Chapter 69:

Years at sea had honed Iris's instincts. Like the ebb and flow of the tide, she could feel the changes in the world around her. This was a skill that Poseidon Familia had pounded into her skull. After all, one could only fight the tides for so long. So, when her instincts spoke to her, she would listen. And she felt it ping, standing at the door to the Hearthfire Mansion. A second before the others did, she felt the presence of Ottarl. His overwhelming aura petrified her, but still, she acted.

Bell was driven. First, to stand at the side of the one he admired most. Second, to protect his friends and Familia from harm. These goals had pushed Bell to impossible heights with a speed and ferocity that few could rival. And Iris was the same. She felt the same desire. The same needs to become even more powerful. For her, though, it was because she wanted to go the distance. To explore farther and fight more than anyone else had. That was Iris' dream. Her brother wanted to be a hero like in the stories of old. She wanted to be an explorer of uncharted horizons.

And just as Bell had gained Argonaut, Iris' desire had given her a skill all her own. Called Entropy, it was the opposite of her brother's powerful strike. Bell's ability gave him the strength to protect those he held dear. Iris could go the distance. She could last longer and take more hits than others at the cost of her mind.

So, when Ottarl arrived in the yard and swung his massive glowing sword, Iris stood behind Gareth. She braced her legs behind him. And as Hildis Vini made the world go white, a small spot of darkness stood in its path.

The Brother:

Bell had barely processed what happened. In one second, he heard Gareth shout a warning. In the next, the world went white, and he felt an explosion of energy. But still, he saw the black spot. And it held as his vision was blinded.

When colour returned to the world and the attack was finished, the March Hare found himself on his back. Everything hurt, but he was surprised that he was still conscious. When Bell picked himself up, his first thought was to look towards his comrades.

Thankfully, his friends were ok. Like him, they had been blown backwards but weren't in much pain. The same could not be said for the rest of the yard, though. Loki Familia's forces had been blown away and knocked unconscious. And the same went for all their allies. Takemikazuchi, Dian Cecht, Hephaestus, and even the fighters from Hecate Familia were out for the count. Gareth, Tsubaki, and Shakti had thrown themselves before Hestia Familia. And the foreigners from the Far East specifically dove on top of Otohime and Urashima.

So, Hestia Familia seemed to still be standing. But the same could not be said for their home. The Manor had been blown apart; the entire top floors were gone. The ground floor only had its foundations, some bits of wall, and a couple pillars. Already, water leaked from the ruined bathhouse. It dripped and ran its way into the mud. And the yard was ruined, all the grass torn up with the fountain in scattered pieces around the grounds.

But Bell forgot about all that for a second. Because his sister was coughing up blood. She was on her hands and knees behind Gareth's still form. He saw the way her body spasmed with every movement. Her white hair, once beautiful and snowy, was dull and gray. Her bright rubellite eyes were like the cold coals of an unattended forge. But still, she smiled when she saw him.

"Saved you again, little bro, you owe me another one!"

Before Bell could respond, Iris collapsed to the ground. He dove forward, catching her head so it didn't smack into the cobblestones. For a second, he feared for her life. Only the faint rising of her chest gave him any hope.

"She protected us," said Ryuu, already by Bell's side. "I saw her stand behind Gareth, a black glow overtaking her body. I don't understand, but she's why we're not unconscious like the rest."

Bell barely registered her words, still cradling his sister's head.

"We must worry about her later," said the elf. "Our enemy stands before us, and he is unstoppable."

There was a grunt; it must have been Welf.

"Otohime, you are still too injured to fight," commented Ryuu. "Go find Lady Wallenstein and Goddess Hestia. Send the Sword Princess here, and then take Hestia to Knossos."

Otohime nodded, scooping up Ura's body as she left.

"Welf, Lili," continued Ryuu. "You will provide support. Hold nothing back."

The smith unslung his magic sword while Lili readied her crossbow. The pallum was muttering under her breath, but Bell couldn't understand. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that his head turned. Welf, as implacable as always, the bedrock of his Familia, looked him right in the eye.

"We'll protect her, Bell; we'll protect them all," he said. "But we need you to stand back up."

Bell breathed. He felt the air go deep into his body. Even if every nerve on his body was fried, he could feel some last pocket of strength deep in his core. He latched onto it and lowered his sister onto the ground, taking care to let her rest. Afterwards, he took Welf's arm in his own. He used it to pull himself to his feet. Hestia Knife in hand, he stared ahead.

