The cacophony of monster roars ripped through Orario as they poured through the shattered remains of collapsing buildings. Within the makeshift shelters, the city’s residents teetered on the precipice of despair, the earth trembling with the thunderous march of an army numbering in the thousands. Their home was being desecrated, while on the other side, triumphant shrieks echoed. "Hah-hah-hah-hah! Ain’t that a beautiful sight?! Now this place has really become hell!" Valletta gloated, her comrades reveling in the monsters' advance. The sight of the invading horde signaled the downfall of their hated enemies. She watched with wicked glee as the beasts swarmed the embattled adventurers. "Let me see you cry! Let me see you break! Let me see you die! In the end, I’ll be the last one standing!!" "Th-this can’t be happening… monsters, here in Orario, the bulwark of the entire world?!" Royman, his face drained of all color, stammered from his vantage point atop Guild HQ. Finn, responded with unnerving calm. "It’s the obvious move. If I were in Valletta’s position, I’d do the exact same thing." "Wh-what?!" Royman exclaimed. "Valletta’s job is to cause mayhem and destruction. Monsters are the perfect pawns. She simply lured them into the city, and they can take care of the rest. This is why they wanted to occupy the walls," Finn explained, his gaze fixed on the unfolding chaos. He understood better than anyone that while the evilus lacked the individual combat prowess of Orario’s many upper-class adventurers, sheer numbers were a potent weapon. Raul and Royman, however, were taken aback by Finn’s chillingly rational deduction. Royman, his face flushing, erupted. "I don’t believe you, Mr. Deimne! You knew this all along and did nothing to prevent it?! Why?!" "Don’t be ridiculous, Royman," Finn replied, not turning. "You know full well it would’ve been impossible to protect the gates. Attempting to do so would have meant Babel and the five strongholds falling instantly." His keen eyes continued to scan the city, analyzing every variable. "It doesn’t matter if our enemy destroys the gates, the walls, or even the city itself. We can always rebuild, just like our ancestors built this city before us. Don’t forget our priorities. We must defend Babel to the last. Failure is not an option." His cold calculation, his rational choice, silenced Royman. Even he hesitated to speak carelessly in the face of Finn’s determination. "B-but even so!" he finally stammered. "The city is almost in ruins as we speak! Do you have any idea how much it’s going to cost to repair if things get any……" A guttural roar, much closer this time, cut him off. "That’s enough, Royman. The enemy is coming. Go back inside." "Grr…! Listen to me, Mr. Deimne! You had better win this war, you hear me? If you don’t, I’ll have some stern words for you!!" With a final, bureaucratic outburst, Royman disappeared into Guild HQ as the monstrous roars intensified. Finn’s gaze never left the battlefield. "Of course we will," he muttered, his voice barely audible, now speaking only to himself. "That’s what we’re here for." His azure eyes swept over the streets below, where the initial exchange of magical barrages, arrows, and breath attacks was drawing to a close. Waves of monsters and cultists descended upon the city’s strongholds and the adventurers who defended them. Due north of Babel, in the fortified Loki Familia home, Dyne, Bahra, and Noir stood ready. Noir and his fellow adventurers, defying Finn’s orders, had refused to leave the surface. "Here they come…" Noir murmured. Their reasoning was simple: without suitable leaders, and with Finn occupied at HQ, someone needed to hold the line. Reluctantly Finn had to agree, hoping that Riveria, Gareth, the Astraea and Bahamut familia can manage. In the south, amidst the ruined shopping district, Falgar stood within the famed Casino, gripping his weapon, his center of gravity lowered. Dozens of Berbera stood at his side. "Let them come!" he roared. To the east, Allen’s eyes burned with a murderous rage. "…I’m gonna turn you all into mincemeat!" he snarled, launching himself at the approaching enemy. The city’s spear closed the distance rapidly, but just as the two forces were about to collide, the distant echoes of battle from the Beol mountain range reached the city, accompanied by the terrifying roar of yet another monster wave. ………………………………………………………………………. The gruesome death cries of monsters, intermingled with the ceaseless clash of steel, carried through the walls of the Casino. All lights were extinguished, and civilians huddled together in the oppressive darkness. "It…it’s begun!" one whispered. "The fighting’s so close…!" From time to time, tremors shook the building, making it lurch like a ship on the turbulent seas. The sounds of rampant violence filtered in from outside. The waves of the evilus were the stormy seas, the monsters the tumultuous skies, and the adventurers, the brave sailors at the helm. Below deck, the citizens of Orario could only stifle their screams, praying that the very hull of their city would hold. "Waaah! I’m scared!!" The cries of children were a mournful echo of the adults’ suppressed fears. Then, a woman placed a reassuring hand on a crying girl’s head. "It’ll be okay. The adventurers will protect us." This woman, who had lost her own daughter to