Time: Late last night…
Within Orario, the current age boasted two peak powers, the Freya Familia and the Loki Familia.
They were the only two factions with multiple First-Class Adventurers (those at Level 5 and above).
In both groups, First-Class Adventurers weren't just elites, they were the core officers.
Freya Familia's lineup:
1 Level 7
3 Level 6
4 Level 5
Loki Familia's lineup:
3 Level 6
4 Level 5
On paper, both were called the strongest Familias. But in truth, until Loki's officers all advanced to Level 6, Freya Familia's strength was in a completely higher league.
Yet unlike Loki Familia, which operated like a warm and united family, Freya Familia had… a very different atmosphere.
Every officer, without exception, competed fiercely for their goddess's exclusive favor.
Yes, even the big, loyal-looking Ottar wasn't an exception.
Thus, even blood brothers or longtime partners often treated each other as rivals, or enemies.
They only stood united in two cases:
When Freya herself gave the order.
Or when someone dared to insult Freya.
Otherwise, getting them all in the same room was nearly impossible.
But tonight was an exception.
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Folkvangr
If Loki Familia's headquarters was Twilight Manor, then Freya Familia's base was Folkvangr, located in Orario's bustling Seventh District.
At its heart lay a hidden meeting hall known as the Round Table Chamber, accessible only to the eight officers.
Now,
"Ottar, why'd you suddenly call us all here? Don't tell me Freya-sama is finally declaring all-out war on Loki Familia?"
"This time, can I finally split that loud-mouthed mutt in two with my axe?"
"Tch. Doubt it."
The usual atmosphere: one short fuse away from exploding.
Since the Seven Days of Death seven years ago, when the Dark Faction had been crushed, these eight had never gathered together like this.
So no wonder the others assumed some grand movement was coming.
Unfortunately,
"This is a confidential file Freya-sama instructed me to pass on to you," Ottar said. "Read it. Memorize it. Then destroy it."
As the Captain, and the Familia's sole Level 7, Ottar always remained closest to Freya.
It was his role to convey her orders.
Of course, the others didn't like it.
But fists talk louder than words, and Ottar's fists were the biggest.
Even Allen Fromel, The Lady's Chariot, Orario's so-called fastest adventurer, a Level 6 cat-man, and Freya Familia's Vice Captain, never pushed the matter too far.
Not that his mouth ever let up.
Now, Allen took the file first, setting his long spear against his chair. His golden eyes gleamed as he smirked:
"Ottar, you stupid pig, you're getting real good at playing errand boy. But a mere delivery man doesn't deserve to stay by Freya-sama's side. If you can't protect her properly, why don't you roll off that seat already, hmm?"
Ottar barely blinked. He'd heard worse from Allen.
If it came down to it, once this meeting ended, he'd simply punch him through the wall again.
He knew Allen well, despite being a speed-type fighter, Allen never dodged him, never ran.
He'd face Ottar head-on every time, even against a Level 7.
It was reckless, but Ottar respected it.
After all,
Catching a slippery cat is a real pain.
That was Ottar's honest thought. Even he, Orario's mightiest, couldn't afford to underestimate Allen's speed.
================
Just then,
"Hey, sickly cat, how long are you gonna hog it?"
From the opposite side of the round table, one of four small figures sneered.
"It's just one sheet of paper. What are you doing, memorizing it for a year?"
Interrupted mid-thought, Allen's expression instantly darkened, fangs bared.
"…What was that?"
The cat hissed, voice low and dangerous. The killing intent rolled across the chamber.
But the four small figures didn't flinch.
Weapons in hand, spear, sword, axe, and hammer, they radiated killing intent of their own.
The tension thickened like steel wires about to snap.
They were known as the Gulliver Brothers, a quartet of Level 5 Pallum brothers, quads, nearly identical in face, voice, and build.
The only way to tell them apart was the depth of their blue eyes:
Eldest, Alfrigg Gulliver, had the deepest shade.
Second, Dvalinn Gulliver.
Third, Berling Gulliver.
Youngest, Grer Gulliver, the lightest shade.
To the outside world, their name wasn't nearly as famous as Finn Deimne, the Loki Familia's Pallum captain and living legend.
But together, their joint combat arts could trouble even a Level 6.
Enough that not even Allen dared dismiss them, hence their boldness now.
"Look at you. Used to need Freya-sama to stroke your fur before you went into heat. Now just a whiff of perfume and you can't hold back?"
"Really just a horny tomcat. Shame Orario doesn't have a proper vet for neutering."
"And admit it, you sniffed close a few times just now, didn't you? Didn't smell the stink of pig sweat?"
That last jab even dragged Ottar into the insult.
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"Ha… haha… The divine will, supreme and eternal, mocked by shallow fools… My blade… it trembles for blood… Ha… hahahaha…"
"Seriously, Hogni, you don't need to force yourself into the conversation."
At Ottar's opposite side, a dark elf muttered in a feverish tone. His white elf companion calmly pushed up his glasses and cut him off with a sigh.
They were:
Hogni Ragnar and Hedin Selland
Together, known as the Black and White Knights of Orario, both Level 6 magic swordsmen.
Hogni: brown skin, long silvery-lavender hair, eyes burning with fanatic fire.
Hedin: porcelain pale, flowing golden hair, his beauty envied even by women.
Their voices were enough to douse the fire, like a sudden bucket of cold water.
The confrontation between Allen and the Gulliver brothers ebbed away.
No one was eager to fight further.
But Allen, still stung by the fourfold insult, felt as sour as a gamer dragged into a ranked queue with a sabotaging duo partner.
So, though he'd finished reading the file, he refused to pass it on just yet.
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Notes:
Seven Days of Death: A past crisis when the Dark Faction last rampaged, crushed by the top Familias.
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