"Can everyone hear me?"

It was a voice in Bell's head. He looked over to find Lili, the Dauntless. The prum was looking at Ottar, the King of Orario.

"His left arm is useless, and Lili can see how tired he is," she said. "Lady Ryuu, Mister Welf, we need to buy time. Master Bell, you must charge Argonaut."

Ottar began to walk forward.

"So, we have to try and keep the big guy busy for six minutes?" responded Welf.

Ryuu unsheathed her swords.

Bell chose to breathe. His mind was swirling, but he pushed those thoughts aside. He thought not of the destruction but the heroics. All day, his friends had been fighting for him and all of them. He remembered the words of his mother and father. And he was happy. He had found a family of heroes.

A bell resounded through the streets as Orario's Monster Rex walked forward.

The Goddess:

In the tower of Babel, Freya quivered in ecstasy. Her Odr was magnificent! Even now, he kept walking forward in the face of inevitable defeat! Even if his soul was marred, she would fix him. She would make him perfect again!

The Goddess of Tricksters took this in and felt her lips curl in disgust. This whole day, Freya had shown no guilt. Her face showed no hesitation as she threw her children into the grinder. All she cared about was some perfect idea wrapped in her head. And Loki shivered.

"Come now, my champion, let's see if you can face my monster!"

The Fighter:

In the Hearthfire Manor, Ais had felt the attack coming. She said a single word before it reached her and the Goddess she was protecting.

"Tempest."

And thus, the air protected her. The rocks and debris flew around her like a wave breaking on the shore. When it was over, the blonde pulled back. The Goddess was shaking underneath her.

"He's here then?" she asked.

Ais nodded. "I need to go back."

As she stood, though, Hestia grabbed her wrist.

"Loki…left me a letter," she said. "And in this fight, every point of status counts."

Ais blinked, not understanding.

Hestia sighed. "Every point counts, but you can't get there if you can't update your status. So…yours is unlocked."

That made the Sword Princess still. The wind, which had been gusting around her, died off.

"I'm not going to force you," said Hestia. "I know what I'm asking you… it's more than I should be. But Ais, I need you." The Goddess bowed her head to the mortal. "Please, help my children."

The Girl:

Over a year ago, Ais had failed. She had turned her back on the person most important to her, and now he was gone. Her heart was strangely empty, and even she would call herself a pitiful porcelain doll. Nothing filled the hole in her soul, and her dreams were haunted by the dragon. She dreamt of its massive scales and blazing inferno. First, it incinerated her mother. Then, her father. And on and on the list went, this black creature of dread obliterating all of her new family. The twins, Lefiya, Finn, Gareth and even her mother, Riveria. Finally, the dragon burned her Bell to a crisp. And from those nightmares, she promised herself that she would make it right. Whatever it took, Ais would keep him safe. She would be his hero.

The Hero:

On the battlefield, things were not going well. Bell kept his focus on Argonaut, but it was getting harder and harder for him to ignore the cries of pain. And on the field, it felt even worse.

Welf, Lili, and especially Ryuu were already exhausted. They had spent much of their energy on other foes, and their mind was nearly gone.

"Now, the tri-attack!" shouted Lili.

The pallum fired three arrows of splintering electricity. Ryuu swung her gale sword. Welf blasted a gout of flame from the tip of his blade. The three elements met in the middle. An explosion rocked the world, but Hestia Familia did not heave a sigh of relief. Instead, they braced for a response. And before they could act, he arrived.

The boaz appeared behind Lili. Her hands twitched.

"You are the brain," he said in his rumbling voice. "You are the most dangerous."

With the back of his good hand, he flew into the last remnant of the Manor's walls. But Lili was grinning as she flew. Supporters were used to being targeted, after all.

At Ottar's feet was a sack of bolts. The boaz frowned, and then the explosions followed. Every element that one could think of rang through the clearing. They crashed together, building on their destructive power. But still…it was not enough. The smoke cleared, and Ottarl barely had a scratch from it.

He heaved a great big sigh. "A strong attack. If I was someone weaker, it might have hurt."

Lili frowned from her place on the ground. Everything hurt, and try as she could, the Dauntless could not pull herself up. Everything was pain, all her bones cracking and snapping in response to her efforts.

