Chapter 147 Happy Together

“Tap, tap—”
Accompanied by the crisp sound of high heels, the volume in the banquet hall gradually lowered. The once lively gathering suddenly fell into silence.

But this did not mean the atmosphere had become subdued. From the eager gazes fixed upon her and the growing murmurs, it was clear that the ambiance was reaching its zenith.

The silver-haired goddess, the focus of all eyes, stepped lightly into the hall. Her slender waist, accentuated by the evening gown, caused many admirers to widen their eyes, mesmerized and lost in her direction.

Her breathtaking beauty, eyes translucent as if filled with light, moon-frosted silver hair, and magnificent robe—each movement exuded an allure no deity could rival. Merely standing there, she radiated the light of the entire world, a goddess capable of enchanting hearts.

“Bell, don’t look…”

Hermes instinctively covered Bell’s eyes. Even with her divine powers sealed, as the goddess of beauty, Freya’s innate charm remained undiminished. Not only children of the mortal realm, but even many gods could be captivated by her beauty.

He was certain that Bell’s pure and admiring soul was well within Freya’s usual hunting ground. Yet, before Roland succumbed, warning Bell alone would suffice.

Roland’s gaze was fixed tightly on Freya, but the emotion in his eyes was not infatuation or fascination—it was intense curiosity.

Freya’s appearance was indeed striking; Roland did not consider himself particularly steadfast at heart, but rank and spirit were different matters.

At his current level, unless bound by a contract like a familiar that directly influenced him, no external force could affect his spirit without first breaking through the beastly shell he bore. This was a matter of nature.

“Roland, be careful of Freya! She loves to ensnare heroes like you. If you can’t resist, just cover your eyes…”

“Have a little more faith in me,” Roland replied, exasperated, patting Hestia’s head. Seeing that he remained composed, unlike the other guests who were utterly entranced, Hestia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Besides, covering my eyes won’t solve this—she’s already coming toward us.”

“Trouble’s unavoidable, hero, it’s on you now.”

Loki grinned mischievously as he tugged the somewhat stunned Ais behind himself, leaving Roland to face the goddess’s burning gaze alone.

Freya noticed Roland’s eyes and began to shift her steps in small, joyful movements, like a pet welcoming its master home. Parting the crowd that automatically gave way, she approached Roland, accompanied by a burly pig-man warrior.

“Hestia, Loki’s here too. Haven’t seen you since the last divine meeting.”

“Freya, what do you want?”

Though Freya’s smile appeared warm and friendly, Hestia, having seen Freya’s true nature, remained wary, watching her carefully.

“I’m just here to have a few words with the hero. As the greatest supporter of the Grand Expedition, it’s not unreasonable to request a private conversation with this child,” Freya said lightly, unfazed by Hestia’s gaze, her smile gentle.

“Hmm…”

Hestia found no immediate rebuttal to such a righteous explanation. Though she remained highly cautious of Freya’s retinue, they had always cooperated well regarding matters concerning Roland.

Whether reclaiming the streets or following Roland’s orders to fight with lower-level adventurers in formation, they showed none of the rumored rebellious or difficult traits.

“No, it’s still not okay!”

Hestia crossed her arms, unable to fully let down her guard against Freya.

“Let’s fight, let’s fight!”

Loki watched the scene with glee, not forgetting to warn Ais beside him.

“Ais, better give up early. No one ever escapes the grasp of Freya once she sets her sights on them.”

Usually, Ais would have dismissed Loki’s words, but his remark left her momentarily stunned, a hint of worry and unease flickering in her clear eyes.

Even gods rarely held confidence before the goddess of beauty—let alone her.

“It’s alright, Hestia. Let me talk to her. Didn’t you forget our promise? Besides—she absolutely cannot charm me.”

Roland reassured Hestia with practiced calm, but on the last point, he glanced at Ais, smiling gently and winking.

Recalling the previous encounter, a faint blush appeared on Ais’s cheeks as she lowered her gaze slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

Loki frowned, his tone laced with concern. “Ais, you seem a bit off.”

“Just remembered something,” she murmured, touching her flushed cheek shyly.

Even someone as innocent as her sensed something amiss during Roland’s last swordsmanship lesson—though his heroic demeanor and repeated victories had been overwhelmingly impactful for her.

Thinking back, how could a boy this age, after all that, still have the spirit to defeat that monster? Truly impressive…

—

“What’s the matter? Is Otta’s gaze making you uncomfortable?”

Freya’s eyes fixed on Roland’s face, as if trying to absorb him entirely. At this close range, the possessiveness surging from her soul transformed into burning passion that ignited her eyes.

“No, his gaze is merely cold, not hostile. But you might want to tone down yours.”

Roland looked coldly at Freya, his eyes searching.

“I just want to feel some warmth from you. My motives are simple,” Freya leaned closer, naturally lifting her head, instinctively reaching out, then withdrawing her hand.

“I only ask you to grant me a little love. Is that too much to ask?”

Roland stared at the goddess, humbled and pleading, a vision of a peach wrapped in purple silk appearing in his mind.

Though he did not sense the overwhelming charm Freya claimed could enthrall gods and mortals alike, she certainly knew how to stir worldly desires.

Unlike the more modern evening gowns other goddesses wore, Freya’s dress was draped like a purple silk towel, revealing a stunning form that reminded Roland of the Greek goddess statues he had seen before.

The gown’s back was open, and as Freya leaned forward, her flawless, radiant back was fully exposed to Roland.

At such close proximity, he could see there was no outline of undergarments beneath the tight dress—only the full, graceful curves.

