Chapter 21

Orario, Arena District Judith “I don’t want to pry, but as your teacher I have to ask, are you alright with what happened?” Raul asked as

Chapter 21

Orario, Arena District

Judith

“I don’t want to pry, but as your teacher I have to ask, are you alright with what happened?” Raul asked as quietly as he could manage while still being audible over the crowd pressing around them.

“I’m fine.” She said, wincing as her words came out too gruffly. Trying to hide her feelings was almost always a lost cause, especially when her mind was on other shit. Like not embarrassing the familia as they ‘showed the flag’, marching behind their Goddess to the arena.

“You weren’t at fault back there Judith, no one could have seen this coming.” He pushed, louder this time as the dull roar of an excited crowd grew the closer they got to their destination. 

“I said I’m fine.” She insisted, feeling a little bad as her mentor was one to wince this time. He’d confided some shit in her, about the kinds of things he’d seen as one of their familia’s elites. She didn’t even want to think about how many dead people’s faces he saw in her actions, or fuck, in everyone’s.

But that didn’t mean he was right.

“You’re clearly not though.” He spoke up, a certain earnest conviction entering his expression, like he was pleading with her to accept his help.

“I’m not upset about failing to answer some questions, Raul.” She cut back. For as earnest as he was, he didn’t have a clue. She wasn’t mad that she couldn’t see a meeting coming, she was mad at herself for being in that situation in the first place.

What kind of a person can’t answer a few basic questions about their friend?

What kind of a person ignores their friend out of petty fucking jealousy for weeks?

…And why was it that only after being dragged into a meeting with her familia’s top dogs and asked questions about him that she even started asking these questions herself?

“Judith…” He trailed off, but she just shook her head, refocusing on putting on her game face as their little group entered the arena proper. Thankfully Raul dropped it as the cavernous hall fell silent at their entrance, heads snapping around to stare as half the leadership of the Loki familia strode through.

Admiration and awe filled the crowd as their Captain and Goddess played to the attention in their own ways. While the rest of their group either stoically ignored it, or in the case of Werewolf who’d spent the morning sneering at her, scowled at everyone. Which… was at least comforting to know that she wasn’t the only one who got the short end of that shitty stick.

Bypassing the betting areas and the ticket takers by virtue of no one daring to stop them, they ascended into the stadium, the sound of the crowd becoming almost obnoxiously loud to her enhanced ears.

“-Annnd The Flaming Fist is on the ropes!” The title called by the announcer struck a chord with her; she’d seen him fight before. Big dude with lots of muscle and one mean right hook, she’d seen him break steel with his bare hands before. “Not even this seasoned veteran of the arena can make our intrepid defender draw his sword!”

What?

“Oi Finn, what’s that about?” Her Goddess called out, a complicated expression appearing on her face.

“Ah, that.” Despite her Captain’s loud tone and his back being turned to her, she could still make out his sheer intrigue. “Apparently our young friend has been putting on something of a show…” The crowd’s roar punctuated his words, as they climbed the last steps and emerged onto the arena stands, the hot afternoon sun blinding her momentarily.

“And ya didn’t think to tell me this?” Loki retorted weakly. As Judith’s eyes adjusted, she found her Goddess staring at the arena floor with undisguised interest, hell half the upper crust of her familia was and it really wasn’t hard to see why.

“We were understandably more concerned with the leveling up in a month side of things.” Finn chuckled. “But it is quite a sight.”

And it was. Elric was facing off against one of the meanest fuckers she’d ever seen, with an aura about him that even from this distance set her on edge. And even as she watched, Flaming Fist blurred about the arena, his form flowing through strike after strike that seemed to shake the very air, heat roiling off his form… and blood.

Dozens of cuts littered his form and more were added with each exchange as her friend stepped around the juggernaut, what looked like a carving knife in his hands as he systematically tore the brute to shreds.

The strangest part? Elric’s form was crystal clear to her eyes, he didn’t blur with the same level two speed as his opponent. Which meant he was holding back and still somehow outclassing his opponent like this.

It was… beautiful and completely unlike any fight she’d ever seen.

