The meat tasted like volcanic ash mixed with bile. Zald chewed the chunk of the reptilian monster's thigh with an expressionless face, letting the thick, sulfur-smelling blood slide down his throat. Nausea immediately assaulted his stomach, but he forced it down. He had to swallow it. His unique skill, Deus Ambrosia, demanded the intake of his enemies' flesh so his massive body wouldn't be destroyed by the Behemoth's poison that continuously gnawed at his internal organs from the inside out.
The former adventurer of the Zeus Familia sat alone atop the ruins of a dead city located quite a distance from Orario. Ever since his familia's crushing defeat—since the sky fell and Captain Maxim lost his life in the face of absolute despair—Zald had become a wanderer. A broken veteran walking aimlessly upon a world that was merely waiting for its time to be annihilated.
Suddenly, his chewing stopped.
The air around the city ruins suddenly died. The wind stopped blowing. The desert insects that usually chirped noisily fell abruptly silent.
Then, the sound came.
It wasn't just a sound; it was a wave of physical pressure that rippled through the foundation of the continent, ignoring distances of thousands of kilometers, and slammed into Zald's chest like an invisible sledgehammer.
"GRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The chunk of meat fell from Zald's hand, landing in the dust.
The massive man stood up slowly. His heart beat with an unnatural rhythm. Cold sweat instantly flooded his temples, while the poison in his body and the corrosive scar on his face seemed to throb painfully once more, reacting to the horrifying terror that had just swept across the world.
Zald stared far into the northern horizon. His tired eyes widened, capturing the tremor of horror that had just torn through the world's tranquility.
"The One-Eyed Black Dragon..." Zald muttered, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Why is it roaring now? The seal... has the seal been broken?"
There was no answer from the empty wind. There was only a gripping silence, as if the world itself were holding its breath in fear.
[...One week after the roar shook the world...]
The dry wind from the Eastern Wastelands blew carrying coarse dust, striking Zald's face as he sat leaning against a ruined temple pillar. The former executive of the Zeus Familia still hadn't moved far from the ruins of the dead village where he took shelter. He had just finished hunting a wild monster, chewing the rest of its meat to suppress the poison in his body.
"A beautiful roar a week ago, wasn't it? Full of anger, loss, and the promise of the apocalypse."
From behind the shadow of the collapsed pillar, a man stepped out with an elegance unsuited for this dead environment. He wore a neat dark suit, bearing a faint smile that radiated both deep charisma and danger. His eyes were as dark as the abyss of night.
"Erebus," Zald hissed, slightly loosening his grip on his sword.
The God of Darkness and the Underworld spread his arms, staring at the northern sky with an expression full of dark admiration.
"Our time is almost up, Zald," Erebus said, his voice drifting like a funeral melody. "That roar is proof that the world's order is shifting. Someone dared to touch that Calamity. Whether they managed to beat it back, or they simply accelerated this world's doomsday clock. If that Black Dragon gets out and spreads its wings... the Gekai (Lower World) will turn to ash. There will be nothing left."
Zald looked down, feeling the painful throb of the burn that ruined most of his face—the corrosive remnants of the Behemoth meat he had swallowed.
"Then what do you want from me, Erebus? The era of Zeus and Hera is over. We failed. This world no longer has a Shield."
"Precisely because you failed, this world needs a new Shield," Erebus replied, stepping closer to Zald. The god's dark eyes glinted sharply. "Humans have become too comfortable under your protection for the past thousand years. Right now, Orario must be filled with complacent children."
Erebus reached into his long dark coat, then threw two pieces of intelligence parchment onto the dusty sand in front of Zald. The parchments displayed sketches of the Loki and Freya Familia emblems.
"Look at them. The current pillars of Orario. Freya has Ottar, who only recently reached Level 6. Loki has Finn, Gareth, and Riveria, who are still stuck at Level 5. Do you think these children have fangs sharp enough to tear through the Black Dragon's scales?"
"They are weak," Zald answered without hesitation, his tone objective. "Facing the Black Dragon with that formation is no different from throwing pebbles into an ocean of fire."
"Exactly!" Erebus clapped his hands, his smile widening. "Therefore, we must force them to evolve. We must create a stage of despair so dark that from it, the light of true heroes will be born. If they cannot overcome the obstacles we create, they deserve to die before that Black Dragon burns them."