In other words—

Such a beautiful sight, bathed in soft light, left Roland momentarily stunned.

Then, meeting Freya’s hopeful and confident gaze, Roland gave his answer.

“Though tempting, I refuse.”

“I don’t deny all you’ve done for me, but the one who decides what the reward is—that’s me alone.”

“However, I’m somewhat surprised by your tact. Becoming friends with you isn’t impossible...”

Hearing this rational reply, Freya’s eyes darkened with sorrow.

“I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your plaything. At least then, I might gain a little pity...”

Watching Freya’s sudden shift from praise to madness, Roland’s eyes narrowed slightly.

If she suddenly flipped and started playing the ‘today my hands tremble, today my heart aches’ drama, he’d have to deal with this unstable factor swiftly, even if it meant sacrificing some pawns.

He spoke softly, “Since you haven’t caused any trouble I dislike yet, Freya, keep up this begging for mercy. Otherwise, I’ll send you off with Apollo. I assure you, your fate won’t be a simple return to the heavens.”

All the gods present understood—the banquet was merely an overture. The real drama was how the conflict between Apollo’s retinue and the Sword Hero would unfold.

Yet, deciding Apollo’s fate was death even before negotiations began startled Freya.

She neither regained her composure as Roland expected nor retreated in resentment. Instead, she licked her fingers, a slight smile curling at her lips.

“I’ve never encountered anything that could truly kill a god… No, anything at all! Master, please, kill me now. Whatever your command, if you desire it, not only my life but my soul, my power, everything—you may take it all.

“At least I would find solace in this act… Use your holy sword to cut open my chest, tear out my heart. Mmm... Ah... Just thinking about it overwhelms me...”

As Freya spoke, her gaze grew increasingly dazed.

How could she be even more unhinged than a madwoman?

Roland stared in surprise, about to say something when a voice rang out.

“Everyone, enjoying the banquet?”

From the far end of the hall, Apollo, the host, slowly entered.

With his arrival, the entire hall fell into a heavy silence. Every god and retinue member knew the real show was starting.

“Tch...”

Roland immediately approached Hestia. Seeing this, Freya could only cast a resentful glance toward Apollo.

Under the watchful eyes of all, Apollo strode directly toward Hestia and Roland.

“Sword Hero, Hestia, it’s been a long time. Let’s skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point.”

Ignoring Hestia’s scornful glare, Apollo wore a pained smile.

“Roland, though I share a close bond with your chief deity Hestia, I cannot stand idly by while you drag the Oreli retinue into the abyss.”

“Huh? What bond? Other than me rejecting your pathetic proposal in the heavens, what connection do we have? The Grand Expedition plan has been approved by all the gods!”

Hestia leapt up, shouting fiercely.

The gods at the banquet nodded silently. Compared to ordinary mortals, they knew exactly where the crux lay. Without addressing the root cause, stopping disasters was but a futile act.

This was why Apollo’s words had never gained open support—his own reputation was equally scandalous.

“The idea of the Grand Expedition is not wrong! But since it is so important, one must be more prudent. The so-called Sword Hero is merely a mortal basking in the light of the fairies.”

Apollo feigned a sigh.

“Set aside the fairy’s halo. Seriously consider who is the more qualified leader. Compared to the seasoned adventurers of Oreli, this hero arrived in the city only ten days ago. Is his plan truly reliable?”

“I admit, with the fairies’ power, the Sword Hero may surpass the city’s adventurers. But making decisive judgments in critical moments is an entirely different matter.”

“Indeed!”

As Apollo spoke, many of his retinue stepped forward in agreement, one of them fixing a cold glare on Roland.

Hestia’s face flushed with anger. Apollo’s grandstanding was obviously provocative. For a god to be so shameless was infuriating—even Loki sneered.

Yet, Apollo’s argument was not entirely baseless. Those attending the banquet were mostly high-level adventurers; many had been inspired or saved by Roland’s reputation, but a fair number were merely spectators.

“What do you want then?”

Hestia barely restrained her fury, staring at Apollo.

“Simple,” Apollo smiled warmly, eyes burning into Roland.

“I want this child to prove he’s not useless without the fairies—that he’s truly worthy of entrusting his life.”

“So, let’s play a war game. If you can defeat my retinue without using the fairies, wouldn’t that prove it? To show goodwill, I won’t count those who joined in the past few days as part of the retinue. You only need to face those originally under my command. If you’re a true hero, this should be easy.”

The banquet’s atmosphere plunged into a chilling silence, terrifyingly still.

“Exactly, Lord Apollo. Our retinue is only of average strength in Oreli. If the Sword Hero can defeat the Sword Maiden without divine aid, that is only natural.”

“And what about the rumors of him reaching level 2 in six days, even level 3? Impossible without the fairies. Does he take us for fools?”

“Without the fairies, what makes this hero different from us?”

Behind Apollo, the fully armed adventurers seemed to echo a signal, their reckless voices filling the hall with harsh words.

“Of course, since it’s a war game, there must be punishment…”

Apollo’s gaze burned hotter.

“If you fail, I demand Hestia hand over the Sword Hero to me as punishment. Consider this a favor for old times’ sake.”

“Hmph.”

Roland laughed.

It was the first time since arriving in this world that he showed such a cruel smile.

Under the gaze of a man like this, Roland’s eyes glimmered with crimson light.

Even gods die. Some merely need a little help.

“Gay! I can’t help you with anything else, but I’ll make sure you and your retinue have a Happy Together time in hell!”

(End of Chapter)