Before The Slaughter Begins (1)

A lavish castle, clad in white and pale pink, stood on a cliff overlooking the sea.

Open the gate and walk down a short corridor, and instead of the grand hall one expects in a castle of that size, there is an even larger bedroom.

A bedroom the size of the entire castle—this castle existed solely for that enormous room.

Inside the bedroom a giant spa offered a clear view of the distant sea, surrounded by immaculately arranged bathing facilities.

Opposite it, an absurdly huge bed—large enough to hold ten grown men—dominated the room.

Pink canopies fluttered like dancing clouds above the bed, and several smaller beds clustered nearby, lending the scene an odd, puzzling air.

Along one wall, canes, clubs, and whips hung neatly for reasons impossible to discern.

The woman who owned the room and the castle rose from the largest bed.

Her pure-white nude form lay exposed beyond the fallen covers, yet she showed no hint of embarrassment.

Lustrous blonde hair fell to her chest and fluttered as if to conceal her, but it was insufficient to hide her ample breasts.

Her waist was narrow enough to grasp between two fingers, her skin glowing—so beautiful that even an orc’s face would not stop men from drooling.

Moreover, her face was not that of an orc.

Trace the line of her crimson lips, curved into a dizzying smile, upward to her prominent nose and crescent-shaped brows, and they seized your gaze.

A woman so beautiful one would fear to touch her stepped naked into the spa.

“…Hoo.”

She sighed, slipped into the water, then rose, shaking her head as if to dispel something; her beauty was arresting.

“When will that idiot die…”

Words like that fell from the lips of someone so pure and elegant.

“Phew… judging by what he’s doing, he’ll die soon—the fifth year will start before long. Anyway, which bastard should I devour today?”

The humming beauty bobbed a finger in the air as if scrolling through a list.

When nothing pleased her, a frown deepened across her delicate brow. What was she searching for—choosing a meal?

“Ugh, none of these pleases me. I should’ve eaten Manus back then.”

Who was this beauty who casually mentioned Manus?

After scrutinizing for a long while, she gave up and stepped out of the water.

As she exited the spa, a garment appeared around her as if by magic.

The garment left her neither fully clothed nor naked.

A pearlescent dress, almost transparent against her skin, plunged at the chest and revealed her slender legs to the hip through a high side slit.

“Lady Amor.”

No sooner had she donned the garment than someone appeared, addressing her with a distinct title.

She was the Heavenly God Amor.

“Huh? What’s the matter? Poina?”

“There was a message from Fretus. The slaves are ready, apparently.”

“Really? Already? Hoo—faster than I expected. Hoho, good, good!”

“Shall I prepare the next stage in advance?”

The woman knelt on both knees, forehead to the floor, waiting for orders.

Amor tapped her lips with an index finger, pondered briefly, then murmured a few words.

“Understood.”

“Right. Ah—wait. Among the powers I’ve absorbed so far, I don’t have the ability to wield ranged weapons. Strangely, even when I absorb essence that ability won’t transfer. So search Exorsus—the place where the slave battles take place—for a transcendent who can use ranged weapons.”

“Understood. However, as you know, among the continents of the Battlefield of the Gods, Exorsus remains beyond our gaze even after the Slave Game ends. I can’t promise results.”

“I know. Do your best.”

“Understood.”

Poina vanished after a brief reply, leaving the picturesque chamber with only Amor.

With a languid, cat-like expression, Amor brightened at some thought and drifted away.

The castle on the cliff, where waves crashed into froth below, fell once more into stillness.

Everywhere excessive luxury: dazzling ornaments and multicolored glowing lamps, as if someone had tried to craft heaven.

This was a location that had appeared early in the Battlefield of the Gods—the castle of the demon god Serpens.

Sticky, savage mana flowed here. In Serpens’s vast castle at the center of the demon realm, many gods had gathered to await their host.

With hundreds of gods gathered in one place, even breathing caused energies to surge and shatter decorations.

At first the gods were startled; when the shattered ornaments restored themselves, they relaxed and settled into comfortable postures to wait for their host.

Finally, the enormous doors of the banquet hall opened and Serpens, lavishly adorned, appeared.

When everyone rose and bowed at once, one might be fooled into thinking Serpens was the only god among them.

“Thank you all for coming at my summons. No one failed to attend, right?”

“Yes!”

“Of course not!”

“Naturally!”

A chorus of responses followed as Serpens, wearing a captivating smile, explained the reason for the gathering.

“Amor’s representative is dumber than I thought. Hohoho. That works in our favor, doesn’t it? Soon the banquet will begin. You know that, right?”

At the word “banquet,” the gods’ chatter quieted, replaced by a current of tension.

“Hoho, don’t worry. I’ve arranged for Violentia to grow significantly this time. Besides, those who die early are trash and irrelevant to us.”

After the gods, chatting like nobles at a party, dispersed, Torcio—an intermediate god of torture and a counselor—entered the banquet hall, where only Serpens remained.

Come to think of it, Torcio—who’d been close enough to show videos of Violentia streaming in the Monster Belt—had not attended the earlier gathering.

“How is it?”

“He has no idea, apparently.”

“Really? Well, with Kim Han doing so well, that novice representing him could be getting arrogant. What shall we do?”

Torcio bowed at Serpens’s muttering and waited like a knight for orders.

Did that posture displease Serpens? A reprimand about unresolved matters followed.

“Hey!”

“Yes?”

“It’s your fault!”

“…What do you mean?”

“It’s because of you. What if I hadn’t chosen that clever dragonian as my representative?”

Torcio recalled how, about four years ago, Serpens had claimed she’d make a dragonian a slave and vowed to kill him; he quickly banished the memory.

Dwelling on it would only upset him; accepting this madwoman for what she was seemed his only option.

“You were cursing me in your head just now, weren’t you?”

“Wha? Absolutely not!”

He winced inwardly; he’d been serving under Serpens’s filthy temper for over twenty thousand years.

Torcio protested with a look of deep grievance and managed to get through the moment safely.

“By the way, Violentia trying to form a marital bond with Kim Han—she’s smarter than I thought. I did choose my representative well. Smart. The problem is that god… we can’t threaten them. What to do? Ah! Hey!”

“Yes?”

“You go and threaten them. Then I’ll swoop in dramatically and save the day.”

Torcio had to doubt his ears; Serpens was boasting about a plan that couldn’t fool anyone, and it left him exasperated.

No god was unaware he was Serpens’s right hand. Moreover, beside the newborn god Ludicer sat a monster.

“Aetas is beside Ludicer.”

“…Huh? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that ignorant bitch there? Damn it! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

Faced with Serpens’s predictable frenzy, Torcio lowered his head.

It took Serpens half a day to calm down after her tantrum.

Previously she’d have thrashed Torcio to get it over with, but since the Battlefield of the Gods was underway she couldn’t, so her madness took longer to subside.

Once composed, Serpens rummaged through her treasury.

Do gods lack greed? No—because they were gods, their desires ran deeper.

Not a lust for money, but a covetousness for things even gods could not easily obtain—unique items or sole artifacts—which far surpassed human greed.

“Where was it… where did it go… Ah! Found it!”

In Serpens’s hand lay a small cube that fit perfectly in her palm.

A small box radiated a brilliant, pure white light; she smiled confidently at it.

“Hohohoho. This unique Latens Cube will be enough!”

They said Kim Han had found a Latens Cube in the Monster Belt. This one, however, was much smaller and hardly comparable.

Even Torcio seemed impressed, looking at Serpens with surprise.

“W-will you really give that as a gift? That Latens Cube was made by the Creator himself.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m giving it. It’s no different from other Latens Cubes—just smaller and easier to carry. Ridiculous! Which god lacks their own realm? What merit is there in being small? But for a newborn god it matters. It’s the Creator’s item, after all. There’s no way they’d dislike it, right?”

“Y-yes.”

“Hohohoho. Shall we go then?”

Serpens laughed like a madwoman and vanished from the castle in an instant.

