Watching Belle Morwyn flee with her cheeks burning red, Fenric couldn't help but smile faintly.
Then his expression turned thoughtful.
In his possession were still two unused items: the Black Sword Shusui and the Lion Roar Technique.
The black blade wasn't easy to give away. It had been obtained through killing, and while Fenric didn't fear the Armand Family's wrath, wielding a blade that practically screamed "bloodshed" wasn't always appropriate—especially against numerous enemies.
The Lion Roar, however, was different. That could be gifted.
After some thought, a potential recipient came to mind.
But not now.
Glancing at the time, Fenric saw it was already half past two in the morning. The next wave of dungeons was about to open.
He made his way to the base of the Samsara Tower, ready for another run.
As he passed the global master list, Fenric paused. His eyes caught on his ranking.
From sixth—he had risen to fifth.
"…Only one place higher?" He frowned slightly. "So even with self-healing, the improvement is that small?"
Upon reflection, it wasn't so strange.
First, his regeneration ability was only a diluted version—it could never reach Wolverine's level of indestructibility.
Second, self-healing was a passive skill. And the Samsara system generally didn't value passive skills highly.
"It's just a number. Rankings are only for reference. Anyone who takes them seriously is a fool."
Fenric himself was proof. His current ranking didn't reflect his true power. If he unleashed everything at once, his combat strength would surpass even the S-grade threshold.
With that, he used a dungeon refresh card and stepped into the Samsara Tower.
He was transported directly to the sixteenth floor.
The system elf spirit appeared on cue, bowing slightly.
"Honored Samsara Player 'Shura', greetings. How may I serve you?"
"I want to begin the dungeon mission," Fenric replied.
"This dungeon world is a large-scale scenario: Justice League. Do you wish to enter now?"
"Confirm."
"Understood. Please wait a moment."
With a wave of the elf's hand, Fenric was sent into the white preparation room.
To his surprise, twelve others were already there.
The moment Fenric appeared, the entire room stirred.
"Holy—! That mask… it's Shura!"
"No way, he's back already?!"
"Another Super God evaluation? Figures. Normal operation for him."
"I told you Shura would show up for the second wave. You didn't believe me!"
"Stop yapping. Let's just back out and queue for the next one."
In an instant, several Samsaras withdrew, unwilling to share a dungeon with Fenric.
"Boss, they're gone. What about us?"
"Should we leave too?"
"This mission's about forming factions. We won't clash with Shura, right? No way someone like him would care about our little team."
"Don't be stupid. You know how missions can go. If he decides you're in his way, you're finished."
"Let me ask him directly."
One of the Samsaras, a burly man, walked toward Fenric.
"God Shura, hello."
Seeing his respectful manner, Fenric inclined his head. "Hello."
"I don't mean to intrude. Just wanted to ask—do you already have a plan for this mission? Will it conflict with ours?"
Fenric smiled. "I do have a plan. But whether it conflicts with yours… I can't say for certain."
The man frowned, then nodded. "I understand."
He returned to his companions, and after a brief discussion, they too chose to leave.
Soon, the room was empty. Only Fenric remained.
But he was used to this by now. Finding a corner, he sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and waited calmly for the dungeon to open.
—--
Meanwhile, outside Samsara space.
Aurora Morwyn had logged out, returning to the real world.
In her temporary residence, she picked up the phone and dialed a number.
Even though it was late, the line connected almost immediately—as if the other party had been waiting.
"Hello!" An old voice answered on the other end, resonant with a quiet, commanding power.
"Good evening, Elder Armand." Aurora's tone was calm. "I delivered your message. But Shura gave me no clear reply."
Her words, simple though they were, carried heavy weight.
No reply was already an answer. If Shura truly wanted reconciliation, he wouldn't have been so dismissive.
A sigh came through the receiver. Then the old man said, "Vivienne, I've troubled you. Do you have time to visit? Share a simple meal?"
Despite the circumstances, his tone was warm, even inviting. Not a trace of blame toward Aurora—he knew how to play the part of a seasoned elder.
Aurora shook her head slightly. "Elder Armand, I did very little. I'd be embarrassed to come and eat."
"What's embarrassing about that?" Elder Armand chuckled. "I heard from Fifth—half a year ago, when you shared a dungeon, he faced mortal danger. If not for your help, he wouldn't have survived. That was a life-saving grace. I've never properly thanked you."
The "Fifth" he referred to was his fifth son—known in Samsara as One Leaf Knows Autumn.
But Aurora wasn't swayed. She replied evenly, "Elder Armand, that debt has long been repaid. Let's leave it at that. It's late—you should rest."
Though One Leaf Knows Autumn was less than a decade older than Aurora, in Jade Capital's social hierarchy he was still considered a generation above her.
With that, the call ended.
Aurora set the phone aside, but as she turned, she noticed a faint glow from the next room.
Frowning, she walked over silently.
Inside, Yuhan was perched at her desk in cute pajamas, eyes glued to the computer screen. She was so focused on gathering "important information" that she didn't even notice her cousin's presence.
"Yuhan."
Startled, Yuhan nearly jumped out of her seat. She scrambled to shut the laptop, fluster written all over her face.
"S-Sister! Why are you here?"
Vivienne crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Don't bother hiding it. I saw what you were looking up just now. I didn't expect you to start dating so young. Giving a boy a gift on the Seventh Night Festival, of all days?"