[9] Crazies

(Freya POV – Tower of Babel)

I waited.

Perched high above the streets of Orario, my gaze swept across the sprawling city below. The morning light reflecting across my hair as I stood beside the massive pane of glass, eyes fixed on the flow of people.

Then... I found it.

That brilliant flicker of colour... A colour that doesn't exist, but burns in my vision all the same.

'A soul, like no other.'

My lips curled into a graceful smile. "It's time."

"Ottar." I say, my voice smooth and commanding. He steps forward silently, towering and stoic as always. "We're going down." I say, and make my way out.

Without a word, he follows. The others fall into step behind us. Nine of my finest children. They're loyal, powerful, and utterly devoted.

And yet...

'They're only devoted because of my beauty.'

Their loyalty is tainted. I see it in their eyes—the same infatuation, worship, and obsession I've seen for centuries. They each desire to have me... but that's not pure love.

Only Ottar stands apart. His devotion is pure. Closer to familiar love and respect... but that's not the love I seek.

We descend Babel's spiraling corridors, and when we reach the first floor, my presence immediately draws attention.

"L-Lady Freya...!"

"It's Freya-sama!"

Gasps ripple through the crowd like a breeze through tall grass. Excitement, reverence, and overwhelming desire crash together in waves of chaotic adoration.

My children react quickly, forming a protective perimeter without me needing to speak, preventing the masses from stepping closer.

I don't care about any of them, my attention solely focused on one entrance.

'

He should be coming from that side.'

And soon...

I see him.

'Riven Alaric.'

His soul stands out amongst the souls of the masses here. It shines brighter than any other in a shade that's impossible to ignore.

My chest tightens unexpectedly. I watch his expression carefully as he spots me. Shock decorates his face, but there's no awe. No adoration.

And even that disappears too quickly, as his face settles into one of practiced calm.

'That's not right.'

I read his soul to understand his true feeling.

Shock. Confusion. Disappointment. And then... caution?

'There's no lust, desire, or adoration? How is that possible?' I wonder.

But souls don't lie, and...

'He's trying to leave.'

He flees into the crowd like a mortal trying to escape fate, not realizing he only makes himself more alluring.

My pulse races.

'Why? Why is he unaffected?'

Centuries of divine poise keep my face calm, but my thoughts spin wildly.

He should be staring. He should be falling for me...

'He should already belong to me.'

My curiosity twists into fascination, and then, I consider a possibility I hadn't thought possible.

'Could it be?'

I activate my charm, carefully directing it at him alone. No mortal skills be able to resist for even a moment. Even gods would be helpless.

And yet... his soul shows no change.

Nothing.

'He's immune to my charm...'

I watch him continue to walk, unaware of what he's doing to me.

I stare at him harder, and at some point, I had started holding my breath.

'Could he be... my Odr?'

That word echoes in my mind like a forbidden prayer. The one soul fated to love me not because of my beauty, but in spite of it, simply for who I am, even without it.

It terrifies me.

It thrills me.

It angers me.

He's not strong. Not yet. He hasn't earned my love. But that doesn't matter, because I see more than the child he currently is, but the one he could become.

'He's trying so hard to avoid me.' I see it clearly. The careful steps, the sidelong glances. He thinks he's being stealthy.

'It's adorable... like a skittish kitten.'

Then he makes the mistake of looking back.

And our eyes meet, only for single second, but to me, it is everything.

And I smile.

I don't mean to. It just happened. A pure, genuine smile caused by his cute reactions.

He stiffens. His soul pulses with alarm, and quickens his pace, vanishing into the crowd.

And just like that, he's gone.

'Gone...?'

A laugh bubbles up in my throat, a soft involuntary chuckle.

'He ran away from me.'

Not out of hatred.

But fear.

'He's adorable.'

I exhale slowly, controlling my features once again. The crowd still watches me—begging for attention they'll never receive.

But I don't care.

I focus on the warmth blooming within my chest. A warmth that doesn't fade. If anything, it spreads deeper, swelling in my chest.

'What... is this?'

It's something sweet, and strange.

Desire, yes. Possessiveness, of course. But there's something new.

Curiosity. Longing. Hope... Love?

'Ahhh~' I sigh, lips curling in amusement as I let the warmth envelop my heart. 'He's so cute when he runs...'

A light giggle escapes me before I can stop it.

People blink in surprise at my outburst.

But the only one I want to notice me is already gone.

'Not yet... but soon, he'll be mine.'

For now, I'll be patient. I'll watch, and I'll wait.

'He's too weak for me to approach him as I am.'

But Syr can. Syr can touch him. Syr can learn his voice, his smile, his secrets.

Just until he's strong enough to stand beside a goddess.

Just until he's ready... for me.

And I'll make sure he grows strong.

I smile once more.