Ludicer sighed deeply; today was clearly not a day for quiet.

She busied herself in a white dress, barefoot and darting about to manage her duties, but her shelter—or castle—had swarmed with gods since morning.

“Ludicer, just do it roughly and come here. This is really delicious.”

“…I cannot do it roughly. Besides, Kim Han is working so hard; how could I, his representative god, do otherwise?”

Unable to resist prodding from Aetas, Genesis, Mors, and Spatium, Ludicer projected a video into the air showing Kim Han drawing a bow as he gathered strength.

“Wow, he’s really grown as a cavalryman? We’ll have to be careful too,” Mors said playfully. Aetas snorted and offered a teasing retort.

“What are you saying, you perverted lolicon? You were defeated by Kim Han from the start. What was it again? Oh right! You called him ‘human’ and then when Kim Han mentioned Deicide and Destruction you couldn’t say another word!”

“Eek! Aetas, do you want to die?”

“Go away, you criminal. Just think about what you did to Naruan and really…”

From a normal point of view, Mors—given her odd tastes—was rendered speechless.

Meanwhile, Kim Han released his arrow, it pierced a barrier, and the scene shifted to him entering Shio’s library.

The instant Kim Han entered Shio’s library, the four goddesses leapt to their feet.

At the four’s commotion, Ludicer, watching the video, dropped the papers she had been holding.

“Th-that’s…”

“A dragon kind’s true form. Who is it?”

The flat, composed voice—no tease—was Aetas’s.

“Ah! Now that I think about it, Fabris, the former Exorsus guard commander, tried to play tricks on Kim Han the other day and almost lost his hand.”

Ludicer spoke the harsh truth in her small, cute voice, and the other goddesses nodded as if it were only natural.

The goddesses seemed to have recognized who that dragon kind was.

“So it’s Fabris? Huh? Why is that crazy old man acting like that all of a sudden? Kim Han’s going in?”

Like watching a climax, the five goddesses watched the screen, breathless.

Onscreen, Kim Han fiddled with something and then, with a surprised expression, asked Talis:

“—…Could the ‘he’ you’re referring to be the same ‘he’ I’m thinking of?”

A moment later, Talis addressed Kim Han—more precisely, Kim Han’s representative god, Ludicer.

“—Ludicer, Kim Han’s representative, can you hear me? A barrier of this level is nothing to a god. Find out about the war god Manus. Where is he now, what is he plotting, what has he done in the past?”

Silence fell among the five goddesses.

What on earth was happening?

Then, as if eager not to think about it, Aetas shook her head violently and continued in a gruff voice, as if spitting dust from her mouth.

“Ha, Manus. That son of a bitch is everywhere, isn’t he? How do we kill him so that people will say he died well? Huh? Spatium! Still can’t find him?”

“Yes. He’s somewhere I cannot detect.”

Spatium’s voice was serious and heavy.

“But now that I think about it, something’s odd.”

“What is it?”

“Aetas, have you ever had any special interactions with Manus?”

“Me? Of course… huh? No? Just greetings in passing?” Aetas replied, flustered.

When Spatium turned to Mors, Mors shook her head; Genesis was the same.

“I am the same. But why is that? Why do we have a one-sided affection toward Manus?”

“Well… huh?”

The four goddesses, excluding Ludicer, fell silent.

Manus’s sudden change—and the unforeseen events it had triggered across the Battlefield of the Gods—bewildered them.

Especially the Latens Cube Kim Han would soon bring back; it had been malfunctioning.

“What did He say?”

“…He worried that if you got involved again, things would go wrong. He sounded exasperated.”

Spatium had gone to the Creator because she could not find Manus at all.

It made no sense to her power, so the visit had been more complaint than query; yet the Creator, uncharacteristically, offered only an apologetic, self-deprecating remark.

“Damn it, what the hell is happening? Goddamn it!” Aetas vented.

Ludicer suddenly looked around at the other four with a startled expression.

“Why? Why is it? Scary?”

“…A guest has arrived.”

“A guest? Who?”

“Serpens.”

“…?!”