The Outcasts and the Asgardians stood on the brink of battle, tension thick in the air. Maxwell lay bleeding out on the ground, his life slipping away with each passing second. Time was not on the Outcasts' side.
The Asgardians were a formidable force. Valkyrie, a fierce female human warrior; Loki, a towering giant and masterful mage; Ullr, a half-elf archer with deadly precision; and their leader, Thor—the strongest among them. In his hands, he wielded Mjölnir, a hammer forged from a stone so indestructible that only the most potent magic could shape it.
"You claim this dungeon as yours?" Arthur spoke with forced politeness. "But this is our quest."
Thor scoffed, his eyes crackling with energy. "A quest you failed to complete in two days. That makes it fair game." He took a step forward, his voice dropping to a lethal growl. "But simply leaving isn't enough to make up for the insult of walking into my domain. Only your deaths will suffice."
Without another word, Thor lunged at Arthur, hammer raised. Arthur met him head-on, sword clashing against Mjölnir. The impact sent shockwaves tearing through all seven levels of the dungeon, the sheer force shaking the cavernous space. Wind roared, debris scattered, and lightning carved violent streaks through the air.
Fay's heart pounded—Maxwell needed her, but the raging battle between Arthur and Thor turned the battlefield into a storm of raw power. Every time she tried to move, gale-force winds pushed her back, while lightning struck dangerously close. Time was slipping away. Maxwell was slipping away.
Desperation clawed at her chest. If Arthur couldn't end this fight soon, she would have to intervene. Even if it meant stripping off her armour and risking everything.
As their weapons clashed once more, Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Can we pause this for a moment? My party member is dying, and I'd like him healed first." He even managed a smile.
Thor's eyes darkened, fury igniting within him. "Enough with the act." His hammer surged with crackling energy. "We've known each other long enough for me to see through your lies. You're nothing but a selfish bastard who only cares about himself!"
Arthur hesitated—just for a second. That was all Thor needed. With a mighty push, he sent Arthur skidding backward, breaking their deadlock.
But the moment of stillness was brief. Arthur's mana flared, monstrous and untamed. The ground beneath him cracked under the pressure of his power. His expression hardened.
"Alright then," he said, his voice a quiet promise of devastation. "No more holding back. You're dead."
Thor's lips curled into a grin. "Have at thee!"
Just as they were about to collide, a blur of motion split the battlefield. A towering figure appeared between them, moving with inhuman speed. In an instant, he caught their weapons—hammer and sword—mid-swing, gripping them effortlessly. Then, with a sheer display of overwhelming power, he flung both warriors through the dungeon walls as if they weighed nothing.
The entire cavern went silent.
The figure stood tall, disappointment etched into his face. "Are you two serious?" His voice was calm, but the authority in it sent a chill through the room. "You were seconds away from destroying this entire dungeon—and killing your own party members with your reckless stupidity."
The moment the others laid eyes on the man, shock rippled through both parties. They knew exactly who he was.
Arthur and Thor groaned as they pulled themselves from the rubble, glancing up at the figure. Then, to everyone's surprise, they bowed their heads—not in fear, but in respect.
"We're sorry, Teacher!" they said in unison.
The man was Hercules. The same adventurer that reassured Lucy in the guild Hall.
The strongest adventurer in the world. A living legend with a level of 99. One of only three adventurers who never needed a party to complete a quest. He had just returned from what was meant to be a ten-year quest —one he had finished in only five.
Hercules exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Someone should tend to the dying gu—" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes landing on Fay, who was already kneeling beside Maxwell, healing him with unwavering focus.
Hana and the others could only stare, their minds struggling to process what they had just witnessed.
Arthur and Thor—two of the strongest adventurers they had ever known—shared the same teacher.
And that teacher was Hercules.
Hercules sighed, disappointment etched across his face. Despite their years apart, his former students hadn't changed. Their reckless behaviour brought back memories of their youth, and with that, he scolded them accordingly.
"Arthur," he began, crossing his arms, "you still haven't learned. You act like your stats put you above the rules. If you can't complete a quest within the time limit, it becomes fair game for another party. That's how it works."
Arthur clenched his jaw, his usual confidence faltering under his teacher's stern gaze.
"And you, Thor." Hercules turned to the thunder-wielding warrior, his voice laced with frustration. "Always escalating things. Always so quick to resolve problems with brute force. You nearly killed your own friend today. Your temper puts not just your party at risk, but everyone in this dungeon."
Thor tensed but held his tongue, knowing Hercules was right.
Both warriors bowed their heads. "We're sorry, Teacher."
Hercules let the silence linger before suddenly bursting into laughter. "Ah, I missed you idiots." Despite his disappointment, there was warmth in his tone.
Meanwhile, Maxwell stirred. His vision was blurry, but as his senses returned, he saw Fay kneeling beside him, tears welling in her eyes. Relief flooded her expression.
"You're okay," she whispered, voice thick with emotion.
But Maxwell didn't share her relief. He wasn't okay.
The overwhelming power he had wielded yesterday—the power that had allowed him to stand against the Demon Lord—was gone, as if it had never existed. A cold realization settled in his chest. Was it temporary? Had he imagined it? Was he still just… weak?
Frustration and self-loathing gripped him, but before he could spiral further, Fay reached out and took his hand.
"Maxwell, stop this." Her voice was firm, yet gentle. "Stop trying to prove yourself."
He looked up at her, startled.
"You did not defeat the Demon Lord. That much is clear. I understand what you're going through—more than anyone. I know how much you want to rid yourself of this weakness, but do you remember the promise I made to you?"
Maxwell blinked. A memory surfaced—her words from long ago.
"I promised I would cure you of your weakness, Maxwell," she continued, squeezing his hand. "So leave everything to me. Just… please, don't put yourself in harm's way again."
Maxwell wanted to believe her, to let himself be comforted, but her words only deepened the ache in his heart. She still didn't believe him. She thought his story about the Supreme Being—the mysterious man who had granted him power—was just a delusion, a coping mechanism for his weakness.
Before he could respond, a sudden chime rang from every adventurer's communicator stone.
An urgent announcement from the Great Council.
Hercules grinned. "Perfect timing! Now I get to walk back to the city with my students."
The Asgardians groaned. Their dungeon raid would have to wait. Worse, they were now stuck traveling with a rival party they despised. The awkwardness was unbearable, but Hercules—oblivious or simply amused—marched ahead, humming to himself.
When they reached the city, the streets were packed. Adventurers, merchants, nobles, and commoners alike had all gathered in the central square, waiting for the Great Council's announcement.
Arthur had a hunch. 'This must be about the recent death of the 10th Demon Lord.'
But while the others speculated, Maxwell barely registered his surroundings. His thoughts churned, trying to piece together what had happened to him.
And then, it hit him.
Just before he unleashed the Void against Tadesse, he had heard something—a voice. A mechanical, almost synthetic voice, speaking directly in his mind.
His heart pounded. What was that?
Before he could process it, a hand suddenly wrapped around his shoulder.
"Hey there, Maxwell."
A familiar voice. A casual tone, like that of an old friend.
Maxwell stiffened. His breath caught in his throat.
"I didn't think I'd have to come back for a visit this early."
Slowly, he turned his head.
Standing beside him, grinning like they were long-time drinking buddies, was the mysterious man he had met at the bar.
The supposed Supreme Being.