“He whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!”
Loki’s question was like a spark, and soon the whole hall was abuzz.
The main goal of Denatus was the sharing of information. Most tidbits ended up being nothing but frivolous gossip merely meant to relieve some boredom, but on the off chance someone had news relating to Orario or the Dungeon, they’d identify it as a point of discussion and share it appropriately.
Denatus was a meeting of the most influential gods and goddesses of Orario, and those same gods had a duty to relay any- and everything of note.
This often resulted in a wild affair.
Gods raised their hands left and right, spouting off their opinions in a sort of mass chaos akin to a congressional parliament. One topic led to another, which led to yet another, and conversations were always in a constant state of flux and laced with riotous laughter.
The “solemn assembly of the gods” many mortals envisioned when they imagined the Denatus was, in fact, nothing of the sort. If they had a chance to see what the event was really like, most would probably say, “So our gods act exactly the same as always…”
“All right, everyone quiet for a sec!”
Loki’s shout instantly silenced the cacophony of voices all trying to prove their points.
“Lessee now. Lookin’ at everything that’s been brought up, it seems the matter we need to address the most is the whole Rakia shebang. For the time bein’, we’ll relay what we know to the Guild. Having said that, I highly doubt ol’ Ouranos isn’t aware. But anyway, as some of ya here’ve probably already called your familias together, could one of ya take care of it?”
“Got it!”
Loki exercised her authority as chair to deal with the topic promptly and concisely.
The other gods nodded in obedient agreement.
“Ah, right. ’S it okay if I throw one more issue of my own into the pot?” Loki cut in with a little grin once it seemed the other gods had run out of topics and there was a lull in the conversation.
She ran her eyes around the entirety of the table, letting them fall conspicuously on two certain male gods sitting a short distance away from each other.
The two gods—the golden-haired Dionysus and the gentlemanly Hermes—squinted with identical little smiles in response.
“Recently, a nasty new monster species has been comin’ out of the woodwork. We saw ’em at ’Philia and now they’re even showin’ up at safety points.”
There was a simultaneous flinch from a number of the gods.
The stunning silver-locked goddess of beauty threw Loki a sidelong glance as the young, buxom goddess next to Hephaistos cocked her head to the side in oblivious curiosity.
Several deities, whose familias earned a living in the Dungeon or sent many of their adventurers to Rivira, were wearing very stiff expressions on their usually graceful features—perhaps they knew something? Or some of their followers had already become victims of those creatures?
“These vibrant little beasties look like someone went at ’em with a paintbrush. They’re ’bout as strong as a second-tier adventurer…and damn elusive, too. They have a tendency to show up wherever they goddamn well please, whether it’s in the Dungeon or even the city itself.”
Loki was probing now.
Or perhaps shaking things up was a better phrase.
The real reason Loki had aggressively pushed to be the host this month was for this opportunity—a chance to look straight into the eyes of all those assembled and gauge their reactions. She was hoping for some kind of clue as to just who was behind the events surrounding the recent Monsterphilia, the eighteenth floor, and the twenty-fourth-floor pantry.
Something to connect the flesh-eating viola flowers, the crystal orb fetus, the half-human, half-monster creatures, and the remnants of the Evils.
The intensely hued monsters Aiz and the others had first faced on their previous expedition could have easily overthrown the whole city if they pleased. This grave reason was what spurred Loki into gradually involving herself more and more with Dionysus and Hermes’s little scheme since their secret meeting in the bar a few days prior, and the same reason they were laying their trap now.
The plan was to smoke out the suspects.
In my opinion, every single god in this city is a suspect—and an enemy of my children.
Dionysus had remarked, still feeling the sting of his own lost followers.
Villains were unfortunately plentiful in the ranks of the gods, and Loki found herself unable to deny his assertion. Every single god and goddess at the round table was a suspect.
One of them could be the mastermind behind everything—the destroyer of cities, “Enyo.”
There was a corrupt god among them. One with allies underground in the Dungeon as well as on the surface, aligned with the surviving Evils.
Loki and the others would be using this month’s Denatus to investigate the identity of this leader as well as his or her accomplices.
It would be tonight, at this banquet for the city’s most powerful gods.
“Watch yourselves, everyone, ’cause I’ve also heard tell about some naughty little good-for-nothin’ reprobates scuttlin’ around and makin’ a nuisance of themselves lately.”
Loki’s scarlet eyes narrowed as a thin smile graced her lips, her nose sniffing for that undeniable stench that could come from only an Evil.
Dionysus and Hermes, too, kept their eyes alert for any suspicious behavior among those seated at the table.
The newcomers to the mortal plane—those who’d been in Orario for only two or three years now—suspiciously examined those around the table while the rest of the women exaggeratedly brought their hands to their mouths and mumbled, “Well, you know…” and the men snickered among themselves with sardonic expressions, saying, “Sooo scaaary.”
The probing had begun in earnest, and now every deity was involved.
“Can I say something, too?!”
A voice.
From a table rose a finely sculpted bronze arm.
It was followed by the owner himself—none other than Ganesha, the god in the elephant mask.