"Now that's just condescending!"

The boaz looked over, his lips open in response.

Then…the elf attacked.

Ottar's blade flashed upward, blocking one attack. But that was when the second sword came zipping around at her side. With his other arm hanging limply and his left flank exposed, the Boaz pivoted on one foot. But that was only the start. The Faerie Princess took the advantage, rushing forward with a rain of blows.

Her swords cut a path forward, the traces of black and white hanging in the air like afterimages. And in her fury, the boaz was forced backwards. Ottar, the unshakeable mountain, was made to retreat.

Still, though, the elf did not stop. Her body began to glow, and Ottar could hear magic words under her breath. The boaz took a final step back, and then he braced himself.

After all, this was still Orario's strongest. And until the mission of his Goddess was finished, he would not lose. As the elf's glow deepened and her spell built to its crescendo, he began his counterattack. Her strikes were swept aside. From simply blocking her blows to parrying them and then all the way to forming attacks of his own, the mountain rumbled forward. Soon, it was the elf in retreat. And while he admired the defiance on her face, he persisted. And the boaz listened.

Just as Ryuu finished her spell, Ottar grabbed her by the throat with a massive fist.

"You will not die here," he rumbled. "For that is the Goddess's will. But you will speak no more."

And in response, Ryuu smiled. Inside of her, the magical energy continued to build and burn. It swirled around inside of her. And when she could not take it anymore, she continued to let it build. For as much as Mikoto had learned from Ryuu, it was safe to say that she had picked up a thing or two of her own.

And Ottar felt it. He could sense the magic power building. His grip on her throat tightened, hoping to choke her out. But still, Ryuu persisted. She was the Vice-Captain of Hestia Familia, daughter to two Goddesses. On her shoulders was the will of Justice and the Hearth. She was Orario's Gale Wind and its Faerie Princess. She did not cower in the face of monsters.

From her lithe body, a wave of magic blasted outward. It knocked the King off his feet while Ryuu fell limply. Still, while he had been knocked back, Ottar was far from defeated. Even now, he stood back up, the scratches on his body only thin red lines. And while his breathing was deep and laboured, his stance was firm.

"Well, I guess it's just me then."

Turning his head, Ottar looked to his final obstacle. The smith stood by the ruins of what must have been his personal forge. And in his hands were many swords. In their metal were the colours of the setting sun. And as the Bell tolled, the blood of the Crozzos sang.

"Wanna see what happens when I swing a dozen of these bad boys simultaneously?"

Ottar shifted his feet, sword at the ready. He could feel the growl deep in his throat.

"Like everything else, they will not stop me," he replied. "Now swing smith. Do your worst."

Welf swung forward, all his might and concentration on the swords in his grasp. Unlike Lili, who had exploded with every element imaginable, there was only fire for the Ever Burning. Unlike Ryuu, whose attacks exploded everywhere, he was focused. That was the role of the smith. The swords came down like the hammer of the Goddess, and it, like Hell itself, came to the mortal realm.

What little grass was left was vaporized in an instant. The ruins of the Manor's metal fences melted into pools, and the rocks became ash. Welf could feel his hair burn, and his fire-resistant clothes would soon follow. Still, though, the smith held.

Later, stories would be told of this day. A certain bard would write songs that would captivate the world. And it was only then that people would celebrate the name of the Crozzos. Today was the first step towards redemption. It was the first step towards the rest of Welf's life.

But when the swords finally turned to ash and the flames died out, Ottar would still be standing. And the sight of him almost made Welf laugh. They might as well have been fighting the Black Behemoth of legend for all the damage they were doing. But still, it felt good to let loose like that. And as he felt Ottar's fist crash into his sternum, the smith looked at his best friend. By his count, they had only bought him three minutes.

The Witch:

In Babel, Freya licked her lips in anticipation. Her Odr was in her grasp now. And her outstanding servant was going to bring him here. It had been close, that was sure, but she had won. Freya's will was implacable, and her might was overwhelming.

"What now, Loki?" she asked. "No more quips, no more thinly veiled threats, or pathetic attempts to prop up your children?"

Loki sighed. It was deep and profound. She didn't look Freya in the eye; she could only frown. Freya took this as a sign of her victory. Loki just kept her eyes on the battlefield.

"I'm gonna miss you, kiddo…and you only get her for a year, Itty-Bitty!" she shouted, stamping her feet. "Then I get my Aizu back!"

