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The Sword Sage Picks up Girls in Another World
Chapter 9: The Celebration of the Gods

Chapter 9: The Celebration of the Gods

The Celebration of the Gods was a grand and hotly anticipated party, thrown as an opportunity for the various gods of Gekai to get together, catch up, and have fun. Every invitee was a divinity, of both major and minor statuses, and the food/décor was typically constructed to meet the high standards of these powerful and influential figures. This time was no exception.

The food was lavish and carefully crafted, prepared by some of the finest chefs in the city and from a wide variety of cultures, with something to satisfy even the pickiest of eaters. Platters of lovingly decorated vegetables, pastas, and noodles covered the buffet tables. Slabs of exotically spiced meat and well-seasoned fish filled the party hall with tantalizing aromas. The walls were bedecked with precious metals and jewels, and the people were largely no different. They moved about in vibrant colors and frilly dresses, in sharp suits finished with vivid flowers tucked in breast pockets. The people themselves were all stunning, with nearly all of them sporting knockout good looks and flawless complexions, eyes glittering a plethora of iridescent colors.

The building, strangely enough, was something of a different story.

Ganesha Famillia was one of the most prestigious and powerful Familias in the entire city. They were the largest numerically, and they had the largest quantity of high-level adventurers. That didn’t necessarily make them the strongest Famillia, as some of the other Familia’s might be said to have warriors of a higher caliber. But they were definitely a part of the conversation when you talked about the strongest in Orario. They were hosting this year’s Celebration, which was fitting in many ways. The only wrinkle with that was that they were hosting it in their headquarters. And their headquarters’ exterior left something to be desired for.

It was built like a giant statue of the Famillia’s god, Ganesha. Carved in the shape of a tall, shirtless man with the head of an elephant, it was a testimony to the god’s vanity. In an absolutely bizarre design decision, its’ main doors were right around that man’s crotch. Legend said that whenever a Ganesha Famillia member was reminded of all the hard-won treasure that went into the construction of thiseccentric looking building, they would begin to stare into the distance and weep blood.

Hestia had accepted the invitation to the party, though she was typically inclined to avoid flashy gatherings like this. The fact that she generally preferred to avoid the decadence and degeneracy so delighted in by most gods meant that she was something of a black sheep amongst them whenever they gathered. She rendered a few polite smiles, and made some small talk with a few old acquaintances, but she was mostly left to stand around and sip her sparkling white wine by herself. That was fine. Her target wasn’t among the various glittering figures of youthful beauty anyways. He had just arrived and was lumbering over to greet her now.

“Hestia.” He rumbled, “It’s good to see you here. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.”

The newcomer was a giant, a head taller than even the tallest of the other partygoers. He sported a dark black beard and long hair that was well groomed but allowed to sway free. His biceps were thicker than some people, and they threatened to burst out of his slightly rumpled suit. Hairy, swarthy hands, no doubt littered with calluses, reached out to grab a chicken leg from the buffet table nearby, bringing it up to a face that was seemingly middle aged, just like hers. His eye was the only thing about him that truly screamed “god”. It positively glowed a fiery red, as it studied her with subdued happiness. Only one, eye, though, as the other was obscured by an eyepatch.

Hephaestus was one of the few gods who, like her, didn’t keep up a pretense of agelessness. She respected his no-nonsense, unpretentious attitude, as well as his personal candor and skill. They were both black sheep amongst gods, which made them natural friends. They were also relatives.

“Hello, Hephaestus.” She said, flashing her first genuine smile of the night, “How’s business for my favorite nephew?”

He grunted as he tore half the meat right of the bone, chewing and swallowing before answering:

“Famillia business is booming, but I am starting to get a bit bored. No one worth my time has put in a worthwhile request. I like to get some exercise every now and then, but I prefer a good excuse.”

He tore the remaining meat off the bone, as if in emphasis, and reached for another.

Eyes gleaming, Hestia couldn’t resist such an obvious cue:

“Oh really? Well, if you are looking for a new project then…”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Hiya Hephaestus! How’s tricks? And it’s little miss hearth-and-home as well! What’s it like being broke?”

Just then, she was interrupted by a newcomer to their little gathering, who shouted out the happy greeting. Both turned to see a young woman with a lithe figure and stark red hair. Her eyes were squinty, almost like slits, so you couldn’t see their color, but they gave off an air of mischief. She was one of the few gods who had eschewed formal attire, instead donning a short blue top with black sleeves and a blue skirt above black leggings below, leaving a pale midriff exposed. The aura around her practically screamed prankster.

Loki was another eccentric, though Hestia didn’t get along with her as well. She always spoke her mind, which could be refreshing, but it was less so when that mind was filled with enough chaos to start a riot. Or a war. Humoring Loki was a dangerous game, so the wise kept her at arm’s reach. Hephaestus was naturally good natured and stoic, though, so he generally took Loki’s antics in stride. Nodding to her, he said:

“Nothing to report on my end. Though, I will say that you are irresponsible enough with money that you have no grounds to make fun of the poor.”

Loki clutched a hand at her breast in mock horror, staggering a bit:

“Why Hephaestus, I never would have pegged you for a sharp tongue! Keep it up and you might just take my job as the world’s best trickster.”

The great slab of a man, looking for all the world like he had been carved out of a mountain, said nothing in response to this besides raising a single eyebrow. Loki studied him a bit in mock seriousness, before nodding:

“We’ll work on it.”

Hestia interrupted her little comedy routine, feeling a headache coming on:

“Good evening, Loki. It’s good to see you again. Now if-“

“Shhh” she said, silencing Hestia for the second time, before pointing, “Sorry to shush you, Little Miss Sunset, but we have Beauty herself incoming on your six o’clock.”

Fighting back another rising tide of annoyance, Hestia turned to see where Loki was pointing, half expecting another prank. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, as Freya herself truly was swaying her way gracefully over to their gathering, eyes locked on her.

Freya wasn’t called Beauty herself for nothing. Even among the physically perfect divinities, she was outrageously attractive. Her figure was perfect, practically shimmering as you stared at her and seemingly shifting depending on the viewer’s preferences. Her skin was silky smooth and milky white, without the most remote hint of a blemish. Her hair flashed a brilliant silver that almost threatened to blind an onlooker when combined with her effortless perfect smile. Her eyes shone a calming lilac that made most onlookers, both male and female, swoon. All of that was amplified by a beautiful white dress, hemmed with gold thread, that showed enough skin to be draw the eye but also managed to give off an aura of innocence and purity.

The vision was finished with a goblet filled with a deep burgundy wine that she swirled as she made her way over to the group of black sheep, the crowed unconsciously parting way for her. She was the first to speak to them, her lilting voice almost like that of a songbird:

“Good evening. Loki, Hephaestus, Hestia. It truly has been too long. I hope you have all been well.”

“Yahoo, Freya! I’ve been doin’ just fine. Famillia’s just as cute and lively as ever.”

“I’m glad to hear that Loki. And what about you, Hephaestus? Still enjoying your metallurgy?”

“…Yes.”

Hephaestus was largely immune to Freya’s charms, another aspect of his character that Hestia absolutely loved. He frowned a bit as he stared at her, wondering what her intentions were, presumably. Hestia had the same questions and fought not to come right out and ask as Freya turned her eyes towards her last.

“Hestia. I hope you aren’t still underneath that old church. It is absolutely beneath your dignity to suffer such a hovel. Especially for a goddess of the home.”

Freya’s smile widened a little as she scrutinized Hestia, nothing betraying anything less than benevolence. Hestia puffed herself up a bit and stared right back at the silver haired vixen.

“Things are just fine for me, Freya. I can assure you I do not need your concern.”

They maintained that staring contest for a while, Freya’s grin only growing more pleased:

“Is that so? Well, if you ever need any help, I would be happy to provide you with some of the best lodging money can buy. Free of charge, of course. For an old friend.”

Hestia’s eyes only narrowed further at the offer, trying to survey it for a trap:

“That won’t be necessary. I have a new Familia member who provides me with everything I need.”

That threw a slight hitch in Freya’s grin, which Hestia was satisfied to see. The woman recovered her impeccable smile, before continuing:

“Oh really. He must be quite the capable man, then.”

“He has outstanding talent. More than anyone else in that harem of floosies you call a Familia.”

Hestia was losing her temper now, but it couldn’t be helped. This witch got under her skin, no matter how hot she was.

“I see. Well, I know where I’m not wanted. Enjoy the party, my dears.”

And with that, Freya sashayed away, taking most of the eyes in the party with her. Loki mentioned something about seeing a man about a horse, and waddled away as well, leaving Hephaestus and Hestia alone once more. He was the first to speak, as he mused:

“I wonder what that was about.”

“Couldn’t tell you.” Hestia murmured, watching where Freya had disappeared with a vague feeling of worry settling in her stomach.

“…Wasn’t there something you wanted to say earlier?”

That snapped Hestia right out of her reverie, and she whirled to look at him:

“That’s right. Hephaestus, I hate to ask, but I need a big favor…”