Backstage in the banquet hall, Apollo, yet to make his entrance, had observed the entire scene.
His expression was fervent.
"Did you hear that, Hyakinthos? Orsted won Ottar's respect!" he roared excitedly.
"Do you know what this ans?"
It ant that if he could snatch Orsted from Hestia before he matured, Apollo's Familia could secure a spot among Orario's elite, potentially rivaling Freya and Loki's Familias in a triadic power balance.
Apollo felt lucky to have spotted Orsted early.
If he could orchestrate a War Ga and claim Orsted, his Familia's rise was assured.
The more he thought about it, the more thrilled he grew, oblivious to the seething anger in Hyakinthos's eyes.
Hyakinthos wasn't upset by Apollo's ambitions but by Orsted himself.
Why did Orsted captivate Apollo so? That favor should be his. Yet, he masked his fury, bowing slightly.
"It's an honor for Orsted to serve you, Lord Apollo," he said softly.
"I'll cherish him when the ti cos," Apollo replied, stepping out to greet the gods as host.
Apollo didn't act imdiately.
The Banquet of the Gods had just begun, and he wanted the deities to enjoy themselves before launching his plan.
After brief pleasantries, he retreated, leaving the floor to the gods.
The gods soon showed Orsted what a banquet was.
Each brought a Familia mber, and dancing swept the hall.
Apollo's rule ensured most gods brought opposite-sex adventurers, though so goddesses brought sa-sex ones.
Male gods, however, avoided male partners to ensure dance pairings.
As gods led their adventurers in elegant ballroom dances, the hall's atmosphere turned romantic.
Orsted didn't care for dancing—he didn't know how.
Hestia, bickering with Loki after shooing Freya, seed uninterested too.
Perhaps she knew Orsted couldn't dance.
In Tenkai, Hestia had learned ballroom dancing with Hephaestus, but without Orsted's skill, she skipped it.
Tonight, her focus was Apollo's inevitable challenge.
But while Hestia abstained, another stepped up.
"Orsted, may I have this dance?" Naaza asked, kneeling on one knee, gloved hand extended like a knight.
Orsted blinked.
Shouldn't n invite won? Why was Naaza asking him instead of Miach?
He scanned for Miach, spotting him with Hers.
Miach raised his wine glass in silent encouragent, while Hers grinned mischievously, echoing the gesture.
Orsted's eyes twitched, turning back to Naaza, still kneeling with a fervent gaze.
Hesitating, he said, "How about I invite you instead, Naaza?"
He couldn't stomach being the "princess" to her "knight."
The role reversal felt too stark.
Naaza smirked slyly, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the dance.
Flustered but unwilling to embarrass her, Orsted went along.
His presence, already a spectacle after the elves' reverence and Ottar's challenge, drew eyes.
Sixty percent of the hall—gods and adventurers—watched Orsted and Naaza dance.
"Miach, you let Naaza steal my man! We're done when we get back!" Hestia, restrained by Asfi, fud.
"Hers, you're next—Orsted's gonna thrash you!"
Nearby gods smirked, enjoying the drama.
Loki, scheming, rallied deities to block Hestia from Orsted's view, maintaining the illusion she was still arguing with her.
Freya, lingering at the banquet, watched the dance with crossed arms.
"Ottar, can we herd a Minotaur swarm here?"
"Impossible, Lady Freya," Ottar replied. "But you could invite Orsted to dance."
"Good idea. I'll do it later."
Orsted's learning curve was sharp.
Under Naaza's lead, he picked up ballroom dancing quickly, finishing without mishap. Just as he exhaled in relief, another hand appeared.
"Orsted, care to dance with ?" Freya asked softly, her violet eyes glinting.
Feeling her intensifying charm, Orsted's eyes twitched. He extended his hand slowly.
"I'd be honored…"
Her gaze warned that refusal might trigger her divine power.
His Charisma, though strong, might not hold. Better to play along for now.
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