The wind of the Gazoob Desert howled wildly, carrying grains of hot sand that scratched the skin. However, for the God of Darkness, it wasn't the extreme temperature that made his breath catch.
Standing atop his command chariot, Erebus stared straight ahead at the valley of slaughter below. His sharp gray eyes reflected the flashes of purple lightning striking down and the blazes of black fire swallowing the sea of troops. The strong wind blew his messy, pitch-black hair, making two strands of cadet gray bangs in front of his face flutter erratically.
Erebus slipped his left hand—the only hand clad in a black glove—into the pocket of his suit trousers. The purple tie, loosely and messily knotted at the collar of his white shirt, contrasted sharply with the aura of death surrounding him.
Behind his signature casual expression, Erebus's intellect was working at a terrifying speed. His mind tried to rationalize what he had just witnessed. Ever since he descended to the Gekai, the laws of lower-world magic had been absolute to him: lethal magic required long verses of incantation, while short chants only produced weak effects.
However, the White Elf and Dark Elf down there had just uprooted all that logic completely. They unleashed mass-destruction magic with almost no chanting whatsoever. Their power output completely violated the established order.
Erebus let out a long sigh, a faint smile full of resignation slowly etching itself onto his handsome face.
My Purgatory plan... has already crumbled before its curtains even opened, Erebus thought, his inner voice sounding both amused and amazed.
Hundreds of thousands of Warusa troops, desert tactics, and Seale's boasted illusion curse—crushed to dust in a matter of minutes. The stage of purification he had so meticulously prepared to test the heroes of Orario had been burned to the ground by uninvited actors.
It didn't take long for the four anomalous Elves to clear out the remaining troops and arrive at the rear lines, exactly at the location of the gods' command chariots.
Panic instantly erupted. Set, Sobek, Osiris, and Resheph. And indeed, that was the reality. In the Gekai, without their Arcanum, gods were merely human-shaped beings with fragile physiques.
With highly efficient and almost disinterested movements, Dina and Vena incapacitated the four gods. There was no epic battle. They were simply tied up using ordinary rope like low-class prisoners of war, an absolute humiliation for divine entities.
Only Erebus did not struggle. The God of Darkness instead stepped down from his chariot with an elegant stride, raising both hands into the air in a theatrical gesture of surrender. He allowed himself to be tied up voluntarily.
As Hedin Selland stepped closer with his cold face, Erebus's curiosity could no longer be contained.
"What an absolutely extraordinary power," praised Erebus in a casual tone, looking at the White Elf and his comrades in turn. "I must ask, who exactly are you? Do you hail from Orario? Or perhaps... you are the trump cards Loki and Freya have been hiding underground all this time?"
Hedin met Erebus's gaze from behind his glasses. There was no respect in his eyes, only absolute arrogance muffled by professionalism.
"We are members of the Barbatos Familia," Hedin answered briefly, his voice as cold as ice.
"The Barbatos Familia?" Erebus repeated, his tone now mixed with deep amazement and intrigue, his charismatic smile blossoming once more. "I see. The place sheltering Alfia apparently also gathers illogical monsters like you. Truly an extraordinary anomaly. But, why did you bother coming down to this remote place in the Gazoob Desert?"
"Coincidence," this time it was Dina who answered, her face looking at Erebus without emotion. "This is purely due to an official Guild mission given by Royman."
Erebus's mouth fell slightly open before he closed his eyes and chuckled softly. The irony was too beautiful. His purgatory scenario, the conspiracy he had woven, was destroyed not by the will of great heroes or the intervention of major familias, but by the coincidence of a cheap Guild administrative mission.
"I see," Erebus murmured, opening his eyes again. His mind was now spinning rapidly, analyzing this new, completely unexpected variable. That God Barbatos was truly full of riddles; after becoming a haven for Alfia, he actually possessed these Elf monsters. "I have many questions about—"
"If you have questions," Hedin cut in with a final tone, signaling the Elves to start taking their prisoners away. "Speak directly to our god."
Those words successfully planted the seed of immense curiosity in Erebus's chest. What kind of god was this Barbatos, to be able to gather these Elves of anomalous strength and bind their loyalty so tightly?
The journey back to the Shalzard Kingdom took place in silence. Upon arriving at the magnificent Sorshana palace, Resheph, Set, Sobek, and Osiris were immediately dragged into a heavily guarded special isolation room in the palace's west wing.
