The invisible shield of air smoothly dissipated, leaving behind only a light breeze. Hestia, finally recovering from her brief stupor and realizing that she had been spared a sticky beer bath thanks to her follower's lightning-fast reaction, blossomed.
She stepped back slightly, half-hiding behind Rane's broad back, but at the same time peeking out victoriously over his shoulder. An utterly smug smirk instantly painted itself on her face.
"Pfft, well, what else could one expect from a goddess of the barbaric pantheon?" Hestia drawled, pointedly pressing herself against the youth's arm so that her main asset looked as immodest as possible. "No manners at all. I suppose since you have absolutely nothing to show off in the front, you decided to completely discard every last drop of femininity. A very practical approach, Loki!"
"Ha!" the Goddess of Mischief bared her teeth venomously, gripping her empty wooden mug so hard it creaked threateningly. "At least I don't have to hide behind the backs of my rookies to yap!"
Rane stood with an impassive face. Listening to this exchange of pleasantries, he understood: the chasm between these two divine entities was much deeper and older than he could have imagined. This wasn't just a petty squabble, but a centuries-old, highly polished tradition of mutual humiliation.
Without changing his unruffled expression, the youth slowly raised his free left hand and gently rested his broad palm on the crown of his raging Goddess's head.
"Eep!" Hestia flinched in surprise as his fingers buried themselves in her black hair.
"I am sincerely glad that you have such close friends, Goddess," Rane said in an even, soothing tone, beginning to stroke her head with unhurried, almost rhythmic motions. "It warms the heart."
Hestia instantly took a deep breath, ready to burst into an indignant tirade about how this flat board was not her friend at all, but her worst enemy. But the words caught in her throat. The heavy, warm palm on the top of her head radiated such a pacifying calm that all her indignation dissolved without a trace. She looked up at Rane, saw his faint, indulgent half-smile, and a thick blush flooded her cheeks.
Lowering her gaze to the cobblestone pavement, the Goddess of the Hearth obediently deflated. She puckered her lips into a funny little duck pout and, shifting from foot to foot, quietly mumbled:
"Y-yeah..."
Loki, observing this scene of metamorphosis, raised an eyebrow in surprise. Her crimson slit-eyes narrowed mockingly.
"Well, look at that..." she drawled, resting a hand on her hip. "You really tamed our rabid shrimp. My respects to the beast tamer."
Hestia immediately bristled, ready to throw herself back into the verbal fray, but Rane beat her to it.
"Hestia-sama's kindness is truly boundless and beautiful," the youth replied as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. Not a drop of falsehood or irony sounded in his voice. "My main goal, as the captain of her Familia, is to convey this undeniable truth to the whole world."
Silence fell. Hestia slowly raised her head. Her huge blue eyes shone with a rush of emotion; she looked up at him and, with a breath full of adoration, exhaled:
"Rane..."
The youth shifted his gaze to her, responding with a warm, deep smile. It seemed as if invisible flowers were blooming around them, and the air filled with the rosy glow of a typical cheap romance novel.
"Ew..." Loki grimaced as if a rotten goblin had been shoved under her nose. She theatrically clutched her stomach with her free hand. "How gross. I'm going to throw up. You should hang a warning sign before spreading this mush around."
Rane, letting the insult pass his ears, decided to steer the conversation into a more constructive channel. He swept his gaze over the festive crowd around the entrance and, returning his attention to the red-haired goddess, politely inquired:
"By the way, Lady Loki. Allow me to ask, why is the head of such a powerful faction here today in complete solitude?"
The Goddess of Mischief hesitated for a moment. Her eyes darted around, but in the next second, her face lit up with an absolutely smug, wide smile.
"I'm not alone!" she declared proudly, thrusting out her non-existent chest. "I'm on an exclusive, romantic date with my darling Aiz-tan today! We came here together!"
Rane and Hestia synchronously turned their heads to the right. Then to the left. They carefully scanned the space behind Loki, peeked behind the massive columns of the Colosseum, and even cast a glance over the nearby merchant stalls.
The Sword Princess was nowhere to be found. There was only empty, wind-swept space around Loki.
Hestia and Rane exchanged glances. A deep, genuine condescending pity could be read in both of their eyes. They leaned slightly toward each other, and Hestia "whispered" loudly enough to guarantee her opponent would hear everything:
"You know, Rane... I think I was too cruel to her. The poor thing's head is completely baked from loneliness. She's already making up imaginary dates..."
"HEY!" Loki barked, feeling her eye twitch.
"Don't blame yourself, Goddess," Rane replied with a heavy sigh, shaking his head sorrowfully. "Rather, it's my fault. We shouldn't have flaunted our happiness so openly in front of a deeply lonely person. Envy and despair can sometimes have a devastating effect on a fragile mind."
"Listen here, you little punk..!" Loki was already rolling up the sleeves of her outfit, ready to pick a fight despite the difference in their status.