Freya stopped. She had forgotten about the Sword Princess. Mainly because it didn't matter. She had already tried to fight her Ottar and been driven back. Even if she was level seven, she was fresh and new. Ottar was tried and true. It was raw material versus tempered steel. And as the pieces came back together, Freya couldn't help the cackle that escaped her lips.

"That was your final play! That was your big move!" Freya kept laughing. "Truly, you are pathetic Loki. You and Hestia both!"

Loki sighed again. "Maybe, but here, every little bit counts."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Even if it works, I'll still win. I hold the deck, Loki."

Loki ignored the ominous warning. It was only about the fight right in front of them. The only way to do this was step by step, fighter after fighter. It was the only way for them to win.

"Come on, Aizu, you can do this!"

The Mother:

When Oto found her Goddess, she only saw the divine light. Hestia was on top of Ais Wallenstein's back, and there was the telltale blue glow of unlocked potential. Even as Otohime watched, it dissipated. Soon, it was like nothing had happened at all. The Goddess moved to the side, and Ais pushed herself up. She put her clothes and armour back in place and grabbed her weapon. Desperate hung loosely in her hand. Hestia was studying the blonde, her eyes intent and severe.

"Um, excuse me," said Oto, coughing into her hand. "Goddess Hestia, I was told to move you to a safe location."

Hestia nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. Take me to the rooftop with Hephaestus and the others." She reached out to give Ais' hand a squeeze. "You go out there, and you win, understand?"

Ais nodded, her face quietly blank. Blade in hand, she started walking. Oto shifted her grip on Urashima, throwing him over her shoulder. Then, she scooped up Hestia. With the two bodies in hand, Otohime left. And Ais strode forward.

The Lovers:

In the courtyard, Bell braced himself to dodge. Ottar was lumbering forward, obviously cautious of any last-minute traps. But the March Hare knew that it would only last for so long. Eventually, he would be standing right in front of him. And then Bell would be forced to retreat. Again. And he hated doing that. Here he was, a level six adventurer of Hestia Familia, First-Class and known throughout the city, and he still kept falling back. Every time he tried to step forward, someone else came pushing up against him. It was a hard path, and for the first time in a while, he felt truly alone with his greatest challenge in front of him.

Before Ottar could take another step, though, he felt a change in the breeze. The boy couldn't help his smile.

She was there.

Ais Wallenstein's blade appeared from nowhere, piercing past Ottar's guard. She stabbed into Ottar's thigh and then pulled the blade back out. In the haze of exhaustion, Ottar didn't have the time to respond. But he shook it off. After all, it didn't matter how many fighters were thrown his way. He would do whatever it took to enact his Goddess' will.

The two of them began their final bout. Both were tired; Ais was covered in cuts, and Ottar's arm hung limply at his side. And in the next three minutes, Orario's fate will be decided.

Ottar swept his blade in a long stroke, forcing Ais to jump backwards. She flitted across the battlefield, doing her best to find an opening in the boaz's defense. Unfortunately, there was little for her to do. Every time she thrust forward, his blade was there.

The two of them danced like this, with Ottar's blade tracing long and powerful arcs. In response, Ais was thrusting and stabbing, often sneaking past his blocks by the thinnest of margins. If it was anyone else, they would've become a pin cushion. But as it stood, Ottar's defence was as impregnable as ever.

Ais could feel herself get more and more frustrated. The truth was, she was tired of the games. Angry with the way everyone just didn't get it. Couldn't they understand the enormity of it all? And as Ottar stood there, blocking her attacks, the anger turned to rage. And she couldn't help the words that slipped out next.

"Don't you get it!" she screamed. The speed of her blade picked up. "The dragon is coming! It's going to kill us!" The ferocity of her barrage put Ottar on the back foot. "You need to stop! Your Goddess needs to stop! We all need to stop!"

Bell blinked, taken aback by her intensity.

"If you all keep acting like fools, it will burn us down!" Her thrusts found their target. The King began to bleed. "Why is she so stupid!?"

And that was when it happened. Any and all caution that Ottar held disappeared.

The Orphan:

He had been a young child. His parents had been adventurers, and they died in the Dungeon. Zeus and Hera Familia ran the city, but while many would call it a golden age, all Ottar saw was the disgusting underbelly. He witnessed the poverty on the streets and all the orphans left behind. The golden age of Orario saw a dogged push into the bowels of the Dungeon; because of that, death hung heavily in the air.

