by Fujino Omori
“Mikoto, you are the most physically suited to learn ninjutsu out of everyone. However, you don’t have the right mind-set.”
At the time, her god had already trained her in how to use many weapons and in styles of hand-to-hand combat, so the time came to train her in the ways of the ninja.
“Listen well, Mikoto. Ninjutsu is…dirty.”
“D-dirty?”
“Yes. A ninja is not picky about the methods used to complete the mission.”
Mikoto had been sitting on her heels, sweating in the humid air as she listened to her god say these things as though it was common sense.
“Sneak attacks, ambushes, traps…A ninja uses every option, any means to reach their goal. So, to be blunt, someone as straightforward and honest as yourself might not have much use for it.”
Even so, Takemikazuchi taught her everything he knew. Once they came to Orario, Mikoto distinctly remembered Takemikazuchi telling her while smiling to himself that she was much more suited to be an adventurer.
She truly missed being around him. His calming smile at the forefront of her mind, Mikoto took a deep breath and used the image to calm her nerves.
She was using Bell’s Ushiwakamaru in place of the katana that was broken in the Dungeon. She also borrowed his item pouch and filled it with everything except the potions she had liberated from their enemy.
Feeling light as a feather, she nodded to herself.
“Sir Bell, I would like to confirm the plan one last time.”
“Of course,” said Bell as he kneeled in front of her.
“According to the scrolls I read, the ritual must be performed when the full moon first reaches its brightest peak, approximately eight o’clock tonight. Location will be at the top of one of the palace towers, an area called the Floating Garden…but please ignore that last piece of information.”
Mikoto proceeded to explain the Killing Stone Ritual, including the time limit and other details. She glanced up at the clouds blocking the full moon from view, knowing they were almost out of time. “There will be no ploy,” she said before explaining the attack plan.
“First off, Sir Bell will garner the most attention, break into the palace, and cause a diversion…”
“While Miss Mikoto rescues Miss Haruhime.”
Bell echoed their simple plan before Mikoto could finish. However, her eyes were clouded with concern.
“This may be our only option…But are you certain, Sir Bell? All danger falls squarely on your shoulders.”
Bell knew full well that if he was drawn into combat, countless more enemies would swarm in in an attempt to overwhelm him. Clearing his throat, he simply said, “I’ll do it.”
“…Give me twelve—no, ten minutes. I will find Lady Haruhime and get her to safety.”
Bell’s ruby-red eyes locked onto her dark-violet gaze; both shone with the light of determination.
Seeing Bell’s conviction empowered Mikoto with even more courage and resolve.
“…Lastly, what we should do should our plan fail.”
Neither of them wanted to talk about it, but Mikoto knew they had to cover all bases.
Bell lent her his ears, his expression just as serious.
“Once I have made contact with Lady Haruhime, I will send up a flare. Green if I’ve succeeded, and red if—”
“Not…and in that case…?”
“…We break into the most heavily guarded area in the enemy stronghold and destroy the Killing Stone. That’s our only choice.”
It wouldn’t solve the problem of Ishtar Familia acquiring another Killing Stone, but it would buy them time, as well as cancel tonight’s ritual.
“Should it come to pass, improvisation will be necessary…One of us will need to draw attention while the other breaks the stone. I believe that is all we can plan for at this time.”
Bell had no objections to Mikoto’s plan of attack. Every item necessary for the ritual was set in the Floating Garden, waiting for the moonlight. The location of the ritual could not be moved at the last minute. Their plan in place, the two humans exchanged one final nod.
“Well then, Sir Bell…May the tides of battle flow in your favor.”
“You, too, Miss Mikoto. Take care of Miss Haruhime.”
Then they split up.
Emerging from their dark side path, Bell and Mikoto moved out to get into their respective positions.
Careful to evade the eyes of Amazons and prostitutes alike, Bell made his way to the front gate of Ishtar Familia’s home. Staying just out of sight, he eyed the front gate and weighed his options.
“…”
Well hidden in the shadows of a nearby brothel, Bell took a knee and looked at the palm of his right hand.
Bell knew exactly who might show up—Aisha, the Berbera, and, of course, Phryne.
As for what to do when that Level 5, top-class adventurer appeared, he had no clue. Of all the scenarios that played in his head, not one of them ended in victory.
Bell glanced at the rest of his body. Light armor completely destroyed, only a layer of cotton protected his skin. BA-DUM BA-DUM. The thumps of his heart banged against the inside of his chest.
“This is all I’ve got…”
Ring, ring. Bell whispered to himself as soft chime sounds echoed and points of light started swirling around his right arm. He focused as hard as he could and bit down on his lip.
More light started to gather in the palm of his hand. But would it really hit his target? Would he even be able to charge it in time to use in battle? Even more questions surged into Bell’s head. Shaking it from side to side, he ignored the voices and clenched his fist.
I have to make it work, he said to himself as even more of the specks of light slipped into the center of his fist between his clenched fingers.
A heartbeat later, Bell jumped out of the shadows.
“Wha…?!”
“Little Rookie?!”
He could clearly see the golden palace and the front gardens beyond the main gate, as well as the stunned faces of all the Amazons who had been assigned to protect it.