Rane, assessing the situation, looked at the large tower clock.
"I think it's time we get going, otherwise we'll miss everything," he stated, gently steering Hestia toward the entrance. Before leaving, he threw a glance over his shoulder at the seething Goddess. "Lady Loki, if you are truly that lonely, we wouldn't mind if you kept us company."
"Go to the Abyss with your pity!" Loki snapped, ready to throw fists at them.
But at that very moment, the crowd of onlookers parted. A group of three girls ran up to them, gasping for breath and pushing their way through the stream of people. Their distinct appearance and familiar faces gave them away as the elite of the Loki Familia. Lefiya Viridis was breathing heavily, clutching her staff. Behind her, with furrowed brows, stood Tione, while Tiona, on the contrary, looked incredibly excited.
"Loki-sama!" the elf cried out, catching her breath. Noticing Rane and Hestia, she stumbled for a second, blinking in surprise, but immediately returned to the main issue. "Something is happening over there! There's a terrible commotion in the square. The members of the Ganesha Familia are running around with pale faces, blocking off sectors! I think there's been a disaster!"
In the blink of an eye, all the comicalness and irritation vanished from Loki's face. The mask of the clown Goddess disappeared, giving way to the astute leader of Orario's strongest Familia.
"Ah, that... Yeah, I'm already aware," Loki replied calmly, even lazily, shoving her hands into her trouser pockets. "Judging by the looks of it, those idiots underestimated the strength of the cages. The critters Ganesha dragged up from the lower floors to amuse the public managed to break loose."
Hearing this, Hestia gasped in fright, clutching Rane's sleeve.
"Monsters?! On crowded streets in the middle of a festival?! How awful!"
Rane, however, shifted an attentive gaze to Loki.
"Is this really such a routine event that you aren't even surprised?" the youth asked, noticing her calmness.
The corners of Loki's lips crept upward, forming a confident, predatory smile.
"Why should I sweat it? My Aiz-tan is already headed there. You can only pity the poor little monsters; she'll chop them into a salad before they even get a chance to eat anyone. There's absolutely nothing to worry about."
The elf, hearing her idol's name, paled even more.
"Miss Aiz is out there all alone?! Against a whole pack of monsters?!" Lefiya shrieked in a panic, clutching her head. "We have to rush to her aid immediately!"
"Hahaha! Aiz can handle it herself, but it would be a crime to miss a fight like this!" Tiona laughed brightly, baring her teeth in an eager, wild smile. "Let's go, sis!"
Without waiting for orders, the trio of adventurers bolted from their spot, powerfully carving their way through the crowd of unsuspecting citizens towards the presumed battle.
Rane and Hestia remained standing a little further away, silently watching the retreating squad. Then they turned their heads in sync and looked at Loki, who was turning her nose up with a proud, victorious air.
Exchanging glances, the duo from the abandoned church spoke in unison, with distinctively genuine, unfeigned shock:
"So it was true..."
The news that the monster cages had failed spread through the streets like a wildfire.
However, to Rane's genuine surprise, there was no real, animalistic panic. The crowd of citizens and tourists did quicken their pace, beginning to hurriedly leave the square, but their actions were surprisingly organized. No one was crushing each other in the narrow alleys, no one was screaming in primal terror. Life in Orario—a city literally sitting on the lid of a cauldron of monsters—left its mark on the psyche. The locals possessed an absolute, unshakeable faith in the Guild and the adventurers patrolling the streets.
Loki, with her hands shoved into her trouser pockets, lazily shifted her gaze from the dispersing crowd to the duo from the abandoned chapel. The Goddess of Mischief arched an eyebrow so high it almost disappeared under her red bangs.
"I don't get it, are you glued to this spot?" she drawled mockingly. "It's an evacuation for everyone, shorty. Or are you waiting for a special invitation?"
Rane, without tearing his attentive gaze from the bustling square, replied with utmost courtesy:
"To abandon a lonely lady in the epicenter of a potential disaster is bad manners. My upbringing does not allow me to make such a gross mistake."
Loki snorted, choking on such a saccharine statement, but she was interrupted by a deafening, guttural roar.
At the far edge of the square, right through the rows of empty merchant tents, a massive figure burst forth. Silver fur, bloodshot eyes, and massive, disproportionately long arms. A Silverback. The primate monster, possessing incredible physical strength, smashed everything in its path, pursuing two teenagers—a boy and a girl—who were desperately fleeing toward the residential quarters.
Rane's eyes instantly lost all their softness. Assessing the distance and the beast's speed, he turned to his patron.
"Goddess. Stay here, next to Lady Loki," the youth's tone brooked no arguments. "I need to step away for a moment."
"Rane, wait, that's..!" The Goddess of the Hearth instinctively reached for him, but the youth was no longer looking her way.