Instead of a desperate scrap to the end as two people threw everything at each other in a bid to come out on top, it was like Elric was performing for the crowd. Like he was showing off in a simple and pure expression of skill.

And for a moment that sour feeling crept up her throat again, jealousy gnawing at her once more, stronger than ever as her friend showcased weeks of that same crazy development speed. It took effort to push it down, to ignore the whispers that she wasn’t good enough.

But she’d slipped up once and if she had anything to be ashamed of, it was that.

“Oi…” A growling voice cut through her self reflection, and upon turning around she found yellow eyes boring into her. Bete Loga was glaring at her with that same bestial anger she’d seen far too much of already. “You said that fucker down there was some milk drinker a month ago!?”

Hackles raising, she went to retort but-

“He was.” Raul’s voice cut in as he stepped between her and the level five, thankfully before she could say something she maybe would have regretted to one of the leaders of her familia. “I saw it as well.”

“Then ya saw wrong.” The Werewolf growled, prowling closer as Raul stiffened in front of her. “You don’t get this strong in a month. It ain’t possible.”

“His records say otherwise.” The Elven Princess cut in, Riveria’s disapproving green eyes cutting into the level five.

“Tch, he coulda faked them.” He retorted, but without the same level of heat.

“I have someone looking into that.” Their Captain admitted, but his gaze was still firmly on the arena floor. “But it doesn’t seem likely. The amount of attention he’s attracting doing this isn’t something you’d take intentionally.”

“And what, this shit is more likely!?”

Finn looked back, an intensely interested smile on his face and a gleam in his eye that frankly scared her. “It seems so.”

Before Bete could respond, the announcer cut him off as a sudden hush fell over the arena. “AND THERE IT IS! The Flaming Falcon Punch!”

Magic roared to life in time with the announcement, screaming into being with its wielder. The seven foot man twisted his frame into a near textbook punch that practically oozed power, flames exploding out from his fist as it bore down on Elric like the fist of an angry god.

Her friend wasn’t even phased as he twisted around the blow, stepping into the man’s guard with an insultingly casual thrust. And as the flames exploded behind him, his dagger came to a stop at his opponent’s neck.

Everything stopped, just for a moment, and then the crowd went wild.

The cheers were deafeningly loud, something that was normally impossible for one of these smaller tournaments, but something or more likely someone had gotten them riled up today.

“I AM NOT GANESHA! He’s done it! Our titleless rookie has broken the record again!” The announcer screamed out, more energetic than she’d ever heard him. “Thirty four consecutive wins! Can anyone end this man’s reign?” The crowd absolutely gobbled it up, the cheering picking up again as Elric raised his knife to the sky, armour gleaming in the sun.

The sight was hard to not get jealous over but despite that she was happy for him; she didn’t know what her friend was trying to accomplish here, but whatever his goal was he was clearly succeeding.

…And if she weren’t here on business, she'd be right there with the crowd, cheering for him.

“That rat bastard.” Her Goddess spoke up with a played up tone of horrified realisation as the cheers died down and the wait began for the next fight. Elric taking up his position as his opponent walked out stiffly, throwing glares all the while.

“You realised it then?” Finn asked, humour evident in his tone.

“Realised it my perfect ass!” Loki hissed. “I thought you said he didn’t know what he was doing!?”

“In my defence, I don’t think anyone would suspect a level one from an unknown familia to be capable of swaying public support to any meaningful degree.” Finn answered.

“Yeah well, just look at him; he’s fucking shining!” Loki retorted angrily as the afternoon sun glinted off of Elric’s armour. “That was supposed to be a joke!”

“Hah? What joke.” Bete demanded, and for once she felt thankful for the werewolf’s presence, his bluntness hopefully giving her that bit of context she needed.

Loki looked over and winced, prompting Finn to take up the conversation. “Part of the deal we made with that man for his potions was us owing him a few light favours, one of them was Loki-sama’s support for his title. She’s been thinking long and hard about it since.” He japed.

