At Babel Tower.
Freya stood quietly by the floor-to-ceiling window, her gray pupils gazing far into the distance, eyes locked firmly in the direction of Twilight Manor.
At that moment—
Tap, tap, tap—
Footsteps echoed behind her, steady and in perfect rhythm.
More precisely, it was the sound of three people walking together.
Freya didn't turn around. She simply spoke in a soft voice.
"Ottar… how is he?"
The man in the center, his cat ears twitching slightly, replied:
"With Heith's treatment, he's recovering well."
"He's already up and walking."
The speaker was none other than Allen Fromel, vice-captain of the Freya Familia.
As a cat person, he was renowned for his agility and speed, often called the fastest in the city.
And the "Heith" he mentioned referred to is healer whose skills were just slightly below Airmid's—one of the so-called "Big Three" of Orario's healing scene.
Standing to Allen's left and right were two elven men.
On the left: Hedin Selland.
Freya Familia's strategist. Master of battlefield tactics and deployment. In private, some gods even whispered that he was "another Finn."
On the right: his complete opposite—a man whose lips were forever curved in a mocking smirk—Hogni Ragnar.
The two of them, one white, one black, one calm, one manic.
If Hedin embodied rationality and strategy, Hogni was the incarnation of madness and bloodlust.
These three, aside from Ottar the Level 7, were the core of Freya Familia's battle force. All of them were Level 6.
In any ordinary Familia, any one of them would be enough to hold up half the sky.
After a moment of thought, Allen spoke again.
"The battlefield provided by the Guild has been fully prepared."
"Terrain divisions, barrier anchors, and the assessments of both sides are all in place."
"Our personnel are in position and deployment has begun as planned."
"But—"
His voice paused briefly, as if he had something more to say.
Freya only let out a soft hum in response. She didn't ask for details, nor did she press him about that "but."
Because she didn't care.
Just like her earlier inquiry about Ottar—that casual "how is he?" wasn't born from any real concern. It was just a symbolic check-in, like flipping through a maintenance report for a tool of war.
Freya had no interest in outcomes or strategies.
Her focus was only on one person.
The one who had driven her to start this War Game.
"Proceed as planned."
Her voice was gentle, like murmuring to the wind.
She remained still, her gaze locked onto Twilight Manor, unwavering.
Even though night had fallen, Freya could still "sense" the subtle, restless aura over there—that wave of energy she couldn't ignore.
Like the sun dipping into the sea, leaving behind one final glimmer of gold.
It tugged at her heart, disrupting her stillness.
And in that moment of silence—
Hogni suddenly spread his arms wide.
"Freya, aren't we overthinking this?"
"There's no need for all these fancy deployments. When the time comes, we just charge in—"
"Grab that kid and rub his face into the ground!"
He grinned, eyes flashing with a fanatical light.
"Didn't they ban Ryota's giant skeleton?"
"The field, the rules, the whole setup—it's all a stage designed for the Freya Familia!"
"Victory is already—what? Ninety-nine point nine percent guaranteed? No—hell, it's basically one hundred!"
He raised his hands high, like a prophet proclaiming victory before the battle even began.
Allen frowned but said nothing.
Hedin stood silently at the side, his gaze quietly drifting toward Freya.
But the goddess of beauty continued staring into the distance, offering no response.
Not that she needed to.
Because, strictly speaking, Hogni wasn't wrong.
The Loki Familia had chosen to attack, and Ryota's skeletal giant was banned from use.
The battlefield was selected by the Guild, but Freya's side had pre-arranged it as their own personal "hunting ground."
Ryota leveling up to Level 4, Ais and Lefiya's sudden breakthroughs—none of that had been made public.
Meanwhile, Freya Familia had already deployed three Level 6 elites and a vast number of other members into position.
From any angle, this was a battle with no chance of losing.
Silence lingered.
Hogni's dramatic, declaration now hung awkwardly in the air, weighed down by the stillness.
His raised arms slowly lowered, the grin on his face stiffening just a bit as he sensed the anticlimactic shift in mood.
"...Tch."
He was just about to say something else to break the silence when Allen cut in first.
"I'll go prepare."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and left.
Hogni's mouth twitched, but with Hedin also turning away, he had no choice but to follow, hands waving lazily as he strolled toward the door.
Their footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Soon, the vast room was left with only Freya, standing alone.
Her eyes, seemingly capable of seeing through fate itself, remained fixed on Twilight Manor.
"The Freya Familia… losing again, huh?"
"If something like that actually happens…"
"Then I guess… I'll just surrender to you completely, Ryota."
...
The next morning.
There was only one day left until the second War Game—the final round, the siege battle.
After two days of relative calm, Orario stirred once more.
And this time, the commotion was bigger than ever.
In the streets and alleys, Adventurers clustered in groups, whispering the latest War Game rumors.
The taverns were packed every night, with underground betting pools quietly posting odds, updating them constantly.
A torrent of speculation about who would win or lose spread through the city like wildfire.
"Loki Familia? Win a siege? Yeah right!"
"They won the first round, so what? If Freya wins this next one, it's all over!"
"Is it true Ryota can't use that skeletal giant anymore? Did the Guild actually restrict it?"
"Officially? No. But… you know how it is."
"..."
