A Guest Deserves Tea
I hated silence. Because the silence that arrived unbidden always came hand in hand with the loneliness I'd managed to forget.
That loneliness — of being left utterly alone in the world — had always dragged its claws through me, tearing me down.
It's fine. I can endure it. How light a vow that had been. And how crushing the weight of those words turned out to be. The moment I understood that, I wept quietly, all alone, in the deepest dark.
I resented my own recklessness so bitterly.
I don't regret it. But if the moment of choice ever came again... could I make the same choice?
The answer never came, and it tormented me still.
Buried in that silence and darkness, the only thing keeping me company had been the moonlight spilling through the window.
...Or at least, it should have been.
“We've got a guest here — isn't anyone going to bring us some tea?”
“???”
Grandpa, why are YOU here?
*
“Hmph. So he's not one of your private soldiers, then?”
“He is not.”
In the deepest reaches of the Guild's underground, two elder gods faced one another.
One was Zeus, patron deity of the Zeus Familia — said to field the strongest force in all of Orario.
The other was Uranus, head of the Guild — said to be the most indispensable institution in the city.
The two gods whose influence over Orario ran deeper than any others'. And the reason these two had come face to face like this was—
“Then what IS he? Don't tell me you still haven't pinned down where he came from.”
—the man in the black robe who had barged in on the situation just before it erupted into that heart-pounding confrontation with the Hera Familia.
The intruder who had blocked Alfia — his sister's blade whetted and ready in her desperate search for her. A mystery of a man who had fought Alfia herself to a standstill in a duel of pure magic.
That alone would have piqued Zeus's interest, perhaps, but it would never have driven him to come all the way to the Guild in person. So why had he made the journey himself?
—You. What are you scheming this time?
—You rotten old lecher. You've cooked up something strange again, haven't you.
—Old man. Why not just come clean and apologize?
Zeus was genuinely aggrieved. Everyone kept demanding answers from HIM about a man who had appeared out of nowhere.
And all because of a man! Sure, being male had spared him Hera's tantrum — but being male was exactly why Zeus's pride stung.
“What the hell are you all yelling at ME for?!”
He wasn't a woman, and he had no reason to hide anything about a man. What conceivable reason would HE have to conceal information about some dirty old codger?
Besides, Hera, Alfia, even Maxim had their suspicions fixed squarely on him.
It was a truly rare occasion — Zeus was being innocent and wronged, purely and completely.
And so he had come looking for Uranus, believing the god might know something. To hide a figure of that caliber, nothing short of an institution on the Guild's scale could manage it.
He had come with that hope in mind, and yet...
“I do not know.”
“Then what am I supposed to do if YOU don't know?!”
Uranus maintained his oblivious stance without a flicker.
In truth, while the god wore perfect composure on the surface, beneath it he was struggling to conceal his alarm.
A being of Level 7 or higher, appearing without warning. That alone was startling enough — but the timing could not have been more unfortunate.
A powerhouse capable of dueling Silence with magic alone. For something to simply appear out of nowhere like this — the variable is far too large.
The reports spoke of movement at tremendous speed, if only for an instant. A vanguard who cast magic without being a mage-specialist — in other words, a versatile all-rounder rather than a specialist. Which meant his true level might not be 7 at all, but 8 or beyond. Silence, after all, wielded strength beyond her recorded level.
If such a man were an enemy, what would follow?
The greatest weakness of magic is its chant. The price of a decisive, battle-turning strike is time and focus — and of course, the mind swells with concentration as it's cast, meaning a powerful spell betrays its caster in an instant, leaving him exposed and overwhelmed before the incantation finishes.
But with that man, the story would be different.
By every account, he had cast without a chant. Not even the swelling of focused mind could be sensed until the instant his magic fired. Which meant his magic was optimized for ambush.
And what did that point to?
If guerrilla warfare were to unfold, the casualties would be catastrophic.
He would demolish the city at his leisure while this side, hamstrung by his blinding speed and elusive movements, was toyed with like children.
Granted, with the aid of the Zeus or Hera Familias, they could eventually pin him down — but the damage, above all to the ordinary citizens, would be beyond reckoning.
No — that wasn't even the heart of it. The thought that he might strike at the most critical moment sent a chill down the spine. If he simply rained spells at their backs mid-quest, annihilation would be a certainty.
That was why Uranus had immediately set about identifying the man.
“No information... at all?”
“None.”
The result was a hollow miss. Nowhere in any record did anything about the man exist.