There were more orphans than orphanages, and many resources that could have been used to help were being funnelled back into the Dungeon. Ottar hated it. He despised the way people obsessed over the Dungeon as if it was all that mattered.

He sat in an alleyway covered in grime and dirt. The future King knew he would be strong. It was what he wanted more than anything in the world. To be strong enough to end the Dungeon. So that no one ever lost their parents like he did. Ottar would be the strongest. He would get to the bottom of the Dungeon. And then, no one would ever need to be strong again.

So, Ottar did what training he could. But as time went on, it became clearer and clearer that he needed to join a Familia. He needed to become one of those horrible adventurers who only thought of themselves. But, of course, no one would take in a sickly orphan boaz. That is…until she found him. A Goddess that had no care about the Dungeon. A Queen who knew what she wanted wasn't afraid to fly in the face of others to get it. And he devoted his everything to her. He would be stronger for her.

The King:

"ENOUGH!"

Ottar roared and swung his massive, injured hand. He caught Ais on the head and sent her flying like a pinwheel. It was a great swing that came with an enormous amount of force. The only problem was that his arm was still injured. The Braver's final attack had shredded his shoulder, and in his rage, Ottar had forgotten this. So, when he swung with all his strength and might, the last parts of his muscles tore. Pushed past their breaking point, it all severed.

There was a terrible sound. It was like when a wolf tore into its prey. It was unnatural but still familiar to those who knew the horror of the Dungeon. The popping and ripping continued, carried forward by the momentum of the Boaz's attack. And Bell heard it happen. He saw the muscles tear from over-exertion.

Ottar, the King of Orario and Warlord of the Dungeon had just lost his arm.

The Queen:

Freya drew in a breath. But still, she smiled. Because her children were so wonderfully devoted. Besides her, Loki looked on in horror and disgust. Not at Ottar losing his arm. But at the joy Freya took from it.

The Warriors:

Back in the yard of the ruins of the Hearthfire Manor, Bell looked on in horror. Not only was Ais hurt, sprawled out on the ground, but he also saw the blood pouring out from Ottar's missing arm. It was a horrifying moment, but still, he held onto the power of Argonaut. He was almost done charging, but there were no more obstacles in the King's path. Ais was still picking herself off the ground, and Ottar had lasered in on him.

Using his good arm, Ottar raised his sword. Bell had a second. And in his mind, he thought of his Familia. Before, when charging Argonaut, Bell had thought of heroes of legend or the great fighters of Orario. Right now, though, he could only think of the people that had stood at his side. The ones he called his family.

The dedicated bodyguard had broken the chains of a Goddess of Beauty in the name of love.

The Princess who had spat in the face of destiny, carving a path all her own.

The half-elf who had died protecting the people he loved and had been stubborn enough to claw his way back.

The elf who stood at his side and protected her friends, who had grown past her vengeance.

The fox that had turned her back on a world that called her dirty and vile, who found the beauty that lay within.

The samurai who had kept her honour in the face of brutality, staying true to what she knew to be right.

The stalwart smith, whose convictions were stronger than any metal found in the Earth.

The pallum tactician, who came from nothing and became something all on her own.

The Goddess that refused to act like her peers, with a heart the size of an ocean.

Bell remembered them all, and he counted his blessings. For he felt truly lucky now. And as Ottar pushed off, his great sword swinging around, the chiming Bell finished. Only a couple meters away, the boy screamed.

"FIREBOLT!"

Pouring all his determination, courage, belief, and ideals into this spell, he lit his soul aflame. A great ball of blinding white light roared forward. And from that attack, Bell saw nothing.

Nothing but a boaz step to the side.

It happened in slow motion. Bell's great ball of flames raced forward, and Ottar pivoted on one foot. Turning his body, the King of Orario dodged the attack of the city's March Hare. And for a second, a bottomless pit of dread filled his stomach. Charging Argonaut to total capacity like this had drained him. He didn't have the mental energy to retaliate, let alone dodge. Everything had been put on the prayer of the Argonaut, and for a moment, he thought it failed. Time seemed to freeze, for the boy thought that this was it. This would be the end of life as he knew it. His Familia would be broken….

"Tempest."

