Chapter 205: Banquet of Gods, the Goddess of Beauty is the finale!
At the top of the towering Tower of Babel, Freya stood before a wide glass window, her captivating eyes gazing down at the increasingly radiant soul below.
Even the underground altar, hidden from the eyes and ears of mortals, could not escape the gaze of the Goddess of Beauty.
After all, what entered her eyes was never a superficial appearance.
The unknown of the Lower World was endless, especially as it manifested in that child.
He only needed to leave Orario for a period, and upon his return, his dazzling radiance was enough to make her lose her composure.
"All this time, the children in my eyes have always been imperfect to an incomprehensible degree."
Like other gods, the bored Goddess of Beauty descended from the Celestial World, traveled the world, and has been bound to Orario ever since.
"They would worry, be lost, and be sad over trivial matters."
During this time, the Goddess of Beauty, growing increasingly bored, formed a pact with a girl, regaining her former appearance and name, and donning the mask of a street girl.
"But they would also transform with strong will, a brilliance that unchanging gods do not possess."
The time spent on her once enjoyable role-playing decreased, and the Goddess of Beauty gazed ever more obsessively at that untouchable starlight.
"Now, a child with complex duality has appeared in the Lower World."
"I don't want to become like those male gods, using despicable means to seize what I want."
The Goddess of Beauty raised her hand and gently caressed her tender, fair cheek. In her eyes, which captivated all things, an eerie silver glitter sparkled.
"Let's meet first, my Golden Tear. I can't wait any longer."
…
As dusk deepened, the streetlights cast long shadows of the adventurers, dragging their weary bodies out of the bottom of Tower of Babel.
Arthur, like the adventurers who had fought all day, set off with a pale face to return to Twilight Manor.
The divine teachings in the underground altar of Tower of Babel had drained the last trace of spell power from his body.
Engaging in a clash of ideas with Uranus, who had held authority for billions of years, was no less than a mortal body forcibly bearing a heavenly thunderbolt.
The mystery of Authority tore open a gap in his mind, and as knowledge poured in, it also brought him an immense burden.
In front of the main gate of the headquarters, Loki, covered in soot and with a bruised face, had long grown impatient.
She slapped a stiff invitation card, emblazoned with a wheat ear emblem, onto Arthur's leg, making a crisp sound.
"Change your clothes."
Arthur casually took the invitation, glanced at it, and saw the emblem of the Dionysus Familia.
"Ask someone else. I'm not interested."
"Dionysus will be there too."
Loki stopped Arthur's steps, who was about to go upstairs, with just one sentence.
She curled her lips, revealing a sly smile.
"Dionysus and Dionysus are very close; he would never miss a banquet hosted by the other."
"Weren't you always wondering if that pretty boy was trustworthy? Why don't you confirm it with your own eyes?"
Hearing this, Arthur's gaze sharpened.
His suspicion of Dionysus had never diminished, not even slightly, due to the latter's impeccable anger and hatred.
"You're actually that considerate? I bet Ais and the others rejected you, so you're dragging me along as your dance partner, aren't you?"
"…Less nonsense! You're an important child of ours, and it's your duty to accompany your head god to a banquet!"
Loki, with an unconvincing but forceful demeanor, stuck out her neck and pulled out a brand-new light-colored tuxedo from behind her, throwing it over.
"Hurry up! Don't make the prey wait too long!"
…
By the time the carriage stopped outside the Dionysus Familia's estate, rich with natural ambiance, the night was already deep.
The gods, dressed in opulent attire, brought their proud Familia elites, chatting and laughing amidst the dazzling sea of stars formed by magic stone lamps.
Arthur slowly adjusted his breathing, forcibly suppressing the faint hum in his mind.
The excessive consumption of spell power had made his movements sluggish, and this was not something that could be recovered by just sitting in a carriage for a while.
Loki, dressed in a black evening gown, maintained a rare ladylike posture. She held a wine glass, scanning the entire hall with the corner of her eye.
"There are so many people, all familiar faces, idlers who eat for free."
"After all, the lives of gods are mostly monotonous; any banquet is one of their few entertainments."
Arthur took a wine glass from the waiter's tray but did not drink, merely using the clear liquid to observe the myriad expressions of people under the distorted light and shadows.
He was searching for Dionysus.
"Oh? Isn't this Loki? How rare; you actually came to a banquet in a gown?"
A gentle and elegant voice, tinged with teasing, came from the side.
Dionysus, holding a glass of red wine, slowly approached.
Behind him, Filvis was still in her tightly wrapped Saintess attire, completely out of place with the banquet atmosphere, her eyes vigilantly watching her surroundings.
Dionysus's flawless handsome face wore a smile like that of a wealthy prince. He first raised his glass to Loki in greeting, then his gaze turned to Arthur.
"A pleasure to meet you, Holy Sword User. I've heard much about you."
Loki snorted coldly and interrupted without ceremony.
"If you have something to say, just say it. Stop with these inexplicable noble airs."
The gazes of several gods nearby were drawn to them, watching with interest.
Dionysus shrugged indifferently. He raised the glass of deep-colored red wine and sighed softly.
"I truly envy you and Freya. After all, how many heroes leave their names in history?"
"To the hero!"
Dionysus raised his wine glass high, his eyes looking at Arthur filled with genuine admiration.
Indeed, as Loki said, it was a gaze without falsehood.
Yet, in his heart, not a single shred of trust in Dionysus had formed, and a smile involuntarily appeared on his lips.
"Lord Dionysus's praise, I have no reason to refuse."
Watching Arthur drink calmly, the composure on Dionysus's face seemed to stiffen for a moment.
Something shattered deep within the god's clear, Colored Glaze-like eyes.
He looked at Arthur, then at the wine glass in his hand, and immediately resumed his smile, though the smile no longer reached his eyes.
"By the way, Loki! Let's set a time to chat later?"
Loki, knowing what the other party was hinting at, gulped down her drink and busied herself with picking various delicious dishes.
"Not now. I messed up our vacation trip, and the children haven't recovered from the fatigue of the last expedition. Wait a bit."
A hint of disappointment flashed in the depths of Dionysus's eyes, but his smile remained undiminished as he was about to speak.
Just then, the clamor of the banquet hall came to an abrupt halt.
The gods felt as if an invisible hand had choked their throats; starting from the entrance, the sounds died down layer by layer, moving inwards.
It wasn't because the music stopped, but because an
The gods unconsciously stopped talking, their gazes fixed on that figure, lost in a hazy trance.
Her silver-gray hair was like a waterfall woven from moonlight, and her black and red dress boldly outlined curves that would make even gods lose their minds.
The Goddess of Beauty, Freya, made her grand entrance.
She ignored all the fervent gazes directed at her, and she ignored the welcome from the host, Dionysus.
The goddess's gaze pierced through all obstacles, directly landing on Arthur by the dining table.
In her eerie silver eyes, there was no longer the obsession of gazing at the stars, but the focus and fanaticism of a hunter locking onto prey.
The Goddess of Beauty's red lips parted slightly, her voice not loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of every god present.
"My Golden Tear."
"Are you ready to belong to me?"