"Ottar." I say casually, turning away from the crowd, and back towards the 50th Floor of Babel, as I've already accomplished more than I set out for.

He follows silently, not questioning my choice.

'So... my little Riven. Let's see how quickly I can make you bloom.'

(Riven POV – Dungeon, 5F)

I exhale as I slow to a stop on the fifth floor, my boots scraping faintly against the dungeon stone.

'Great Sage, am I being followed?'

[Answer: There is no indication of pursuit.]

I nod slowly, letting the tension bleed from my shoulders.

'If Freya's targeting me... there's not much I can do about it.' I sigh. 'If it's inevitable, then there's no point wasting energy worrying.'

I cast a glance around.

The layout hasn't changed much from the previous floors. Tight corridors, uneven ceilings—but the color's shifted to a dull, rusty brown.

This is where things start getting serious.

War Shadows, Killer Ants and other monsters spawn from here on, and the spawn rate is faster too.

A small grin creeps onto my face as I draw my knife and pull my leather chest piece from Stomach, equipping both in one smooth motion.

[Notice: Analysis of ordinary potion and magic potion complete.]

'Perfect timing. Great Sage, can you highlight any materials—herbs, ores, anything worth collecting?'

[Answer: A scanning overlay has been initiated.]

'Good. No sense wasting time or money if I can gather what I need on the way.'

I move forward at a steady pace, my body ready for any sudden attack. Less than a minute passes before the wall ahead explodes outward.

Reflex kicks in. I spring back in a fluid motion—easily faster than anything I could manage yesterday—as three elongated claws tear through the air where my torso had just been.

I land with a light skid, eyes narrowing.

"Meeting a War Shadow right away?" I muse aloud.

The War Shadow emerges from the rubble, its obsidian-black body slinking forward on unnaturally long limbs. It stands upright, humanoid in shape, but where a face should be is only a glowing crystal embedded in its head.

It slashes downward at my skull, but...

'It's too slow.'

I slip under the arc of its strike and slam my knife up through the crystal in one smooth motion. The blade pierces with a satisfying crunch, and the monster goes limp.

'I expected more.'

I use Predator, watching as its body disintegrates into smoke, its magic stone and a Finger Blade dropping into Stomach alongside a small quantity of Exelia.

I frown.

'That's less than I got from the goblins.'

[Answer: Due to your current strength, the threat posed by War Shadows is less than when you fought the goblins. Exelia yield is proportional to combat difficulty.]

I click my tongue. 'So it's not about how strong the monster is, but how hard the fight is.'

That rules out the lazy idea of scavenging strong monsters others killed.

I press forward through the corridor, descending deeper. Every few minutes I run into more monsters—mostly War Shadows and Frog Shooters. None of them last more than a few seconds.

After about ten minutes, I step into a wider chamber, and a tongue shoots at my face.

Without thinking, I pivot, slicing the projectile clean off with a flick of my wrist. A Frog Shooter stares at me in wide-eyed panic before I dart forward, leap, and drive my blade into its singular eye. It gives a wet squelch and collapses.

I pull the knife free, barely even winded.

'These floors are meant for adventurers with stats around G... maybe F-rank. And I'm way past that.'

I sigh, not with relief, but disappointment.

'This is getting dull.'

I descend another floor. The 6th. The temperature drops a little, and I hear the skittering of legs before I see them—long, chitinous limbs moving in unison.

Killer Ants.

They're big—half a meter tall, one and a half long—and fast. Their carapaces gleam in the low light, as their mandibles clack together threateningly.

But I'm faster.

I dart forward and leap into the air, bringing my knife down like a hammer through the head of the first ant. It hits the ground with a crunch, its legs twitching, as it dies instantly.

While the ants aren't dangerous on their own, if you don't kill them, they release a pheromone on the verge of death that attracts other ants.

I use Predator on it and gain one more magic stone, and some Exelia. Killer Ants and Frog Shooters don't have any drops.

The second ant doesn't even get that far. It tries to flank me, but I kick it in the side hard enough to flip it, then stab down and end it.

I glance at my blade, that's already chipped.

'Already? I've just fixed it before this.' I sigh, pulling it into Stomach and repairing it.

'Maybe I should just start using my hands.' I tighten my fists, half-joking, half-not. 'At the very least... It'd be more fun.'

The idea starts to seem more appealing the longer I think about it.

On a positive note, Great Sage managed to identify a few materials. I've found a few of the herbs I need for the potions I got from Naaza. It's not a lot, but it's better than nothing. I haven't found any ores, though.

Another sigh escapes me as I head toward the stairs leading to the seventh floor.

I step onto the seventh floor and immediately realize—

'I might've gotten a little cocky.'

A wry grin pulls at my lips as I tighten my grip around the twitching neck of a half-dead Killer Ant. thick and sticky blood runs down my fingers. I squeeze, crushing its throat with a sickening crunch before activating Predator. Its body disintegrates, absorbed in a swirl of black mist.

