Watching how seriously Freya favored Takumi, Alfia frowned. From a mother's standpoint, she ought to be grateful anyone would shield her child so blatantly. But as a woman, she felt a spike of danger—her own main god clearly had eyes on him.
As for Takumi, he was, honestly, a little moved by how hard Freya protected him. Moved or not, though, the truth was obvious: she was thirsting for his body.
Knowing that, he didn't soften his stance or join the Freya Familia. On the contrary, it confirmed that if he signed up now, things would get… difficult fast. To subdue a yandere beauty like Freya, he would have to bring absolute power to bear—enough to suppress her consuming desire.
"Alfia Mom, I'm going to find Meteria Mom first. Bye." With that, Takumi took his leave, heading straight for the Hephaestus Familia's home.
He moved so quickly Alfia didn't even manage to get out a word to stop him.
"Running off like that… and calling my sister Mom without even a reminder… Hmph—am I actually jealous of my own sister?" A touch of displeasure crossed her face; even so, those heterochromatic eyes held far more pampering warmth than pique.
After a breath, she leveled her gaze at Freya, who hovered nearby, wanting to speak. "Freya-sama, say what you wish—but on matters concerning Takumi, I will not yield."
At that, Freya's lips curved in a mesmerizing smile. "At the moment, I only wish to know about Takumi. I love this child, and I want to polish him until he shines brighter."
She laid a hand over her heart; the full, perfect outline rose and fell as if it embodied her overflowing affection. Hearing Freya say the word love made Alfia's brow crease; none of the Familia had ever heard their goddess say she loved anyone.
Her attitude toward her members had always been closer to tools than to lovers. After thinking a long moment, Alfia nodded and invited Freya inside to talk.
Meanwhile, Takumi reached the northwest avenue and found the Hephaestus Familia's grounds—really a network of weapon shops. Racks upon racks of refined arms and armor lined the displays. He had to admit, the sight stirred a faint urge to buy.
Not because he needed them—the problem was he didn't have a favorite weapon at hand.
"If I have to name a weapon, it's just the Boosted Gear gauntlet. When I'm back in the main world, I should snag a few more Sacred Gears to play with." Muttering to himself, he ignored the wares.
Nothing on the front shelves ran under ten thousand valis; the pricier pieces scaled into the millions—gold-eaters, the lot of them. With only a few thousand valis to his name, he neither wanted to buy nor could afford to.
He strode inward. Normally, a nobody would be stopped. But with stealth and a mind-boggling perception range, he slipped past the adventurers and reached the forge where Hephaestus herself worked.
"Without some pull or a lot of skill finding a main god really is hard," he mused, and pushed the door open.
In an instant, the goddess at her anvil filled his sight. Hephaestus swung her hammer—crimson short hair tied into a slender tail; clean, precise features etched sharper in the furnace-light.
The buttons on her white blouse strained as if a careless breath would pop them—her proud chest started at least from an E. A black pencil skirt traced a perfect curve over her round, lifted hips; long legs sheathed in dark stockings ended in heels, everything radiating a heady blend of mature grace and allure. Most striking of all was the right eye that seemed to burn; a dark tracer like eyeliner arced above the brow, a brand of flame.
Their eyes met; a jolt ran through them both. A heartbeat later, Hephaestus snapped back to herself and tugged down her eyepatch. Then she fixed him with a cool, appraising stare.
Catching his flicker of surprise, her expression darkened. "Who are you? I don't have any appointments today."
"Uh… I'm here to find Meteria—and happened to see you, Goddess. Ahem. Also, your face under the eyepatch looked cool as hell. I caught a glimpse by accident, please don't mind."
His straightforward explanation—and that unforced compliment—made Hephaestus blink.
As a goddess, she could separate lies from truth; hearing someone call that eye cool, she froze for a beat. After a small silence, she asked softly, "You don't find my appearance ugly?"
"How could I? You're beautiful, Goddess—especially that fire in your right eye. I actually want to touch it right now." He gave a thumbs-up, plainly itching to try.
Hephaestus rolled her eyes and shooed him with a laughing glare. "Shoo, shoo—my right eye isn't something you can just poke."
The problem with that eye came from the authority she held. She truly governed Forging; Fire was only a secondary authority. Housing two laws at once, she couldn't fully rein in Fire and was wounded by it.
Even after she wrestled it under control, the scarring never healed—black tracer-lines branded her right eye. To perfect gods, such a blemish meant ugliness and shame.
In ages past, every god but Hestia mocked her for it; even her own Familia had been spooked. So she chose the eyepatch, hiding that side of herself.
Takumi's words pierced straight to the softest part of her heart. Unlike Hestia, who accepted her flaw, he regarded it as beauty. To be praised for her face—for the first time—left Hephaestus' thoughts in disarray.
From Takumi's perspective, a single number kept ticking upward—her favorability was spiking. Looked like he'd just prodded the bull's-eye without trying.
He followed through with a rueful smile. "Since I can't touch it, that's a shame. Ah—forgot to introduce myself. I'm new to Orario: Takumi, the adopted son of Alfia and Meteria. It's been a long time since we met, so I rushed over to see her—and ended up offending you, Goddess."
Clear, composed, and sincere—enough to blow away the last of Hephaestus' prickliness.
...
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