“Like I’d think about the guy that much!” She grumbled back. “Besides, it was perfect! The brat wanted to be called something that badly, so I thought of a title the others would actually accept. But now that’s ruined. Look at him! If we started calling him the ‘Shining Sword Saint’ now, people’d think we were actually being serious!”

“Sword Saint…?” The previously silent member of their group, Ais Wallenstein, suddenly cut in. The Sword Princess had been staring intently at the arena this entire time, a strangely engaged expression on her normally pretty hard to read face, but now her eyes were locked on their Goddess with an intense gleam.

And honestly? Judith couldn’t blame her idol, Sword Saint was one hell of a title to be given to a new adventurer. It was normally only given to some of the strongest swordsmen in history, the most skilled, the most heroic.

The strange part was that she could actually see it. Elric’s raw skill in combat had improved in ways that just shouldn’t be possible in the time they’d been apart. And that talent was reflected wholly in the way she’d watched him casually dismantle another veteran of the arena.

Sword Saint though…

Finn hummed in agreement. “He seemed quite interested in the title, and if he’s more talented with a sword than a knife, then I could certainly see why.”

To her that wasn’t even a question, she’d seen Elric use both before, if the difference was still just as stark then…

“I don’t want to interrupt, but I feel like we skipped something there… What was that whole thing about public support?” Raul took the opportunity to ask the other question that had been on Judith’s mind.

“Ah that, Captain Carne expressed an interest in managing his public perception when we met him at Loki-sama’s favourite establishment.” Finn explained. “I admit that I dismissed him out of hand, but given all this… I find it hard to doubt his efficacy.”

“So he just wants to show off then? I could have told you that from the first time we met him and his poncy armour.” Bete snorted dismissively.

Finn shook his head. “He holds the title of the fastest leveler in history. Even when Ais took the title there were detractors despite our fame.” Ais frowned minutely at that, before her eyes turned back to where Elric was waiting for his next opponent. “For a no-name familia like this to come out of nowhere and beat the record this severely? It’s a slap in the face to everyone who has ever struggled to level up.”

The fact that that included damn near every adventurer went unsaid.

“This?” Their Captain went on, gesturing towards the center of the arena. “This seems to be his answer to that. He’s challenging everyone that wants a piece of him to a fight while showing off. He’s trying to tell everyone here that it wasn’t luck or trickery that brought him this far.”

“Do you think it’s working Captain?” Raul asked, as Bete growled in annoyance.

Finn gazed around at the packed seating and engaged crowd. “Almost certainly.”

“Great, fantastic, fuckin’ wonderful. Dochibi gets one kid and he goes straight to the fucking moon… Gah!” Judith’s Goddess exclaimed in frustration before rounding on her Captain. “And why're you looking so happy about this Finn!? That's our record he's shittin’ on!”

“Records are meant to be broken, and considering it’s being broken by someone we have a pre-existing relationship with and a way to expand that relationship?” Finn smiled with a certain sharpness that made Judith uncomfortable. It reminded her far too much of the more… tricky people she met on the streets. They were always the hardest to deal with. “I’d say his success could very easily be a boon to us.” Before he added cheekily: “I also just find it fascinating, don’t you?”

Loki grunted, her expression shifting rapidly as she wrestled with herself in an overdone act, before finally sighing bonelessly. “Fine, yes! I do, but that just makes it worse; Dochibi’s been in the game for all of two seconds and she finds someone like this!?” She gestured angrily down at the arena floor. “That just isn’t fair!”

“Loki-sama… you’re pouting.” Finn smiled.

“I’ll pout if I want to pout ya smirkin’ bastar-”

“I AM NOT GANESHA!” The announcer suddenly screamed with excitement. “I’m getting word that we have a special entry here today; a name you’ll all recognise!”

The crowd grew louder at the announcement, a sort of eager energy overcoming the stadium and even her superiors as their attention snapped back to the arena floor.

“Our next challenger is a former champion of the Ganesha Grand Tournament, the scourge of every level two bracket: The Grand Blade of Illium!” The crowd went wild at the announcement, stamping their feet and cheering as the gate slowly rolled open and a man she’d seen fight far too many times walked into the arena.

