The night in Orario was sometimes clearer to the gods than the day.
Inside a lavish room at the top of the Freya Familia's headquarters, the air was thick with an intoxicating fragrance. Freya, the Goddess of Beauty, reclined on a soft chaise longue, her silver hair flowing across the floor like moonlight. Resting her chin on one hand, she listened with keen interest to the report of the man kneeling before her.
"...He entered the 17th floor alongside Ais Wallenstein, Tione Hiryute, Tiona Hiryute, and Lefiya Viridis of the Loki Familia. According to our informants, they disappeared for approximately five hours before reappearing."
Ottar's voice was low and steady, devoid of emotion, as if he were simply stating the weight of a stone.
"Disappeared?"
Freya tapped her cheek lightly with a fingertip, a playful glint dancing in her silver-violet eyes. "Since when did Loki's children learn such games of hide-and-seek?"
"The specifics are unknown. However, after they emerged, everyone's aura had undergone a subtle change. Especially Ais Wallenstein—her sword intent seems significantly more refined," Ottar continued.
The smile on Freya's lips deepened.
"Loki... that flat-chested brat certainly moves fast." Freya's voice was languid, yet it carried an underlying tone of non-negotiable possessiveness. "I've only just discovered an interesting new toy, and already she's reaching out to touch it. She truly has no manners."
She slowly sat upright, and the light in the room seemed to brighten with her movement. In those eyes that could see the very essence of a soul, a flicker of something resembling a sense of crisis appeared for the first time. A soul she had set her eyes on belonged to her. Until she personally uplifted it—or crushed it—no one else was allowed to touch it.
"Ottar."
"Yes."
"Go." Freya stood up, her bare feet pressing against the cool floor as she walked toward the massive floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Labyrinth City. "Go and invite him. Tell him the Freya Familia welcomes him, and that I can give him everything he could possibly need in Orario."
Her voice was saturated with absolute confidence.
"As you command, Lady Freya."
Ottar's silhouette melted silently into the shadows.
The next morning, Lynn woke up refreshed and gave a long stretch, his joints popping like a string of firecrackers. Last night's reunion with Ranni had swept away the lingering loneliness he'd felt since his arrival, leaving him energized and driven.
The cold weight of the calling bell and the ashen slab engraved with three wolves in his hand made his palms itch with anticipation.
"Three wolves... brothers, it's been a long time." He tossed the ashen slab in his hand, a nostalgic smile appearing on his face.
Eina had rushed off to the Guild early, mentioning she had important documents to process. She seemed to have been exceptionally busy lately.
He ate a quick meal, slung the Bloodhound's Fang over his back, checked the item pouch at his waist, and headed out enthusiastically. Target: the Dungeon!
Orario was as bustling as ever. Adventurers swarmed toward the Tower of Babel in small groups, the rhythmic clink-clank of blacksmith hammers rang out, and the scent of food mingled with the smell of sweat and earth. It was a scene of vibrant life and competitive spirit.
However, just as he was about to step into the wide plaza before Babel, his footsteps faltered. A figure blocked his path. It was a man so colossally built he looked like an unshakable mountain just by standing there.
He wore simple brown combat gear, his skin was dark, and his short, boar-like hair stood up in stiff bristles. His eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool, but beneath that stillness lay a terrifying power capable of swallowing everything whole.
The noisy crowd around them seemed to be pushed back by an invisible wall, creating a vacuum around the man. Adventurers—both seasoned veterans and green rookies—unconsciously veered away from him, their faces masks of awe and fear.
This guy is strong. And he's here for me. Lynn narrowed his eyes, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. Is he looking for trouble? Doesn't look like it. No killing intent.
"Can I help you?" Lynn spoke first.
Ottar's gaze fell upon Lynn. In those eyes, which were usually as still as ancient stone, a tiny flicker of scrutiny passed.
"Lynn." He spoke, his voice carrying a heavy pressure that matched his physique. "Lady Freya invites you to join the Freya Familia."
His words were blunt and direct. Lynn blinked, momentarily stunned. The Freya Familia? I think I saw them in the records... one of the pinnacles of Orario?
He tilted his head, looking Ottar up and down. "Why me?"
"Because Lady Freya has taken a liking to you. That is enough."
Lynn thought back; he didn't recall ever meeting a goddess named Freya. "What do I get for joining?"
Ottar seemingly hadn't expected such a question. He remained silent for a moment before answering, word for word: "Wealth. Fame. Power. Everything you desire."
"Sounds nice." Lynn nodded, then his expression shifted into a lazy smile. "But I refuse."
Refuse? He refused? He refused a personal invitation from Ottar the Warlord on behalf of Lady Freya?!
A ripple of emotion finally appeared on Ottar's stone-like face. He looked at Lynn, seemingly wanting to confirm he hadn't misheard.
"Why?" he managed to grunt out.
"Not interested," Lynn shrugged, answering crisply. "Even though I don't have a Familia, I already serve a deity of my own. I won't be joining any others."
His own deity? Ottar's brow furrowed. He clearly couldn't comprehend what kind of god would exist without founding a Familia.
But Lynn didn't want to waste any more time. He stepped to the side and walked past Ottar. From start to finish, his pace didn't falter for a second.
Ottar didn't move. He simply stood there, watching Lynn's back disappear into the entrance of Babel. After a long while, he finally turned, blended into the crowd, and vanished.
When Freya heard Ottar's report, far from being angry, she let out a peal of silvery laughter.
"...Not interested? And has his own god?" She paced the room gracefully in her bare feet, her silver-violet eyes shining with an intensity as if she had discovered a new continent. "Such a thing exists?"
Loki had been rejected by him. Now, even her own invitation had been flatly turned down. Instead of bruising her pride, this revelation sent her heart—the heart that pursued ultimate beauty—racing at an unprecedented speed.
He was a pristine, unpolished gemstone containing an entire starry sky within! His soul was brighter, more independent, and prouder than she had ever imagined.
"It seems the status of a god and the glory of a Familia cannot move him." Freya stopped in her tracks, a look of absolute determination in her eyes. "In that case, I'll have to use the most primitive and effective method."
"Lady Freya, are you planning to..."
"Shhh." Freya placed a slender white finger against her lips. "Even a goddess gets bored of life in the heavens occasionally and wants to experience the daily life of a mortal, don't you think?"
────────────────────────────────────────
Support me here: https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
Spring Sale Special – 20% OFF!
Danmachi: My Primary God is Hidetaka Miyazaki? (Simulpub – Ongoing)
Join the journey and become part of the story!
────────────────────────────────────────