Hyakinthos's screams echoed without end!
The arena—no, all of Orario—fell into a brief, deathly silence.
What had they just witnessed?
Roy had released magic without completing his chant!
Hyakinthos's entire body was charred black, his hair blown apart. Worst of all was that once-handsome face—like it had been roasted in a furnace, completely unrecognizable.
Bang!
Roy dashed forward in a single step, seized Hyakinthos by the head, and smashed it violently into the ground, burying his face deep into the arena floor.
"Impossible?!"
"Your chant wasn't finished—how could you release magic?!" Hyakinthos screamed in breakdown, rolling his eyes with great difficulty as he stared at Roy.
Pinning the struggling Hyakinthos down, Roy smiled.
"Who knows? Sometimes it just comes out."
No one believed that explanation.
Hermes analyzed calmly, "It's impossible to release magic if the chant is interrupted. Either his spell consists only of what he just recited… or—"
"Chantless Magic!"
At those words, shock rippled through the crowd. Even the gods were no exception—many of them stood up on the spot.
A miracle!
Since the gods descended to the Lower World and bestowed blessings upon the various races, thousands of years had passed. Countless skills and spells had been discovered by drawing out mortal potential.
Even the simplest magic required an ultra-short chant—at the very least, two words.
Yet Roy's magic could be released at any time.
An absurdly, absurdly rare form of magic!
The gods' breathing quickened, like starving wolves staring at a slab of fresh meat.
That overwhelming speed also shattered the composure of mages who could only stand still to cast spells. Their eyes burned red as they stared at the boy in the arena.
Ever since the Goliath subjugation, Roy had been laying a trap for Hyakinthos, deliberately making him believe that his magic required chanting.
During Roy's "chant," Hyakinthos naturally assumed he had turned into a living target, letting his guard down as he charged in.
The result was exactly this—
Taking Roy's magic head-on.
Hyakinthos quickly pieced everything together. Terror flooded his eyes as he looked at Roy.
From that moment onward… Roy had been calculating him.
Terrifying.
"Hah!"
Roy let out a roar, hunching forward as he sprinted ahead. Grabbing Hyakinthos by the head, he dragged his face across the ground like a rag, grinding it violently against the arena floor.
Hyakinthos couldn't even scream anymore—
"Enough! Justice has sprouted—the match is decided!"
Shakti, captain of the Ganesha Familia, leapt forward as the referee. If this continued, someone was going to die.
Roy turned his head and stared coldly at Shakti.
Shakti subconsciously took a step back.
It felt as though she were being stared down by an enraged lion—an absurd sensation. She was a Lv.5 adventurer, yet a mere Lv.2 Roy made her feel a flicker of danger.
Hyakinthos already had one foot in the grave.
Unconscious, his face completely ground flat, flesh torn and mangled—no longer recognizable as human.
In the stands, Ryuu frowned. The moment Roy's magic hit, Hyakinthos had already lost. Everything Roy did afterward was pure brutality.
Goddess Astraea spoke softly,
"Daphne—the child who cooperated with Roy—was subjected to private punishment by Hyakinthos and beaten to severe injuries."
Ryuu suddenly understood.
That was the source of Roy's rage.
In the end, it was Apollo Familia's own doing—the retribution for forcibly dragging others into their Familia.
Looking again at the boy's back, Ryuu seemed to grasp something.
There was justice in his heart as well.
At that moment, the elven girl began to truly acknowledge Roy as a member of the Astraea Familia.
Hermes pulled his hat down.
"So this 'hero candidate' has quite the personality."
"Hyakinthos is defeated. 'Justice Budding' Roy is victorious. I hereby declare the winner of this War Game to be the Astraea Familia!"
The announcement rang out loudly.
"OOOOOOOOH—!"
A tsunami of cheers erupted.
No one cared about Roy's brutal treatment of Hyakinthos. In Orario, where strength was revered, the strong crushing the weak was nothing unusual.
Wasn't Apollo Familia the same—using force to coerce others?
This time, they had kicked an iron plate.
More importantly, the boy before them was a true strong one—the kind who dared to draw his blade against stronger foes.
Today, they had witnessed a miracle.
From ancient times to the present, the vast gap between levels had been an unquestionable truth. A Lv.2 defeating a Lv.3 was almost unheard of!
Roy's technique, schemes, magic—everything about him set hearts racing.
Even Lv.5 and Lv.6 adventurers felt their blood boil.
Seasoned veterans like them had gradually adopted safer fighting styles, forgetting their weaker days—when, to defeat stronger enemies, they used every means possible.
Lose your weapon? Use your fists.
Lose your fists? Use your teeth.
No matter what, carve your mark into the enemy—even if it costs your life.
Roy's battle reminded them of one thing:
Adventurers must take risks.
"To the Dungeon!"
Many adventurers sprinted straight toward Babel Tower, diving headlong into the Dungeon. If they didn't vent this surge of adrenaline, they wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.
Of course, others chose a different outlet—
The pleasure quarter controlled by the Ishtar Familia, where tonight was destined to be filled with thunderous activity.
Praise from the gods poured down like a storm, their goodwill lavished upon Roy without restraint.
"He's got some skill, alright…" Loki muttered under her breath, then clutched her head in pain. She couldn't think like that—or she'd fall back into regret again.
A doll-like blonde girl with exquisite beauty gazed calmly at Roy in the arena, then lowered her head to look at her longsword, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.
The one in the deepest despair, however, was Apollo.
"Impossible… Hyakinthos lost?"
Apollo collapsed to the ground as if paralyzed, staring at the arena in disbelief, desperately wishing everything he saw was nothing more than a nightmare.
Protected by Ryuu, Goddess Astraea walked toward Apollo. Each step echoed like a heavy hammer, slamming into his heart.
"Wait, Astraea—I was just joking with you," Apollo said, his face deathly pale.
The gentle smile on Astraea's beautiful face did not change.
"Apollo, leave Orario."
The punishment had long since been decided.
All assets of the Apollo Familia were confiscated.
Members who had been forcibly recruited were freed, allowed to decide their own future.
Apollo was exiled—never again permitted to set foot in Orario, and bound by oath to never again use violence to force others into his Familia.
Apollo let out a despairing wail.
Each punishment was like carving flesh from his heart.
The gods laughed.
The more miserable their brother was, the more amused they became.
The penalties of a War Game could not be refused.
After all—
If you refuse to go quietly, the gods have plenty of ways to make sure you do.
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