But I don't have time to enjoy the moment.

The ground trembles slightly beneath my feet, faintly at first, then growing stronger, signalling the approaching stampede. I glance up and spot them.

A swarm.

Dozens of Killer Ants pour from the tunnel ahead, crawling across the floor, the walls, even the ceiling, moving as a single, coordinated mass.

'Definitely more than I expected.' But I still grin.

My heart races—not with fear, but excitement. The kind that makes your chest hurt, forces your senses awake, and makes you feel alive... only because you're close to dying.

"Great Sage," I say calmly, eyes tracking the skittering horde. "How many?"

[Answer: 41... 46 confirmed targets. Additional enemies are approaching.]

'46... If I don't one-shot them, more will come. That's going to snowball fast.'

I crack my knuckles and stretch out my arms, body practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Perfect."

This should net me a decent chunk of Exelia. If not, it'll at least be good training.

I brace to charge, then the ceiling above me bursts open.

Three new monsters drop from above. I jump back instinctively, my eyes narrowing as I identify them mid-air.

Purple Moths. And—worse—a Blue Papilio.

I activate Thought Acceleration immediately.

'Shit. That's... Really bad. Great Sage, what are my chances now?'

If they're too low, I'll need to run.

[Answer: Chance of victory has decreased from 83% to 48%. Likelihood of death has increased from 1.3% to 4.1%.]

'I like those odds.'

The Purple Moths begin flapping their wings, releasing shimmering purple dust into the air. It sparkles like deadly glitter, filling the corridor with poison-laced clouds. The Blue Papilio hovers behind them, elegantly flapping it's 4 transparent wings, and scattering fine blue powder that drifts toward the ants, waiting to heal them.

'That complicates things.'

If I don't instantly kill the Killer Ants, they'll attract more ants, and will recover, making my efforts useless.

I could kill the Papilio now... but I'd need to absorb it alive if its powder is a skill.

'Great Sage. That healing powder, is it magic, or a skill?'

[Answer: It is magic.]

'How long will it take to analyse?'

[Answer: Ten minutes required for full analysis.]

'Okay, I can endure never-ending enemies for ten minutes.'

I deactivate Thought Acceleration and take a deep breath, grounding myself.

My knife would break by the 5th ant, making it useless.

"Guess I'll use my hands."

I burst forward, feet pounding against the stone, eyes locked on the swarm. The hallway's not wide, but the ants have claimed every surface. It's a 3D battlefield, one mistake, and they'll be on my back.

The first ant charges me straight-on, mandibles clicking.

I don't stop.

My heel slams down on its head with bone-cracking force. Its body stiffens, then crumples as blood splashes up my leg.

'One down.'

I pivot just in time as four more leap from the walls, trying to pile on me. I jump back, narrowly dodging their claws.

The poisonous powder hangs in the air like fog, settling on my skin. I feel a slight tingling, but I ignore it, because...

[Notice: Substances Purple Moth Powder and Blue Papilio Powder isolated in Stomach. Analysis underway. Analysis speed increased.]

'Nice.'

I surge back in.

Punch. Elbow. Knee. Stomp.

Each blow cracks chitin, crumples bodies, and sends limbs flying. I duck under jaws, slam my shoulder into the thorax of one crawling on the wall, squishing the bug against the wall, then drive my fist through another's exposed underbelly.

With each kill, I automatically use Predator, keeping my surrounding clear.

But no matter how many I crush, more crawl towards me in a never ending swarm. Those that don't die, are revived by the Papilio's healing dust.

One of them manages to graze my thigh—its mandibles slicing through my pants, leaving a shallow cut, while another rakes across my shoulder.

I acknowledge the damage, but feel no actual pain, so I keep moving unimpeded, adrenaline pumping through my veins, and making me feel alive despite death being only an inch away.

Ants crawl over each other, jumping towards me with reckless abandon.

I strike those mid-air, knocking back into the swarm, while killing any grounded ones I get the chance to, and absorb them.

Even as they push me back with pure numbers, even as I retreat slowly... I fight.

I don't laugh to retain enough oxygen to sustain myself, but I'm thrilled.

"This... this is what I needed!" I shout over the chaos, blood-slick fists slamming into another ant's face. "Finally—something fun!"

I realise my fist is stuck in the ants head, and stop myself from absorbing it.

'Am I crazy?' I wonder with a bloodthirsty grin.

I curl my fingers, and they penetrate the carapace, forming a makeshift hold, and I swing the ant's corpse like a makeshift club, knocking away 5 ants simultaneously.

'I've found a new weapon~' I hum like a kid in a candy store.

With a single spin, I launch the ant forward with such speed that it smashes into 4 ants, severely injuring 2, and killing the other 2.