Behind this swelling undercurrent was a rumor that had quietly become accepted as fact:
Ryota could no longer use the skeletal giant.
That bit of gossip spread like a virus through the city.
The Guild hadn't issued any formal restriction, but between the underworld's whispers, informants, and street gossip, Orario had simply… decided it was true.
No one questioned it.
Because it was exactly the kind of "reasonable setup" most people wanted to believe.
If that battlefield-destroying catastrophe was off the table, then the War Game could finally return to normal logic.
Freya Familia had every advantage—timing, terrain, numbers, and the luxury of defense.
Even with the Big Three and the Sword Princess, Loki Familia was stuck attacking, forced to adapt.
With things like this, the public's confidence swung back toward Freya Familia like a crashing tide.
Those who briefly supported Loki Familia after the first match began to waver, while Freya's supporters reclaimed the momentum.
And so—
Ryota's "miracle" started being questioned.
Freya's "glory" was once again held high.
Everyone knew—the first round was a test. A piece of history.
But the second round? That was the real battle for victory.
Yet at the center of all this swirling chaos, Ryota himself was quietly walking toward Hephaestus Familia's headquarters with a bag slung over his shoulder.
As if the rest of the world had nothing to do with him.
In fact, Loki had been strongly against him going out—or even moving around at all.
In this world, Adventurers who leveled up usually experienced physical discomfort afterward.
It was like the soul had been stretched, while the body was still catching up—a kind of existential dissonance.
And Ryota's Consecutive rank up? That was unheard of.
From Loki's perspective, he should've just stayed in Twilight Manor and rested.
But Ryota felt nothing like that.
He understood why—his system architecture was different.
The Falna was just an overlay. His core power came from "another world."
So while Loki and Finn discussed tomorrow's siege battle, Ryota quietly slipped out the back door of Twilight Manor.
"One day left until the War Game."
"Perfect time to test out my new ability."
He avoided the main roads, weaving through back alleys he knew well.
After several twists and turns, he reached the district where Hephaestus Familia's headquarters was located.
Just as he was about to turn the final corner, Ryota stopped.
At the end of the narrow alley, he spotted a familiar figure.
A green-haired elf maid had been waiting for him.
She took a few steps forward, as if she'd been there for a while.
Stopping at a polite distance, she spoke softly:
"Mr. Ryota. Long time no see."
"Yeah, Miss Ryuu. I don't drink much, so I rarely visit the tavern."
His eyes fell on the girl in front of him—the Gale, Ryuu Lion.
She was supposed to be the one to achieve Consecutive rank up.
And yet he'd quietly snatched that title away.
"Miss Ryuu, you're not here just to say hi, are you?"
Ryuu gave a quiet hum and said:
"I wanted to remind you of something."
"In War Game rules, besides Familia members—"
"The deity can also appoint one outside supporter."
She paused for a moment.
"Has Lady Loki… forgotten that?"
Ryota blinked, surprised.
He hadn't expected Ryuu Lion to remind him of that, let alone in this way.
Elves were known for their pride and exclusivity, especially toward other races.
But the girl before him showed no trace of arrogance.
Her tone carried only sincere, restrained concern.
"…So even Miss Ryuu thinks…"
Ryota spoke slowly.
"…that the Loki Familia can't win?"
Ryuu didn't answer. She simply stayed silent.
Ryota chuckled, looking at her.
"In that case…"
"I think you'd make a perfect outside supporter."
Ryuu froze, stunned for a moment before speaking.
"You… you know about that?"
Ryota nodded.
"I've heard a bit about the Astrea Familia."
"But don't worry—I'm not with the Guild, nor am I some gossiping busybody."
Ryuu's eyes dimmed a little.
It was his calm, "I already know" attitude that cut her the deepest.
Her fingers clenched slightly, her voice laced with bitter self-mockery.
"…A vengeful elf like me… is worth being an outside supporter?"
It sounded like she was asking Ryota—but really, she was asking herself.
Ryota suddenly smiled.
"If it were me standing in your place back then, I would've summoned the skeletal giant, ripped all their heads off—"
"And made chamber pots out of them. The longer I used them, the better."
His tone was so calm, yet every word was like a bloodstained dagger, slicing straight through the past no one dared mention.
"So in other words—"
"I really admire what you did, Miss Ryuu."
The air froze.
Ryuu's body trembled, as if something had struck the softest part of her heart.
She looked up sharply, staring into Ryota's smiling face.
His eyes were clear—impossibly clear.
In them, she saw no pity, no fear, no condescension.
Only one thing: Understanding.
True, unreserved, standing-in-her-shoes kind of understanding.
For the first time, the ice-cold elf's face showed a trace of panic.
Ryota waved casually, stepping past her and continuing forward.
As he walked, he spoke.
"As for outside support—Loki Familia doesn't need it."
"Knowing Lady Loki, she wouldn't ask for it anyway."
"Oh, right."
He tilted his head slightly.
"If you've got some spare cash, Miss Ryuu, you might want to bet on the Loki Familia."
"Odds are something like 1 to 105 right now."
"Guaranteed profit."
With that, he disappeared down the alley.
Leaving Ryuu Lion standing alone, a quiet sound echoing in her chest.
Not logic—but something long buried.
A desire, long dormant, finally stirring again.