Chapter 113: Chapter 113
High above Babel, inside Freya’s chambers.
The Goddess of Beauty was draped across her chair like she’d melted into it, cheeks flushed, the air around her thick with warmth and something sweeter underneath.
She hadn’t moved in a while because she didn’t want to.
"What a dazzling soul," she murmured, almost to herself. "What a beautiful sight."
The breath she finally let out was long and slow, the kind you take when you’ve been holding it without realizing.
A small, pleased smile settled on her lips.
"Ottar." She turned her head toward the towering figure standing at her side, wearing the quiet pride of someone showing off something precious.
"That speed — what did you think?"
"It was fast," Ottar said. "His strength is real. But if that is all he has, he’s still not my match."
They stood at the highest point in Orario, and with Level 7 eyes, Ottar could pick out any street in the city he chose to look at.
Kiriya’s little display had caused enough noise that of course he’d watched the whole thing.
He felt no excitement about it, no urge to prove himself.
Just that deep, unmovable calm — the composure of the only Level 7 in the city, the King, Orario’s final weapon!
"Is that so?" Freya’s smile widened, and it was genuine. "Then what do you think? Should we bring that child into the fold?"
Ottar dropped to one knee, hand pressed to his chest.
His voice didn’t change, but what lived behind it was absolute. "Give the order, and it’s done."
"Good." She pressed both hands to her still-warm cheeks, looking for just a moment like a girl with a crush she couldn’t quite contain.
"Then let’s hold a banquet. It’s time I met him properly. I can hardly wait!"
"As you wish."
His voice filled the room and settled there.
...
The Pleasure Quarter.
Kiriya pulled his gaze away from the crater — and from what was left of Phryne at the bottom of it, which had stopped resembling anything human-shaped a while ago — and looked at the Berbera standing nearby.
"Remember this," he said with a calm voice. "This is my last warning. If any of you decide to make trouble for me in the Dungeon again—" he gestured toward the pit with a faint smile, "—feel free to come find out what happens next."
Nobody moved.
Aisha and the rest of the Berbera shook their heads fast enough that it was almost funny, the kind of fast that comes from somewhere deep and instinctive, not from thinking.
Because what was there to think about? They had thrown everything at him, all of them together, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat!
They had cracked bones and pride to show for it, but they were still breathing, which meant he’d chosen to let them off easy.
The smart thing — the only thing — was to take that exit before he changed his mind.
Kiriya read the fear in their faces and in the faces of the adventurers ringing the scene. Message received.
That was what he’d come for.
’Time to go.’
But then — clap, clap, clap — a slow, unhurried round of applause cut through the noise, each one deliberate, weirdly crisp.
The crowd rippled apart like water, clearing a path as someone stepped through.
Goddess Ishtar.
As a Goddess of Beauty, she occupied a tier of attractiveness that left most people briefly stupid.
The outfit didn’t ask for modesty and didn’t receive any — a red dress with a slit that went all the way up, one long honey-toned leg on full display, her top a U-shaped strap that seemed to be doing its job mostly out of stubbornness.
She moved like she was always the center of something, and the way she swayed suggested she’d long since made peace with that fact.
The male adventurers nearby had the faraway look of people thinking very hard about nothing.
It wasn’t hard to guess why.
The Ishtar Familia was, with a few exceptions, made up almost entirely of women — attractive ones, at that, Amazons and adventurers with the kind of confidence and experience that rumor had built into legend.
Joining would have been... generously speaking, a lifestyle upgrade.
Half the men watching would have traded places without a second thought.
Ishtar, for her part, wasn’t looking at any of them.
Her eyes were fixed on Kiriya, slow and certain, like she’d already decided how this was going to go.
"Kiriya, was it?" Her voice was low and a little rough at the edges, the kind that made people feel it more than they heard it.
There was something in her gaze that pulled, not quite a trick, but close.
"How about coming over to my side? Whatever Hestia’s little circle has to offer, I promise you — we’re considerably more fun."
She smiled and let that sit for a moment.
"Whatever kind of fun you’re looking for, we can provide it."
Kiriya looked genuinely interested for a beat. "That does sound tempting."
"Doesn’t it?" Something lit up in Ishtar’s eyes.
She stepped toward him and reached out to touch his cheek. "Then come. Join us."
The crowd lost it a little.
The men seethed with envy in the specific, helpless way that comes from watching someone else get something you’ve spent years wanting.
The women — adventurers and goddesses both — were furious for entirely different reasons.
Ishtar was stealing him right in front of them, and she was using her charm authority to do it, which was tacky even by her standards.
But nobody moved.
Adventurers didn’t raise hands against goddesses.
And the other goddesses were wary enough of Ishtar’s charm to know that rushing in without a plan was how you embarrassed yourself.
...
Up in the private room overlooking the street, Hestia had both hands on the window frame and was fully prepared to commit.
"That damn bitch!" She looked two seconds from launching herself into the air, and Hermes barely got his arms around her in time.
"Calm down, Hestia—"
"Let go of me! I’m not going to sit here while she tries to steal Kiriya right in front of my face! If I don’t bite back now, she’ll think I’m some harmless little house cat!"
She was making her fiercest face, which mostly came across as adorable, all things considered.
She bit down on Hermes’s arm until he yelped, and in the moment of distraction, she broke free and was winding up for a full dive out the window—
Then a sharp crack rang out from below.. followed by Kiriya’s voice, cool and flat.
"Daga kotowaru!"
Hestia stopped dead.
So did everyone else.
Ishtar stood there holding her own hand, staring at him.
She was trying to process the fact that this mortal had just slapped her reaching hand away and looked completely at peace with having done it!
"You — why—"
Kiriya stepped toward her, once, twice, each step easy and deliberate.
"The reason’s simple," he said, and his expression had gone cold in the quiet, certain way that’s worse than anger.
"I don’t like people who assume the world moves around them, i also don’t like people who’s full on themself. Telling them no is basically my favorite hobby!"
Comments