And in a word, the spell broke. The pendulum swang away. On reflex, Ottar pivoted again, bringing his sword around in a guarding position. Bell stood there, forgotten and unable to remove. For in front of him stood an angel on fire.

The wind played around her beautiful golden hair, sending it cascading into the air. Her golden eyes reflected the marble-white flames. Ais Wallenstein held the Hestia Knife with two hands, dropping when Bell charged his attack. She was barely able to contain its inferno. The billowing wind held white flames, a channelling cocoon with Mithril as its core. Bell had done something similar when using move Argo Vesta. But that was clunky and inefficient. With the addition of Ais's wind…, the strike was complete. It was an attack that would live on in the dreams of Adventurers for Millenia to come.

Argo Vesta: Dancing Airiel

The light of the flame was the only way to track her; Ottar began hopping around the lawn. His only hope was to outlast the berserker princess in front of him. But Bell knew better. He knew his idol like he knew his own body. From the crease of her brow to how she stood, Ais Wallenstein would not quit. She was willpower personified. She got closer to her prey every time their feet touched the ground. The Sword Princess was the greatest monster slayer in Orario's history, and she would not let her quarry go.

Finally, when only moments had passed, the sword met flesh. With a beautiful side swing, her whole body adding to its momentum, Ais made contact with Ottar's unprotected side. And the world was turned upside down.

Orario's strongest was sent flying, careening like a porcelain doll. When he landed, he tumbled, rolling backward. Finally, coming to a stop some hundreds of feet away. He made no noise. There were no groans of pain or twitching limbs. There was stillness and silence. And the city held its breath.

Ais went flying, and Bell used the last of the strength in his legs to catch her. The two were a tangle of limbs as they thumped to the ground. Neither were unconscious, but they, too, held their breath.

The King had fallen, and the world held its breath for the Queen's response.

The Charmer:

In the Tower of Babel, the Heretical Beauty grabbed a small contraption from the floor. Loki looked on wearily, wondering if she could somehow push Freya out the window without falling herself. But the Goddess of Grace did not notice. She simply raised the device from the floor to her lips. And from it ran a cord out the room.

Later, Loki would recognize it as the same technology the Guild used for emergency broadcasts.

But for now, there was only a Goddess with blood-red lips and ghost-white teeth. And as the world held its breath, she said two words.

"Wake up."

With the commandment of the Goddess, Freya Familia rose. Like zombies rising from the Earth, they stood by the will of their Deity. After all, what did she care for the physical limitations of the Lower World? She was Freya. Her will was divine. Her demands were law. Such things simply were. The rules that governed the Mortal Realm did not apply to her. So, the children stood. Through creaking and unnatural movements, they rose from the dirt.

A cat dashed through the streets. Elves leapt from rooftops. Pallums bunched together and shambled their way forward. And a boar picked himself up off the ground.

The Sailor:

Ais and Bell saw it happen. They felt the dread set into their very souls. This was the will of the Goddess, and there was nothing they could do. They had played all their tricks, had used all their weapons, and had summoned all their friends. But this was the end.

As a jerking and twisting, Ottar walked forward, eyes rolled to the back of his head; the boy and the girl held hands. They didn't look at each other. They simply took comfort in the other's presence.

"My oh my, what a pathetic little mongrel you've become."

There was a crack like thunder, and the King went flying.

The Messenger:

Hestia had seen it all happen. Otohime had brought her to the rooftop, and standing alongside her fellow deities, she saw the fight that would determine the rest of their lives. The triumphs and tribulations, the highs and lows, and she had felt her soul crash at Freya's final trick. But then, the sound of boots on stone caught her attention.

The Goddess turned to find a messenger. And as he tipped up his hat, all saw his cocksure grin.

"I bring good tidings, my friends!" proclaimed Hermes, arms thrown to the Heavens. "I bring allies to this fight!"

Behind him stood a man with a beard stained with the sea. His skin wasn't kissed by the sun but truly embraced by it. The smell of fish hung on him, and his smile was as beautiful as a pearl.

"I bring with me the man who the Gods deemed the Storm Breaker!" Hermes swaggered forward, gesturing like a prophet given divine sight. "I bring the last of the Great Familia of Orario's Golden Age! I bring the Captains of the Seven Seas! I bring the leader of Poseidon Familia!"

Poseidon smiled down at Hestia and ruffled her hair. She hugged his side.

"My friends, I give to you…SINBAD!"

