The day had arrived.
Hestia, adorned in her divine robes, made her way up the grand steps of the Tower of Babel, where the Gods would spectate the War Game. The specially designed chamber had been built for this very purpose—giving the divine audience the best view of the battlefield while allowing them to use their Arcanum freely to broadcast the spectacle across Orario.
Gods of all alignments and ambitions had gathered, some in casual attire, others wearing grandiose outfits befitting their divine egos. Among them, Hermes, ever the showman, adjusted his hat and raised a hand.
"May I have permission to activate our Arcanum for the War Game's broadcast?" He asked, his usual mischievous smirk in place.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, a voice—ancient, vast, and undeniable—rumbled through the chamber.
"Granted."
The divine decree of Ouranos echoed across the heavens, and instantly, golden light shimmered into existence. Countless divine mirrors formed throughout Orario and beyond, reaching cities like Melen. Adventurers, merchants, nobles, and common folk alike gathered before the floating reflections, eagerly awaiting the battle's commencement.
Down in the main plaza, fiery Inferno Flame, a well-known member of Ganesha Familia, grabbed a voice-amplifying magic tool and shouted:
"Ladies and gentlemen, Gods and Mortals, welcome to the War Game! I, the great Inferno Flame, will be your announcer for today's battle! And providing commentary with me, is none other than the God of Festivals, the Great Ganesha himself!"
"I AM GANESHA!" came the loud, boisterous declaration.
The crowd roared in excitement.
Inside the divine spectator chamber, Apollo sneered, crossing his arms. "Hmph. Hestia, I hope you've said your goodbyes to Bell and Harry. This will be their last day as your adventurers."
Hestia tilted her head, grinning. "You should really learn to shut up. Double the pride, double the fall, Apollo."
Throughout Orario, betting stalls were flooded with wagers. Most bets were placed in Apollo's favor—after all, how could a small Familia of only four members possibly win against an army of over a hundred? But a few keen individuals bet on the underdogs, sensing an upset.
Among them, Syr stood near a divine mirror, chewing her lip in concern. She liked both Bell and Harry, but something inside her—or rather, Freya—told her there was no need to worry. She had felt Harry's power once, and it reminded her of only one other person: the Level 9 Empress of the Hera Familia.
At the Loki Familia estate, Finn, Riveria, Gareth, Ais, Tiona, Tione, and even Bete sat before the projection, watching closely.
The War Game was about to begin.
A massive GONG sounded, signaling the start.
The battlefield consisted of two castles—one occupied by Apollo Familia, the other by Hestia Familia. The win conditions were simple: capture the enemy flag and return it, or completely eliminate the opposing team.
Yet, as the game began, only one figure stood before Apollo's fortress.
Standing atop a small hill, bathed in sunlight, was Harry.
He was alone.
The archers and mages stationed on Apollo Familia's walls immediately took aim. Inside the tower, Apollo's captain, Hyakinthos, sneered in amusement.
"Is he serious? He's attacking alone?"
Before anyone could react, Harry lifted a hand.
A swirling sphere of blue-green light formed at his fingertips—a technique he had adapted from the Gran Rey Cero, removing the Killing Curse componentto make it non-lethal.
Then—
BOOM!
A titanic explosion engulfed the entire front section of Apollo's castle, obliterating walls, barricades, and unfortunately for Hyakinthos—his command tower.
The spectators gasped in horror and awe. The frontline defense had been completely shattered before the battle even truly began.
Hyakinthos, now forced onto the battlefield, staggered to his feet, covered in dust and debris.
"…Tch!" He gritted his teeth and pointed at Harry. "Get into formation! Archers, fire! Mages, cast!"
100 vs. 1.
Harry smirked.
His presence alone was suffocating. His eyes gleamed with absolute confidence.
From the Tower, gods and mortals watched in morbid curiosity.
Then, Harry finally spoke.
"Is this supposed to be an army? Is this your response to my attack, Apollo Familia?"
He scoffed, shaking his head.
"Very well then, Orario, I shall show you how to dance."
Hyakinthos scoffed, mistaking it for arrogance. "Kill him."
The horde of adventurers charged.
Arrows rained down. Spells surged forward. Warriors rushed in with weapons drawn.
Harry?
He walked.
Then ran.
Then sprinted.
Then—he vanished.
Before they could react, he was already among them.
CRACK! A soldier's spear was snapped in half.
BAM! Another adventurer was sent flying with a casual flick of his wrist.
Harry caught an arrow with his teeth and spat it out, striking an archer in the leg.
His movements were absurd. He weaved through the crowd like a phantom, dodging every strike, deflecting spells with his bare hands, and countering attacks with effortless grace.
Within minutes—
The battlefield was silent.
The entire Apollo Familia army lay defeated.
The only ones still standing were Cassandra, who had fallen unconscious due to sheer shock, and Hyakinthos, now trembling.
Hestia was giggling madly in the Tower, while the other gods stared at her in sheer disbelief.
Hyakinthos tried to steady his breath, gripping his sword tightly. "T-This isn't possible… You didn't just defeat them—you humiliated them!"
Harry smirked.
"What, you thought a bunch of half-baked adventurers could take me out? Nah. You actually thought you had a chance! Hahaha! Orario, did you hear this guy? He really believed he could win with this garbage!"
Hyakinthos charged in desperation.
His sword came down—only for Harry to catch it.
Harry caught it mid-swing between 3 fingers.
Hyakinthos's face went pale.
Harry snapped the blade segment by segment, slowly.
Hyakinthos whimpered.
Harry lifted him by the throat—
Then let go, allowing him to drop.
And as he fell, Harry whispered:
"Night-night, Sunny-boy."
BAM!
A single backhand slap knocked him out cold.
Silence.
The War Game was over.
Hestia cheered, turning toward Apollo with a predatory grin. The sun god shivered.
"Well, well, Apollo," she hummed. "You know the deal. I win, so… you give me everything. Your mansion, your resources, and most importantly… you leave Orario forever."
Apollo turned ghost-white.
All across Orario, cheers erupted.
The Hestia Familia had won.