High above the night sky of Orario, at the very pinnacle of the giant tower, Babel.
This was the headquarters of the Freya Familia, the point in the entire city closest to the divine realm.
Inside a room of unparalleled opulence, the air was thick with an intoxicating fragrance. The floor was covered with carpets made from the pelts of unknown magical beasts, murals depicting mythological wars adorned the walls, and every piece of furniture was a masterpiece of art.
Freya, the Goddess of Beauty, lay languidly on a broad chaise longue. She was dressed in a gossamer silver gown that traced the breathtaking, perfect curves of her body. Her long silver hair flowed down like moonlight, and her heterochromatic eyes seemed to hold all the mysteries and enchantments of the universe.
Before her floated a massive water mirror, reflecting the street scenes of Orario at night—the bustling crowds and the brilliant lights.
Yet, Freya's face bore a trace of lingering boredom.
She had been watching for far too long.
In her eyes, the souls of these children of the lower world were laid bare. Some were as hot as fire, some as hard as gemstones, and others as gentle as flowing water.
But they were all too monotonous.
Like a vibrant painting devoid of soul, they became tedious after long enough.
"Ottar," she called softly, her voice carrying a natural, seductive charm.
From the shadows of the room, a figure as massive as a mountain stepped forward silently and knelt on one knee.
"Lady Freya," the Boaz's voice was deep and respectful.
"Orario is still so dull today," Freya said, her slender fingers tracing a light path across the water mirror, causing the images to shift. "I can already foresee the entire trajectory of these children's lives just by the colors of their souls."
She sighed, a hint of loneliness flickering in those eyes that could drive any god or mortal to madness.
Until...
Her finger suddenly stopped.
The image in the water mirror froze on a small stall selling deep-fried potato puffs.
In the mirror, a white-haired boy was excitedly saying something to another boy with black hair.
Freya's gaze first fell upon the white-haired boy.
"Oh?"
She sat up slightly, her boredom replaced by a spark of curiosity.
In her vision, the soul of the white-haired boy possessed an unprecedented purity. It was like an uncut crystal—transparent, flawless, emitting a light that was pure and clean. Though it was still weak, the potential contained within that light brought a look of surprise even to her face.
"What a beautiful specimen... with just a bit of polishing, he will surely burst forth with unparalleled brilliance." A smile of appreciation tugged at the corners of Freya's mouth.
This was a pleasant little surprise.
However, when her gaze inadvertently shifted from Bell to the black-haired youth beside him—
The smile on Freya's face froze instantly.
Her mismatched eyes, which had seen countless radiant souls, contracted violently in that moment!
If Bell's soul was a piece of pure crystal, then the soul of the youth named Linn... what was it?
It was a silent, bottomless expanse of gray.
It was like the ashen remains of an entire world burnt to cinders. All colors, all light, all emotions had been incinerated within it, eventually turning into this eternal, dead silence.
Yet, at the core of this silent ash, Freya could feel a spark... a seed of fire more incandescent than the sun.
It was a flicker of madness—a Frenzied Flame capable of dragging even the gods into a sea of fire!
Ash and wildfire; silence and madness.
These two diametrically opposed traits coexisted within a single soul in a way that was utterly contradictory, yet perfectly harmonious.
This soul did not belong to a mortal; it didn't even belong to a god!
It was like the embodiment of Chaos itself, having burned away the old world and now awaiting a new birth!
"Ha..."
A breath escaped Freya's throat—an irrepressible sound, a mix of ecstasy and trembling.
Dull? Tedious?
The moment she saw this soul, the entire world regained its color in her eyes! No, all the colors she had seen before became dull and lifeless when standing before this soul!
"Ottar..."
Her voice was trembling from the sheer peak of her excitement.
"Do you see it?"
Ottar raised his head and followed Freya's gaze. In the mirror, there were only two ordinary youths talking. He could not peer directly into souls as the gods did, but he could sense a strange sense of dissonance coming from the black-haired youth.
Even though the boy was standing right there, his presence was ethereal, as if he might merge into the shadows at any moment, yet he felt like the center of a storm.
"That youth... is very special," Ottar offered his judgment.
"Special?" Freya gazed obsessively at Linn in the water mirror, her tongue flicking out to lightly lick her crimson lips. "No, Ottar, you don't understand at all..."
"He is the One!"
"Go," Freya commanded, her eyes erupting with an unprecedented sense of possessiveness. Her voice, however, remained as soft as a lover's whisper. "Investigate everything about him. His origins, his residence, where he goes every day, who he meets... every single detail, I must know it all."
She paused, then added, "Remember, only observe. Do not startle my little darling. I wouldn't want to scare him before he has fully blossomed."
"Yes, Lady Freya."
Ottar took his leave respectfully, his silhouette merging back into the shadows until he vanished.
Freya was left alone in the room.
She stared greedily at the reflection of Linn's back until he disappeared around a street corner.
When Linn arrived home, Eina had, as expected, not yet returned.
Familiar with the routine, he retrieved the spare key hidden under the porch and opened the door. The house was pitch black, save for the faint glimmer of Orario's lights filtering through the window.
"I'm back."
He spoke the habituated greeting to the empty house, kicked off his shoes, and threw himself onto the living room sofa.
Linn first pulled the Valis he had earned from today's mob-grinding out of the leather pouch at his waist and counted it. The income was quite substantial, enough for him to live comfortably for a good while.
He took a shower, changed into clean casual clothes, and then walked into the guest room assigned to him, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
It was time.
Before his eyes, the familiar Bonfire interface slowly emerged. The warm orange glow dispelled the darkness, and in the background, he could hear the faint, ethereal sound of the wind unique to the Lands Between.
If it weren't for that giant smiling face, Linn might have actually liked this interface.
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Danmachi: My Primary God is Hidetaka Miyazaki? (Simulpub – Ongoing)
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