Why worry about a knife, when everything's a weapon?

For a moment, I lose myself in the rhythm. The roar of combat, the scent of blood, the thrill of dancing with death. I move on instinct, each step calculated, my movements and senses improving, as after each clash, Great Sage uploads insights into my mind.

I dodge attacks I can't counter. I strike any that get too close. I bleed from shallow cuts I couldn't completely prevent. I smile from... excitement?

[Notice: Analysis 32% complete.]

I grip the nearest ant's legs, lift it overhead, and hurl it into the moths. Two of them scatter, disoriented.

The Blue Papilio remains untouched.

But I won't let it go for much longer.

Just as I reach for another ant to use as a makeshift club, I hear a high-pitched whistle slicing through the air behind me.

I leap to the side on instinct, and something blurs past where my head had just been.

'It's a Needle Rabbit...'

It hits the ground, flips, and without hesitation, darts into the fray, joining the swarm of Killer Ants already lunging toward me.

I turn my gaze to the direction the rabbit came from and frown as more monsters pour into the corridor. War Shadows. More Needle Rabbits. Even some Purple Moths hover above them.

I click my tongue. 'I'm surrounded now. My only path of retreat is filled with monsters.'

There are dozens more. More than I care enough to count.

'Yeah... fighting this head-on in my current state would be suicidal.'

I let out a slow, measured breath and close my eyes for a moment.

When I open them, they're cold.

'Time to get serious.'

I picture Hestia's face. The tears she'd shed if I die, and the grief knowing I'll never return.

'Let's not ruin her day, since she'll know the moment I died.'

I activate Thought Acceleration, and the world slows around me. All movements become sluggish. I stop at 20x. Fast enough for me to react with ease, but slow enough for me to still feel feedback from my body.

A second Needle Rabbit leaps for my throat. I twist my body fluidly, palm snapping out like a clamp, and catch it mid-air by the neck.

With clinical ease, I snap its spine and wrench its head clean off.

"Congratulations." I whisper, crushing the skull in my hand, carving through muscle and bone to fashion the jagged horn into a makeshift sai. "You're promoted to weapon now."

The swarm presses in. Ants on the walls, War Shadows stalking closer, and Rabbits crouched low, ready to pounce.

But... I dive into them first.

My sai—horn—lashes forward with pinpoint precision, piercing joints, eyes, underbellies. One hit, one kill. I make no excess movement, and leave no need for a second strike.

'Great Sage. Predict their movements, and overlay it in my vision.'

[Notice: Creating visual overlays. Predicting movement trajectories.]

I dial Thought Acceleration up to 40x.

And suddenly—I see everything.

Phantom outlines shimmer over each monster, ghostly images of where they will be. Their attacks are telegraphed seconds in advance, and strikes from behind outlined before they're even launched.

I've practically eliminated my blindspots. It takes the fun out of things slightly, but better that than death.

I don't dodge attacks anymore... I preemptively end the attackers.

My strikes no longer aim for enemies... I attack their futures, stabbing where they'll be, rather than where they are. I abandon one horn when it cracks, and snatch another Needle Rabbit mid-air, crush it's skull, promote it to a sai, and repeat.

Everything becomes calculated as I simply go through the motions, rather than follow the thrill.

[Notice: Analysis 67% complete.]

My process is refined with every movement. I stab, kill, absorb the bodies with Predator, and make room to strike again. My goal is simple... kill as many as possible, using as little effort as possible.

The Blue Papilio's healing dust floats in lazy spirals through the corridor, ready to patch wounds and drag enemies back from the brink of death. I don't let it matter. Every strike I land is a kill, giving the monsters no second chances.

But still—they keep coming.

I dodge a War Shadow's claws—barely. A Frog Shooter's tongue almost rips through my shoulder. But with mechanical efficiency, I dodge, counter, and kill.

Blood runs down my back, as I let a Killer Ant's mandibles cut my flesh in order to avoid a more serious attack.

My body's working in overdrive, and my muscles scream at me for rest.

But why care what my body thinks, when I can't feel pain?

I should run, but there's no path to run onto.

I should panic, but IronHeart eliminates fear.

I should not be enjoying this…

But my smile's already stretching too wide.

Danger, where any mistake could be my last. Strategy, where every resource has to be used. The slow collapse as the odds are stacked against me. My heart beats like a war drum, echoing through my body.

'Am I crazy?' I wonder, as even now, I enjoy this.

I press on, teeth bared, face streaked with sweat and blood.

Then—

[Notice: Analysis of Blue Papilio Powder and Purple Moth Powder complete. Magic acquired.]

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I pause.

A cold grin spreads across my lips, as a ripple of anticipation runs down my spine.

I raise my hand slowly, blood dripping from my knuckles.

I don't need chants or gestures, but...

"It's showtime."

And activate both magics simultaneously.