None of them had even considered the possibility that he would come to their home base on his own. Panicking, each of them reached for their weapons or turned their backs to sound the alarm.
Bell thrust his right arm forward before any of the Amazons were able to get very far.
Ten-second charge.
A small bell sound rang out, signaling the start of the battle as the boy roared at the top of his lungs:
“FIREBOLT!!”
The pillar of white light accompanied the thunderous roar of a flaming lightning bolt.
The front gate of the palace was utterly destroyed in the ensuing explosion and every single one of the guards was launched skyward.
Screams and shrieks rose into the air, along with an enormous amount of smoke. Bell charged forward, right through it all.
Running as fast as he could, he quickly reached into his leg holster and withdrew two potions he’d received from Mikoto: a high potion and a high-mind potion. He downed them both in one gulp and discarded the empty vials in one swift motion. Emerging from the smoke, Bell raced up the front steps of the palace and into the building.
The mission to save one girl was now officially under way.
“You wanna explain that explosion?”
Greatsword balanced on his shoulder, Welf yelled at the two Amazons.
Everyone in the area was looking at the mushroom cloud rising from the middle of the third district. Even Hestia stopped glaring at the guards the moment the explosion reached her ears.
Lilly ignored the sudden chaos and used the opportunity to press the Amazon roadblock.
“There’s the undeniable proof!! That explosion was caused by Mr. Bell’s Firebolt!”
“Out of the way!”
The Amazons knew there was no way Lilly and Welf could discern a type of Magic from this distance, but they also figured out there was no way to prove them wrong. Snapping
their tongues in frustration, the two drew their weapons in earnest.
“So what if it was? You trying to start a war?”
“We’re Ishtar Familia!”
Lilly hesitated for a moment, the reality of her actions hitting home—a mountain of a shadow passed over her.
The enormous man reached out and grabbed the closest Amazon by the throat, lifted her up, and threw her to the side.
The other guard was just as surprised as the thrown Amazon, watching her ally tumble down the stone pavement. Then she looked up at a pair of furious human eyes honing in on her. The massive human, Ouka, took another step forward and said only one word:
“Move.”
Ouka had had enough of standing idly by while Mikoto and Haruhime were in danger. His decisive action inspired the rest of Takemikazuchi Familia to draw their own blades and prepare for battle. Ouka unhooked his great ax from his back and led the party of humans from the Far East into a line of red-faced Amazons.
“Everyone together!”
“Ha-ha-ha, that’s what I’m talking about!”
Welf laughed and joined their formation as Ouka led the opening charge. The battle had officially begun.
Lilly loaded her bow gun and surveyed the battlefield. Orario’s third district had become the stage for the opening acts of an all-out war.
“So it came to this after all…!”
“There was no time, couldn’t be helped.”
Welf and Ouka were powerful Level 2 adventurers, but their enemies had the advantage of numbers. Hestia watched the events unfold and sighed to herself, thinking that the situation couldn’t be helped. She followed after Takemikazuchi and entered the street her allies had forcibly broken into.
—If there was a true beginning to all this…
It started with one-sided animosity.
Ishtar hated Freya from the moment the two Goddesses of Beauty first met.
It could have been something as simple as a sibling rivalry, or perhaps it was caused by jealousy, wanting something she did not have. But in the end, she despised Freya to the point that she had tried to topple her many times.
On the other hand, Freya didn’t have a strong opinion of Ishtar at all.
She would laugh off all the “provocations” and enjoy watching Ishtar retreat with every failure. That was the only time Freya ever paid any attention to her, so she didn’t care one way or the other.
She didn’t know if her indifference came from her power, fame, or influence.
Freya had reached the summit of Orario, undisputedly second to none. Meanwhile, Ishtar’s rise had stopped at becoming queen of the debauched streets and districts in the metropolis.
Freya’s name had spread like wildfire. Her followers were wrapped in fear. It was said that her beauty was unequaled throughout the world—and other nonsense like her charms could turn heaven and earth on their heels. The claims and compliments for Freya never halted.
This was the moment when she laughed at the jealousy of other goddesses.
That’s when and why black flames surged within that glare of animosity, or perhaps it was destined to happen this way no matter how events came to pass.
However, if there was one thing that could be said…
The difference between the two Goddesses of Beauty, Freya and Ishtar, it was—
“My Lady.”
The voice of her trusted follower pulled Freya’s eyes away from her own reflection in the wineglass she was holding.
She placed the glass on a circular table at her side. Ottar took that as his signal and approached her.
“Allen has submitted a report. Ishtar Familia abducted Bell Cranell and is behaving suspiciously…Also, an explosion in the Pleasure Quarter occurred moments ago.”
Freya stood up from her chair before Ottar had completely finished his sentence.
“The entire familia has been assembled, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Issue a decree.”
“Then your will is set.”
“It is. Ishtar crossed the line.”
Freya’s voice was cool, calm, and collected. Her silver eyes narrowed as she spoke.
“All her little jokes were laughable until now. But this…No. I won’t allow it.”
Ottar watched Freya take a step away from her table—and then he turned to address a large crowd.