However, different treatment was given to Erebus. The rope binding his hands was removed. Hedin escorted the God of Darkness through the marble hallways of the palace, bringing him to a special dining room that seemed to have been personally prepared by the King of Shalzard.
When the carved mahogany doors opened, Erebus stepped inside. The room had a warm nuance, illuminated by crystal chandeliers and carrying the scent of jasmine tea. At the end of the long dining table sat an entity that immediately seized Erebus's entire focus.
The figure looked very petite, appearing like a young boy or a street bard in typical green poet's attire. A wooden lyre rested on his lap. His teal eyes looked at Erebus with a gleam of cheerfulness that contrasted so sharply with the calm, theatrical authority attached to the God of Darkness.
Erebus was silent for a moment. He was an expert at reading character, but the entity before him radiated a highly paradoxical aura. Mortal innocence and ancient wisdom blended into one.
"I see..." Erebus flashed his signature, intriguing faint smile, stepping slowly toward the table. "So, you are Barbatos."
The petite god smiled broadly, plucking a single string on his lyre to produce a clear note. "Exactly! Nice to meet you, Erebus. I am Barbatos, or you can call me Venti. Please, have a seat, the journey from Gazoob must have been quite tiring."
Erebus pulled out the velvet-upholstered chair across from Venti and sat with his back resting casually. He stared intently at the God of Wind.
"Your Familia members are very terrifying, Venti. You have brought down my Purgatory stage very elegantly," Erebus said, his voice flowing calmly. "I assume you brought me here not just to drink tea."
Venti placed his lyre on the table. His teal eyes now looked straight into Erebus's gray eyes. The cheerful atmosphere in the room was instantly replaced by a pressing sharpness.
"I just want to know what's inside the head of the dark stage's designer," Venti said, his voice remaining light yet possessing absolute weight. "Tell me, Erebus... What is justice?"
Erebus widened his eyes slightly. Of all forms of threats, interrogations, or insults he expected, he absolutely did not anticipate being held at gunpoint with this kind of philosophical question.
However, to Erebus, this was the perfect invitation. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"Absolute justice," Erebus began, his voice deepening, radiating a dark yet highly captivating charisma. "Is a high idealism that can only be achieved and won by manifesting the impossible. To me, Venti, justice is not something that simply falls peacefully from the sky. It must be forged through extreme and deeply agonizing struggle."
Erebus raised his left hand, the one clad in a black glove, grasping empty air.
"This world became too fragile after the paralysis of the Zeus and Hera Familias. You must have seen it. If the adventurers in Orario just sit pretty and are not tested by real, horrifying threats, then the 'justice' they shout about is nothing but pure nonsense."
Erebus's eyes glinted with dark fanaticism. "Sooner or later, the One-Eyed Black Dragon will roar again. If that monster truly awakens and wreaks havoc, the Gekai currently lacks even the slightest ability to fight it. They will be wiped out without a trace."
Erebus leaned back again, looking at Venti with a challenging stare.
"For humanity to give birth to pure justice and true heroes, there must be an absolute evil acting as a barrier wall for them. That is why I designed Purgatory. That is why I am willing to soil my hands. In my eyes, human justice is only proven legitimate and strong if they manage to rise from absolute despair, unite, and bring me down."
The room fell silent after Erebus finished speaking. The philosophy he outlined was horrifying, yet it possessed a dark logic that was hard to refute when based on Erebus's absolute fear of the Black Dragon threat, which he believed would soon bring annihilation.
Venti was silent for a few moments. He looked at Erebus not with anger or hatred, but with a melancholic gaze, as if looking at a hard worker who had lost his way.
"I see," Venti murmured softly.
The God of Wind reached for his lyre again. He began to pluck the strings of the lyre, creating a very soft and soothing melody, contrasting with the heavy tension in the room.
"To me, Erebus," Venti said between the plucks of the strings, "Justice is the absolute freedom to choose, without the slightest coercion from the gods."
Erebus furrowed his brow, listening carefully.
"Freedom and justice, if dictated, engineered, and planned from the start by a god like you, then their true value is already lost," Venti continued, his tone flowing as light as the wind. "Let humans choose their own path. Whether they later choose to become strong to protect something, or choose to remain fragile ordinary humans, that is their absolute right."
