God of What? 7 (Patreon)

God of What?

Chapter 7

-VB-

“Ha? Don’t worry about it! It’s not like it’s our business, right?”

Renna looked at her goddess. As a Level 3 adventurer, she wasn’t considered someone important in Loki Familia. She was, at best, a supporter for any of the stronger adventurers when they went on long-duration expeditions to the lower levels, which was why she valued the time she managed to get with her goddess, because most of the time, it was the high adventurers who hogged her time and attention.

Her goddess just smiled and waved her hands dismissively. “It’s not a big deal,” she dismissed Renna’s concerns. “Things happen in the dungeon, and you know that people settle their grudges there!” But then she leaned in with narrowed eyes and a grin. “But who was it?”

“Ah… It was … it was the Bloody Fist.”

Loki blinked. “Bloody Fist?” she repeated as she tilted her head. “Isn’t that … uh... The new guy! The new god, that Mars guy. Kinda plain-looking god.”

Renna didn’t comment on a god. Deities can hold their grudges for a long time, and one insult given now can result in her future children dying a gruesome death in front of her in return.

Her goddess rocked back and forth lazily on the bed, having just completed her falna update, and then jumped off of it.

“I’m curious. I know that shorty is supposed to have teamed up with Mars guy.”

“Umm, who might that be?”

“Hmm?”

“The … Shorty.”

“Ah! Hestia! The big-titty shorty!”

Renna was not going to comment on that, mostly because her goddess was also quite short.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna go ask if she knows Mars has a child that’s up to that kind of stuff. I know that shorty isn’t one for that.”

“Is that … okay?”

“Hmm?”

“Just straight up asking a goddess about what happened in the dungeon when it doesn’t even involve her child?”

Loki looked like she was reconsidering.

Oh. No. She was smiling.

“Why not? It just might get fun.”

Oh no.

-VB-

When I saw what happened in the dungeon, I considered it to be a good thing.

It gave me a convenient excuse and method to get rid of those that would become weaker than us.

Of course, other Familias might use it against me, but I had expendable “children.” Besides, even if Yor and other future branches of mine died, I could always bring them back.

They were me.

I was them.

What was a little death between bits and pieces of myself?

Anyway, I was back in the Hostess of Fertility, because earning money by drinking was the best way to earn money.

“One more!” I laughed with a red face and ears. The hostess, Mia, set it down for us, and she gave me a knowing look.

This was going to become regular and she wasn’t going to say shit because everyone was paying her to give me and whichever poor sap who thought they could unseat the unrivaled king of drinking.

My latest challenge glared up at me.

“You… cheater…!” he hiccuped and then fell sideways.

The entire bar cheered as the reigning king won once again!

I hiccuped, too, because I was also drunk. Just not blackout drunk.

Someone else came down, and I recognized who it was.

Betes. Bet? Bett?

B.E.T. something.

“And who might you be?” I asked with a bit of a slur and sway. That got the bar to quiet down, but whispers began again as speculators thought that they just might see the king get usurped. After all, everyone was supposed to recognize this guy. Their reactions said it!

Whoever this guy was.

“Bete Loga of Loki Familia.” When Mia set a pint down, he downed it in one-go.

“Heyo, Beto!” Shit, I was really drunk. I might actually lose if I slip up right now. There was no way in hell that I was going to let that pile of gold go!

“Bete.”

“Bet.”

His eyebrow twitched.

“Hey, hey, you said … Loga, right?” I asked before downing another pint.

“Yeah?”

“I mean. Is that like a name you chose or like …?”

“It was my family’s name.”

“Really?” I drawled. “So … you’re a werewolf … that are associated with … moon. And … your family name is … corruption of the word moon in a different language?” I asked with a frown. My head then almost fell down to the table, but I stopped myself and brought it back up. The alcohol was getting to me~! Just a slight purge right about … now.

He stared at me before downing another pint.

“So what?” he growled.

“So what? So nothing! It’s just funny~!”

And downed another pint.

He downed it while glaring at me.

Then I downed it.

And he downed it.

And I downed i…

And he down…

And I do…

And h…

An…

…

---

“Weee~!” I laughed as I stood up, swaying almost violently at this point. Purging was no longer possible because I wasn’t losing enough alcohol through sweat. My enzymes were working overtime, and some of them were breaking down from being torn apart in the alcohol-concentrated fluids within amn organ pouch I made just for this.

Beto, on the other hand, remained faceplanted on the table.

“I win~!”

The bar roared with cheer.

I drunkenly and sloppily scooped up the valis into a leather pouch. I purposely missed a tenth of the coins, playing up my extreme drunkenness, waved at the people and left.

The adventurers who’d been watching and betting quickly realized behind me that I left a lot of coins.

And they jumped it.

Mia’s angry roar drowned out my laughter as I walked away, warm and happy.

I wondered what that was about. Didn’t Loki Familia generally stick to their little cliques?