He didn’t wave or play to the crowd. The stoic, armoured figure who had fought in almost every major tournament she’d seen since she was old enough to sneak into the arena simply walked in, his sheer presence enough to set the crowd alight. And if she was being honest, it was enough to make her swell with anticipation too.

He was part of the reason she picked up the sword after all. The first weapon she’d tried to pick up in training was a buster sword like his. Yeah she got laughed at for failing to even drag it off the ground, but the spirit was there.

She had wanted to become strong like him, and damn if the man didn’t feel just as strong as he did when she first saw him.

“What's this!? It seems not even our unshakable rookie can afford to not take this Champion seriously!” The announcer called as her friend dropped his knife, a choice she really couldn’t blame him for. However strong Elric had gotten in the last weeks, the Blade of Illium had been nigh unbeatable at their level for years now. ”Elric Carne has been forced to draw his sword for the first time today!”

“There’s something off about that sword.” Riveria called out immediately, gaze locked on the long dark blade in her friend’s hands. “There’s some kind of magic to it.”

“Magic sword or enchanted?” Finn asked seriously.

“Feels more like the latter and it certainly doesn’t look or seem like crystal, hidden or otherwise, but I don’t…” The High Elf trailed off. To be perfectly honest something about it did strike her as weird, but whether that was the fact that it was made in a style she’d never seen Elric use or something else, she couldn’t say.

It felt dangerous though.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! For our thirty-fifth challenge of the round, I give you Elric Carne vs The Grand Blade of Illium!” The commentator roared as the two fighters took their stances. The Champion took the stance she knew all too well, low and heavy like the rising earth, a stance he always took in these matches.

What was strange though was Elric’s stance.

His was obvious and high, like he intended to clash directly with his opponent; an opponent who was known for his strength and ridiculously heavy opening slash. She didn’t know what he was playing at, but one handing a sword in a clash like this could only end one way, especially given what should be a major difference in stats.

The referee did the last checks with the fighters as the crowd settled into an almost baited silence, one only shattered as the ref gave the signal and the announcer roared: “BEGIN!”

The first move was fast, far faster than she’d seen Elric move before an absolutely titanic clash of steel rang out, shaking the arena slightly and kicking up a massive cloud of dust. But contrary to all her expectations, the Grand Blade was the one who was pushed back. His iconic sword slamming into the ground as Elric’s own changed directions like a whip, seeking the Champion’s neck.

Elric’s opponent moved faster than she could perceive, dragging himself and his sword out of the dust cloud and bringing it back around. Just in time too as Elric exploded out of the dust cloud after him, his form a blur as he leapt up and stabbed down with enough force to tear at the air itself.

The Champion tried to meet his thrust but that same incredible force was still there, sending him skidding back with gritted teeth and a fresh rend in his sword. In a move she’d never seen from the Blade, he poured on the speed, trying to retake the tempo of the fight by abusing the speed difference between him and her freshly leveled friend.

The tempo was stolen back almost instantly, the Champion’s rising cut into a blindspot countered with a scraping, one-handed blow that set her teeth on edge and the Champion staggering. And again Elric’s sword seemed to almost dance with a mind of its own as it rebounded, this time drawing first blood as it cut into the Grand Blade’s side.

They met again and again to the same result, each air rending blow only serving to hammer home one point: her friend was stronger than her childhood idol.

A fact that she had no idea what to do with.

“He’s avoiding locking blades.” Finn noted over the raptured silence of the crowd, breaking the spell over their group.

“What?” She found herself uttering without meaning to, surprise getting the better of her.

“Captain Carne, he’s avoiding locking blades with his opponent.” Her own Captain explained again. “Combined with how he’s fighting, I’d say we’re looking at some form of impact manipulation… or maybe momentum modification? I assume it’s focused on the sword alone?”

“It is.” Riveria confirmed. “It’s faint, but I can feel him drawing mind to it just before they clash.”

Finn hummed. “I’m guessing an enchanted blade then?”

