Silence hung heavy within the abandoned old church, broken only by the faint sound of Ichor—divine blood—dripping onto a back.
Fine dust motes danced within the shaft of sunlight piercing through the hole in the roof, creating an almost sacred visual effect. Venti, the Wind God who had just descended (or rather, was stranded), was performing his first sacred ritual in this world: the granting of Falna.
"Mmm... your back is so tense, Alfia. Relax a bit," Venti murmured, his fingers coated in bluish light dancing across the skin of Alfia's back. "If you stay stiff like this, the sacred script is going to come out ugly, you know."
Alfia, lying prone on the makeshift altar they had cleaned up, let out a soft snort. "Shut up and get it over with. Do you think it's easy for a former Hera Familia executive to entrust her back to a foreign god she's known for less than two hours?"
"Ehe! But I'm your god now, aren't I?"
Venti chuckled, yet his hands worked with the precision of a maestro. To Venti's spiritual sight, this Falna system was fascinating. It was like sculpting the potential of a soul into a form readable by the physical world. As a former Archon who mastered the art of freedom, he didn't simply copy Alfia's old status; he 'liberated' the locks that had been held back by her illness.
"Done!" Venti exclaimed, pulling his hands away. The blue light faded, leaving behind rows of intricate and beautiful black Hieroglyphs on Alfia's back.
Venti took a piece of worn parchment, pressed it against Alfia's back, and then peeled it off.
"Let's see just how terrifying this 'Monster' of the Hera Familia is," Venti whistled as he read the paper.
Falna Status
Name: Alfia Level: 7
Abilities:
Strength: I (0)
Endurance: I (0)
Dexterity: I (0)
Agility: I (0)
Magic: I (0)
(Author's Note: Due to the conversion to a new Familia, basic status points are reset, but the Level remains. Hidden stats from Level 7 remain active.)
Magic:
Satanas Verion: A super-short chant magic that strikes the enemy with blocks of sound.
Silentium Eden: A super-short chant that enchants the user's body in a magic-nullifying armor.
Genos Angelus: A super-long chant magic that summons a gigantic silvery-grey bell above the user's head, possessing an effect range of over 100 meters.
Skills:
Gif Blessing: In exchange for keeping their status permanently in a Limit Off state, the user suffers from multiple abnormalities, and all abilities degrade over time at a faster rate during combat.
Alme
Vel Ardore
Development Abilities:
Ataraxia: Absolute resistance against mental attacks and charms.
Mage: Passive increase in magic power.
"Gif Blessing..." Venti read the skill name with a serious tone. "A powerful skill, but a greedy one. No wonder your body feels like it's being gnawed by termites from the inside."
Alfia rose, slipping back into her black dress with graceful movements. "That is the price for power capable of killing a dragon. Or at least... that's what we thought." There was a bitter note at the end of her sentence.
"Your turn, Miss Mommy-to-be!" Venti shifted his gaze to Meteria, who was sitting anxiously on a church pew.
Meteria smiled weakly. "Please take care of me, Venti-sama. Though I doubt my status will be of much use."
The process for Meteria was handled with much more caution. Venti could feel just how fragile the life before him was. If Alfia was a storm destroying its own vessel, Meteria was a candle running out of wick. However, thanks to the intervention of Venti's Authority of Time earlier, that flame was now stable, albeit small.
As Venti copied Meteria's status, he raised an eyebrow.
"Oho? Now this is interesting."
Name: Meteria Level: 2
Abilities:
Strength: I (0)
Endurance: I (0)
Dexterity: I (0)
Agility: I (0)
Magic: I (0)
Magic:
Eden: Creates an anti-magic zone and absolute healing within a small area.
Skills:
Mater Amata (Beloved Mother): Extremely increases the Growth Rate of those who share a blood or emotional bond with her. Converts the user's luck into potential for others.
"And this skill... Mater Amata. You were truly born to be a supporter, Meteria," Venti commented, handing over the status sheet. "Your child... he will be something special."
Meteria stroked her stomach, her eyes tearing up as she looked at the status. "Thank you... Thank you for telling me that I'm still useful."
After the ritual was complete, they sat in a circle on the cold stone floor. Venti took out a few apples he had "found" (subtly stolen) from the market that morning.
Venti took a bite of his apple, the crisp crunch breaking the silence. "So," he began with a deceptively casual tone. "Now you are my children. My new family. I think it's time we spoke honestly."
Alfia stopped chewing. Her body went rigid.
"Zeus and Hera Familia," Venti continued, his teal eyes piercing sharply into Alfia's grey ones. "You were the peak of this world's power. Level 8, Level 9... monsters that even the gods respected. But you lost. You were utterly destroyed."
Venti set his apple down. "What actually happened when you fought the One-Eyed Black Dragon?"
The silence that followed the question was so heavy it felt suffocating.
Alfia's face paled. Her usually sharp eyes went hollow, her pupils constricting. Her hands trembled violently—not from illness, but from pure terror etched into her very soul.
"No..." Alfia whispered, her voice choking up. "Don't ask me to remember it."
"Alfia?" Meteria held her sister's hand anxiously.
"Dark... Everything was dark..." Alfia began to ramble, her breathing ragged. Cold sweat poured down her temples. Her magical aura began to leak out, causing the air around the church to vibrate and crack. "He... He wasn't a monster... He was the end of times. Captain... Zald... Maxim... all of them... like insects..."
The trauma was too deep. Remembering the dragon was akin to reliving the despair of watching her comrades—the greatest heroes of the age—being torn apart helplessly.
"Stop it! Please!" Alfia covered her ears, as if she could hear the dragon's roar again.
The church began to shake. Shockwaves from Alfia's unstable magic started cracking the stone pillars.