Zald fell silent. Erebus's logic was exceedingly cruel, yet to the ears of a veteran who had witnessed absolute despair firsthand, that logic was the only way out for humanity.
"You want to attack Orario directly?" Zald asked.
"Oh, originally I really wanted to do that," Erebus let out a long sigh, looking slightly disappointed. "However, my plans had to be altered. There are two major problems. First, Orario is currently guarded by a monster you know very well."
Erebus flipped the sheets of paper in his hand, revealing a sketch of a winged lyre silhouette. The emblem of the Barbatos Familia.
"I'm very curious about this new god. But information from my spy network indicates that this Familia only consists of Alfia, her sister Meteria, a Level 1 named Sylphie, and four Level 3 Elves. The problem isn't the god, but rather the guardian."
Hearing Alfia's name, Zald's face instantly hardened.
"You want to provoke Alfia's wrath?" Zald shook his head slowly, his jaw clenched tight. "That wouldn't be a trial for Orario, Erebus. That would be a massacre. If you attack the city while Meteria is there, Alfia will not hold back. That girl might be gravely ill, but she is mercilessly cruel. Even with her sickness, I would think twice before taking her magic head-on."
"Exactly," Erebus smiled in agreement. "Alfia's presence in Orario makes that city a forbidden zone for my main stage. Furthermore, there's a second problem: I tried to recruit the Evilus gods inside the city, but they seem to be hiding like rats in a sewer. I don't know if they're too terrified of Alfia or if some other party is holding them back, but they haven't responded to my calls at all."
Erebus walked around Zald, his voice now adopting a more serious and conspiratorial tone.
"Since Orario cannot be touched from the inside, we will choke it from the outside. We will force the Guild to send their best adventurers straight into our trap. And the most perfect place for this stage of slaughter... is the Kaios Desert."
"The slave market at the Kaios border..." Zald analyzed slowly, understanding the cruelty behind the plan. "You're going to provoke the higher-ups of the Loki Familia personally."
"Exactly right," Erebus's smile widened with pure cunning. "I have ordered my forces to kidnap Pallums, Elves, and Dwarves from the surrounding territories, then chain them up at the Kaios auction. My spies in Orario have just delivered 'proof' of that slavery directly to Finn, Riveria, and Gareth."
Zald's eyes narrowed, picturing the reactions of their targets. "Finn lives to revive Pallum pride. Riveria considers the enslavement of the Elven race an unforgivable sin. And Gareth would never allow his Dwarven brethren to be chained like livestock."
"Anger will blind their tactical logic," Erebus chuckled. "They will pressure the Guild into immediately authorizing an expedition to Kaios."
"Then what about the Freya familia?" Zald asked flatly. "Ottar and Freya's children don't care about morality or slavery. That boar only moves upon his goddess's orders."
"A brilliant analysis from a former Zeus executive," Erebus praised, grinning widely at the veteran's sharpness. "You're absolutely right. That is why, to lure out the Freya familia, the bait is different. I merely need to leak to the Goddess of Beauty that incredibly strong 'prey' awaits in Kaios. Freya would never hold back her children if there's an opportunity to temper their souls through bloodshed."
"But you don't have an army, Erebus. And Evilus isn't answering your calls," Zald countered.
"Who said I don't have an army?" Erebus laughed softly. "Since Evilus is reluctant to play, I have recruited actors from off the stage."
Erebus reached back into the pocket of his long dark coat, pulling out several worn documents. He dropped the papers onto the sand near Zald's feet. The sheets displayed sketches of emblems Zald recognized all too well.
"Set. Sobek. Osiris," Erebus named, listing the gods who ruled the desert regions.
Seeing those emblems, Zald's expression twisted into disgust. His hand unconsciously clenched tight until his knuckles turned pure white.
"You recruited those losers?" Zald growled, his tone filled with profound distaste. "The Zeus and Hera Familias defeated their Familias years ago. They are nothing but dogs running away with their tails tucked between their legs. You make me uncomfortable with this filthy alliance, Erebus."
"I understand your pride is hurt, Zald," Erebus stroked his chin, his eyes glinting with cunning. "But never underestimate the power of long-harbored hatred. Set, Sobek, and Osiris still bear a deep-seated grudge over being humiliated and banished by your familia and Hera's in the past. Since their main enemies are already destroyed, they'd be more than happy to vent their anger by massacring Orario's succeeding generation. That vengeful army will be the perfect sacrificial pawns to exhaust the forces of Loki and Freya. And most importantly, they are merely a distraction for my main weapon."
