Ares headed toward the Tower at the heart of the Academy City of Babel alongside Ket, intending to attend the entrance ceremony hosted by the humans.
Presently, they walked along one of the eight grand avenues stretching toward the Tower of Babel, which loomed directly in the center of the city. Crowds of students clad in a vibrant array of colors streamed down the street. Every one of them was presumably bound for the citywide entrance ceremony.
Blending into the throng of students, they made their way down Babel's Main Street until they arrived before the colossal Tower piercing the clouds above.
"To think mere humans built this... Once again, I find myself astonished by their kind."
At Ares's candid impression, Ket offered a nod of agreement.
"Indeed, I share that sentiment entirely."
Humans were incapable of working divine miracles. Erecting a structure of this scale without divine intervention must have demanded an unfathomable amount of labor and engineering. Yet they had achieved it through sheer intellect and perseverance. The relentless obsession of the human race in their pursuit of self-interest sent a genuine chill down the spine.
Though, for reasons beyond understanding, Ares was currently one of those very humans, which stirred up rather conflicted feelings.
For the time being, there was no choice but to go with the flow as a mortal.
"Let us move on—"
Just as Ares urged Ket forward, an enraged shout struck their ears. Glancing toward the commotion, they saw a crowd had formed. At the center of the circle, an Elf girl with black hair tied in a half-up style knelt on the ground with her head bowed, surrounded by several Elves.
"You disgrace to our kind! How dare you show your face here?!" a male Elf bellowed.
"Seriously, it's sickening! Just having you in my sight gives me chills!" a female Elf spat in disgust.
A tall male Elf with slicked-back golden hair, seemingly the ringleader, crouched before the girl and seized a fistful of her hair.
"Listen closely. Take some friendly advice: get out of Babel right this instant."
He issued the demand like a blatant threat. Though trembling, the girl shook her head.
"No..."
She voiced her refusal in a voice so faint it nearly died in the air.
"You really don't get it, do you? This isn't a suggestion. It's an order from Lorelei."
With a cruel smirk, he struck the girl across the face.
You scoundrel!
Up until now, I had always imagined Elves to be a far more refined and clever race. At the very least, they were not supposed to be the sort of brutes who would strike a defenseless woman.
In any case, Ares lacked the patience to stand by and watch.
"Stop that!"
Pushing through the onlookers, Ares shouted to intervene. Every gaze instantly converged on Ares. What began as idle curiosity rapidly warped into an expression that had never once been directed at Ares before.
"You insolent dogs..."
Noticing the hostility in their eyes, Ket glared at the surrounding crowd with a gaze as sharp as a hawk's.
The man with the slicked-back golden hair tossed the black-haired girl aside like trash.
"Hah! A failure from that run-down dump thinks they can lecture someone from Shelton Academy?"
Sneering, he rose and swaggered over, tilting his head with an overbearing sneer. Judging by the context, Shelton Academy was one of the institutions within Babel. In this city, students were divided into different schools based on their entrance exam scores, establishing a distinct hierarchy. Shelton Academy had to be one of the top-tier institutions.
"Indeed. I care not how prestigious you may be, but that gives you no right to discipline a frail girl. Inflicting one-sided violence upon someone who cannot resist—where I come from, we call that being a coward."
Ares delivered the condemnation firmly, biting off every word.
"Huh?! Did you just call me a coward?!"
Thick veins bulged on his forehead as he roared in fury.
"Yes, I will say it plainly. You are the lowest sort of coward. And the same goes for all of you who merely stand by and watch."
I swept my gaze across the crowd, declaring it with absolute contempt.
A beat later, a deafening wave of furious jeers erupted.
"Don't get cocky, you bottom-tier trash!"
"A bunch of losers thinking they're hot stuff!"
"What right does a worthless reject who could only scrape into Babel's worst school have to talk down to us?!"
Every insult was hurled at Ares's affiliation—Ouboro Academy. Ouboro was the absolute bottom of Babel's hierarchy, a dumping ground where the lowest-scoring applicants who barely passed the entrance exams were crammed together.
From Ket's earlier intelligence gathering, it was clear that Babel operated under a rigid, extreme meritocracy.
At the pinnacle were the students belonging to the Tower. They received an intensive, elite education as prospective future leaders destined for high-ranking positions across every field and faction in the world.
Next were Babel's traditional, prestigious academies. Their students enjoyed world-class education under top-tier instructors, backed by massive, unconditional budgets granted annually by Babel Headquarters.
Beneath them lay the mid-tier general academies. They received fixed budgets that grew based on the achievements of their students. Consequently, both faculty and pupils in these schools were relentless in their drive to scout and cultivate talent.
At the very bottom were the inferior academies. Given only the bare minimum funding, they were attended by those considered Babel's dregs. The quality and morale of the instructors were abysmal, and the students were treated with cold neglect in every respect.
Among these bottom-tier schools, Ouboro Academy was regarded as the absolute worst of the worst. It was Ares's enrollment there that drew such vitriolic stares from the crowd.
"And what of it? Even if my abilities were lacking, that does not change the fact that all of you turned a blind eye to that shameless brute's actions. Your indignation is utterly beside the point."
"Then let's see how well you resist, dammit!"
His voice shaking with rage, the golden-haired man lunged forward with a punch.
Ares evaded every blow with paper-thin margins.
"Damn it! Why can't I hit you?!"
"With your level of skill, you could never hope to touch me."
It was true that Ares was currently a mere mortal, unable to wield divine power. Even so, Ares had been drilled in martial combat from an early age by brothers who were War Gods. Crude swings reminiscent of a child's tantrum stood no chance of landing a direct hit.
"Y-You worthless piece of trash...!"
The humiliation proved too much for him. Veins stood out on his forehead as if ready to burst, and bearing a look of murderous hatred, he pulled a small rod from his waist and bellowed:
"Hey, Salama! Time to work!"
The moment the shout left his throat—
"Keep it down. I can hear you just fine without all the screaming."
With that sullen voice, a massive, flame-wreathed lizard measuring two mel in length manifested before the Elf.
"A-A salamander?!"
"Are you kidding me?! Right in front of the Tower?!"
Panicked cries rippled through the onlookers.
"A—Ariel-sama, please get back!"
Ket stepped forward protectively, drawing a blade from its waist and adopting a defensive stance. Meanwhile, the surrounding crowd began to scatter in panic.
"H-Hey, Torla, that's crossing the line!"
"She's right! You could get expelled for this!"
Desperate attempts to restrain him came even from Torla's fellow Elves. And for good reason.
This is bad...
That was a fire spirit, a salamander. In this world, fire-attribute spirits and phantom beasts were exceptional beings, drawing their power from the Flame God Surtr.
Surtr was an ancient deity who had engulfed the world in a sea of flames long before the evil god Rot King ever came into existence. I had been told that my father, the managing god of Lemuria at the time, had narrowly claimed victory and successfully sealed him away. My father was a foremost authority on sealing arts, and having placed the seal under the strictest security, there was no chance of it breaking.
Nevertheless, Surtr's power was immense, and the magical energy naturally seeping from his confinement continued to empower higher-tier fire entities. This salamander was no exception, having been substantially bolstered by that lingering power. In a mortal body, overcoming it with mere swordsmanship would be extraordinarily difficult.
"Shut up! Salama, put that arrogant woman permanently out of commission!"
"I don't mind, but I expect my payment in full."
"Yeah, take half their lifeforce!"
Torla pointed at the Elves behind him as he barked the order.
"What?! W-Wait, no—!"
The targeted Elves opened their mouths in sheer panic, but before they could finish, they collapsed limp to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.
"Contract sealed!"
Salama let out a delighted hiss, and a ring of blazing fire shot up around Ares and Ket.
"Now then, since you're to be put out of commission, I think I'll burn off your arms and legs before roasting that pretty face of yours. Ah, you might pass out from the agony halfway through, but don't you worry. I'll wake you right back up with fresh pain. The only real concern is if you drop dead from the shock."
As Salama gleefully described the horrifying ordeal in store, Ket raised its blade:
"Scum! As if I would let you!"
Ket braced its sword and wove a defensive barrier. In that split second, a fiery tail swept through the air, sending Ket crashing into the pillar of flames.
"Aaaand you're out."
"Ket!"
Slamming into the fiery column, Ket was instantly engulfed in a violent inferno.
As I tried to rush forward, a wall of flames surged before me, cutting off my path.
Damn it! Why am I always so powerless?!
Why had all of Ares's actions backfired so terribly of late?
Consumed by hatred, I had dispatched Ramiel to Lemuria to gather information on that fly-monster god, only for Ramiel to go missing. When I tried to rescue her, the spell went haywire, trapping me in a human body. And now, through my own rashness, I stood helpless before an intermediate spirit, on the verge of losing a precious retainer.
"I-It was my fault! Please, spare Ket!"
Desperation took over. Driven solely by the desire not to lose a cherished subordinate to my own foolishness, I abandoned every shred of divine pride and pleaded.
"No can do. Putting you out of commission—that's the deal. See, I'm a perfectionist, so I like to be thorough with my definitions. 'Out of commission' doesn't just mean breaking the body; it means breaking the spirit, too. That's how I see it."
Staring into that grotesquely twisted, reptilian face, one thing became painfully clear: Ares's words would never reach it.
No! I refuse to lose anyone else!
To Ares, Ket was practically a parent. I could not bear to lose Ket in a place like this!
"Anyone! Please, help us!"
What spilled from my lips was a desperate plea for salvation, utterly unbefitting of a god. Naturally, in a dire situation like this, there was no reason to believe such a cry would be answered.
"Nobody's coming to save you!"
Just as Salama made the triumphant declaration, a calm voice cut through the air.
"No, that's not quite true."
With the boy's words, every trace of flame in the area was wiped from existence. Standing beside Ket where the fire had vanished was a black-haired boy wearing the uniform of Ouboro Academy—just like Ares—radiating a calm, commanding presence.