Want to read ahead? Join my Patreon for just $7 to get early access to all upcoming chapters!
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations
─────
Chapter 141: A Gamble for the Jackpot
"Lord Hermes... is it really okay for me to be here?" Asfi sat stiffly, deeply unsettled by being the only mortal in a room packed with gods and goddesses at the Babel Tower assembly hall.
"Yeah, it's fine. Nobody here is going to be that picky about it," Hermes replied with a breezy smile, completely unfazed.
He kept Asfi standing right beside him while slowly reaching into his shirt. "...It's about time."
The pocket watch he pulled out showed that noon was fast approaching. Hermes tilted his chin up, speaking to the empty air. "Well then, Ouranos. Please grant us permission to exercise our power."
A few seconds passed before a response echoed through the vibrating space.
[Permission granted.]
From the direction of the Guild Headquarters, a heavy, reverberating voice possessing supreme divine authority rang out. Every deity in Orario snapped their fingers in unison.
Instantly, glowing mirrors appeared out of thin air in taverns, on street corners, in the central plaza, and even inside countless private homes. The sudden manifestation of countless round mirrors in every corner of the city sparked a tidal wave of excitement among the masses.
This was the Divine Mirror—a divine power permitted for use in the lower world. It possessed the power of clairvoyance, allowing one to see everything that transpired, regardless of distance. This was the sole approved exception granted so that the gods could enjoy events hosted in the lower world.
"The Divine Mirrors have been set up! Allow me to explain once more—this War Game is a Castle Siege between the Focalors Familia and the Apollo Familia! The warriors of both factions are already on the battlefield, just waiting for the noon bell to signal the start of the war!"
Matching the different locations like pubs and main streets, the circular mirrors of various sizes clearly displayed the ancient castle flying the sun flag, as well as the five tiny figures standing on the plains outside its walls.
Speaking into his megaphone, Announcer Ibri began explaining the War Game's rules to a city that was already hyped to a boiling point.
"Are we ready!? Betting is about to close!"
As the live broadcast echoed outside, many taverns on the streets were packed with adventurers and merchants feverishly running gambling rings. Everyone was placing bets on who would emerge as the final victor between the Focalors Familia and the Apollo Familia.
People who had wagered large sums of Valis gripped their betting slips tightly at their tables, their eyes glued to the mirrors floating in the air.
"The odds for Apollo Familia versus Focalors Familia are about twenty-five to one..."
"The payout for the Focalors Familia is actually over twenty to one... Their odds are even worse than I imagined. What kind of idiot would bet on a five-person Familia to win!?"
The adventurer acting as the bookie tallied the bets and slips, confirming the state of the pool. Given the difference in power, it was obvious that the money should overwhelmingly favor the Apollo Familia. Yet, a surprising number of people had actually bet on the Focalors Familia.
"It's definitely just those gods again..."
Those idiotic gods with their weird thought processes always loved betting on massive upsets.
Right in front of the bookie's eyes, he could see gods clutching their tickets, praying for a jackpot while screaming things like, "Whoa—!", "Come on, come on—!", and "All in! All in! Double or nothing, baby!"
Meanwhile, the atmosphere in another tavern was a bit more awkward.
"What the hell? Everyone's betting on Apollo to win. So boring." A bookie looked around the tavern and sighed loudly.
Then, Bete Loga stepped up and slammed a heavy bag of Valis right onto the table.
"One million on the Focalors Familia."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"
"Are you serious!? Vanargand is betting on the Focalors Familia to win!?"
"You gotta be kidding me. Is there some inside scoop we don't know about!?" The entire tavern instantly erupted into chaos.
"Ahahaha! Who else wants to bet on the Focalors Familia? Place your bets, no take-backs!" the bookie yelled excitedly.
"Right here. Three million."
Suddenly, a towering figure dressed in Far East martial arts attire—Kashima Ouka—dropped an even larger coin pouch in front of the bookie.
"Wait, isn't that the Captain of the Takemikazuchi Familia? Since when do they have that kind of money?"
Someone recognized Ouka. They were known throughout Orario for being incredibly poor. Ouka ignored the gamblers' gossip and just looked up at the Divine Mirror, praying silently.
Out of that three million, two million was money Aiden had entrusted him to bet before leaving. The remaining one million was the entire life savings the Takemikazuchi Familia had scraped together, originally meant to be sent back to the shrine in their homeland.
But he chose to trust Aiden and gamble it all on this one shot.
"Hey, are their brains fried? Or... is there really some info we're missing?"
"Screw it, Vanargand and Takemikazuchi both placed bets. That can't be a coincidence. I'm following suit. Let's go big."
Some people picked up on the clues and immediately followed the bet, but the vast majority still chose to trust their own judgment. Five people attacking a castle guarded by over a hundred? Even picture books wouldn't dare write a script like that.
Every corner of the streets was packed to the brim with unprecedented excitement. Everyone's emotions were being pushed to the absolute peak as they waited for the noon bell to ring.
"Have you said your goodbyes to your kids?"
Apollo swaggered over to Focalors, an elegant smile plastered on his face as if everything was already in the palm of his hand. His tone dripped with condescending pity.
"Apollo, do you know what a hero is?" Focalors didn't answer him. She didn't even look his way. She simply stared at the image in the Divine Mirror and threw the question back at him.
"Huh? What are you trying to say at a time like this?" Apollo's heart skipped an involuntary beat.
Focalors' reaction was completely outside of his expectations—no worry, no anxiety, not even a hint of frustration. It was an almost indifferent calm that made him feel deeply unsettled.
"A so-called hero is someone who shoulders the hopes of others to accomplish what ordinary people deem impossible, ultimately achieving a great feat known as a 'miracle'. That is a hero."
Focalors finished speaking in an enigmatic tone and completely ignored Apollo, focusing all her attention on the Divine Mirror. Reflected in those heterochromic eyes were the five tiny figures out on the plains.
"What nonsense... Just playing pretend!"
Apollo's teeth ground together loudly, a hint of twisted rage flashing across his handsome face. He wanted to see if Focalors could maintain that damn composure when his Familia secured their inevitable victory.
─────
Support this fanfict by leaving Positive Review, Comments, and Power Stones.
For Advance Chapters:
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations
