Chapter 68: A Silent Surge of Darkness
Today, Akira didn't head for the Dungeon.
He had something far more important to deal with.
Standing at the base of the towering skyscraper known as Babel Tower, he looked up at its spire piercing the sky. A sharp glint flickered in his eyes—cold and resolute, like the frost on a drawn blade.
What happened yesterday still echoed clearly in his mind.
There was no way he could let it go.
Freya, the Goddess of Beauty and Love, had tried to capture him.
Worse—she planned to hand him over to Ottar for "training" so that he could be reshaped into a perfect, obedient follower—someone who would worship no other goddess but her.
That alone was enough to ignite a storm of fury within him.
And Akira wasn't someone who let insults slide without retaliation.
From the shadows cast by the midday sun, countless glowing red eyes slowly emerged—eyes that would've sent chills down the spine of any ordinary passerby who happened to glance their way. A haunting, spectral vision beneath the bright daylight.
They were the Ninja Shadowkhan—elite assassins of the Shadowkhan Legion. Among all the shadow variants, these were the most balanced and versatile, equally adept at stealth, speed, and combat.
"Go," Akira ordered, his voice quiet yet commanding.
"Seek out every member of Freya Familia who's Level 3 or below. If the opportunity presents itself—eliminate them."
Although the sun still blazed above, a frigid breeze seemed to drift through the air, as if Akira's words had summoned a winter wind that slid icily down one's spine.
With that single command, the Ninja Shadowkhan faded into darkness, melting into the shadows beneath them. Their bodies vanished, dispersing like ripples across a pool of black ink, leaving no trace behind.
Created for infiltration and assassination, the Ninja Shadowkhan were deadly in their element. Their speed, agility, and ability to phase through walls made them silent reapers. Each carried an arsenal: kunai, shuriken, short katanas, smoke bombs—tools selected not for style, but for lethality.
In the Dungeon, their full potential was wasted. But against humans?
That's where they truly shined.
Freya Familia was among the strongest factions in Orario. Akira knew full well that without unleashing his sealed powers, taking them head-on was suicide—a fantasy too wild to entertain.
They didn't just have Ottar—the only known Level 7 adventurer—but several Level 6s, even more Level 5s, and a swarm of mid-to-low-level members in Levels 4 and below.
But now, Akira had reached Level 4 himself. And with 40% integration of Tarakudo's inheritance, his summoned Ninja Shadowkhan now rivaled Level 3 adventurers.
"This is my first gift to you, Freya," he murmured with icy calm.
"Accept it… graciously."
And then—he vanished into the shadows.
Having established a direct connection to the Shadow Realm, Akira now possessed the ability to enter and exit that dimension freely. As long as there was even a sliver of shadow, he could reappear anywhere.
— — —
Meanwhile, elsewhere—in the heart of Freya Familia's headquarters—several members had gathered.
A large sigil adorned the main tower's front: the golden silhouette of a Valkyrie's side profile, crowned and bejeweled. The emblem radiated majesty and pride—just like its goddess.
"Oi, Ottar. I heard you got your ass handed to you yesterday,"
a mocking voice drawled.
It was Alfrigg Glover, the eldest of the four Glover brothers—all Level 5 adventurers under Freya Familia.
The Glover brothers were well-known throughout Orario. Their four-way formation and flawless coordination allowed them to rival even Level 6s in raw combat potential. They were pillars of the Familia—not disposable foot soldiers.
"…Yeah," Ottar answered plainly. "I underestimated him. But in that moment… his power surpassed mine."
Silence fell like a heavy curtain.
Every person in the room turned to Ottar in disbelief.
Did they hear that right?
Ottar, the living legend. The unshakable wall who once stood against the elites of Zeus and Hera Familia without faltering. The man hailed as the "Formidable One." The only adventurer to ever reach Level 7.
And now, he admitted defeat?
To some unknown nobody?
"You've gotta be joking. The guy's just some lucky Level 1 with a shiny artifact," Alfrigg scoffed.
"No," Ottar replied. "He's clearly not Level 1. But his strength is definitely tied to that artifact."
"So… can we take it from him? Offer it to Lady Freya?"
This time it was Allen Fromel who spoke, arms crossed.
If that artifact had power enough to topple Ottar, then it was more than a mere trinket. It was a weapon.
"It won't work," Ottar said. "The artifact has already chosen him. Unless we kill him, we can't separate the two."
Once again, silence took the room. Even Ottar had asked Freya directly. Her answer had been the same: to remove it, Akira must die. But if he couldn't kill Akira…
"Wait a second," Alfrigg muttered, his brow furrowing.
"You said the artifact's power multiplies over time, right?"
"Yes," Ottar nodded. "But there's a limit. It depends on how much strain the wielder's body can endure. Push too far, and his body will collapse from within."
He recalled the previous day's fight—the way Akira's muscles trembled under the sheer force of his power. The backlash was clear. But even so, his body held out far longer than Ottar had anticipated.
"In that case…" said Grer Glover, the youngest brother, "why don't we just kill him before he can activate the artifact?"
His brothers nodded in agreement.
"Simple."
"Clean."
"Efficient."
The Glover siblings were visibly satisfied with the plan.
Ottar and Allen, however, remained silent, sharing a knowing glance.
Ottar, a warrior to the core, had his pride. Unless ordered directly by Freya herself, he refused to resort to underhanded tactics. It was against everything he stood for.
Allen? He didn't care about honor. What irked him was that someone else had done what he couldn't—defeat Ottar.
He wanted to face Akira head-on, both to avenge his Familia and to prove that he could surpass Ottar with his own hands.
The Glover brothers had a different motive entirely.
To them, Freya was everything. The sun, the stars, their one and only purpose. They loathed anyone who gained her attention—even more so if that person dared to reject her.
Akira was a threat. A heretic.
They wouldn't go against the goddess's orders.
But if she hadn't ordered anything yet…
Then perhaps they could take care of him first.
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