Inside the Folkvangr, the air itself seemed frozen.
No one dared move. Even breathing too heavily felt like a sin.
Ryota hadn't released any killing intent, nor had he prepared any technique—but just the slow, hypnotic rotation of his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan was enough to drag every soul in the room, inch by inch, into an abyss.
Hedin, Hogni, and the other Freya Familia members stood pale-faced.
Even Ottar, Level 7, had his pupils contracting involuntarily.
According to their memories, Ryota was their hero—the one who led Freya to victory in the War Game.
But now, this so-called "hero" stood before them as something far more terrifying. A calamity.
And clearly, this wasn't some feeling instilled by Freya's charm.
No, this was the lingering echo etched into their souls from the real War Game.
Their memories might have been scrambled, but their bodies still remembered—those earth-shattering attacks, those soul-crushing techniques—buried deep in muscle memory.
They didn't even understand why they were afraid.
But their bodies knew.
Not a single person dared make a sound.
Then—Freya's voice shattered the heavy silence.
"Ryota, I had Ottar call you back to update your Status."
"But if you're not interested for now, that's fine."
Ryota remained where he stood, looking at that ever-smiling, flawless face.
Freya's expression remained serene—gentle, poised—but it made Ryota frown slightly.
This crazy woman was up to something again.
Those lust-filled gray eyes were hiding far too much.
Sure enough—
Her tone shifted.
"There's something else."
"Allen can no longer serve as the vice-captain of Freya Familia."
"So, I'd like you to take his place."
The moment she finished speaking, the Folkvangr was plunged into another deathly silence.
Ryota was stunned for a moment.
But not nearly as shocked as everyone else in the room.
"...Vice-captain?"
"This has to be a joke..."
"He's only Level 4…"
"Sure, he won the War Game, but still…"
Hogni's mouth was open in disbelief, Hedin's brow furrowed into a knot, and even Ottar remained silent, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.
This wasn't just any promotion.
Freya Familia was the top Familia in Orario.
The vice-captain was second only to Ottar in status—a symbol of the Familia itself.
And now she wanted to hand that role to a Level 4 kid who half of them weren't even sure actually belonged to their Familia?
This wasn't a promotion.
It was heresy.
Ryota stared at Freya for a long time. The Eternal Mangekyō spun slowly in his eyes.
Finally, he said in a low voice:
"I refuse."
two simple words—but they hit like thunder, shaking everyone to their core.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Everyone glanced at one another in disbelief, as if the phrase "I refuse" had short-circuited their brains.
Even Freya's eternal smile froze for a split second.
That always-calm, always-indulgent expression faltered for the first time.
Around her, Hogni, Hedin, and Heith looked like they'd just heard the gods curse.
Their faces cycled through shock, confusion, disbelief... until finally landing on absolute incredulity.
—Refusing a Status update?
—Refusing to become the vice-captain of Freya Familia??
Either one of those things could start a citywide scandal in Orario.
There were people who'd give everything just to become an affiliate of Freya Familia.
Countless Familia members toiled day and night in the Dungeon for even the slimmest chance of having their Status updated by her hand.
And now this black-haired boy had refused her—twice—in the span of two minutes.
And he'd done it in front of her. In front of all of them.
Ryota withdrew his gaze. The Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan slowly calmed in his eyes.
"If that's all, I'm leaving."
And with that, he turned and walked toward the front doors of the Folkvangr.
The most sacred hall in Orario—in his eyes, it was filth.
He reached the threshold, paused, then added over his shoulder:
"Don't send anyone after me again."
"I'm sick of this crap."
His words were spoken lightly, but they sent another jolt through the room.
Blatant rejection.
A clear sign that Ryota had no regard whatsoever for the so-called "honor" of being in the top Familia.
This return had only one purpose—for him to make himself clear.
Otherwise, Ottar would just keep blocking the forge gates of Hephaestus Familia like he had today, planted like a tree.
Annoying as hell.
Ryota didn't bother explaining anything else. He stepped through the doors and vanished into the night.
No one moved.
Not Hedin, not Hogni, not Heith—not even Ottar.
They all stood there as if watching a dream dissolve.
A Level 4 rookie had just rejected Freya twice.
Publicly.
And then warned them not to bother him again.
But the most insane part?
No one chased after him.
No one even dared to chase him.
Only Freya—her gaze fixed on the direction he'd disappeared—smiled wider and wider.
"...You really are the one I've set my eyes on."
A long while passed.
Freya finally turned away and sank into the couch in the center of the hall.
One elbow resting on the armrest, head slightly tilted, eyes never straying from the door.
As if the warmth of Ryota's presence still lingered in the space beyond it.
