The following day, dusk went darker in the City of Gods. The family never had a late driver, even on holidays. So after hours of touring, Dwarf Haven’s neon signs caught their eyes. On the night out of the bold and new, Yukino loved every sip of her orange juice. Haruto pointed at the menu for his wife’s treat, but some even bolder ignored their status.

“I would like—” he said, yet nearby customers brayed louder with every ask. Luckily, the news-savvy bartender suggested some handpicked favorites. Mead from sage bees wasn’t strong but still had a nice kick. Tokino smiled, excited for her first taste. Haruto couldn’t enjoy his own if he tried.

Once the laughter stopped, he sighed in relief. But after a mere second, storytelling of equal noise echoed around the place. The customers had thrown bottles and ashtrays everywhere. The bartender moved his head away, and another second in, Tokino.

Seeing the stained wall, Haruto grunted and turned. “Would you stop that!”

The moment had seized, but one smirked. “Oooooh… Some rando here told us to ‘stop.’ By the Gods, repentance shan’t make do no more!” He pretend-fainted, hand over the forehead. Laughter went at its peak.

Three seconds in, another raised a hand. “Hey, hey, guys. Guys! Wait a minute.” He pointed at Haruto. “I know that boy right there. That’s the asshole who shoved me at the mall!” The man lumbered toward the archmage. Bulky, muscular, a beer gut, and he even had hair down his neck. At 190 cm, one might wonder how many bumps his forehead had gotten.

“Ayo, dipshit,” he pushed Haruto, voice hoarse as if smoking since adolescence. “That’s my seat now. You owe me that.”

He kept a stern look, sipping his drink. “I don’t owe you anything.”

All teeth, the man chuckled. “Oh, yeah? Why tho?”

He finished the mead and sighed. “Because I believe you shoved me first.” He glared at even his friends. Alas, another braying went with them.

“Really now?” the man grinned, lifting his bottle. “Ya ain’t gon’ like what Imma do next, asshole.”

“I’ll take my chance—”

Haruto interrupted himself after a mouthful of alcohol spray. His family gasped, smelling the foul stench. It all dripped down his head, but he never wavered. Wiping his face and clothes, he ordered another mead. Alas, the man drank his again.

“As I said… I’ll take my chance—” He uttered nothing at that point, drying himself twice. But the silence only made their joy reach every limit.

“Hahahahahaha! Ya see this, bros!?” the man turned. “What an absolute pussy! I thought he’d shank me to death with those two fancy swords. But nope! All the usual for fuck boys like him!” He pointed behind with a thumb.

Haruto sulked and clenched his fists, heart racing. Tokino knew such calm rage too well and wanted none from her husband. Yet before she could suggest someplace else, another anger slipped her mind.

Yukino stood tall against her father’s bullies. “Leave Papa alone! What’s he ever done to you!”

Sadly, the laughter went endless. The man grinned more and looked down. “Uh oh. I’ve hurt poor widdle Tiffany’s feelings now! What’s next? You gon’ protect him with your noodle arms?” His arm cocked back, bottle at hand. “Hey, brat… think fast!”

The assault reeled the air around it at 5m/s. Unable to move, Yukino blinked in reflex. But she felt nothing, not a sting in any second. Eyes open, she gasped at her savior. Haruto lay the bottle on the table, staring daggers toward the culprit. So he drew his bigger swords. Humiliation had dripped down like a coat, but his princess, the red line.

Even then, the man chuckled. “Oooooh… So now you gon’ shank me. Huh, bitch!? Too bad your girlfriend will stop ya.” His friends laughed together.

“No, I won’t do that at all,” said Tokino softly, cradling Yukino in her arms. Her death glare could choke even a firedrake. “You harassed my husband and tried hurting my daughter. You deserve this. Tenfold.”

He felt so much more rage in her, but he snickered. “Hahahahahaha! I deserve this? Then, I think daddy here deserves a can of ass-whoopin’, that’s what!” He beat his chest, both fists in unison. “Wanna fucking go, boy!? Come get some!”

“Yeah! Go get ’em, Alfonso!” cheered a friend. “Throw his ass to hell and back!”

