Chapter 69: The Night the Shadowkhan Killed
Inside a lively tavern in Orario, a seasoned adventurer sat back with a relaxed grin, swirling a mug of ale in one hand while nibbling on light snacks. A heavy pouch full of valis—his reward from today's expedition—hung proudly at his waist.
Around him, other patrons glanced his way with a mix of envy and admiration.
But no one dared to whisper, let alone approach him recklessly.
The reason?
The Familia crest of Freya emblazoned on his armor.
Freya Familia was a dominant force in Orario—arguably the strongest.
Only fools picked fights with them. And even the most cunning schemers would think twice before laying a trap for one of Freya's own… unless they were absolutely certain of success.
Otherwise, offending Freya Familia meant one thing: destruction.
"Not bad at all," the man muttered to himself, sipping his drink contentedly. "If things keep going like this, I might reach Level 3 in just a couple more weeks. And when that happens… I'll get to see Lady Freya again."
His eyes lit up with adoration and burning anticipation.
Like many who joined her Familia, his heart belonged entirely to the goddess of desire.
In Freya Familia, each man was granted a single, unforgettable night with the goddess herself.
One night. No repeats.
After that, she'd usually lose interest and seek another radiant "soul" to chase.
But that one night was enough. Enough to bind their hearts and souls to her completely.
They'd be hers—body and mind—for life.
Even the women in her Familia weren't spared from this divine influence.
Such was the overwhelming charm of Freya, Goddess of Beauty and Desire.
To Freya, anything radiant, rare, or dazzling became something to pursue… and possess.
Her "love" was not soft or gentle—it was intense, consuming.
That was the nature of her divinity.
Though the Familia was large, direct audiences with Freya were rare.
Only those who achieved great merit or leveled up stood a chance of being summoned.
Falna updates were limited—just a few slots each month. And naturally, those who brought greater wealth or prestige to the Familia were prioritized.
In that way, Freya Familia—despite its size—functioned with frightening efficiency and unity.
Their bond?
Obsession.
This man had been stuck at Level 2 for three years. But just a month ago, he had updated his Falna, and now he was convinced—just a bit more effort, and Level 3 was within reach.
He never noticed the danger creeping up behind him.
In the shadows beside the booth where he sat, just along the edge of the tavern wall, something shifted.
Something… unnatural.
A faint ripple in the darkness.
Two glowing red eyes slowly opened from within the shadow.
A ghostly blue-white hand emerged next—gripping a short, gleaming dagger.
No sound. No warning.
Only death.
The blade slit across his throat in one swift motion.
Blood gushed from the deep cut, spilling over his collar, soaking the floor, and turning his final breath into a sputtering, wet cough. He choked, struggling to scream, but all that came out was red foam.
He collapsed onto the table—silent, lifeless.
"W-What the hell?!"
"Who did that?! Who dares kill someone here?!"
"His neck… it's completely slashed!"
"He's gone—no saving that!"
"Someone call the Ganesha Familia, now!"
Chaos exploded in the tavern. Screams. Panic.
People rushed for the exit. Others ducked under tables. Some froze in place.
Because this wasn't just any random murder.
This was the cold-blooded assassination of a Freya Familia adventurer.
In public. In broad daylight.
And everyone knew—messing with Freya Familia was suicide.
They protected their own with ruthless aggression.
No matter who you were, crossing them meant being crushed beneath their heel.
In this world, one truth always held firm:
The strong ruled the weak.
And no one ruled Orario more than Freya.
But this wasn't an isolated incident.
Throughout the city, similar killings were unfolding.
In the dark alleys of the slums.
In abandoned warehouses.
Even within the Dungeon itself.
Freya Familia members were being hunted.
Silently. Methodically.
In the Dungeon, the danger was even greater. Most parties operated in scattered formations—making lone members easy prey. When someone went missing down there, monsters would usually devour the remains long before anyone noticed.
No witnesses.
No evidence.
No problems.
— — —
In a narrow backstreet deep within Orario, a single figure moved through the shadows like a ghost.
Akira.
With one sharp twist of his hands, he snapped the neck of another Level 3 adventurer—yet another member of Freya Familia.
He wasn't relying solely on his Ninja Shadowkhan.
No—this was personal.
He wouldn't leave all the satisfaction to his minions.
For every target eliminated without discovery, their body would vanish—pulled into the Shadow Realm, the dark dimension where Akira held dominion.
There, the corpses were fed to the monsters lurking within.
Yes—monsters.
Not just the Shadowkhan warriors, but true, primal shadow beasts that weren't created by Tarakudo. These ancient predators had emerged naturally from the depths of the darkness, lurking in the corners of that cursed world.
Akira stood over the body, cold and composed, his figure blending into the alley's gloom.
"So then, Freya," he murmured. "Let's see what you'll do now."
His voice held a quiet challenge.
Would she retaliate publicly?
Or would she swallow her pride and pretend nothing was happening?
This was a test.
A massacre like this would shake Orario to its core.
Years ago, when Evilus ran rampant, the entire city suffered. Countless Familia were destroyed. Wounds from that era hadn't fully healed.
Now—something similar was beginning again.
Akira wanted to see it unfold.
Would Freya report the deaths and seek revenge?
Or would she keep it quiet, choosing not to reveal her failure?
Either way…
He was ready.
If she came at him directly—fine. He wouldn't flinch.
His power didn't rely solely on Falna, but on the Inheritance Template that flowed through him.
And if she remained silent…
Then it meant one thing:
She had surrendered.
And the chaos he'd begun could spread freely—unchecked.
Akira smiled faintly as he melted into the shadows once more.
He wasn't done yet.
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