“First, let me just start by saying…I am Ganesha!”
“Yeah, yeah, we got it. Sit down already.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant to say! I wanted to start by apologizing for the debacle at the Monsterphilia!” Ganesha corrected himself after Loki’s insulting brush-off. “But you must understand—I swear on the name of Ganesha, Lord of Hosts, that those violas you speak of are not related to my familia! You must believe me!!” He continued from atop his chair, constantly changing his pose.
Ganesha Familia had cooperated with the Guild to host Monsterphilia. The elephant-masked god was using this opportunity here at Denatus to apologize ardently for letting those monsters run wild during the event, as well as recognizing the efforts of another god and her followers who worked to bring the commotion under control.
Loki subtly shifted her attention to one person who had been responsible for at least half of the mess in the first place—the silver-haired goddess of beauty, who was currently sipping a cup of tea she had received from a divine fan of hers.
Ganesha wanted to make it very clear that he knew nothing about the monsters involved in the incident.
“And another thing! Those same monsters down on the eighteenth floor killed some of my followers, too! I have no idea whether the two incidents are related, but I would very much like to avenge my children!! If anyone has any information, I ask wholeheartedly that you bring it forward!” Ganesha slammed his fist on the table.
He referred now to the top-secret quest one of his followers, Hashana Dorlia, had been given to retrieve the crystal-orb fetus, and which ultimately had gotten him killed by the crimson-haired creature Levis.
A pair of tears rolled out from the bottom of the aggrieved deity’s elephant mask, tracing the curves of his cheeks.
Seeing the normally eccentric god actually shedding tears wa
s enough to make the other gods stop short, their mouths clamping shut.
“Why…why, Hashana?! To be killed during coitus…! To be seduced by a bombshell only to lose his life—ah! I’m so jealous! Why couldn’t that have been me?!”
“The hell? Hashana didn’t kick the bucket while he was getting it on,” Loki interjected as Ganesha continued to weep hot tears of envy.
“What?”
Somehow or another, the god had gotten the impression that his follower had been slain while in the arms of a buxom beauty.
Loki stared indifferently at the ridiculous elephant mask adorning the god’s face. The temporary suspense that had seized the room was broken in an instant by Ganesha’s characteristic banality.
Sigh. “Typical…!” Loki exclaimed as a strange atmosphere settled over the room.
Throwing a quick glance at Dionysus and Hermes, both of whom were smiling wryly, she decided to halt the search here and return to the real matter at hand.
“Anyone have anything else to say? We all good?” she asked, assuming her hostly duties again.
From the indifference of her peers, it seemed everyone was fresh out of gossip. She scanned the circumference of the table…then decided to carry on as planned.
Lips curling upward, she returned to her usual antics.
“Well then, let’s carry on, shall we? Time for the naming ceremony.”
Almost instantaneously, a strange sense of tension gripped the room.
The moment the words had passed from her lips, the faces of the gods and goddesses who’d yet to participate in the conversation grew pale, the young, busty goddess next to Hephaistos included.
Loki smirked together with the other Denatus regulars, the lot of them boasting their most depraved smiles of the day.
The real feast, the farce, was about to begin.
“All reports have been shared proper, yeah? Then let’s get started! Lessee now, our top batter for today is…Seti of Ceto Familia!”
“P-please go easy on me…!!”
“““““““““Denied!”””””””””
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”
It was time to bequeath aliases upon the newly leveled-up adventurers—the monthly naming ceremony.
Every adventurer’s official nickname was decided at Denatus, from Aiz’s “Sword Princess” to Tiona’s “Amazon.”
These aliases, as they were called, were names bequeathed by the gods, meant to extol the exploits of the mortal recipient. They signified the official recognition of deusdea, acting as a symbol of the strength and renown of the chosen adventurer.
Those on the lower world who’d not yet been able to attain one of these refined names from the gods viewed their compatriots with respect and envy.
“All right! Adventurer Erika Rosalia…nickname, Violante!”
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”
However, the gods themselves did not view this venerable custom with the same excitement as their arguably old-fashioned children. In fact, they wanted to avoid it like the plague.
The majority of aliases born from the naming ceremony were names of complete and utter tragedy meant to make the adventurer’s patron deity writhe in discomfort. For a god to see the child they had so carefully raised receive a stigma-inducing name that would become the butt of every joke—it was enough for some to pass out in agony. There was no greater torture in existence.
For the especially mean-spirited gods, seeing an adventurer all proud and haughty about their freshly minted title while their patron deity squirmed in torment was one of the greatest pleasures in all the world and exactly why they couldn’t stop.
As Loki filtered suggestions, took votes, and finally handed down each new name—or perhaps death sentence would be a better phrase—to its unsuspecting adventurer, the patron deities in question howled and wailed in utter despair.
Now that the ceremony’s begun, maybe we can end this on a happy note?
Loki thought to herself as each of the low-level gods at the meeting was subjected to the usual hazing. Though what she really wanted to do was probe a bit further and see whether she could gauge any more reactions, she knew that would be asking for too much.