The man towered over Haruto, the latter being 172 cm, and the wife stood an inch shorter. Chuckling again, he threw a straight punch in glee. But as the air had whirled, he merely hit an afterimage. Confused and beyond, he couldn’t notice the archmage from behind. Time slowed to a crawl, and a downward slash neared his back.

Only Tokino foresaw the outcome. She had a clear mental image of her husband’s foot atop the unconscious man. But the unexpected occurred beyond logic, as another had slowly merged. It all felt familiar, yet her memories failed. Either way, she sweated bullets, unable to warn him.

Within milliseconds, the man turned with a toothy grin. Right through his afterimage, Haruto had splintered the floorboards instead.

“Hey!” the bartender looked down. “Those don’t come cheap, monsieur!”

He yanked out his gold sword. What? What the hell happened? I swore that I— From behind, he heard the tune of ‘Danny Boy.’ Unfamiliar with every lyric, he stood confused even more. But it was the man indeed, but now a different feel overall. Like a horror movie, his form transfigured in moving lumps.

A minute into the song, Haruto fell to his knees upon an overwhelming pressure. His family felt less, but Yukino hid behind her mother. Tokino made sure she was closer and drew her rapier, sweating more. They backed further away in primal instinct. Even the man’s buddies now had the presence of hardened veterans.

Haruto could barely stand on his elbows, grunting. T-This isn’t like magic at all! He struggled, grunting to look up. Once again, the man’s chuckle shined every tooth.

“Boy… you’re way too easy.”

As this story went on, fate had actually blessed Haruto since that moment.

Seven hours ago, the City of Gods had an unusual invasion. Hordes of black ink dwellbeasts sprawled, never observed in groups before. They’d fought against six imperial and two archmages.

The brigade evacuated every citizen to the underground bunkers. Every hatch only opened via runes they learned to cast. No casualties occurred, as even the elderly became nimble. Despite their laxer uniform than Vetus’ brigade (red cape and beret), it still bore their prideful emblem: a gold twelve-pointed star in an oval ring surrounded by smaller ones.

The archmage present at the northside was twenty-eight-year-old Feuer Glatteis, Novus delegate. Alone, he killed scores of dwellbeasts. But the horde didn’t stagnate, roaring in a stampede. Two imperial mages stepped in. “We’ll handle this for you, man. Go!” one shouted.

Feuer nodded and followed his same-ranked comrade, Danielle Elfman. Now at the westside, he squinted at the horrid site. A mass of the creatures fused into a flood, engulfing skyscrapers.

“All decided to retreat from here,” Danielle pointed. “Too much for them to handle. Somehow, they’re pouring up here and not anywhere else.” She slicked her long, wavy crown from the wind. Blonde and brunette, a divine mix, as even a frilly red gown went dimmer.

“Ever seen Hokori anywhere?” Feuer swayed his cape.

“Hell if I know…” her green eyes rolled, looking away disappointed.

He sighed. “Then I shall bring Hell itself to that man once I bring the filth theirs.” Pompeiian Rhapsody clad his right arm, aiming an even bigger flood toward the unluckiest. The whole westside, now a sea of bubbling magma, had foes drown into ash. But with a snap, all gone. Even the trees and grass only had embers of his attack.

Danielle raised a brow. “Man… If you didn’t have that perk, you could’ve killed us all faster than these things.”

“Quiet,” he walked past her. “They still come in droves, like a sink turned on. It is beyond unnatural. I shall mitigate their numbers here. Assist the other lot.” More magma had clad his left.

She raised another. “Shouldn’t they be helping you out here?”

“I’ve not said that over some heroic resolve, old friend. I needn’t any of your hands, for I have many. Stay keen elsewhere.” He stared at his remaining foes cold, still in a roar.

Danielle shrugged, eyes closed. “Suit yourself. Once Hokori’s here, it’d be like he destroyed our city first.

She flew to the eastside on a floating piano. Three of the imperials had left to protect the north and south. “I’ll take it from here, folks,” she landed behind them. “Gotta nip this fiasco in the bud before the human calamity shows up.”

