To slaughter the gods. To purge the Heavens. To cut down even those he had been close to without the slightest mercy, and leave the Heavens hollow for ten thousand years.
A dry branch snapped in the fire with a sharp crack, sending sparks leaping high.
The cavern fell into a silence broken only by the heavy, labored breathing of the monsters.
Even from the other side of the faintly glowing crystal communication orb, not a single sound came through. The look of moved excitement that had lit up the Variants' faces as they listened to tales of their benefactor's glorious deeds — it had frozen there, fixed in place.
Because, after all.
For the Variants, who had spent years hiding in the Dungeon, feared even by the surface adventurers, it was genuinely difficult to grasp what it actually meant to slaughter every last god in the sky.
Especially since, on all those occasions when they had crouched in the shadows to steal glances at the adventurers, those very gods were the names that rolled off adventurers' lips as untouchable, exalted, beyond reproach.
And now they were being told that this particular god — the one who had seemed so unusually gentle — was the figure who had left the Heavens empty and silent for ten thousand years. No wonder even Fels, a creature who had lived for eight hundred years, instinctively dropped her voice whenever she spoke those two words.
Only a god of that caliber could — on the strength of that reputation alone — compel the divine Familias that despised monsters into wordless acceptance when Dungeon monsters appeared on the surface.
"That's it?"
Amou Kirukiru stuck her little finger in her ear, gave it a casual dig, and tossed her long hair back over her shoulder.
She glanced around at the companions beside her.
Onigawara Rin had her head bowed, unhurriedly retying the decorative tassel on her tachi.
Tendou Kisara had let her thumb slide off her sword guard and was, if anything, stifling a yawn.
Hanasaka Warabi blinked.
This was not a matter of being thick-skinned.
It was simply that for these girls, from the very first day they had joined the Familia, they had never once thought of their god as any ordinary, rule-abiding deity.
If they had, they would never have crossed from one world into this one.
But that reaction left Fels' entire prepared speech — the one she had steeled herself to deliver, every grave and weighty word of it — completely jammed in her throat, going neither up nor down.
Fels' skull-face went blank. Having no other recourse, she turned her head to the other side and looked toward the Variants. Surely these monsters, who had spent so long teetering on the edge of life and death, would have some ordinary human sense left in them.
On the Variants' side, the reaction was indeed rather more pronounced than the girls'.
Reed's scale-covered face was twisted into an expression of such deep conflict it looked as though it might knot itself shut. Several of the half-bird Variants huddled together, their wings trembling faintly.
After all, this was a god who had killed even those he was close to.
Just as the atmosphere had begun to stiffen into an awkward standoff.
The largest figure who had been standing at the very front throughout — the stone-dragon Grosse — suddenly moved.
His enormous stone foot slammed down on the rocky ground with a crash that sent fragments of stone skittering in all directions. Those dark-yellow slit pupils fixed on Fels, and twin jets of scorching air blasted from his nostrils.
"What is there to be afraid of."
Grosse's voice was low and rough.
"Don't forget — in this damned world of ours, how has everyone else treated us."
He turned his head and swept his gaze across the companions behind him.
"All those gods who had justice and righteousness on their lips and called themselves benevolent deities — in all these decades, was there a single one who dared step forward and speak up for us?"
"Not one!"
Grosse turned around, facing the communication orb that had been glowing steadily all this while.
"Last night's events — you all heard about it from Rei."
"Haimer-sama dared bring us to the surface. Dared stand openly against every god in all of Orario!"
"Why?
"Precisely because every other god fears him!"
Grosse lifted his chin, and his wings snapped wide open behind him.
"The strong prey upon the weak — that is the law of the Dungeon, and it is the law of the surface!
"So long as that fearsome god can grant us a place to stand on the surface, then I, Grosse, will acknowledge him as my chief god. And if that chief god one day bids me march to my death, I will be the first to charge forward!
"Because he alone has given me, Grosse, a new life!"
Grosse's declaration — crude in reasoning but fierce in conviction — detonated among the Variants like a thunderbolt.
"Grosse is right!"
"The history of the past cannot change our circumstances now."
"Haimer-sama — the only one willing to shelter us and let us live — he is the only true god for us!"
At that moment, the communication orb that had been silent carried Rei's voice through.
"Since Haimer-sama is one of the precious few in this world willing to accept our existence —
"Then no matter what dreadful name he bears, we who shelter beneath his protection ought to follow him to the very end."
Hearing the Variants express themselves with such unanimity — even the one who had always harbored the deepest hatred for the surface-dwellers, Grosse himself, pledging his loyalty without a moment's hesitation —
What could Fels say.
Concealed within her hood, she most likely let out a long, long sigh.
...
At the same time.
The surface. Orario, outer district.
Countless tall construction cranes and machinery stood beneath the sun.
Great stone pillars rose one by one from the earth.
Hundreds upon hundreds of laborers pressed through the night without stopping. The crash of stone on stone, the cries of livestock, the shouts of foremen — all of it tangled together into one churning roar.
The weather was nowhere near warm, yet Royman felt a chill running down his back all the same. He clutched a square of white silk handkerchief in one hand, mopping ceaselessly at his forehead.