As if he had simply dropped out of the sky.
“How is that... you're telling me there was truly nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Hmmmm...”
Zeus had expected it — he had merely hoped to be proven wrong.
There had been something familiar in the presence that mysterious intruder exuded. It was unmistakably the particular aura possessed by the gods of his own pantheon.
There were four Olympians currently in Orario.
Zeus. Hera. Hermes. Uranus.
It wasn't him, and Hera wouldn't so much as acknowledge a man's existence. Hermes wasn't in the city. That left only Uranus.
Uranus, then. With Uranus, it might be possible. Zeus, who loathed hassle, had hoped for exactly that and come all this way...
So this lead was a dud too, huh...
Truthfully, he had expected it. He knew the fact that Uranus had no being worthy of the name “private soldier” beyond the barest handful.
At most, a centuries-old skeleton served as his sole operative. Uranus might be a possibility — but Zeus had known all along that possibility was vanishingly slim.
...Then who the hell is he?
There were other Olympians beyond the four in Orario. Perhaps the intruder was one of their retinues.
Yet somehow, Zeus had a premonition that it wasn't so. That intruder was something far beyond such trifling origins.
Vesta...
The name that surfaced belonged to a goddess of the hearth. A guardian of the flame so benevolent and pure that even Hera held her in respect.
A beautiful maiden — though by Zeus's tastes, utterly unappealing. Why had that goddess's epithet come spilling out of the man's mouth?
Her retinue, maybe?
But she wasn't due to descend for ages yet, was she? As king of the Olympians, Zeus had the descent schedules of his fellow pantheon more or less memorized. The women, at least.
Hestia was slated to descend roughly fifteen years from now. Even at the farthest estimate, it was ages away.
Hm...
His thoughts would not connect. The clues at hand were far too sparse to draw a conclusion.
It galled him to spend more time on this man... but there was nothing for it here.
“Then I'll look into it myself.”
“You know where he is?”
“I do.”
He'd wrung Cranel dry that day and heard every detail of what had happened. A man who'd been there when he went to see Meteria. How Meteria had begged him to hold Alfia back.
No doubt that was why Hera hadn't moved, either. She'd been asked first and already acted, so she likely saw no need to rush. And she probably held some hope that Uranus, like Zeus himself, might dig up information on his own. Which meant Zeus had to start moving personally, and soon — or he'd be too late.
And just as Zeus turned to leave—
“Zeus. Is your mind still unchanged?”
“...”
At the elder god's voice, Zeus's footsteps stopped.
He turned slowly, saying nothing. Not a shred of the lightheartedness from moments ago remained in his eyes.
“Not in the slightest.”
At an answer delivered without a whisper of hesitation, this time it was Uranus who fell silent.
“...Do you truly believe it impossible?”
Uranus pressed on even knowing Zeus would not be swayed, hoping still to persuade him.
“It is impossible. Communion with monsters — unthinkable.”
But once more, Zeus cut him down flat. As a patron god, and as a father, he could not accept what Uranus proposed.
“They possess wisdom. Given time, surely—”
“Tch.”
The click of his tongue said everything an answer needed to.
Zeus turned his back and made for the door, and this time, Uranus could not stop him.
*
“We've got a guest — can't even manage a cup of tea?”
Zeus drawled the words out, unimpressed, watching the man fumble in flustered surprise.
Had the guest been a woman, perhaps — but for a man, not an ounce of consideration existed in him.
If anything, by his usual standards this level of restraint was practically gracious.
Strange — I just can't bring myself to crush the guy.
By any measure he was a powerhouse impossible to dismiss, and yet Zeus had come strolling into this church without a sliver of wariness.
Was he in a hurry? Not especially. There was still time, and if he wanted certainty, bringing his retinue along was the surest way.
So why had he stormed into this church alone? Looking back on it after arriving, a strange feeling had crept over him.
Was I... looking forward to it? Me?
Looking forward to meeting this man? He wasn't a woman — he was a man?
Odd. This is odd.
Zeus couldn't make sense of it. What was so appealing about a stone-cold man that he'd come rushing over the moment he could?
A fascinating creature, aren't you.
And yet — it didn't displease him. Gods, after all, are always in love with the unknown.
Every god is helplessly obsessed with the unexplored. Zeus more than any of them.
And now, right before his eyes, he stood face to face with the very mystery that had so captivated him.
It seems today might actually be fun.
Slowly, Zeus's mouth curled upward until it all but split at the corners.