Venti let out a short sigh, stopping his lyre plucking. His teal eyes pierced through Erebus's charismatic mask, laying bare the burden carried by the god of darkness.
"You overwork yourself, Erebus," Venti criticized with a faint, empathetic smile. "You sacrificed yourself to become the greatest villain because you, fundamentally, do not believe that humanity can rise on its own without the whip of your pain."
Those words hit Erebus harder than a physical blow.
"True justice," Venti delivered his final conclusion, "Is letting a bird fly with its own wings when it is ready. Not by burning its nest so it is forced to jump in order to fly."
For Venti, the best justice in Orario was not answering Erebus's moral question with sword slashes, but by destroying the entire theatrical stage the god had created. Venti would free the adventurers from the shackles of destiny and the insane trials fabricated by the gods.
Erebus was left speechless. He stared at the petite god before him with mixed feelings. On one hand, his ego as the architect of despair strongly rejected such naivety. But on the other hand, Venti's logic possessed a paradoxical beauty that made his breath hitch.
Erebus chuckled softly, his laugh growing until it echoed within the dining room. He massaged the bridge of his nose with his black-gloved hand, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Outstanding," Erebus whispered, his eyes looking at Venti with a mix of awe and absolute defeat. "Truly outstanding. You are a god who refuses to play as a god. Your faith in mortal fragility is terrifying, Venti."
Venti returned the laugh with his genuine cheerful smile. He set down his lyre and rested his chin on both hands.
"Now, since your Purgatory plan has officially failed," Venti said, his tone returning to being light and unburdened. "You and your loser alliance gods will surely be sent back to the Tenkai. The wind in this desert is no longer on your side, and it's time your vacation in the lower world is concluded. You must already understand this consequence very well, don't you?"
Erebus's smile faded slightly, but he nodded in resignation. "Of course. The villain must exit the stage when his plan has crumbled."
"However," Venti interrupted, his eyes flashing with mystery. "As your last wish before you return to the tenkai, I will show you an exclusive performance."
Erebus's eyebrows raised. "Performance?"
"Yes. A battle that will prove my thesis," Venti smiled broadly. "I will show you how the people in the Gekai can surpass their absolute limits without needing to be pushed by the despair you created."
"What do you mean?" Erebus narrowed his eyes, his analytical instincts spinning sharply once more.
"How about I use Zald to test Finn, Gareth, Riveria, and Ottar?" Venti offered in a cheerful tone. "Let's see if those successors of Orario can become incredibly strong because of the freedom they fight for, or because they have no other choice."
That sentence made the world around Erebus seem to stop spinning. The air in his lungs felt forcibly pulled out. His genius brain immediately assembled the puzzle pieces that had been scattered all this time.
How did Venti know he brought Zald? Why did the false information about the arrival of the Loki and Freya Familia reach him?
Erebus was stunned, his lazy gaze instantly vanishing, replaced by a deep look of awe as he stared at the petite god before him.
"I see..." Erebus let out a long sigh, a bitter smile full of admiration slowly etching itself onto his handsome face. "Of course you knew I brought Zald. No wonder our movements in this desert were read so easily. That Zald... he has switched sides and leaked my entire scenario to you, hasn't he?"
Venti only winked one eye in response.
Erebus slumped in his chair, wiping his face with his palm, before he finally laughed again. This time his laugh was that of a master tactician realizing he had been completely defeated since the very first move—not because his strategy was weak, but because his opponent had from the start demolished the entire game board he built.
Zald had turned away because he found something Erebus could not provide—a chance to be free from the shackles of the corrosive poison that had been gnawing at the remainder of his life, through the healing miracle brought by the God of Wind. Erebus, completely unaware of the secret healing of Zald's physique, could only speculate in his heart that the veteran had grown tired of despair and chose the path of freedom offered by Barbatos.
Erebus stared at Venti for a long time. The God of Darkness took a long breath, straightened the purple tie at his neck, and flashed a very rare genuine smile. His curiosity now far exceeded all tactical calculations and scenarios of despair he had glorified all this time.
"Very well, God of Freedom," Erebus said, his voice flowing full of anticipation. "I agree. Let me sit in the audience seats for one last time. Show me... if your song of freedom is truly capable of surpassing this stage of darkness I have woven."
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