the horrors of war, had also witnessed the saving grace of the Hermes and Astraea familia during the fourth night of the conflict. "W-will they really?" the child asked, her voice trembling. "Yes. Because no matter how many times they fall down…they always stand back up." The woman’s faith in the adventurers was dazzling. The girl, momentarily frozen, saw it in the bereaved mother’s eyes, heard it in the strength of her voice. After a short while, she managed to suppress the lump in her throat. Tears still in her eyes, she looked up at the woman and nodded. A gentle smile touched the woman’s lips. From a short distance away, a man watching them suddenly yelled towards the ceiling, "Stay strong…stay strong out there! We’ll stay strong in here, too! We believe in you!!" His words resonated with everyone present. Across the hall, hands clasped in prayer, people thought of their saviors. Outside, as if answering those prayers, adventurers let out wild yells. They fought with determination, defending the civilians’ refuges: the Casino, the Twilight Manor, the Arena Guild HQ, and the Ganesha Familia home. They stood on rooftops, pelting the monsters with projectiles, while simultaneously warding off the evilus with blade and shield. Any who fell, friend or foe, met a grisly end in the jaws of the mindless beasts below. Blood and war, fiends and chaos. This, surely, would be the state of the world today had Babel not been built to seal the monsters deep beneath the earth. …………………………………………………………………………………………………… The screams of a beastlike man echoed, a deafening tide that made both the evilus and the adventurers shudder. This was not the sounds of mere ordinary mortal, but of something…….something terrifying. The source of this primal fury was a cat-man, a creature of impossible speed who had earned the chilling title of the city’s fastest. “Drop dead, you piece of shits,” he snarled, his voice a low growl that promised oblivion. Allen Fromel, they called him, and he was a whirlwind of destruction, a one-man army, armed with a silver spear. He moved like a capricious kitten, except a kitten that could shred its prey with a single, brutal blow.  Thıs text ıs hosted at 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱 His speed was his weapon, allowing him to strike from the front or back before his enemies even registered his presence. Flee or fight, it made no difference. They were all destined to be trampled beneath the relentless advance of Vana Freya, the chariot of the gods, a metaphor for his unstoppable momentum. Even the mages, poised to unleash their arcane fury, found themselves outmaneuvered. Before their spells could even form, Allen’s spear had impaled the suicide bombers. He was already a distant blur, far beyond the blast radius, where a chain of crimson flowers bloomed across the battlefield. “Wh-whoooooooaaaaaaahhhh!!” The shock was palpable, voiced by adventurers on his side who could barely comprehend the spectacle. Allen’s high-speed assault didn’t allow for the luxury of detonation; he was through them before they could even trigger their own demise. Allen was defending the Arena, a vital sector in eastern Orario, a region expected to bear the brunt of enemy incursions, much like the northern districts. Here, however, it had become his personal hunting ground, the place where the warrior with the city’s highest body count reveled in his grim harvest. Many of Freya’s devoted followers, reinforced by adventurers from other familias, stood with him, a bulwark against the encroaching darkness. They fought to shield the terrified civilians huddled within the stronghold. Bolts of fire and lightning rained down upon anything that dared approach the walls, while the warriors formed an unyielding wall of steel, their axes and blades a symphony of defiance. As Allen and his brethren from Orario’s most prominent familia’s continued their brutal dance, their allies cheered them on. Those cheers, carrying the weight of their hard-won success, reverberated across the city, reaching Guild HQ. There, a single pallum, smiled faintly. “Nicely done,” he murmured. The Freya familia’s relentless efforts on the eastern front were a beacon of hope, steadily bolstering the coalition’s morale. Once the current wave of attackers was utterly annihilated, a member of the Freya familia, a junior adventurer, shouted across to Allen from the battlements, her voice tinged with apprehension. “M-Mr. Fromel! You’re straying too far forward! Wh-what about defending the stronghold…?” Allen’s reply was as sharp and swift as his spear. “That’s your job. I’m here to run people over. That’s all.” His strength lay in his solitary fury. Staying too close to his allies would only endanger them, trapping them beneath the unstoppable juggernaut of his assault. Normally, Hedin, the white elf, would be tasked with reining him in. But with Hedin occupied elsewhere, Allen was free to pursue his own destructive path. His current mission, he believed, was to sow chaos among the enemy ranks, disrupt their formations, and plug any critical gaps in the defensive line. He sneered at his junior. “You need a first-tier adventurer to wipe your ass for you? Don’t tell me you still got cold feet.” The accusation stung. Allen’s words, devoid of any conventional encouragement, struck home. He leveled a sharp gaze at his female beast-kin junior. “You heard that pallum asshole’s speech, right? There’s nothing left to lose. Those bastards took it all from us.” The junior snapped to attention, her fear replaced by a grim resolve. The other defenders, galvanized by Allen’s brutal honesty, threw themselves back into the fray with renewed ferocity. Allen, meanwhile, paused. His gaze drifted, for a fleeting moment, towards West main street, towards a certain tavern. A tavern that held the only other cherished person, besides his goddess. “I got nothing left to lose…” he repeated, the words tasting like ash. “But if you’re going to try stealing from me anyway, then you’ll get what’s coming to you.” The thought, sharp and possessive, he pushed aside. Then, with a renewed surge of energy, he dashed off once more, disappearing into the maelstrom of battle, towards the enemy lines. …………………………………………………………………………………………………… “Look at them, actually putting up a decent fight,” Valletta murmured, her voice a low purr that barely disturbed the wind whipping around her. “Finn had to know this was coming.” A gentle tap, and her boots landed precisely on the rooftop. Her fur-lined coat, a sweep of rich crimson, billowed around her as she surveyed the war-torn city. She’d descended from the upper walls into the southwest trading district, establishing a temporary forward base atop the tallest structure, granting an unhindered view of the unfolding chaos. “What a shitty little hero… I put all this work into surprising him, and he doesn’t even blink!” A malicious grin stretched across her lips as two of her subordinates scrambled towards her. “Ma’am!” one exclaimed, breathless. “All units are now engaged! We have a report regarding the enemy formation!” “They seem to have concentrated their forces in five key locations!” the other added, their voice tinged with a nervous haste. “We haven’t spotted any adventurers or civilians anywhere in the streets!” Valletta raised a puzzled brow. “Eh? The hell’s that supposed to mean?” “We believe the civilians are being kept in those five strongholds, ma’am! But even there, we’ve encountered only a handful of first-tier adventurers!” The subordinate’s gaze flickered nervously. “We believe the remainder must be waiting somewhere in reserve!” The names of Orario’s elite, Shakti of the Ganesha Familia, Asfi of Hermes Familia, were conspicuously absent. Even of the Freya Familia, only Allen had been sighted. The strain was evident on the two cultists as they continued their report. “Plus, we’ve spotted a great number of enemy scouts…….even more numerous than our own! We believe they must be trying to locate Lord Zald, Lord Mors, and Lady Alfia!” Valletta’s contemplation was fleeting. Then, she exploded into laughter, a sharp, triumphant sound that cut through the din of battle. “Ha-ha-ha-ha! So that’s your game, Finn! You rotten bastard!” “L-Lady Valletta…? Is something the matter…?” “Finn doesn’t give two shits about protecting the people! He’s using them as bait!” Valletta’s gaze swept across the city once more, her eyes narrowing with newfound understanding. “North, northwest, southwest, south, and east! Five strongholds, equally defended, forcing us to divide our forces!” The northern point was Twilight Manor, the northwest held Guild HQ, the southwest the Ganesha Familia home, the south the Casino, and the east the Arena. Some of Orario’s troops staged a perfunctory defense, but the bulk of Finn’s allies were lying in wait. It stank of an ambush, and Valletta knew with chilling certainty what their true target was. “They’re coming after our trump cards!” “You mean…our champions?!” “Exactly. That cocky bastard! He is indirectly saying, ‘Take as many pawns, knights, and bishops as you want, cause I’m coming for your king, queen, and rook!’” Valletta drew her crimson tongue across her lips, her gaze now fixed on the heart of the city. “The rest of their forces must be in there! That wall of ice isn’t for keeping us out; it’s for keeping them hidden!” She briefly recalled Olivas’s words when the barrier had first appeared, the shards of ice like cactus flower petals surrounding Babel’s base. But its purpose wasn't, as she had initially assumed, to reinforce the tower while adventurers fought elsewhere. In truth, the majority of Orario’s adventurers had not stirred from Babel’s shadow. The ice wall had been constructed to obscure that fact. “I—I see…” one of the soldiers finally grasped the implication. “It’s true. The scent of helpless civilians sheltered inside the strongholds is drawing all the monsters away from Babel.” “W-was this Finn’s plan all along?! To use people as bait?! Wh-what do we do now, Lady Valletta?!” The strongholds were strategically positioned near the city gates, chosen for precisely that reason. As soon as monsters breached Orario’s walls, they would be drawn to the battlements by the scent of fresh meat, where prepared adventurer bands awaited. This left the evilus unable to rally enough forces to seize the Central Park. The cultists could scarcely believe how thoroughly their plans had been perceived. They looked to Valletta for guidance. Her earlier laughter had vanished, replaced by a steely scowl, the expression of a chess player deep in thought. ‘If all their top dogs are waiting at Babel,’ she reasoned, ‘then a half-assed strike force isn’t going to cut it. Even if we ditch the monsters and send our whole army there, those strongholds are perfectly positioned to encircle us, no matter which direction we come from. We march in there, it’s going to be a bloodbath either way, and not the good kind.’ The battle of wits had truly begun. Valletta almost felt as though she could see her opponent, standing far away on the Guild HQ rooftop, across the intermediary streets that served as their board. ‘But if we go after the strongholds first, we’re playing right into Finn’s hand. That’s why he set up the board . It’s exactly what he wants…’ …………………………………………………………………………………………………… Across the sprawling cityscape, a silent war waged not with steel and fire, but with minds as sharp and unforgiving as any blade. Finn, commander of Orario’s forces, peered through the haze of the ongoing conflict, his gaze dissecting the intricate board of battle. “Valletta’s objective is clear,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against the distant clatter of combat. “Those strongholds are an irritant, a thorn in her side. To remove them, she needs Zald, Alfia, and Mors. But our scouts are everywhere. The moment those Level 7s make any move, we’ll know. Their downfall will be Orario’s victory, and we have ample forces poised to ensure it.” Finn’s singular focus was the enemy’s core: their king, queen, and joker. He was prepared to pay any price to dismantle their command. As long as those three indomitable pieces remained on the board, all his meticulously crafted stratagems were rendered moot. “And if you choose not to move,” he mused, addressing the unseen Valletta in his mind, “that suits me just fine. We are on home turf. A protracted engagement favors us; time and resources will bleed you dry. You are the ones who will grow weaker.” Just as Valletta undoubtedly feared, Finn had gambled on her desire to eliminate his strongholds first. He had deliberately gathered civilians within those five fortified locations, knowing full well he was exposing them to grave danger. They were bait, pure and simple, luring both the enemy commander and the monstrous hordes that swarmed the city walls. Finn of course would not easily surrender the strongholds lightly, but if lives were to be lost, the pallum commander fully intended to take out a major piece in return for such a sacrifice. It was this ruthless pragmatism that earned Finn Valletta’s grudging respect. His cutthroat gambit was the linchpin, the maneuver that truly set the board for the coming exchanges. Even the gods, observers of this grand, grim game, could acknowledge its brutal brilliance. To Finn, the war was not a matter of life and death, but a complex chess game he was determined to win. High above the individual struggles of the populace, he and Valletta engaged in a silent dance of strategy, their moves precisely calculated. The gears in his mind finally ceased their frantic whirring. Finn opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the city, seeking the distant locus of his adversary. “All our pieces are on the board now,” he declared, his voice carrying an air of finality. “From here on out, the battle is entirely within our minds. So, Valletta, what’ll it be? What’s your next move?” A brutal smile stretched across Valletta’s lips. “Ain’t it obvious? I’m going to take that bait!” Her command, spat like flame at her subordinates, sent ripples of confusion and terror through their ranks. “Get me Zald! Send him to Central Park! We’re going to bring that wall of ice down!” “Y-you wish to send Lord Zald in there alone?!” one stammered, fear a palpable entity in his voice. “He may be Level Seven, but he can’t take on all of Orario’s top warriors at once!” Valletta’s scornful laugh echoed. “You deaf, shitheads? That’s Zeus’s top dog you’re talking about! Besides, who cares as long as he takes the adventurers down with him?! Counting the monsters, we easily outnumber those stinking babies! Crushing their strongholds one by one’ll be child’s play, and once those assholes at Babel are out of the picture, no one’ll come running anymore, and they won’t have nowhere to run to!” “Have the troops keep attacking the forts! Get everyone else together, call up our joker, along with those Alecto and Apate kids. They’re going to nip the adventurers’ hope in the bud! We’ll show them how a king does things!” The subordinates scrambled to obey, their fear now mingled with a grim resolve. For all her cruelty, Valletta was a terrifyingly intelligent commander. As the cultists dispersed, she shouldered her sword, her gaze fixed across the city, locking with her adversary’s. “We don’t need fancy strategies! We’ve got the most powerful pieces in the world on our side!!” she declared, a primal confidence radiating from her. Valletta understood the delicate balance of trusting her pieces, neither too much nor too little. She also knew better than to be ensnared by her opponent’s intricate maneuvers. Above all, she recognized that in this moment, a direct assault was the most effective path. Her proclamation, a challenge hurled across the vast distance, was clear. “If you’re worried about the king, then you can have him! Wait right there, Finn! After I eat the bait, I am coming for you!” A/N: Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, and read 1 extra chapter as a free member.