Birds of Symphonia made her create and control instruments of any size. As one of the few having named techniques, she first used “Eh…?”. Ant-sized flutes formed inside the monsters’ ear canals. At 150 dB, literally ear-piercing. Their drums raptured out as black goo. They howled, wobbling in a tumble. Yet her comrades heard nothing. As luck would have it, oscillations were in her command.

It didn’t affect the dwellbeasts farther away. All transformed into giant arms to perform their infamous thunderclaps. Danielle had eyes wide, the land warping right at her. But she smirked for another move: “Echo Chamber.” Within seconds, a massive tuba made everything quiet, even for them. She chuckled and redirected all the noise. Now they had heard.

Skyscrapers collapsed into coarse rubble and broken glass. The shockwave didn’t stop until the city walls, a mega annum-old masterpiece. With a few monsters left charging, Danielle smirked once more. “Piano Wire” had her unusual transport open its lid and shred all to ribbons.

She wiped her forehead. “Believe me. This property damage is nothing compared to Hokori’s fun time.” She flew away to the south.

An imperial’s mouth dropped upon fifteen city blocks gone in a row. “Why do they take that as pride?” he squinted at his comrade.

At the westside, Feuer had still ashed the endless flood. At least now, it was more like a stream. So all this chaos does have an end. I’ve to finish this once and for—

The dwellbeasts shot more tendrils enough to graze his cheek. After three flash-steps, he clad himself in igneous armor. He jumped atop a pile of concrete debris. None could now dent his eyes but still annoying. “So be it…” a hint of anger slipped, hand raised. “I shall return your favor with interest!”

They entered the light upon his tendrils, screams short from the mouth. The magma punched holes right through the border. To think palladium wasn’t as indestructible as advertised.

Ten hectares wide, the city center. Home of its mages and only royalty, Harald Pompilius MXXV. Within a sea-deep moat lay four stone arms touching every endpoint around each other. Each open palm up high could fit any hamlet. All lushed in green, steel-feathered cranes flew and nested. A murder condor instigated a chase.

Citizens rumored the first Harald issued such a marvel to reach the Gods higher. Yet the current one laughed at the notion every time. His ancestor was obsessed with luxury, he told.

Curiously, he wasn’t ashamed of his expenses, issuing a home in the middle. Perhaps some had a taste for black obelisks with a bronze spheroid atop. As for its rotating rings, nobody got a clue. He only told them about the minuscule runes engraved on each.

Sadly, this meant no mage could contact him. To end his red cheeks, he had placed runic circles on each of the four estates. Now but an average joe could visit his home.

Teleportation needed time to get used to. More mansion than a palace, it conveyed a different luxury. He once thanked an earthly show about British aristocrats in bed.

Aria Viento, Feuer’s comrade delegate, walked up the grand staircase. She took three steps like no other, literally. Somehow, she had the courtesy to fix her straight black crown. It didn’t stop her from kicking the double doors at the end like a police raid.

The throne room had a long rectangular table with twelve chairs. Aria never had a favorite seat, preferring the carpet. Heaven, she rolled three times. Each wall and corner had solid gold statues of previous archmages. Purple banners with Coelestis’ emblem hung between each.

Ornate and golden as ever, the throne itself lay at the end. Aria threw an empty chalice at it and kneeled. “Your majesty, the dwellbeasts number by the thousands. If this goes on, the walking trash might be overwhelmed. May I suggest we dispatch more of our deadweights unto the field?”

Harald had looked at a holoscreen that surveilled the whole city. He turned the throne around. “That won’t be necessary even after ninety lifetimes, Ms. Viento.” He walked past her, hands tied from behind.

“What do you mean?” she followed, never to beat him in the ‘race.’

He stopped and chuckled. “Madame… one archmage can cull an entire populace. They’re just treading carefully not to obliterate our home. Hence why they need my six royal guards. Still, I can’t stop our champion’s free spirit. But we’re now lucky I can fix all in the end, unlike last time.”

“Understood, your majesty,” she bowed. “Yet the Worm Emperor hasn’t shown up at all. I’m confused.”

The king chuckled again, looking through another screen. “Oh, he will. He’s just taking his time to savor the moment. To ensure he’ll always have the last laugh.”