Chapter 67: I'll Make Freya Regret This!
A vortex of dark energy twisted violently through the room.
Out of pure reflex, Akira summoned a unit from the Shadow Legion—a colossal figure known as a Sumo Khan. Among all the types of Shadowkhan, these were the unrivaled titans of brute strength. The only drawback? Their movement speed was abysmally slow.
Their bodies were massive, built like living fortresses with bulging muscles as tough as steel. They could tear buildings apart like wet paper, and physical blows barely scratched their thick hide. Even the size of their open palms easily dwarfed a full-grown man.
Akira thought to himself—if he had to face Ottar again today, things would play out very differently. This time, he wouldn't walk away completely drained like before.
However...
"What in the world do you think you're doing—?!"
A furious scream rang through the room like thunder cracking through the silence.
Startled, Akira turned around—only for his expression to instantly freeze in horror.
The Sumo Khan… had materialized right in front of them.
The massive shadow warrior had crushed a luxurious wardrobe in its spawning point, splintering its ornate wooden frame like it was nothing. The contents—gowns, robes, and fine silks—were scattered in a sea of ruined fabric.
And not just any clothes.
They were Hephaestus' private collection—exquisite, one-of-a-kind creations handcrafted by the finest artisans in Orario. Each piece was priceless.
Normally, Hephaestus guarded that wardrobe with religious devotion. Back when she lived with Hestia, she even locked it shut, fearing accidental ruin.
And now?
In a single moment of recklessness… everything was destroyed.
Without wasting a second, Akira dismissed the Sumo Khan. The giant vanished instantly, drawn back into the Shadow Realm. He realized—he had messed up. Big time.
He froze.
Every man instinctively knew that a woman's wardrobe was sacred ground. And now, his summoned beast had violated that sanctum and trampled on the goddess's treasures.
"Shin~ Akira~..."
That soft whisper cut through the air like the chill of death.
It was the voice of a vengeful spirit... one from the depths of the underworld.
Cold sweat trickled down Akira's spine. He had never been this scared. Not even when he'd flirted with Hephaestus. Not even when he'd stolen a kiss.
But now?
Now… he was terrified.
"H-Hey... Hephaestus, I swear I didn't mean to! I didn't think the Giant-class Shadowkhan would be that big. I'm sorry! Really, really sorry!" he pleaded, hands up in surrender.
"Oh? You think a simple apology is enough to fix this?"
Her voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that made even gods shiver.
Her glare pierced through him like a thousand sharpened blades.
"Then tell me," she continued. "What do you propose I do to you?"
"Anything. Name it. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you," Akira said immediately.
"There were twenty-two dresses and evening gowns in that wardrobe. Combined value? Over one billion valis. So… what do you think I should do?"
"Uhh... let me fix this. I'll replace them. One by one. I promise."
"Fine. I'll hold you to that."
"I said it, and I mean it," he replied with a serious face.
...Though deep down, he didn't mean it that seriously.
After all, wasn't he living off his wife's money right now? If Hephaestus bought the clothes again... technically, he bought them too, right?
And besides, the gowns weren't torn or burnt. Just knocked over. All they needed was a little cleaning and folding.
Hephaestus, unaware of the sly thoughts in his head, quietly began gathering her fallen dresses.
Thankfully, she was naturally tidy, and the place was mostly dust-free. The garments weren't actually damaged—just... violated.
Honestly, her outburst had been more of a venting session. An excuse to scold him. A distraction from the truth:
Akira had stolen a kiss. And seen all of her. Even though… that had already happened before.
Suddenly, Akira changed the subject. His tone turned serious.
"By the way... about Freya. What are you planning to do?"
Hephaestus' eyes sharpened. "Fight, of course. She touched what's mine. If I stay silent, she'll think I'm some pushover goddess she can step on."
Her voice carried no hesitation. Just righteous fury.
To her, Akira wasn't just any adventurer under her banner.
If it had been someone else—even Tsubaki—she might've let it slide.
But Akira... stirred something deeper.
"Calm down. If this turns into a full-blown war, we'll be at a serious disadvantage," Akira warned.
Hephaestus fell silent.
He had a point. Hephaestus Familia was massive in business, craftsmanship, and trade. But militarily? They were... lacking.
Freya Familia, on the other hand, was a powerhouse. With Ottar—Level 7—as its spearhead, several Level 6s in reserve, more Level 5s than she could count, and an army of Level 4s and under...
The disparity was overwhelming.
Formally, Freya and Loki were considered the two ruling factions of Orario—The Twin Kings.
But in raw force?
Freya was the stronger of the two.
Worse, she was the Goddess of Beauty—a seductress who had enchanted countless men. Many gods and adventurers had once been her lovers... and many still obeyed her whims.
In a war, they would become invisible threats—lurking in every corner.
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Start simple. Cut all business ties with Freya Familia."
"That much, I can do."
"After that... don't do anything."
"What? Nothing?"
"Exactly. The rest is my job. This is my stage. And I'll take it back with my own hands."
"You..."
Hephaestus stared at him for a long while. Her eyes searching for doubt. But in the end, she said nothing.
She trusted him.
Even when he was Level 3, Akira had gone toe-to-toe with Ottar thanks to his sacred artifact. Now he was Level 4. Stronger. Smarter. Sharper.
His chances had grown significantly.
"I believe in you, Akira. Make her regret it."
"I will."
He smiled—quiet, focused, resolute.
He wasn't doing this just to get revenge. He was doing it... to protect her. To spare her from being dragged into something ugly.
Even though she was the goddess of his Familia, that didn't mean she had absolute control over every member.
If war broke out, traitors would surface. Allies would hesitate.
You couldn't expect a bunch of blacksmiths to fight elite war veterans.
But now, things were different.
Akira's Template Inheritance had reached 40%.
His summoning capacity had expanded drastically—from the original [32 × 32 × 32] formation to [64 × 64 × 64 × 64].
From 96 summoned units… to 256.
Alone, Akira now wielded the strength of an entire mid-tier Familia.
One man... one army.
It was no longer a metaphor. It was reality.
And most terrifying of all?
A shadow hunter always strikes from where you least expect it.
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