The War(1)

--- Ren's POV ---

The front lines in any war were undeniably brutal, where the toll of lives lost was at its highest. I knew this truth all too well, having left a trail of destruction in my wake during my past encounters. Today's battlefield would be no different.

Glancing over at the Hestia Familia not too far from us, I noticed Bell Cranel had returned to his usual self. However, the weight of their missing comrade hung heavy on them, casting an awkward atmosphere among the group.

The secondary characters who survived were also present, but I couldn't muster much interest in them. To me, they were mere additions to the backdrop of this war, insignificant in the grand scheme.

My focus was drawn to the approaching black-robed figures in the distance. As tension filled the air, I stole a glance at my beautiful girlfriend, who was on high alert with her hand already resting on the hilt of her sword.

During the weeks of training, she had shown remarkable progress. While she hadn't fully mastered the technique she used instinctively to save me, she was getting closer to understanding the natural direction she needed to take.

Mastering the sword wasn't an infinite exploration but rather a series of fixed steps, though most people misunderstood it. Relying solely on the sword would eventually reach a limit where it could no longer elevate one's skills—I had experienced that firsthand.

The challenge lay in discovering those steps, which varied for each individual. For Ais, imbuing her feelings into the sword came naturally, but she lacked the proper knowledge to do it correctly, sometimes overwhelming her blade to the point of breaking.

Teaching her self-control had been relatively easy. Now, she exerted proper command over her emotions, preventing her rage from spiraling out of control.

However, I couldn't simply spoon-feed her the rest of the puzzle. Her sword mastery had to be genuine, not merely a replica of my own. I knew the pieces she needed to complete the puzzle, but she had to find her answers independently.

She was on the right path now, and all I could do was support her by showing her my journey, hoping she would discover her own way to complete the puzzle.

On that day, I made a conscious choice to wield my sword, adopting the appearance of your typical Isekai MC. It might have seemed cliché, but I had my reasons for doing so. Concealed beneath that guise, however, was my true weapon—hidden in case of necessity.

But now wasn't the time to be distracted by my appearance. The black-robed figures before us possessed an uncanny ability to conceal their identities, making them shrouded in mystery. Even my own prying eyes couldn't penetrate their disguise, nor could I discern anything behind their masks.

As whispers among the adventurers revealed, their attire matched that of the one who declared war upon us. Their identities must be of utmost importance for them to go to such lengths. Personally, I couldn't care less about their names or origins.

What struck me as odd was the absence of Rakia's Ares on the front lines. The warmonger, who reveled in battles, was nowhere to be seen in this critical moment? It seemed inconceivable.

As my mind raced to find answers, the leader of the black-robed figures stepped forward to address us.

"Good evening, esteemed guests. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Zero, a name bestowed upon me by the powerful and great ones who seek to transform this world into a paradise for us. If you wish to avoid needless bloodshed, I suggest you all surrender and embrace faith in our benevolent Lords. They have assured us that those who believe in them shall be spared today..."

The deep tone of the voice hinted at the fact the person behind the mask was a male, but it was not as important. His words were met with maniacal laughter and a barrage of insults from many of the adventurers. To them, the concept of "faith" was almost alien. They worshipped only the Gods who presided over their Familias and respected other Gods merely due to their divine status. But this fanatic was on another level entirely.

It wasn't hard to deduce that the Forgotten Ones were behind this, but the fact that they employed mortals instead of directly sending Malachi back hinted at some limitations they faced in this world. Knowing this gave me some comfort, as facing a full-powered God with my current strength was out of the question.

If a God could harm Ais without any effort, my only recourse was to become a God myself and confront them head-on. Protecting Ais in that way would indeed be possible, but it would also require me to leave this world forever and descend as a weak avatar. The thought of such a humiliating situation weighed heavily on my mind.

I was there for Ais, to protect her, not to seek protection myself. If I couldn't fulfill my role as her guardian, it would be better for me to not be there at all.

But such thoughts were mere conjecture—I prayed that such a situation would never come to pass.

"Foolish!" These loud words snapped me from my thoughts, the voice cutting through the chaotic noise. "How dare you tarnish your Lords' names with this bloodthirsty madness. If it's a massacre you seek, then a massacre you shall face!"

The adventurers continued hurling insults, some daring to ridicule the so-called 'Lords.' The reaction from these sick fanatics was swift and ruthless, their rage reaching its zenith.

In an instant, I found myself locked in a fierce clash with one of their warriors. His sword moved with astonishing speed, catching me off guard.

His strikes came fast and relentless, forcing me to react. My blade met his, and a burst of sparks erupted between us. Each clash resonated with an almost divine intensity.

I had expected them to be lower-level opponents, but their strength defied their levels, confounding my senses.

It seemed there was more than I expected behind these gigolos.

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Author's Note:

I'm back! Sorry for not posting for a while, but I am sick + I had an exam to finish. Now, I can write again!