The Heroes:

In the streets, Bell felt his body relax. He did not know who this man was, but…he was a hero.

Ottar tried to pick himself up, but the man was still there. With his three-pronged trident and the shattering of the ancient cobblestone roads of Orario, he pinned the King to the ground.

"And to think…we all put our hopes in you."

Ottar's puppet body, still pursuing the will of the Goddess, tried to push itself up.

"No, none of that. You don't deserve to keep fighting," said the man.

"Vronti!"

Like a peal of thunder, he spoke. And then the lightning followed. It struck the trident, a great bolt surging into Ottar's body. And as he spasmed, Sinbad spoke again.

"Vronti!"

So enraptured by the power on display before him, Bell almost didn't notice the approaching blur. Allen raced forward, spear at the ready. But before he could shout a warning, the cat-man had been caught. Moving even faster than him, two chienthropes had tackled him to the ground.

"Screaming little pussy cat," said one.

"Scared little pussy cat," said the other.

"How does one run?"

"With broken legs?"

And with audible snaps, the two dogmen crushed Allen's legs. And then they did it repeatedly, surgically and clinically, until there was no way even a level six adventurer could stand on his feet.

And from down on the other side of the boulevard, two elven kings landed near a fountain. Their blades were drawn, ready to jump to their comrade's aid. All for the Goddess.

"Please, don't make me take this too far."

Pipes exploded, and water engulfed them. A woman in shimmering greens and blues stepped out of the shadows, a hand outstretched.

"I can see you trying to mouth off your spells." She twisted her wrist. "An amusing attempt, if nothing else."

The water forced its way into their bodies. Through their mouths, their nose, their ears and puncture wounds, it continued to worm its way in. She was drowning them.

"No need to worry, you won't die. I'm just gonna choke the air from your brain so that no matter what your Goddess commands, you will not be able to respond. You won't even be able to hear it."

And finally, the pallums heard a hearty laugh.

"Diminutive fighters! I love it! What do you think, Callik?" said a man the colour of a crab.

"Possibly fine specimens; this one won't know until they are taken apart, though," replied a man the colour of algae.

Rackham the Red nodded, brandishing his sword.

"So, it's dissection, then? Ach, twas never me strong suit! I'll do me best!"

Callik the Kraken shuffled forward, hammer out.

"No, this one does not think it worth the trouble. Their bodies are already tainted."

Rackham nodded. "Fair enough. Sorry about this me boyos, but the good doctor says you have to go!"

With what seemed a twitch of movement, the dread pirate drew his crossbow and fired. It all happened in a moment. The bolt exploded on impact, and a noxious gas filled the air.

"This one sees they fight as many," commented Callik. "Thankfully, this one is many as well."

There was a shuffling sound, and soon, thousands of little hard-shelled critters came skittering from the ground. Between the poisonous gas and mountain of bugs, the Bringar were soon one and all, buried alive.

"That's paralysis you're feeling," said the Red. "A potent concoction of me own design that combines with me dear friends' friendly critters!" He winked. "It even made the Leviathan pause for a second, so I think you'll be down and out for the count."

The Kraken held up a finger, and on it, a snail slithered. "People always underestimate the little things in life."

And as all this happened, the thunder continued to sing. Bolt after bolt, Sinbad shot Ottar with lightning until the great big warriors' nerves were fried. He did not stop until he was nothing but a twitching bag of muscle.

With a dusting of his hands, he turned towards Bell.

"Well, you must be the brother. Here, let us lend you a hand!"

The Screaming Child:

In Babel, Freya screeched. She fell to her knees, a babbling wreck. All the confidence she had carried but a moment ago was gone. She was but a babbling mess. Tears poured from her face, and her nails tore scratches into her perfect skin. She screamed that it wasn't fair. That nothing was ever fair for her. She hollowed to the moon and back.

"He was mine!" she screamed. "I am Freya, and he was my Odr! No one denies me my destiny!"

Her raving continued, and soon, her palms were bloody from her nails.

"No, no, no, no! It's not fair!" replied Freya to the wind. "I deserve this! I did everything right!"

Her body was heaving with sobs. So tightly did she pull at her head that the famous silver locks began to fall out.

"Odin! You horrible creature! This is your fault! You did this to me! You cursed me like a witch!"

Before she could continue any further, Loki knocked out Freya with a chair in what was probably the first act of mercy that day.