The air around his feet suddenly trembled, condensing. Without chanting any spells, he simply unleashed the element, using the wind as a perfect accelerator. The cobblestones beneath his boots crunched pitifully, and Rane's figure blurred, turning into a swift silhouette. He dashed to intercept the monster at a speed inaccessible to a normal Level 1 rookie.
Hestia bit her lip until it turned white. Her entire being screamed to rush after him, but she forced herself to stay put. He had asked her to wait. That meant she would wait.
Loki, having followed the guy with a long, penetrating gaze, slowly turned to her eternal rival. There was no more mockery in her crimson eyes. A complex thought process was spinning within them. The Goddess of Mischief had already seen how that white-haired boy changed when he joined her Familia. Bell Cranel had demonstrated a unique, inconceivable skill that broke the rules of the system. And Loki understood perfectly: the root of that anomaly lay in the man who had just sped off to save some strangers.
"What an entertaining brat you've got there, Shorty," Loki drawled, taking a step closer to the tense Hestia. "Magic without a chant? And elemental control on a level like he was born with it. And so much confidence... Isn't he biting off a bit more than he can chew? That macaque is no upper-floor critter. It's clearly out of your kid's league."
Hestia clenched her fists, hiding them in the folds of her dress. Fear coiled in her chest like a venomous snake, but her faith in her only follower proved stronger.
"He knows what he's doing," the miniature Goddess's voice sounded surprisingly firm, albeit with a slight rasp. "Rane gave his word that he would return to me. And he never breaks his promises."
Loki silently studied her rival's profile. Convinced that she wouldn't break under pressure, the red-haired Goddess suddenly smirked. Winding up, she smacked Hestia hard on the back with her palm, making her stumble and let out an indignant yelp.
"Well, since you're so confident in him," Loki shoved her hands back into her pockets and set off at a leisurely, strolling pace in the same direction Rane had disappeared (and where her own Familia's elite had run earlier). "I'm heading over there. You promised your boy you'd stay with me. So you can either stick around here alone, or you can tag along. Technically, you won't be breaking the deal."
The desire to make sure her child was alright instantly outweighed any doubts. Hestia bolted from her spot, scurrying after her lanky rival.
***
Meanwhile, in the maze of narrow alleys where the light of the festive lanterns didn't reach, a drama was unfolding.
Leo and Alice—members of Carol's team—were sprinting across the cobblestones, gasping heavily for air. The lack of weapons (left in the barracks due to the festival) made them completely defenseless against the mountain of silver muscles pursuing them. The Silverback, smashing through brickwork on the turns, inexorably closed the distance.
"Why the hell is it fixated on us?!" the spearman cried out in despair, looking over his shoulder. The guy's eyes were wide with terror.
"It's karma for your stalker tendencies, you idiot!" wheezed Alice, running beside him, feeling her lungs burning like fire. "If you hadn't dragged me along to spy on Bell and Carol, we'd be sitting in a tavern right now! But no, you just had to track them down! If I had my bow, I'd shoot you first and then that monkey!"
She wanted to add another curse, but at that moment, her boot slipped on the damp stone. Her ankle twisted treacherously.
With a muffled cry, Alice crashed onto the cobblestones, painfully scraping the skin off her palms.
"Alice!" Leo braked, trying to turn back to his childhood friend, but his momentum carried him too far forward. He lost precious seconds.
A deafening crash rang out from behind. The Silverback landed right in front of the fallen girl, blocking out the night sky. The monster raised two giant, sledgehammer-like arms, ready to turn the fragile figure into a bloody pulp.
Alice froze. Time stopped. She saw the beast's muzzle, twisted in rage, smelled its putrid breath, but her body refused to obey. Tears of total, helpless despair welled up in her eyes.
But the blow never came.
Suddenly, a tall figure in casual clothes silently materialized between her and looming death. Alice didn't even have time to comprehend where this person had come from.
The space of the narrow alley was instantly filled with the roar of a gale-force wind. Air currents swirled around the stranger in a dense, cutting vortex, billowing the flaps of his shirt. He took a smooth, calculated step forward, beating the primate's falling fists, and thrust his open palm forward.
The strike landed dead center on the Silverback's broad, muscular chest, which was covered by a metal plate.
A strange, dry pop rang out, resembling an explosion of compressed air. Kinetic energy, multiplied many times over by wind magic, was released at a single point.
The massive, multi-ton monster was lifted off the ground and hurled backwards with such monstrous force that it seemed as if it had been fired from a cannon. The Silverback flew across the entire length of the alley and, with a sickening crunch, smashed into the stone wall of the opposite building, breaking straight through it and disappearing into a cloud of brick dust.
A ringing silence hung in the alley, broken only by crumbling plaster.
Alice sat on the ground, unable to close her mouth, which was hanging open in shock.
The stranger slowly lowered his hand, waited for the air currents around him to completely subside, and turned around. There wasn't an ounce of tension on his face, and his warm eyes carefully inspected the girl.
He extended a broad, calloused hand to her and, with genuine, polite interest, asked:
"Are you hurt?"