After teasing Bell for a while, Freya finally took her leave, never once sparing a glance for Charles or Stella.
But Charles had a strong gut feeling—part of that goddess's attention had definitely been focused on them.
Just then, the host of the banquet descended the staircase.
Apollo, dressed in a white tailcoat, strode forward with a crimson cape trailing behind him. An olive wreath rested on his golden hair, completing the image of the sun god. To be fair, in terms of appearances, Apollo didn't fall short of the divine standard of beauty.
Unfortunately, even the most handsome face could become unbearable when twisted with slyness and perversion.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for attending tonight!" Apollo declared loudly from the front of the ballroom. With the host making his appearance, the gods and adventurers turned their attention to him.
But what caught Charles's eye more were the two girls standing behind Apollo.
"The Laurel Runner" Daphne Lalos and "The Pessimist" Cassandra Ilion.
The former had been forced to join the Apollo Familia, which in itself was a testament to her value—after all, she was based on a goddess from mythology, possessing one magic and two skills.
But Charles was more focused on the other girl, the gloomy one with long hair hanging down—Cassandra, considered the third and final "hacker" among Orario's cheat-tier trio.
Her skill, [Princess Who Sings of the Tragic World], was just as uncrackable by divine language as Charles's own World Magic—another cheat-level ability.
After she joined the Miach Familia, even Miach himself could only vaguely explain her ability as something like "seeing the future through dreams."
Her predictions came in the form of obscure poems and hazy imagery—but were always accurate.
Precognition—direct interference with fate itself. If not for the curse of "never being believed," her ability would be downright terrifying.
And just from that, her mythological origin became obvious. Cassandra, from the Trojan War—the epic where heroes, demigods, and even deities clashed, weaving a grand myth.
Cassandra, the priestess of Apollo, was given the gift of foresight, only to be cursed by Apollo when she rejected him: though her visions were true, no one would ever believe them.
Whether it was her foretelling that the beauty Helen would bring ruin to Troy, or her warning not to accept the infamous wooden horse—no one listened. And, just as she predicted, Troy was destroyed by war.
And this time, too, Cassandra foresaw the white rabbit devouring the sun. But even her closest friend, Daphne, didn't believe her.
Charles sighed. This was why Cassandra's ability was considered "cheating." If Apollo Familia had actually believed her prophecy, they might have avoided the fate that was coming.
While Charles studied Cassandra, Apollo continued, "Because of a personal idea, I decided to alter the usual format of tonight's banquet. But dressing up in our finest clothes and bringing along our finest children—isn't that just wonderful?"
Cheers and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Gods were like that—they loved anything that offered a fresh experience.
Finally, Apollo added with a flourish, "Perhaps tonight will bring us a beautiful fateful encounter—I have a feeling about it!"
Charles didn't have time to overthink that ominous line, because the music had already begun. Stella pulled him into the dance floor, and the two began their waltz.
Though normally brash and energetic, Stella was still a royal princess—ballroom dancing was, of course, a basic skill for her.
Charles wasn't trained in this, but he had complete control over his body—like a dancer. With Stella guiding him, he quickly matched her pace, and by the end, their steps were perfectly synchronized.
Stella wore a crimson gown that swirled around her like a blazing flame as she danced. And Charles, light and graceful, looked like a handsome spirit dancing within that fire.
Though many gods and adventurers had joined the dance floor, the two of them were undoubtedly its center.
"Hey, whose kids are those two?"
"You don't recognize them? That boy is Dragonforge—one of Hephaestus Familia's pillars. As for the girl, she's likely a new member."
"Damn, I'm jealous. Where does Hephaestus find such outstanding children?"
"I'd love to claim them both for my own Familia…"
Hephaestus let out a sigh, but her face was full of warmth. Perhaps this was why gods were so obsessed with the Familia game—because of moments like this.
She was never one to show off, but now she finally understood why some gods liked to flaunt their children. She had to admit—it felt pretty good.
Charles didn't pay any attention to Bell, who was currently being goaded by Hermes into asking Ais to dance. He simply focused wholeheartedly on completing this dance with Stella.
As the song ended, the two bowed to each other. Applause broke out around them.
And then—the lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only one spotlight.
It shone directly on Bell and Hestia.
"Here comes the main event." That was the shared thought among all the gods who were in the know.
Aside from Hephaestus, Miach, and a few others close to Hestia who looked concerned, the rest of the gods wore excited, mischievous expressions—their inner jesters on full display.
Apollo slowly walked up to the two, saying, "Your child caused quite a bit of trouble for mine recently."
Hestia looked a bit guilty. "Well, mine had some trouble too, you know!"
Charles already knew Apollo wouldn't let Bell off easily. Back when the skirmish happened at Hostess of Fertility, after Charles and Bell's group separated, Hyacinthus had once again approached Bell with his thugs.
Charles hadn't expected them to be that persistent. Later, he only caught wind of the incident—"Little Rookie" clashing with Apollo Familia on the streets.
If he had to guess, Bell probably got roughed up by Hyacinthus. Even though Bell was close to leveling up, and had rapidly grown through limit-breaking experience, Hyacinthus was a legitimate Level 3 adventurer. It was only natural Bell lost.
But Apollo didn't care about truth—he just needed an excuse to declare war. So he resorted to a shameful act of framing.
As he argued with Hestia, Apollo pointed dramatically behind him.
There stood a Pallum, covered in bandages, hobbling on crutches and whining, "Oww… it hurts so bad…"
"After seeing this, can you still claim you bear no responsibility?"
Charles couldn't help but shake his head. Apollo really was something else. Even though there weren't many pedestrians around at the time, the fact remained—it was a street fight.
Faking an injury like this in public? Anyone could tell he was fishing for trouble.
Hestia, however, wavered. "Wait, Bell, did you really do that?"
Charles covered his face. He was wrong. Someone really would believe it. With a goddess like this, Bell had it rough.
Bell, of course, denied it, flustered. "I didn't do anything like that!"
Apollo's face twisted into a lecherous grin, his divine beauty utterly ruined.
"If you insist on being this stubborn, then I see no other option. Let's settle this with a War Game!"
"OOOOOHHHHHH!!!"
The entire hall erupted into cheers and exclamations.
(End of Chapter)
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