At the familia headquarters—on the top floor, inside the divine chamber.
After finishing dinner, Qianshuo was promptly "captured" by Hedin and brought here. The reason was simple: Lady Freya wanted to see him, and before he entered the Dungeon, she intended to update his Falna one more time.
When Hedin explained it, even he couldn't quite hide a trace of feeling in his words.
After all, he had never seen the goddess take such personal interest in a child. It was safe to say Qianshuo had become something special to Freya.
"An update already? It's only been a week…" Qianshuo murmured in surprise.
He had originally planned to request an update after completing at least one real Dungeon expedition. But it seemed Freya was… somehow even more eager than he was.
"Just follow the goddess's arrangements," Hedin said coolly.
That snapped Qianshuo out of his questioning.
He was right. No matter how confused he felt, if it was Freya's will, then he would do as instructed. She had no reason to harm him.
When a maid opened the door, Qianshuo walked in with practiced ease—he had been here once before.
Freya was lounging on a reclined chair in a black, sheer nightgown, a book in her hand. The moment she noticed him, she closed the book and tucked it beneath a cushion as if hiding it. Then, almost unconsciously, she combed her long silver hair through her fingers two or three times.
When she looked at the clean, pale-faced boy, a delighted smile softened her cheeks.
Qianshuo stood in the doorway.
Moonlight traced a silver outline along his silhouette. His black eyes were so clear, so untouched, as if the world had never managed to stain them.
Freya rose, walked over, and took his hand—then guided him to a chair with armrests and sat him down. She returned to her recliner, with a small, single-legged round table between them.
She studied him carefully, savoring the sight of Qianshuo after days apart. Her silver eyes shimmered with light.
Qianshuo, under that gaze, felt slightly uncomfortable. He didn't know what to say—until he remembered why he had come.
"Lady Freya, are we updating my Falna? I'm ready."
He sat upright and spoke formally, meeting her silver eyes without wavering.
In front of a goddess, there must be no improper behavior—that was what Hedin and Heith had drilled into him.
"Mmm. Why are you in such a hurry?" Freya pouted like a girl, her voice tinged with a faint, wounded grievance. "Can't you stay with me for a while? Little Qianshuo… don't you want to be with me?"
The tone was so far from the lofty image of Freya the goddess that Qianshuo froze, momentarily stunned.
"I… it's not that," he said, flustered. "I just… didn't know what to talk about with you, Lady Freya."
He truly hadn't expected there to be a "chat" portion at all.
And if the rest of the Freya Familia knew he was receiving this honor, their eyes alone might kill him.
Not wanting to stay with Lady Freya? Then you should die as penance.
"How have you been lately?" Freya asked gently. "You don't look well. Has Hedin's 'training baptism' been too harsh?"
Her voice was full of warmth and concern.
These past days, she had watched through the floor-to-ceiling window—Qianshuo's relentless practice in the battle wilds, and Hedin's grinding, uncompromising tempering.
"Life's… been good," Qianshuo said after a brief pause. "Heith-jie's cooking is really delicious."
He didn't dodge the question.
"Master's training really is exhausting."
He lowered his gaze to his hands—calluses split, faint traces of blood still lingering in the lines of his palms.
"Sometimes I'm so tired that…" He hesitated. "That when I lie down, I don't want to get back up."
"But."
He lifted his head again. His eyes didn't flinch as he looked directly at Freya.
"I promised you I would become the greatest swordsman in the world."
His voice wasn't loud, and he wasn't speaking with dramatic fervor—but inside those black eyes was something quiet and absolute.
As if he were stating a fact already written into the future.
"So I won't stop."
"If I say I'll do it, then I'll do it. Since I made that promise to you, Lady Freya, I can't quit halfway."
He held her gaze. His eyes were pure sincerity, without the slightest impurity—yet to Freya, they shone like radiant light.
Her lips curved into a soft, bewitching smile. Her eyes brimmed with tenderness.
Just as I thought… a child worthy of my choice.
In that divine chamber—bathed in pale blue moonlight, dreamlike in its beauty—Qianshuo and Freya spoke as though merely sharing idle conversation.
"Will you tell me about your past?" Freya asked, blinking with playful curiosity. "Qianshuo… tell me about what happened on your travels across the continent."
Qianshuo was startled at first, but when he saw the expectation in her eyes, he began to speak—carefully recounting what had happened after he left the Far East.
After burying the old hunter, he set off on his journey. Along the way, his experiences were, in truth, quite rich.
He had wandered the world with a sword at his side, acting with chivalry when he could. He had drawn his blade to help when he encountered injustice.
But it was always based on circumstances. If the other side had overwhelming numbers and terrifying strength, then stepping in would be no different from throwing his life away.
Qianshuo admitted that plainly.
He wasn't a hero.
In a world like this, simply preserving yourself was already difficult. When it came to helping others, you should do what you can—so long as you could live with yourself afterward.
His answers were honest. He wasn't trying to make himself look noble. He openly revealed the selfish side of human nature.
No one is perfect.
Freya understood that. More than that, she admired Qianshuo's steadiness and sincerity.
That curiosity back then was the right choice… otherwise, I never would have found a child this lovable.
Qianshuo spoke softly of his travels, and Freya listened closely—listening to the road he had walked, the steps he had taken to reach this place.
It let her understand him more deeply, peel back his heart more precisely—and, slowly…
shape him.
Yes, she had "raised" Ottar with her own hands—but his purpose had been different from the beginning. Ottar was interesting, and he belonged wholly to himself.
Freya had seen far too many people: those who went mad for her, those who died for her, those who burned their souls to ash for the sake of a single glance from her.
Too many.
So many that she had grown tired of those blazing, hollow flames.
Qianshuo was different.
The light he carried made Freya certain: this was her future partner—her Odr.
And since she had chosen him, she would naturally cultivate him properly—until he fit the perfect partner she envisioned.
If you're raising a husband, start young.
That was something she had read in a "forbidden novel" after descending to the lower world.
And now, at last, it had become useful.
The night was quiet, and time passed quickly. Qianshuo finished telling his stories.
Freya smiled in satisfaction, hiding her private amusement.
Perhaps because she had been sitting too long, she stretched lazily—and her clothing slipped just slightly, revealing warm, pale skin flushed with heat.
In the next instant, Qianshuo's cheeks reddened. He immediately looked away.
The neckline of her sheer nightgown had opened a little—just enough for a hint of white to appear and vanish.
His shy, innocent reaction made Freya chuckle softly. Then she stood.
"Alright. Now we'll update your status."
Still smiling, Freya stepped up to Qianshuo.
She removed his outer garment and began updating his Falna.
As a drop of divine blood fell, the blessing of the gods renewed itself.
Adventurer: Qianshuo
Level: 1
Strength: I0 – H198
Endurance: I0 – G216
Dexterity: I0 – H197
Agility: I0 – G203
Magic: I0 – H102
A single week of training had yielded remarkable results—enough to give Qianshuo the qualifications to enter the Dungeon.
Bloom with your brilliance, child. Tell this world that this era belongs to you.
Prove to everyone that the future is yours—until all people remember the name of the world's greatest swordsman.
-------
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