Charles hovered in midair, immediately spotting the grand, palace-like building known as the Goddess's Courtesan Hall. Activating his full sensory abilities, he began to search for Welf's location.
Inside the palace, while lavishly decorated, the lighting was dim, and the thin veils fluttering about added to the air of indulgence and sensuality that permeated the place.
To a hedonist, this was paradise—soft, luxurious, and intoxicating. But for Welf, who had been dragged here against his will, it was a living nightmare.
Welf struggled furiously. His limbs were tightly bound, his entire body spread out in a star shape on a massive round bed. Even his mouth was stuffed with a gag.
The bed might have been top quality, but Welf had no mind to appreciate it.
After all, he'd been captured—and by none other than the notoriously repulsive leader of the Ishtar Familia.
Welf didn't know why the so-called "Man-Killer" had targeted him, nor did he have time to figure it out. All he could think about now was how to escape.
Thud... Thud... Thud...!
A massive weight moved toward him. Welf could feel the very bed beneath him tremble with each step.
Just from the sound, he knew exactly who was coming, and he struggled even more frantically.
Sure enough, a massive toad-like face appeared under the dim light.
An Amazon chased in from behind, yelling, "Phryne! Lady Ishtar gave strict orders—this man is off-limits!"
"Shut up!"
Phryne didn't hold back even against her own Familia. She raised a hand and smacked the Amazon across the room without a hint of mercy.
"Ishtar's just jealous of my beauty again. But don't worry, no one's going to interrupt what's about to happen between us."
"Mmmph! Mmmph!!"
Welf writhed in panic, eyes filled with pure terror.
BOOM!
A deafening crash rang out above them, the roof shattering as a figure dropped down with a rain of debris.
Before Phryne could even see who it was, the figure closed in and delivered a brutal whip-kick right to her face.
Her enormous toad-like visage distorted under the impact, and she was sent spinning violently through the air.
Charles dusted off his pant leg, as though he'd just stepped in something revolting.
Phryne slammed through a wall before slowly getting back up, glaring at Charles with undisguised killing intent.
"You bastard! You hit my face—the most beautiful face in the whole world!"
Charles mimed gagging, then cast her a sidelong glance and said coldly, "Don't say such nauseating things. If you don't want to die... get lost."
Phryne didn't even dare to argue. Just meeting Charles's eyes made her body freeze.
In the natural world, prey may try anything to escape a predator—but when confronted directly, fear could completely paralyze them.
Phryne might've been an idiot, but even she could feel the insurmountable gap in strength. Swallowing down her rising panic, she turned and fled.
Charles turned back to Welf and walked over, tearing apart the ropes binding him.
Freed at last, Welf spat out the gag and grabbed Charles by the shoulders, voice shaking, "Charles, I'll never forget what you did for me—not in this lifetime!"
One look at Welf's near-tears expression and Charles could tell just how traumatized he'd been.
Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and said, "This one's on me. When the coast is clear, find your own way out. Let me handle the rest."
Welf didn't quite understand what he meant, but he nodded. "Just… be careful!"
Welf wasn't the type to stubbornly insist on helping when he knew he'd only be a burden.
He didn't know the full extent of Charles's strength—but he was certain that the Ishtar Familia couldn't possibly hold him.
Charles stepped out of the palace and was immediately confronted by a gathering of battle prostitutes, as well as the goddess standing behind them.
"I take it this isn't some kind of misunderstanding?" Charles said coldly.
Ishtar strolled forward, smoke curling from the long pipe in her hand. She extended a slender finger and pressed it against Charles's chest. "Of course not. You've always been my goal."
Even without her divine power, Ishtar's allure was formidable.
Unfortunately for her, her opponent was Charles.
He replied with the same cold detachment, "Is that so? Should I feel honored, then?"
Ishtar practically pressed herself against him, her fingers tracing lazy circles across his chest.
"I've never disliked strong men. Taming someone like you… would be quite the thrill."
Ishtar knew men—gods and mortals alike. Under her charms, they all reacted the same.
She could already picture him, crawling out of her bed, worshiping even the chance to kiss her toes.
But Charles only sneered. Suddenly, fire erupted from his body.
Ishtar let out a shriek as the blast sent her flying.
Several of her girls hurried to catch her, but she angrily shoved them aside.
Whether it was because her plan had failed, or because her irresistible allure had failed to work, Ishtar was seething with rage.
"If you won't yield to me... then you have no reason to exist!"
But Charles suddenly appeared in front of her, his cold face inches away.
"You gods, always so high and mighty. You think everything goes your way. But… don't underestimate mortals."
His fist clenched, and he threw a punch straight at her.
Ishtar screamed—not out of pain, but from the sheer pressure of his will.
Even without their divine powers, gods retained their divine aura, known as divine might. This aura marked them as unmistakably divine, and actively repelled any human with hostile intent.
But humans possess something far greater—courage. The willingness to throw a fist at a god, if it means protecting what matters.
Ishtar's divine might didn't stop Charles. She could only watch in horror as his flame-wreathed fist closed in.
CRASH!
Charles's punch was intercepted—not by her, but by a broad blade.
The figure wielding it staggered back, crashing into Ishtar behind her.
"Lady Ishtar, this place is dangerous. Please, fall back," said the newcomer.
Ishtar collected herself and nodded, retreating without protest.
Charles eyed her protector. "Lijer, right?"
Aisha Belka, vice-captain of the Ishtar Familia, Adventurer Level 3. Unlike the reckless Phryne, she was the true backbone of their Familia.
It was Aisha who had protected Ishtar in that crucial moment. Of all the Ishtar girls, she was the only one even remotely respectable.
Shouldering her greatsword, Aisha smirked. "Such a fiery attack. Makes me wish you'd penetrate me in other ways…"
Charles deadpanned, "I'll pass. You know what's coming—stand aside."
Aisha licked her lips. "Can't do that. I'm not satisfied yet."
With that, she stepped aside—and a wave of armed courtesans rushed at Charles.
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