the host.]
[Loser's Penalty: Annihilation.]
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