Standing before them was none other than the hero himself.
He placed a hand on his hip like he was posing for a cologne ad, eyes drifting from Finn... to Majestria. His jaw slackened slightly, lips parting at the sight of her.
’Okay...’ Finn squinted.
He turned back toward Majestria. "Alright, Ma-jezebel, let’s just—"
Ardin knocked Finn’s hand away like it was a disease.
"Don’t touch her, you filthy rat."
"Who the fu—" Finn caught himself.
He inhaled deeply through his nose and straightened his posture like a Victorian butler. "Well, hello sir, what might be the great inconvenience to you this fine peasant hour?"
Ardin ignored him completely and turned to Majestria with concern. "Are you alright, miss?"
Majestria blinked, briefly thrown off—then her pride activated like a trap card. "Finally! Someone with taste. Thank you, brave hero."
Finn bit down on his lip. He could feel the vein in his forehead throbbing.
Ardin glanced back to him. "You smell... cursed. Like bad decisions and bottom-tier stats. And you would lay hands on this goddess?"
"I did not violate her!" Finn snapped.
’This guy’s already pissing me off. Him and his smug jawline.’
Majestria folded her arms and smirked. "Wrong. You dragged me into this backwater world, made me hit my beautiful face on the ground, and—let’s not forget—you placed your face between my boobs."
Ardin’s eyes narrowed. "You dare defile such a pure, noble woman? What do you have to say for yourself?"
’You traitorous divine thot!’
"That’s taken out of context!" Finn shouted. "She jumped on me and faceplanted me into her cleavage!"
Louder gasping. Like someone just ripped off a sacred anime opening.
Ardin’s disgust deepened. "And now you lie to tarnish her honor?!"
Seraphina gently stepped forward beside Ardin, her "divinity" bouncing like it was blessed by physics-breaking enchantments. She smiled softly.
"Ardin, my—uhm, our great hero... don’t you think she may bear some responsibility too? I mean, she is still—"
Majestria’s eye twitched. "Who does this divine bimbo think she is—"
Before she could finish, Ardin raised a hand to silence her, his expression steely.
"No. I know what must be done."
He dramatically pointed at Finn.
"This cursed scum... must be taught a lesson."
"Alright, buddy," Finn raised his fists, knuckles cracking like popcorn. "Let’s do this. I’m about to slap the Protagonist Complex outta you."
"I shall deliver justice where it belongs!" Ardin declared, dramatically puffing his chest.
Both heads turned to the sound.
The receptionist smacked the bell and looked up, voice dry and dead inside. "This is a no-fight zone. Ardin, you should know the rules by now. If you two want to throw hands, it’s gotta be a slap match."
Finn slowly lowered his fists in disbelief.
Ardin, on the other hand, drew his arm back like he was about to cast a goddamn holy spell. "If slapping is what’s needed for justice... then so be it!"
The guild erupted in cheers—but all for Ardin.
Seraphina squirmed with excitement, holding her hands to her blushing cheeks. "My large hero—I mean, our great hero—is about to show his mighty hand~!"
Finn sighed, watching her bounce beside the golden boy like he was some blessed Twinkie.
’You should be cheering for me, you holy wagyu steak...’
Chunkus waddled forward, each step a minor earthquake. He rubbed his belly with a grin.
"This sounds like a time for a stew."
Nobody questioned what that meant.
The receptionist gestured them to a high, round table in the center of the guild hall. "C’mon, gladiators. Let’s get this over with."
Now facing each other across the slap arena, Finn stared down Ardin like he was the final boss in a visual novel titled "How To Piss Me Off: Deluxe Edition."
’Oh, I’m gonna slap this stupid idiot back into his place.’
Majestria lounged in the back like a bored empress watching the peasants fight for her favor, clearly loving every second of this testosterone-fueled dumpster fire.
The guild and the hero squad lined the sides. Sort of.
Seraphina stood on Ardin’s side, bouncing with every breath, practically drooling encouragement.
Chunkus? He’d found a buffet table and was now chewing loudly on some unidentifiable meat.
He sat in the far back corner, half-shrouded in darkness, brooding like he was in an entirely different anime.
This entire holy conflict started the second Ardin laid eyes on Majestria’s triple-S tier rack and decided to put on the Nice Guy cape. Finn could practically hear the JRPG battle music in the background.
’This isn’t about justice. This is about boob-induced delusion.’
’And I’m going to slap that delusion out of his face.’
The receptionist stood to the side, arms crossed like she was babysitting toddlers in cosplay.
"Okay, here are the rules. Each contestant gets one slap. Whoever falls, cries, or gives in—loses. Got it?"
’This is gonna be easy. Like those slap competitions on TV... except this time I’m the guy with unresolved trauma and a caffeine addiction.’
Finn gripped the edge of the table like a man ready to reenact childhood beatings.
Ardin smirked at him, that righteous gleam in his eyes.
"You are about to be given a divine slap."
"Ardin goes first," the receptionist said flatly.
"What?!" Finn snapped. "Shouldn’t I go first? He’s the one who threw the tantrum!"
"But he accepted the challenge," she shrugged.
Finn blinked in disbelief.
’This world makes less sense than anime filler episodes.’
"Looks like someone’s scared," Ardin said with a smug grin. "Afraid to face judgment?"
"Looks like someone can’t keep his nose outta someone’s tits," Finn barked back, eyes flicking at Seraphina.
Seraphina gasped, clutching her chest in scandal. "He would never do something so horrendous! Ardin is noble! Ardin is sweet! Ardin is—handsome!" She visibly drooled a little. Her boobs bounced just from saying his name.
Finn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, at least I own my perversion. I’m honest with my sins."
Seraphina blinked, confused. That may have turned her on just a little.
"Eyes up here, pervert!" Ardin snapped. "Are you trying to seduce my priestess now too?! You absolute rat bastard!"
Finn shook his head. "I’m not trying to seduce anyone. But if I was, I wouldn’t do it in full plate armor like a medieval pimp."
"Enough," the receptionist said, clearly reconsidering her life choices. "Ardin, you may now slap the bastard."
Finn braced himself. He’d taken slaps before—cheating girlfriends, angry roommates, a nun with an arm like a baseball pitcher.
He was forged in chaos.
Ardin cocked his hand back like he was summoning the Spirit Bomb.
A wave of power surged through Finn’s face. Wind exploded past his cheek like he’d been hit by the god of Febreze.
Everyone in the guild gasped. Even Chunkus stopped mid-bite. Raze peeked from the shadows with one glowing red eye.
The red handprint burned across his face. His hair swayed from the force. But his feet?
Solid. Unmoving. Unphased.
Even Majestria raised her eyebrows. "Damn."
Ardin stepped back in shock, clutching his trembling hand. "Th-This can’t be...! He’s cheating!"
He lunged to slap Finn again—but the receptionist slammed her hand down on the table.
"NO. That was your slap. He’s still standing. He’s still in the game."
Ardin stared, mouth open. Finn slowly turned back to face him with pure, unfiltered rage and a crooked grin.