Phryne, after all, was the captain of the Ishtar Familia. Seeing her defeated, the remaining courtesan warriors hurried to attack in support, hurling lightning and fiery spears conjured by their magic swords.
Charles reached out and caught a fire spear midair. With a squeeze of his fingers, he crushed it effortlessly, the shattered flames curling around his hand. The next moment, he slapped away a bolt of lightning with that same flame-wreathed palm.
Flexing his shoulders, Charles glanced at the terrified courtesan warriors and spoke coldly, "I know it probably won't work, but I'll say it one more time—step aside. The only person I'm here for is the one who orchestrated all this."
Aisha, having downed an elixir of all-healing, dragged her greatsword as she approached, saying nothing. The other courtesans showed no sign of lowering their weapons either.
"...Fine. I understand your answer."
Charles shook his head. In the next instant, he appeared in the middle of their ranks—and the one-sided massacre began.
Even with dozens of them, they barely slowed him down. Very soon, all of them had been taken down.
Charles released the short-haired Amazon he had been holding by the neck, letting her collapse limply to the ground.
The only ones still standing were Charles and the black-robed Haruhime.
He walked over to her and saw her trembling as if he were some sort of devil.
Looking back at the pile of unconscious courtesans, Charles couldn't really blame her for reacting that way.
But then he noticed something strange—Haruhime calmed down surprisingly fast. Her expression turned odd.
She looked up at him with her moist emerald eyes.
"Of course… to a hero who risks everything to save his comrades, a courtesan is just an enemy, not someone worth saving."
In the hero tales Haruhime had read, prostitutes were always portrayed as shameless villains.
More than fear, what overwhelmed her now was sorrow—realizing she had become the very kind of person she hoped a hero would save her from being. Nothing was more heartbreaking than that for someone like her.
Looking into her eyes, filled with quiet sadness, Charles reached out and gently placed his hand on her head.
"Don't be ridiculous. They hurt my comrade, so they're enemies—what does that have to do with being a courtesan or not?
If someone really is a hero, then no matter who needs saving… they'd step forward, wouldn't they?"
Haruhime looked at him with hope and asked, "Even someone like me… a courtesan?"
Charles nodded. "I don't think of myself as some kind of hero, but if you're willing..."
As he spoke, he pinched the collar around her neck—a magical restraint tool—and forced it apart with raw magical power.
The collar shattered into fragments that dissolved into glowing motes of light.
"I'll take back your freedom right now."
With that, Charles turned and walked toward the direction Ishtar had fled. It was time to bring all of this to an end.
Ascending the spiral staircase, Charles saw Ishtar standing at the top, shielded by a group of her followers.
Ishtar gritted her teeth. "What do you think you're doing? Don't forget—I'm a goddess."
But seeing Charles' unwavering approach, her tone softened instantly. "There's no need for things to go this far, right? It's not too late to stop now, before it gets worse."
Charles looked at her coldly. "Maybe things like this don't matter to a god, but to us mortals, they matter more than our lives.
I can't risk my comrade's safety on your whims, so I'm asking you to return to Heaven—permanently."
Hearing his unyielding words, Ishtar surprisingly didn't flare up again. Instead, she said, "Is that so? Well then... what are you waiting for?"
Her words weren't directed at Charles—they were a distraction.
A figure emerged from the shadows behind Charles. A bare-chested man lunged silently with a dagger aimed at Charles' neck.
Tammuz—the only male member of the Ishtar Familia. Level 4. The same man who, in the original story, was NTR'd in person by Freya.
Even before the dagger struck, Charles sensed the cursed energy embedded within its blade.
A cursed weapon? Given Ishtar's ties to the Dark Faction—she was one of its biggest backers—it wasn't surprising she had her hands on one or two of those.
This particular dagger was especially sinister; the curse felt like a high-grade instant-death effect.
But no matter how potent the curse, it had to hit its target first—and even a sneak attack from a Level 4 wasn't going to work on Charles.
Before Tammuz could get close, he was blasted away by a sudden eruption of flames. He smashed through a wall and was flung far from the battlefield, his dagger clattering to the floor.
Charles looked at Ishtar and said, "That was your final move? If that's all, then allow me to send you off to Heaven in peace."
Ishtar glared at him. "I don't believe you'd actually strike a god!"
Charles took a step forward, flames bursting from his body and nearly tearing the palace roof open. He was ready to prove just how wrong she was.
"That's enough!"
A voice rang out behind him—and the flames around Charles extinguished instantly.
He turned to see Hephaestus approaching, flanked by a group of her Familia blacksmiths.
She stepped up beside Charles and gave him a quick glance. "Idiot. This isn't just your personal grudge."
"...Hephaestus..."
She raised her hand to cut him off. "Leave the rest to me."
Then she walked straight up to Ishtar and said, "Let's talk, Ishtar."
Seeing Hephaestus, Ishtar immediately regained her arrogance. "Perfect timing, Hephaestus. Get your mad dog out of here!"
Hephaestus didn't reply. Instead, she did something that stunned everyone—she slapped Ishtar across the face, knocking her to the ground.
Even without divine power, Hephaestus was the Goddess of the Forge—those arms wielded hammers all day. The power behind that slap wasn't something to underestimate.
Her voice was cold. "Ishtar, did you get the wrong idea?
You kidnapped one of my children—and you thought I came here to negotiate? You really underestimate us blacksmiths!"
As her scolding rang out, every blacksmith who followed her drew a magic sword. Not just one each—both of their hands held them.
This was why all of Orario knew that Hephaestus Familia wasn't to be messed with. The destruction they could unleash wasn't far off from Loki Familia's elite bombardment team.
Hephaestus made her declaration:
"We didn't come here to talk... we came to destroy you."
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