These thoughts running through her head, she dutifully carried on as host.
“Have we decided on a name for Mikoto Yamato yet? If not, let’s hurry it up!”
“Not yet! I haven’t gotten rid of my karma and suffering from the last ceremony—Angelic Code, the Eternal Virgin Revelations!!”
“Jeanne of Yamato, the Divine Wind of the Far East!”
“Saint Tail, the Holy Spy!”
“You fools! The only real choice here is Salty Angel, the Lovingly Raised!”
“Stop it, stop it, stop iiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt!!”
The round-table debate was really hitting a climax now as the patron deity of the poor hostage adventurer kept wailing in horror. Loki turned her gaze away as the twin-bunned god brought his hands to both sides of his head with great gulping sobs.
Catching her gaze, Dionysus simply shrugged. His subsequent sigh seemed to state the obvious—that their efforts had achieved nothing.
“Dionysus, you’re looking pretty smug over there. Care to join the conversation?”
“Yeah! You actually decided to attend for once, so why not toss out a suggestion, hm?”
“We’ve got quite the task in front of us. Coming up with an alias for that rookie Mikoto who everyone’s been talking about!”
“Oh? Let me think…” Dionysus replied upon instigation from his peers.
All eyes on him, he took a glance at the report on the table and the profile the Guild had created for the adventurer in preparation for her naming. The parchment revealed a beautiful girl from the Far East with jet-black hair.
Dionysus smiled ever so sweetly.
“How about Eternal Shadow?”
“Dionysus, you bastaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard!!”
Once again, this month’s Denatus wouldn’t disappoint.
“All right, then! Mikoto’s title is now…Eternal Shadow!”
“No objections here!” “None from me!” “Sounds good!”
“No, no, no, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!”
The warrior god let out a defeated cry as the votes were cast, solidifying Dionysus’s proposal.
Soon out-of-control laughter from his fellow gods followed. As the grand circus claimed its newest victim, Loki thought to herself of the fun she’d be having soon, as well.
Once the small to medium familias had done their time in the lower reaches of hell, the names of newly leveled-up adventurers from elite familias would be next. The abhorrent aliases would decrease remarkably, no doubt to keep fights from breaking out among the most influential gods and goddesses of the city as their second-tier-plus adventurers were considered. Hephaistos Familia, Ganesha Familia, and Ishtar Familia all had names on the list.
She was able to get through them with naught but a single argument from a certain goddess.
“Let’s steer things back on track, yeah? Next is…” she said with a snicker, “…a big name! My very own Aiz!”
“The Sword Princess arrives at last!!”
“And still as beautiful as ever, to boot.”
“Level Six already? Impressive…”
Loki’s own follower was up, and all eyes were on her.
It was her golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman, boasting the same level of fame and renown as the three leaders of Loki Familia and even matching the current apex of Orario, an adventurer known as the Warlord.
Considering the insane progress she had made in a little over ten short years, simply mentioning the girl had been enough to reinvigorate the room.
The Sword Princess, Aiz Wallenstein, had finally joined the ranks of the Level 6s.
“The little lady has really outdone herself this time.” One of the gods smiled, seemingly overcome with joy, at the si
ght of the doll-like girl and her achievements on the parchment in front of them. The last part of the report was reserved for background details regarding her level-up, which, in Aiz’s case, was her victory over Udaeus, the Monster Rex of the thirty-seventh floor.
To defeat a floor boss single-handedly was a mighty feat, and the revelation put the whole room in a state of feverish elation.
“She beat that thing all on her own? Gods almighty, that girl is dangerous! Even more than Ottar!”
“I wouldn’t say that. Ottar had his own expedition and almost brought down the floor boss Parole by himself. I’d still say he’s more of a force to be reckoned with.”
“But for Udaeus to be laid low…”
“Heh, well, he’s the weakest of the four generals anyway…”
“Quite a disgrace to lose to our idol like that…”
“Hey! Quit picking on Mister Udaeus!!”
“Yeah, he’s the strongest of the four generals! So quit with the bad-mouthing!”
Words of praise and admiration flew back and forth around the table.
Even the young, buxom goddess sitting alongside Hephaistos found herself groaning in spite of herself at the sheer magnitude of the young adventurer’s feat.
“We’ve got more-important things to worry about than Udaeus now. C’mon, we’ve gotta think of a new alias!”
“Hmm…”
“But do we really need to change hers? Seems a bit silly if there’s no reason to.”
“Indeed.”
“If we were to change it…perhaps something like Sword Saint?”
“Sword…Saint?”
“Doesn’t really seem to fit her, though, you think?”
“I don’t know about you guys, but clearly the only viable candidate I see is Our Wife.”
“It’s perfect!” the voices chorused from around the room.
The general ruckus showed no signs of waning, and the gods proceeded at once with the naming, fully prepared to change Aiz’s alias from Sword Princess to Our Wife.
Until.
“I will murder every last one of you.”
The suggestion was effectively rejected by a single glare from Loki.
Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? On the Side: Sword Oratoria, Vol. 5 Page 4