“No. He's maintaining the preparation stage of a spell and firing it off wordlessly over and over again.” Riveria uttered, seemingly entranced as Elric’s sword slammed down with crushing force, kicking up another dust cloud. ”I've never seen magic like this before.”

“A rapid cast with low mind cost?” Finn took up the speculation, chewing on his thumb. “No, that wouldn’t explain the faint traces on his sword before the fight.” He furrowed his brow, staring down at the arena. “Where the handle meets the crossguard, do you see it?”

“...A magic circle?” Riveria muttered. “He’s a mage?”

“He didn’t even have magic when we saw him last.” Raul uttered as Elric scored another blow on his opponent, cutting straight through his chest plate to score a line across the man’s chest. The blow shifted the dynamic again, putting the Champion firmly on the backfoot as Elric chased him across the arena relentlessly. “How do you get the Mage DA in three weeks?”

“You’d have to do something crazy.” Loki spoke up, seriously for once. The tone was so surprising that it even ripped Judith’s enraptured attention away from the fight. “A magical feat that even we would acknowledge… how did Dochibi of all people find this fucker…?”

“It’s mass manipulation.” Riveria’s non-sequitur cut through the silence left in the wake of Loki’s utterance. “He’s changing the mass of his blade once it’s already picked up speed for just long enough to massively amplify impacts.”

“That does explain why he’s attacking from above if he can.” Finn nodded. “He’s taking advantage of that extra weight… I’d normally say that would be easy to take advantage of, but Carne’s skill with the sword is covering the weaknesses. He’s handling change ups and his opponent’s aggression just as easily as he handles clashes on his own terms. What a terrifying combination.”

“…He’s playing with his opponent.” Ais’ voice added softly, eyes still fixed to the field as Elric began to shepherd his opponent into a corner. “He hasn’t drawn his offhand weapon.”

Her idol’s words struck a chord deep within Judith, finally hammering in the point as she numbly watched her childhood inspiration be torn down by her friend. She had thought the Blade was beyond strength, that he was unbeatable as a kid. Sure time had taught her the stark difference that levels and stats bring, it was why she had begun to idolise Ais Wallenstein, the fastest leveler who routinely punched over her level class.

Someone who seemed to desperately chase strength more than Judith herself did.

This… this was the same. Elric’s sheer skill and talent was enabling him to punch almost above his level class and he was doing so casually. She still remembered how much stronger he seemed with two swords in his hands, what would this fight look like if he was actually taking this seriously…?

It was a heady feeling, slotting a friend she’d fought alongside into the same kind of distinction she’d reserved for the true heavy hitters of her familia, one of the strongest familias in Orario at that.

It… It felt significant, beyond the obvious, but she had no idea why.

Finn hummed as Elric finally pinned down his opponent, batting them into the side of the arena, with a slash that almost split the Champion’s sword in two. “Level three combat potential seems likely then, if what Raul and Judith said was right.”

And as if to prove her Captain’s words right, Elric blurred into a devastating thrust, throwing his entire body behind the blow as her childhood idol desperately drew up his iconic -now ravaged- sword to ward it off.

Elric’s sword struck true however, the incredibly weighty blow tearing through the weakest part of the ruined buster sword and slamming home into the arena’s wall with enough force to shake the stands.

Barely a hair’s width away from his opponent’s neck.

And then there was just silence, the entire crowd who’d been watching enraptured the entire time just didn’t seem to know what to do. The very idea of a rookie who hadn’t even received his title yet winning against an Arena champion so decisively must have been so out of context for them that they didn’t know what to do. Even the commentator was silent as the dust settled.

Hell, even Judith was stunned and she had the commentary from her familia to drag her attention.

“I…!” The commentator’s voice crackled to life, shock colouring its tone, before excitement seemed to fill him. “I AM NOT GANESHA!” He roared, almost triumphantly and as if responding to his enthusiasm, the crowd roared with him. “He’s done it! He’s defeated the Champion!”

The roars went on, but Judith only had eyes for the arena floor as Elric stepped out of the shadow of the stands to raise his sword into the afternoon sun, his untouched armour still gleaming as the crowd returned his attention with thunderous cheers.