"Haimer-sama, please, not so fast — the ground ahead is uneven, mind you don't trip—"
Royman called out the reminder as he hurried along behind.
Haimer stopped walking and raised his eyes to look at the enormous pit not far off where the foundation was already being dug.
The area was certainly large enough.
More than sufficient to house the future residents — those 'Cursed Children', and the Dungeon's Variants alike.
"The progress is quite something." Haimer turned around, his mild gaze settling on Royman.
"From when Ganesha approved the land yesterday afternoon to now — barely a single day, and the outline of the foundation is already taking shape."
"Guildmaster Royman, your efficiency truly commands respect."
At those words of praise.
Royman's pudgy face immediately creased into a wide nest of smiling folds.
"Oh, not at all, not at all — when Haimer-sama gives his instructions, our Guild naturally treats it as a matter of the utmost priority."
Royman bent forward in a bow, and then another.
Haimer gave a slight nod, the smile at the corner of his mouth undiminished.
"Very good."
"Please pass along my regards to Ouranos."
"Tell him the matter he promised me has been handled well, and I won't make things difficult for him in return."
At those words, the anxiety Royman had been carrying the entire day finally settled back to rest.
He had just been about to raise the handkerchief to wipe his brow again and offer a few polished pleasantries.
But then.
Haimer's gaze drifted past the construction site and toward the central district of Orario. Babel Tower soared into the clouds in the distance.
"Speaking of which."
"These past several days since I descended to the Lower World, life here has begun to feel a touch… dull."
"After all, the gods came down to the Lower World in search of amusement, didn't they."
"So I've been thinking — perhaps it's time to stretch my legs a little."
"Before long, I intend to take this rather tedious Familia game…"
"And make it somewhat more interesting."
The moment those words left his mouth.
Royman's handkerchief-hand froze dead in midair.
The flesh of his face gave an uncontrollable quiver.
His mind went blank with a resonant buzz.
Did — did he find Orario not lively enough?
Royman's knees went weak beneath him. He nearly sat down with a thump into the mud-strewn ground. He swallowed a great mouthful of saliva, his throat gone so dry it seemed to smolder, and tottered half a step forward on trembling legs, his voice shaking as he spoke.
"Hai — Haimer-sama…"
"Your — your thoughts…"
"Would — would you perhaps need our Guild to… make some preparations in advance?"
Royman dared not try to dissuade him. He could only venture a tentative question.
Watching the state Royman had been reduced to.
The smile on Haimer's face deepened.
But in Royman's eyes, that smile was enough to make one's blood run cold.
"Don't be nervous."
"That was merely a passing thought spoken aloud."
Haimer patted Royman on the shoulder.
"That's enough for today. There must be a great many matters in the Guild still waiting for you to attend to — there's no need to spend any more time on my account."
And with that.
Haimer turned and walked away toward the edge of the construction site.
Not until Haimer's retreating figure had completely vanished around the corner of the street did Royman finally let his legs give way beneath him, slumping against a rough stone pillar, gasping for breath in great heaving gulps. The expensive bespoke coat on his back had been thoroughly ruined by sweat.
...
Leaving the outer district behind.
Haimer made his way alone back into the bustling streets of Orario.
But as he walked, a peculiar phenomenon unfolded along the road ahead of him. Wherever his gaze swept, pedestrians and adventurers alike peeled themselves to either side, clearing a wide, open lane through the middle of the street without being asked.
No one dared meet his eyes. Most kept their heads bowed, feet quick and purposeful.
Even the shopgirls along both sides of the street — the ones who had always stood at the entrances to beckon him in with warm enthusiasm, and who had not infrequently even thrown a flirtatious glance his way — now shrank behind their counters, making a show of sorting merchandise, not daring to lift their heads at all.
This dramatic reversal laid out in plain sight just how great a shock his march through the city with the Variants last night — and the capitulation he had forced from the assembled gods — had sent rippling through this city.
Haimer paid no attention to the gazes that shrank from him on all sides.
As he walked, he turned matters over in his mind — not only the progress of the Familia's new base of operations, but the growth of his Familia members' strength, and questions pertaining to the System.
Haimer was in the middle of calculating when the next world might fulfill the System's unlock conditions.
Just as he was passing through an intersection.
Haimer's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
His gaze cut through the demi-human laborers hurriedly pushing their carts in front of him.
At the mouth of a slightly narrower alley off to the upper left.
A figure wearing a wide traveler's hat adorned with an orange feather and dressed in light traveling clothes was pressed flat against the wall, moving fast, clearly on the verge of darting around the corner and disappearing into a blind-spot alley just beyond.
"My, my."
"Isn't that Hermes?"
"In such a hurry — are you trying to avoid me?"
The figure's right foot had only just stepped into the shadow of the alley, his upper half still out in the open, when his entire body locked up on the spot.
A full two seconds passed before he drew that foot back, pressed one hand to the brim of his feathered hat, turned around, and arranged his face into a warm, enthusiastic smile.
____
👻🔥P- Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: Jujutsu x Mieruko: Oh no, am I a villain too?
Help us hit our targets:
🎯 100 Powerstones = +1 free chapter for all