"Alfia! Calm down!" Meteria shouted in panic.
Venti didn't move. He didn't panic. Instead, he closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.
"It seems words alone aren't enough to calm the storm in your heart."
Venti raised his hand. His fingers plucked the empty air, as if invisible strings were suspended there.
Tring.
A clear, bell-like chime echoed. It wasn't the sound of ordinary magic. It was the sound of an ancient wind.
Venti wasn't using his own Anemo power. He was pulling a thin thread from the atmosphere—remnants of an essence he sensed far to the north, the essence of a swallowed Great Spirit.
"Listen to this wind, Alfia," Venti whispered. His voice changed. It was no longer the voice of a cheerful boy, but a voice that was gentle, motherly, and majestic.
A gentle breeze blew through the church. It carried the scent of distant meadows, the scent of freedom yet unstained by blood. The wind caressed Alfia's face, slipping into the cracks of her broken memories, and slowly blowing away the fog of fear.
It was the essence of Aria.
Alfia's tense shoulders slowly dropped. Her ragged breathing began to steady. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, but the tremors of horror vanished, replaced by a strange longing.
"This wind..." Alfia opened her eyes, looking at Venti with a blurred gaze. "It feels... familiar."
Alfia took a deep breath, stabilizing herself. She looked at Venti, this time with eyes that were clear and full of resolve.
"I'm sorry. I lost control," Alfia said softly.
"It's alright. Now, tell me. What did you face there?"
Alfia looked toward the window, gazing out into a dark past.
"It was a slaughter," she began. Her voice was cold, but steady. "We arrived with confidence. We had just conquered the Behemoth and the Leviathan. We thought the Black Dragon was simply the next big target."
Alfia clenched her hands on her lap.
"But we were wrong. That creature... he existed in a different dimension. Maxim's strongest attack, Zald's absolute defense, even the combined magic of the Hera Familia... none of it left a significant scratch."
Alfia turned to Venti, her expression filled with a disbelief that lingered even now.
"The most terrifying thing wasn't his physical strength, Venti. It was his stamina. That dragon... he never tired. He never ran out of fire breath. He never stopped regenerating the small wounds we inflicted. It was as if... as if he had a limitless supply of Mana."
Alfia bit her lower lip until it bled. "We fought for days. But while we grew weaker and died one by one, the dragon remained as strong as he was in the first second. It wasn't a battle. It was a slow execution."
Silence enveloped them once more. Meteria wept silently, hugging her sister's arm.
However, Venti did not look surprised. There was no fear on his face. Only a cold, sharp understanding.
"Of course he didn't get tired," Venti's voice broke the silence. His tone was flat, yet it held an authority that gave Alfia goosebumps. "The Dragon cheated."
"Cheated?" Alfia asked, confused.
"You said that wind felt familiar, didn't you?" Venti pointed toward the north. "Do you know who Aria is?"
"Of course. The Great Spirit of Wind who was with Albert the Hero. She... she disappeared a thousand years ago," Alfia replied.
Venti nodded. He stood up, walking toward the window facing the distant Dragon Valley.
"Great Spirits aren't just magical creatures. They are personifications of the world's elements themselves. Aria is the 'Wind'. She is the breath of this world."
Venti turned, looking at Alfia and Meteria seriously.
"The One-Eyed Black Dragon didn't kill Aria. He swallowed her. He trapped her inside his heart."
Alfia's eyes went wide. "Wait... you mean..."
"For a thousand years..." Venti continued, his voice heavy. "That dragon has been using Aria as a living battery. He siphons the limitless essence of wind from Aria to fuel his own power. You weren't fighting a dragon, Alfia. You were fighting a natural disaster that had a reactor of infinite energy in its chest."
"That's why..." Alfia covered her mouth with her hand, a new horror dawning on her face. "That's why he never tired. That's why the wind around that valley always weeps..."
The puzzle pieces in Alfia's head finally clicked together. Their defeat wasn't because they were weak. Their defeat was an inevitability because their enemy was using the resources of the world itself against them.
"He used that... and destroyed us," Alfia whispered, her voice filled with hatred.
"Yeah. A clever bastard for a big lizard," Venti snorted roughly.
Venti walked back toward them, then crouched down in front of Alfia. He placed his hand on her shoulder.
"But now you know the secret. The battery can be removed. And the cage can be destroyed."
Venti's teal eyes glowed. Behind him, faint shadows of wind wings spread out, creating a majestic silhouette against the church wall.
"Zeus and Hera Familia failed because they tried to defeat physical force with physical force. But I..." Venti pointed at himself with a smirk. "I am the best thief in the world. And I am an expert at freeing things that are trapped."
The despair in Alfia's chest slowly receded, replaced by a small spark that had long been extinguished. Hope.
This little god in front of her was crazy. He was poor, looked weak, and liked to get drunk. But when he talked about freeing Aria and kicking that legendary dragon's ass... Alfia believed him.
"So," Venti stood up, clapping his hands. "Long-term target: Beat the Dragon, save Aria. Short-term target: We need money for dinner. Alfia, Meteria, get ready! The first mission of the Barbatos Familia begins!"
"What mission?" Meteria asked, wiping her tears.
"The Dungeon!" Venti exclaimed, pointing to the exit with dramatic flair. "Alfia, you're going to the Dungeon. But before that... Alfia, could you lend me 50 Valis? I saw a discount on wine at the tavern across the street."
Alfia stared at her new god. Silence reigned for a moment. Then, for the first time in a very long time, the corners of the Silence's lips lifted into a genuine smile.
"No."
"Ehh?! Stingy!"
The wind blew hard outside the church, carrying laughter rarely heard in this dark era. The wheel of fate in Orario had turned in a completely new direction, pushed by the wind from another world.