“Level three… the bastard only just leveled up today.” Bete growled loudly over the applause, his grip cracking into the stone of the arena wall as he leered down at her friend.

“His strength does seem implausible, but then so does his leveling speed.” Her Captain spoke up. “And I think that’s the bigger issue here.”

“I think we can guess at least part of that puzzle…” Riveria chimed in with a grimace, and a sideways glance at where Ais was also fixated on the scene below.

Loki winced, opening one eye to stare down at the to-be-named Sword Saint. “The brat’s aura… it’s clingin’ to him like burnin’ steel; he’s addicted to fighting to say the least.”

Finn looked incredibly interested at the mention. “I didn’t pick up a whiff of it in our conversations, his self control must be…” He shook his head. “There’s definitely more to it than just that, but just what that is I can’t really guess. The only thing that would make sense would be a skill that boosts Excelia growth, but such a thing is impossible.”

“The Falna contains secrets that not even Zeus’ boys understood.” Her Goddess said seriously. “Nothing is impossible and this brat could be doing damn near anything. We just don’t know… And if we’re not careful, he might just end up upsetting the balance of power in Orario.”

Finn shook his head, a confident smirk taking his face. “He’ll run headlong into the issues that every other adventurer faces when going deeper; travel time and the considerations of his party will stunt his growth.” He said confidently, but their Goddess looked far from convinced, something that shook even Finn’s seemingly unending confidence for the first time.

“I hate talkin’ like this Finn, so just listen. You’re gettin’ too confident again.” She said simply, directly in a way Judith had never heard her Goddess speak. And from the way the rest of the upper crust of her familia straightened up, it was probably rare for them as well, and serious.

“Ah…” Finn winced, seemingly taking the comment to heart. “I’ll try to remedy that. Any other suggestions you feel like offering while you’re in such a rare mood?”

Their Goddess shot him a look before sighing.

“I’d rather whine about him some more but fine. Pay Dochibi’s brat more before he comes back to demand more, or just cuts us off entirely.” She said, her open eyes staring down at the subject of their conversation. “His time’s getting more valuable, so we need to make that connection worth it.”

“The potions? We’ve noticed that they’re increasing in quality.” Riveria chimed in, to which their Goddess winced.

“Then double the price or even triple it for all I care.” Loki countered. “It don’t matter, the connection is the important thing; that little Sword Saint down there is goin’ places. We didn’t get off to the best start, but that can still be fixed. Ya happy?”

“Depends. Are you going to apologise to him for your role in antagonising him?” Finn asked.

“Hell no, the affairs of mortals are what you brats are for!” She countered instantly, grinning at them smugly as her serious attitude evaporated like it was never there. In a way it reminded Judith of the Goddess Hestia and the way her moods just seemed to switch on and off at random. “I’ll… ugh, play it nice with Dochibi, help her push for an actual title or something.”

Finn hummed consideringly at that, not that she could really hear much of it over the din of the commentator doing his thing. “Then I guess we’ll just have to do our best. Judith?”

She snapped to attention at her name being called, still feeling heady from the fight and well… just about everything else. “Captain?”

“I take it you’re going to talk to Captain Carne at some point?” She nodded seriously. “Then can I trouble you to tell him we’re prepared to pay triple for his potions, and maybe extend an offer to come spar at the Twilight Manor as well?”

It felt off that he was getting her to be the messenger, but it was an undeniably positive offer and… if she was being honest with herself, she was kinda grateful for the excuse to approach him. It’d probably make things a little less awkward at least.

So she agreed.

-

Orario, Arena VIP Area

Athena

“So this is the one?” She asked.

She already knew of course, but the insight into her stoic Vice-Captain’s opinion and disposition would be valuable in its own way. It was rare enough for her to be in Orario after all and while her left hand had done an excellent job managing her holdings here on a macro level, the incident she was here for spoke for itself.

Phaust was either an isolated incident or a symptom of something greater and she would find out which.