“To arms! Our goddess desires glory on the battlefield!”
All her warriors had gathered and were standing at attention in the main chamber beneath her throne. The sounds of marching boots filled the room as her followers filed out in ranks.
They readied their weapons of choice and moved out, wasting no movement. Their discipline was evidence of their deep-seated loyalty.
Without even a whisper of idle chatter, the household warriors assembled outside on the grounds of the silver fortress, Folkvangr. It was so organized it seemed as though they had practiced and arranged the movements beforehand.
Numbering well over one hundred, every one of them was ready to carry out their goddess’s bidding.
“…Deplorable.”
Following the last of the echoes through the hallways, Ottar escorted Freya out of the building.
Caught off guard by his goddess’s sudden utterance, Ottar responded in a hushed voice:
“What is?”
“This turn of events.”
Ottar frowned but kept walking.
Freya didn’t notice. She shrugged to herself as the two of them arrived at the front door of their home.
“I, too, shall head out. We leave as soon as preparations are complete.”
Belit Babili was overrun in a flash by loud, angry voices.
“Intruders!”
“How many?”
“J-just one, the Little Rookie! He charged the front gate!”
Bell could hear all the Amazons shouting orders, caught glimpses of them pointing him out to their kin as he raced through the palace.
Making his way toward the center, he could see a tower, similar to Babel, rising toward the heavens. The base of the looming structure was composed of many long, wide floors. Bursting out of the outer ring and into the courtyard, he raced toward it and entered the first floor. Everything from stairwells, to pillars, to spaces between stones became his route to higher and higher floors up the inside of the tower.
“STOP HIM—!”
A large group of fully armed Berbera was in hot pursuit.
Bell immediately changed course whenever he caught a glimpse of anyone in his path. Wave after wave of arrows relentlessly rained down from every direction but, at the same time, gave him the best indication of where to run.
If I stop now, it’s all over…!
This was the enemy stronghold. He had to avoid hundreds of warriors on his own.
If he lost even a step, a single second in combat facing any one of them, the rest would catch up and he’d be forced into a fight he could never win.
Flashes of his enemies zoomed by every corner of his vision. Bell knew he couldn’t allow any of them to get close.
“Firebolt!”
“Ughhaa!”
He fired multiple rounds of his magic without breaking stride.
Spell chants—time to prepare magic abilities—were unnecessary with Bell’s Swift-Strike Magic. The Amazons had no answer for a ranged attack that was faster and stronger than their arrows. They were either blown backward or stayed out of range, which meant they couldn’t get close enough for a blade or fist.
Trying to carefully avoid hitting the noncombatant prostitutes he could see huddled up in fear in the hallways and chambers as he passed through, Bell aimed his Firebolt at any enemies, ceilings, and floors he could reach. Thunderous flames rained down within the central tower as Bell tried to cause as much chaos as possible.
“Loose!”
“Whaa?!”
Bell had just turned off a hallway onto a stairwell only to be greeted by a group of ten Amazonian archers with their arrows at
the ready.
The twangs of their bowstrings rang through the stairwell as the arrows were launched before Bell had time to call forth his magic. While he was able to deflect most of them with his Hestia Knife, the awkward swing made him lose his balance and he fell back down the stairs.
There was no time to recover; the next round of arrows was already on its way. Rolling out at the last instant, Bell caught a glimpse of the ten Amazons as each of them drew swords and jumped down the stairwell. Even more were coming from either side of the hallway. He immediately charged under the jumping Amazons, past the stairwell, down the hallway toward a window, and dived into it headfirst.
“He’s outside!”
Breaking through the glass, he felt cool night air envelop his skin.
The moon was still partially hidden by cloud cover. Bell landed on the awning of the window below and used another to continue his ascent up the tower.
One window after another was shattered as the Amazons followed the agile rabbit outside and up the tower. They weren’t giving him any breathing room.
It hasn’t even been—three minutes?!
Beads of sweat flew off his skin. His lungs labored for breath. Even more dark shadows were on his tail. Bell decided now was the time to take the third potion out of his leg holster.
His heart beating so hard that his chest might implode at any second, Bell urged every muscle to keep firing. Feeling the effects of the potion kick in, Bell discarded the empty vial without losing a step. He kept drawing their attention, trying to get away while making as much noise as possible.
The evening lights of the Pleasure Quarter spreading out beneath him, Bell continued to lean on the one thing he knew surpassed the Berbera: his speed.
“Sir Bell, you have my gratitude.”
—Meanwhile, on the complete opposite side of the palace…
Mikoto slipped into a window on the backside of Belit Babili completely unnoticed. Many guards had been pulled away from their stations. Even the patrols on the inside were much less frequent. No one could catch Bell, their original target. The only choice was to corner him with numbers. And those numbers had been pulled from the patrols.
Words of gratitude and apology on her lips, Mikoto moved swiftly and silently through the hallways. She hid in the shadows the moment approaching footsteps revealed the location of enemy warriors. Three or four groups of Berbera went past her without detecting her presence. At last, Mikoto came upon a single Berbera. She sensed the same spiritual pressure in the Amazon as herself, another Level 2.