Erebus paused, letting silence dominate the air before he mentioned the next name.
"The God Resheph."
Zald raised his eyebrows. He knew that name. The God of Disease and Plague who ruled the desert's interior.
"Resheph has lent a star for this stage," Erebus continued, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "The Captain of his Familia. A Level 3 Elf named Seale."
"Level 3?" Zald scoffed dismissively. "You expect a Level 3 kid to be an obstacle for Ottar or Finn?"
"Don't let the level deceive you, Zald. Seale is the incarnation of a nightmare itself. His ability... is an incredibly horrifying wide-area curse called Har Resheph."
Erebus drew closer, his eyes gleaming with dark enthusiasm.
"This is not physical destruction magic," Erebus's smile hinted at pure cruelty. "Har Resheph is an absolute illusion curse. Its effects are far more twisted than a mere hallucination. Every target that steps into its area of effect will see everyone around them... as the person they love the most. At the same time, the curse forces their minds to relive the greatest tragedy of their lives, over and over again endlessly."
Erebus stared at Zald, savoring the gripping silence between them.
"Imagine, Zald. How can you swing your weapon if everyone standing before your eyes wears the face of the person most precious to you? Even adventurers of much higher levels will be mentally shattered and lose their will to fight. As their sanity crumbles, Seale will only need to stroll casually and decapitate them one by one."
Zald's breath caught slightly. As someone suffering from PTSD due to his friends' deaths at the hands of the Black Dragon, he knew exactly how lethal such a mental attack could be.
"A mind breaker," Zald muttered softly.
"Exactly," Erebus's smile widened. "The targets will experience such intense despair that their minds will shatter. They will lose their will to live, let alone fight. Imagine it, Zald. The succeeding generation of Orario, screaming and crying on the sand, clinging to their traumatic illusions, before Seale and his forces behead them one by one without resistance."
Erebus spread his arms wide to the gray sky, as if embracing the giant stage before him.
"This plan will be an absolute trial. Natural selection. I call it Operation Purgatory. The forces of Orario will be sent to the desert, stalled by the Familias of loser gods, and mentally tested by the Har Resheph curse. And as for those who somehow manage to crawl out of that hallucinatory hell..."
Erebus turned to Zald, his dark gaze locking onto the massive veteran's eyes.
"...They will face you. The Gluttony. The final wall of despair that will determine whether they are worthy to be called Heroes, or are nothing more than dust on the desert sand."
Zald was silent for a very long time.
The dry wind blew again, scattering dust around his feet. He thought of Captain Maxim. He thought of the laughter of his friends in the Zeus Familia that was now just a memory. He thought of the Black Dragon's roar that had just warned the world that their time was limited.
If the world needed new heroes to slay that dragon, then someone had to become a cruel whetstone. Someone had to sacrifice the remainder of their life and honor to swing a sword at the necks of the next generation.
And who was more suited to be that villain than a worn-out veteran with no purpose left in this world?
Zald pulled his greatsword from the ground, hoisting it onto his broad shoulders. His previously tired eyes now radiated a burning, dark determination.
"Take me to the Kaios Desert, Erebus," Zald said in a voice as hard as steel. "I will devour everything they throw at me. I will become the nightmare that forces them to open their eyes."
Erebus smiled in satisfaction, a highly elegant, cunning smile. The God of Darkness turned around, his steps as light as if he had just won a chess match.
"Good. Very good," Erebus murmured, his voice fading with the wind. "Let us welcome this new generation in the desert. Let us see if Orario's flame can endure amidst our storm of despair."
Under the shadow of the apocalypse looming over the world, Zald stepped forward, following the god toward the Kaios Desert. A grand stage of death had been meticulously prepared, waiting for the young adventurers of Orario to come and claim their destiny.
However, neither Erebus, who designed this conspiracy, nor Zald, who was preparing to be the executioner deciding their fate, were aware of a single missed variable.
In that cursed sandy land serving as the main stage for the struggle over Orario's fate, another entity had just arrived. The God of Wind who slipped under the radar of destiny had come along with his four secret elite Elven fighters, ready to cleave through the storm of death before Erebus's game could even begin.
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