“Yes, my Lady.” He stated dutifully, looking for all the world to be the very picture of diligence. “Elric Carne, entered Orario just under a month ago, registered with the guild the following day and at the same time formalised the Hestia familia. Sales figures show that he made it to the fourth floor on his first day before his progress ground to a halt, obvious deception in hindsight.”

She smiled slightly at that, at the very least he’d been diligent in his information gathering in her absence.

“On top of this, one of ours spotted him when he showed up to one of Loki's… events. There were also quite a few adventurers who sang his praises for saving them in the dungeon, notably on floors that don’t line up with the aforementioned sales figures.” The man went on stiffly. “On top of this, our contacts in the guild have outlined the factions he’s brought in on the meeting… and if I may speak out of turn my Lady: it does not look good.”

“Ganesha, Hepaestus and Skadi was it? I suppose we should also prepare for the possibility of Loki showing up uninvited as well… maybe even some of the others?” She trailed off, casting her gaze across this section of Ganesha’s little arena. The God had built the place with the masses in mind, leaving her fellows sparingly little private room to themselves. A fact which gave her quite the view out over a veritable who’s who of Orario’s divinity.

Most every God and Goddess worth their salt had shown up to watch the show Hestia’s child had put on. Which made it really quite amusing to watch the hungry look in their eyes flicker and die as they slowly began to realise his strength was beyond their ability to take.

A fresh level two with the strength of a level three on top of being the fastest leveler in history? Were Hestia not a friend she’d be tempted to try her hand herself. But with Phaust’s actions souring all but the most aggressive of options, she sadly didn’t have much of a hand left to play that would leave her with both Hestia’s child and their friendship intact.

“You think others will turn up as well, my Lady?” Her Vice-Captain asked, concern etched into his tone. Whether that was for her or for allowing this failure to happen under his watch… her answer came as the man glanced away from her gaze, carefully hidden signs of shame unveiling themselves to her eyes for the briefest of moments.

Not ideal.

“If they want a shot at getting on young Carne’s good side, then almost certainly.” She posited, again watching his reaction.

“I am… not sure we can handle such pressure, not given the body of evidence.” He carefully responded, though not carefully enough to hide his worry from her.

“No.” She agreed. “We can’t, making this a quite serious failure.” She let the implication hang as her Vice-Captain tried to remain composed in the face of it. There were options of course, her familia led an entire country, how could there not be? But the potential paths forward were clear, the cost of capitulation far lesser than any other path.

Orario may be a horrendous mess of fractured alliances and petty squabbles, but they sat on the greatest resource of this age: the dungeon. An endless stream of incredibly powerful adventurers and magical stones guaranteed their success even as their system tore at itself at the seams.

A grand waste of resources it may be, but a waste she couldn’t afford to provoke nonetheless. Not with how reliant her beautiful Altena was on their magical stones and the ‘training privileges’ they extended to her. And with this adventurer’s star rising and her fellows predictably circling their newest favourite toy in pursuit of his favour; what was once a minor issue had every possibility of spiralling into something much larger.

Surprisingly however, the most interesting part of all of this was not the intrigue itself, but instead the young mortal at the centre of it all. She could see intentionality to his movements, to the way her friend’s Captain played to the crowds, his appearance and even his combat style. All of it designed in some manner to invoke the image of a hero and stoke the hearts of mortals and Gods alike.

Even the way she’d been drawn into the city and shown this, all of it spoke of some kind of intention, some kind of plan.

The only thing she couldn’t tell was where that intention ended.

Did he simply seek the crowd’s favour, or was all of it planned? A calculated move designed to back her into a corner and make her desperate or something else entirely?

There were obvious fallacies to assuming every action moved at least tangentially in regards to you, but when those actions were done a day before a hearing to decide the punishment of your familia?

There were layers of intentions to this man that hid what could be a myriad of motivations, and truly, it made him a most fascinating mortal.

Perhaps she could meet with him under the umbrella of her friendship with Hestia? Or perhaps even sooner? The thought was… rather pleasant to her sensibilities, the possibility of a genuinely stimulating conversation alluring as always.

Or perhaps… something else entirely, a bold strategy that could turn this whole situation on its head.

Yes, that would do nicely.