[Check Out My P4treon For +50 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!! And get chapters before publishing them here for free on my p4treon][https://p4treon.com/roaverse]
===
The next morning, Kenta awoke with a start, stretching his limbs like a cat.
"Mmm~ now that was a high-quality sleep!" He sighed with profound satisfaction. It seemed his tactical room-swap with Dan Heng had worked perfectly; his "fortress of solitude" had remained unbreached throughout the night.
However, as he stepped into the living room, he was met with a grim sight. While Dan Heng looked as composed as ever, the three girls—Stelle, March 7th, and Bronya—all sported varying shades of luggage under their eyes. They looked like they'd spent the night fighting a war in a dark hallway.
"Morning, ladies," Kenta said, sounding far more cheerful than the atmosphere allowed. "What's with the long faces? Is my guest bedding not up to Overworld standards?"
"No," Bronya replied, shaking her head stiffly. "I was simply... contemplating the geopolitical implications of the Underworld's plight."
Kenta nodded sagely. Right. Impactful trauma. Makes sense.
March 7th, however, pointed a shaky finger at the gray-haired raccoon beside her. "Stelle kept 'getting thirsty' every five minutes. And when she finally stayed in bed, she snored like a Gepard-class engine and kicked my blanket off!"
"Lies," Stelle countered, her tone flat but her eyes darting away. "I sleep like a graceful swan. You were the one talking in your sleep about 'pink arrows' and 'trash cans'."
Kenta chuckled. Seeing them bicker like this was a refreshing start to a day that was likely going to involve a lot of heavy lifting.
The small interlude of domestic chaos ended as they met Oleg and Seele at the designated rendezvous point. The air was thick with the scent of rusted iron and anticipation.
"To put it simply," Oleg summarized, leaning against a support beam, "the Express wants the Stellaron, and Wildfire wants the blockade lifted. Both roads lead to one destination: Svarog."
"Exactly," March 7th said, her eyes flashing with a rare, serious spark. "We're going to defeat the big shot."
Oleg nodded. "Persuasion is the goal. You are the 'variables' Svarog mentioned, so you have the best shot at cracking his logic. But be ready for a fight. Svarog doesn't do 'compromise' very well. Seele will go with you as our liaison, while the rest of Wildfire waits in reserve. We don't want to trigger a full-scale war before we've had a chance to talk."
Oleg then turned to Bronya. "And you, Silvermane girl? You don't have a stake in this feud. Where do you stand?"
Bronya took a breath, her silver-gray hair catching the dim light. "The Underworld is Belobog. If Svarog is the obstacle to its survival, then I stand with the people. I'm in."
"Hahaha! That's the spirit of a future Guardian!" Oleg roared.
Seele turned to Kenta, her purple eyes softened by a flicker of genuine concern. "What about you, Kenta? You're on good terms with Clara. Are you sure you're ready to draw steel against her 'father'?"
Kenta offered a kind, confident smile. "It's fine. We aren't going there to turn him into a toaster; we're going to talk. Besides, Clara is a smart girl. She knows that sometimes, even Svarog needs a reality check."
He paused, his expression shifting into a devious grin. "Plus, the old relic has been blocking my access to her room for months. Now that I have a 'professional' excuse to kick his metal backside... I mean, now that I am a responsible citizen of the Underworld, I must do my duty."
He caught his slip-up and coughed. No one bothered to point out the obvious. Led by Kenta, the group marched toward the Mechanical Settlement.
Svarog, you iron block, Kenta thought menacingly. Once I get there, I'm plucking every fiber of fur off that coat of yours!
They crested a small hilltop overlooking the vagrant camps and the central hub of the settlement. Below, the area was crawling with mechanical sentries.
"Wow," March 7th whispered, peering down. "Svarog really stepped up the security. Is he expecting a siege?"
Seele scratched her head, looking confused. "That's... not normal. I've never seen this many robots patrolling the outskirts. Usually, they stay close to the core."
Kenta felt a bead of cold sweat trace down his spine. He knew exactly why the security had been quadrupled. Note to self: Next time you sneak into a little girl's room, don't trip the 'Intruder Alert' on the way out.
"Don't worry, I've got a plan," Kenta declared, desperate to move past his own blunder. He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out... a set of high-end cosmetics.
"..."
"Kenta," March 7th asked, the silence stretching long. "What exactly are we doing with eyeliner?"
"Disguise!" Kenta barked. "Svarog has my face on a 'Wanted: Dead or Rotted' list. But there are hundreds of vagrants down there. If we put on a thick layer of makeup and find some rags, we can walk right through the front gate."
It sounded plausible, if a bit desperate. He looked at the four women. "Alright, who among you is the makeup artist?"
Silence.
"You're telling me," Kenta asked, incredulous, "that none of you four blooming maidens know how to apply a disguise?"
"I am a natural beauty," March 7th said, blushing. "I only do light touch-ups! I don't know how to turn a face into a 'vagrant'!"
"I lead a military force," Bronya added logically. "We don't typically wear foundation to the Fragmentum fronts."
"I fight for survival, Kenta," Seele snapped. "Why would I spend time painting my face? And why do you have a full kit in your bag? Who were you planning to give that to?"
Stelle just stared at the eyeshadow with the vacant, unblinking focus of a trash-obsessed raccoon.
"Fine. Plan B," Kenta muttered, stowing the kit. He pulled out a bulging leather pouch. "Bribes. Robots are rigid, but people are greedy. We pay a few vagrants to create a distraction, and we slip in through the side."
"I thought Seele said your 'savings' were gone?" Bronya asked.
"This is the profit from the antiques I sold! I hid a backup stash!" Kenta grinned confidently, shaking the bag. It clinked with the sound of cold, hard currency. "Sampo doesn't know about this one."
He opened the bag to show off his wealth, only to find it filled with... perfectly rounded river pebbles.
"???"
At the very top of the pile of rocks sat a small, neatly folded note:
[Borrowed the funds for a high-yield investment. Don't worry, old buddy, I'll pay you back with interest! —Sampo]
"..."
"DAMN IT!" Kenta roared.
Plan B was a bust. Left with no other choice, he reached back into his bag for his final tool. "Fine! Stealth it is. We observe the patrol patterns and move through the gaps. I had Sampo smuggle these binoculars from the Overworld. Top-of-the-line optics. One hundred Shields well spent..."
As he brought the binoculars to his eyes, the central connecting shaft snapped with a sickening crack. The lenses hit the dirt and shattered into a thousand useless pieces.
"..."
"SAMPO! YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!" Kenta slammed his fists into the ground.
===
Note: This story is currently available up to chapter 40 on my Patreon, go check it out.
exclusive 18+ character images, and early chapters, please visit my Patreon. Thanks for your support!
https://p4treon.com/roaverse
if you want more updates == supports with power stones
Every 10 Power Stones==Bonus Chapter
every three 5-star reviews == Bonus Chapter