She stared, saying nothing.
Thinking.
Or rather... puzzled.
Had that boy... truly been affected by her charm?
No. Something didn't add up. None of it made sense.
Freya knew better than anyone how absurdly potent her charm was. It wasn't simple seduction or manipulation—it was a projection of divine nature itself.
In this world, aside from the three gods still keeping their chastity vows, there wasn't a single god or race that could remain unaffected by her charm.
Even Ouranos, Orario's founding god, couldn't resist if she got close enough.
But Ryota?
First, he avoided her altogether while staying at Hephaestus Familia.
Then, he outright rejected her in the Folkvangr.
Then, to top it all off, he said, "Don't bother me again," and walked away without a backward glance.
That wasn't something someone under her spell would ever do.
Freya frowned.
"Could it be... he was never charmed at all?"
"But how is that possible?"
"Was it Hestia?"
But she quickly shook her head, discarding that idea.
That little blue-ribbon goddess was probably still in her basement, spacing out after selling fried potato balls.
"Even if he's originally from Loki Familia, there's no reason he'd be this resistant to me..."
"Then why?"
She thought hard, lost in a spiral of questions. At last, she came back to herself and spoke:
"Ottar."
"Keep an eye on Ryota."
"But don't be too obvious about it."
Ottar, who had silently stood beside her the entire time, paused—then slowly nodded.
Freya's flawless face still wore its usual soft smile.
But beneath that smile, something had already begun to stir.
A dangerous, wordless obsession.
The kind of craving only a god feels toward a prey they cannot control.
The kind of mystery that makes you fall deeper the longer you stare into it.
——
Meanwhile, across town—
Ryota walked through the shadowed streets of Orario, completely unaware that his "I refuse" had just flipped the Folkvangr upside down.
Or rather, even if he had known, he wouldn't have cared.
So Freya was starting to get suspicious?
That was expected.
If she'd truly been fooled by his "acting," that would've been far too easy.
But it was fine.
Ryota's lips curled slightly, his eyes clear and calm.
"She can be suspicious all she wants."
"But she won't figure out what I'm really after."
And in the next instant—
[Ding—Fusion Progress +2%]
[Current Fusion Progress: 22%]
The familiar mechanical chime rang in his ears.
Ryota paused in his step. The smile at the corner of his lips deepened.
"Looks like... refusing the vice-captain role also counts toward fusion progress."
He rolled his wrist experimentally, sensing that his Chakra and Rinnegan were more fluid and synchronized than ever before.
That overwhelming power was growing—rapidly.
This was a battle.
Not with Freya, but with the very perception of Orario itself.
Freya was charming the city's collective consensus.
And Ryota? He would reshape that reality with the power of the Rinnegan.
So—
"Let's see who wins, you crazy woman."
"One more step closer to the world of dreams."
Ryota was just about to use Flying Raijin to return to his temporary base at Hephaestus Familia when—
A subtle ripple in space trembled from the shadows ahead.
The next second—
From the far end of the street, a figure cloaked in black emerged.
It wasn't a person—it was like a fragment of the night itself stitched into shape.
But Ryota recognized him instantly.
Those eyes.
—Violet, deep, as if they could see through all things.
"...Fels."
Ryota murmured the name.
The elusive man before him was one of the most special members of the Guild's inner circle.
Ouranos's right-hand man—or perhaps more accurately, his personal mercenary.
He was the one who took the Mystery Development Ability to its absolute peak.
Fels raised his head slowly. Under the hood, those glowing eyes locked on Ryota.
"Ryota, Ouranos wants to see you."
"...Now."
Ryota didn't respond right away.
He narrowed his eyes, sizing the man up.
Ouranos wants to see me? Could it be about Freya's charm engulfing the city?
But that didn't sound right. In the original timeline, Ouranos couldn't care less about that kind of nonsense.
His entire purpose—his reason for still existing—was to monitor and suppress the Dungeon.
Then could it be...
Ryota's eyes narrowed slightly as a thought flickered across his mind.
"The Dungeon... is acting up?"
His memory jumped back to that recent expedition.
That battle with the Valgang Dragon had been... excessive, to say the least.
He hadn't just sliced that thing from skull to tailbone—he'd also dragged the entire Loki Familia party from the 52nd Floor all the way down to the 58th.
That wasn't "collateral damage."
That was full-blown tectonic destruction.
And the Dungeon... was alive. It was a living being.
Ryota glanced sideways at Fels.
"Is it angry?"
He silently wondered to himself.
Or had a mutation occurred?
A dozen chaotic thoughts surged through his mind.
At last, he gave a slight nod.
"Alright. Lead the way."
----
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