Far from the combat and dust, Freya's tent remained calm, lighted only by the flicker of arcane light generated by a projection crystal hung in the center of the chamber. The feed looped—slowly.
A single shot.
The world cracked open.
The Black Goliath exploded and then turned to ash, without a scream, without a struggle.
Freya watched from her seat—a curved lounge of black velvet and silver trim. Her expression was unreadable, save for the slight narrowing of her eyes every ti the weapon fired in the replay.
A sharp hum marked the loop's reset. She did not blink.
The tent flap moved.
Luthar arrived without ceremony. Dust still clung to his robes, silent echoes of the battle just ended. The Quake Cannon had long since vanished, reabsorbed into system-space with practiced precision. Yet it wasn't the weapon that drew attention—it was the weight of his presence, pressing into the tent like a second gravity.
"The show's over. "It's ti to go," he said flatly, setting a compact device down on a nearby table.
"I was hoping you'd finish the monster with your axe," Freya replied without turning. "This sends the wrong signal. The adventurers down there—they'll think you only won because of the weapon. Not because you're strong."
Luthar stepped beside the projection. He didn't look at the screen—only at her.
"They can think whatever they want," he said. "I don't have ti to fight Monster for hours just to find its weakness to defeat him. I'm on a deadline." I promised to deliver a new artificial arm in three days."
Finally, Freya turned. Her silver gaze t his.
"What if it happens again?" she asked. "A stronger monster. This ti in the city. And you still want to carry on your research undisturbed?"
Luthar paused. Then, without a hint of humor:
"Then I'll use a bigger gun. Or give Liliruca one."
Silence.
Freya slowly stood, her posture as regal as ever. "After this… many will want your weapons. Up until now, you've only shown off the less dangerous ones."
"Unfortunately for them," Luthar said, turning toward his packed gear, "I'm not selling." I have no interest in dying by my own inventions."
She raised an eyebrow at that—sowhere between amusent and curiosity.
Luthar secured a final case to his belt, his voice steady. "Let's pack up. I want to be back at my church by tomorrow."
"I agree," Freya said, folding her arms. "Sleeping in these conditions is a nightmare."
"Then get outside. I need space to manage things."
She blinked, surprised by the rejection.
"Now," Luthar repeated.
Freya gave him a look, then turned and exited the tent without another word.
Only then did Luthar begin packing in earnest.
The servo-skull hovered beside him, assisting in cataloging and reintegrating gear back into the dinsional array. He worked in silence, swift and thodical.
A few minutes later, the tent flap shifted again.
Liliruca entered, quiet and purposeful. Her weapon was slung over her shoulder, her bag already packed. She gave Luthar a small nod—no words were needed.
Freya rejoined them just as he finished. Together, the three stepped outside into the cooling dusk.
The aftermath of the battle still hung thick in the air.
Bell and the others lay resting near the makeshift shelters, bandaged and worn. The fight had drained them, physically and emotionally. They did not rise and did not speak. They only watched as the trio passed—silhouettes against the smoke-veiled sky.
After offering quiet farewells, the three of them left.
---
As the atmosphere finally began to settle, another disturbance rippled through the air—this one asured, disciplined, and unmistakable.
Boots struck the earth in perfect rhythm.
They arrived as a wall of silence and steel—Loki Familia, led by their vanguard.
Ais Wallenstein erged first, her golden hair windswept, eyes narrowing as she scanned the broken terrain. Behind her strode Bete, Gareth, and the rest—faces grim, weapons drawn but lowered. They had co ready for war.
They found only scorched and broken ground.
"What the hell happened here?" Bete muttered, sniffing the air. Even the usual stench of monsters had been scorched away.
Finn Deimne stepped forward, sharp eyes surveying the fractured battlefield. The trees were gone. The ground itself bore deep cracks still glowing faintly with residual heat. And at the epicenter, the earth was hollowed as though sothing had gouged straight through reality.
"Looks like we're late," Gareth murmured.
"That's your fault. If you didn't talk to , I would have arrived earlier," Ais said quietly.
She knelt beside a smoldering crater, running a gloved finger across blackened stone. It crumbled at her touch.
Riveria joined her, eyes imdiately drawn to the mana echoes still clinging to the air. Her brow furrowed. "This isn't a spell… or not a traditional one."
"Could it be a magic weapon?" Lefiya asked, hesitant.
Finn didn't answer imdiately.
Instead, he turned his gaze toward the distant figures resting by the ruins of the makeshift shelters—Bell, Welf, Ouka, and the others. They looked battered but alive. And shaken.
Finn approached.
"Bell Cranel."
The boy looked up, startled. "Captain Finn…?"
Finn's voice remained steady. "Tell —what happened here?"
Bell hesitated, glancing back toward the direction Luthar's group had gone. He swallowed.
"A monster... a Black Goliath. It spawned. We tried to defeat it, but it kept regenerating. After a while, we couldn't hold it back. Ryuu tried first, then Liliruca. But it wasn't enough."
"Then who defeated the monster?" Finn asked.
"It was Luthar. He destroyed it," Bell said quietly. "First, he fought it with an axe. Then he took out a weapon and fired. One shot. The monster was destroyed at its magic core."
Finn said nothing.
Behind him, Riveria and Gareth exchanged a look. The implications were unmistakable—a power had been unleashed, one potent enough to shake the very foundations of the Dungeon. And it hadn't co from a god, but from a man who walked beside one.
"Where is he now?" Finn asked quietly.
"Gone," Bell replied. "With Lady Freya and Lili."
A heavy silence settled over them.
"…I have a bad feeling about this," Finn muttered, his thoughts already spiraling through the possible consequences of such a weapon—one capable of altering the balance between gods and mortals.
His gaze drifted toward the distant horizon, eyes narrowing as if trying to see what the future now held.
{ Im at my sister's house which ans I cannot write even so I can still upload sa chapter]
User Comments
0 comments from readers