The instant Qianshuo saw Freya, his mind went blank.
He had imagined that the goddess of beauty would be breathtaking—so beautiful it could steal a person's soul and make them lose themselves.
But the moment he truly beheld her, he understood: Freya's beauty wasn't merely "stunning."
It hit him like a physical blow.
It wasn't only the peerless face that could topple kingdoms—it was the way her very existence made one's heart recognize her as beautiful.
This was Freya.
The goddess whose beauty could intoxicate even other gods.
While Qianshuo stood dazed for that brief moment, Freya was also observing him with open interest—the child she had been anticipating so keenly.
When she saw his features clearly—no longer pale with illness, now clean and refined—surprise flickered in her eyes.
This child…
He was far too good-looking.
Fair-skinned, bright with youthful vitality… and, strangely enough, there was even a trace of cuteness to him.
That only deepened the expectation in her gaze.
Would this momentary daze become the same kind of sinking indulgence that ordinary children fell into—unable to resist her Charm?
Her eyes lingered on that "sharp" radiance clinging to him—like the cold gleam formed from countless sword auras—an luster she had never once seen before.
Just as Freya was considering how long it would take for him to regain his senses—
Qianshuo came back.
As if realizing her gaze was on him, he immediately understood how rude he had been. He hurriedly spoke, his expression filled with apology.
"Forgive me… I lost my composure, Lady Freya."
Before coming, Heith had warned him again and again: no discourtesy, not even the smallest.
And yet, just now, he had met Freya's eyes and drowned in her beauty.
That alone was already a disgraceful lapse.
Qianshuo sighed inwardly.
His temperament still needed tempering. He had been warned. He had prepared himself. And still—he had failed.
So if Freya chose to punish him for it, he wouldn't complain.
He had done wrong.
He would accept it.
But at Qianshuo's sudden apology, Freya first paused—then she laughed.
A laugh so enchanting it could charm all living things, brimming with satisfaction.
Even Ottar—standing guard at her side—couldn't completely keep his face unmoved. The slightest ripple crossed his otherwise still expression.
Clearly, neither Freya nor Ottar had expected Qianshuo to awaken from Charm so quickly.
Freya's beauty could topple the wills of countless people—yet Qianshuo had resisted it by sheer will and kept himself clear-headed.
And this was a boy who didn't even possess a divine blessing.
At that point, there was no doubt left:
This child was fully qualified to become Freya's familia member.
"There's no need to apologize, child," Freya said softly.
"I heard from Heith that your body has already recovered. If there's anywhere you still feel discomfort, just tell her."
She waved lightly, dismissing the matter, then spoke of his health—opening the conversation.
"Thank you for your concern, Lady Freya. I'm mostly recovered."
"And… thank you for saving me. If you hadn't intervened, I'd likely be rotting in the wilderness by now."
As he spoke, Qianshuo bowed deeply—his gratitude sincere.
Freya hadn't only rescued him. She had also ordered Heith, the familia's chief healer, to treat him, and she had provided expensive medicines throughout his recovery.
Qianshuo had asked Heith just how costly those medicines were.
The total was astronomical.
Even if he dressed himself as a girl and sold himself to the pleasure district, he wouldn't be able to repay even a quarter of it.
That was how much it had cost to drag him back from death.
He had been thinking constantly: how could he repay such a debt?
Freya was a goddess. Status, wealth, authority—she lacked none of it.
So what could a powerless boy like him possibly offer?
But whether she needed anything or not, Qianshuo had his own principle:
A debt must be repaid.
After he left Freya Familia, he planned to become an adventurer in Orario, go into the Dungeon, earn valis, and pay her back—slowly, stubbornly, no matter how long it took.
Freya watched him with an amused smile, and those eyes—so captivating they seemed to swallow the world—saw straight through his thoughts.
So the child was thinking about repaying her.
How interesting.
His character, at least, was beyond reproach.
Up to this point, Freya was exceptionally satisfied with everything she had seen.
"You're thinking about how to repay me, aren't you?" Freya asked, her lips curving with playful delight as she abruptly spoke his thoughts aloud.
Qianshuo froze, then gave a bitter smile and nodded.
He wasn't surprised she could see through him. She was a goddess—her experience alone was beyond imagining.
It wasn't strange that she could read him.
"A life-saving grace cannot be repaid," Qianshuo said, meeting those eyes filled with Charm. His gaze was steady; his tone unwavering. "But if Lady Freya ever has need of me… I will go through fire and water without hesitation."
He had already died once—at least, it had felt that way.
This life had been returned to him by Freya.
If she needed him, he would do it.
A drop of kindness deserved a spring in return.
And this wasn't merely kindness—
It was rebirth.
"Oh my," Freya murmured, clearly amused. "A child who knows gratitude."
"But 'through fire and water' is a bit dramatic, isn't it?"
Her smile deepened.
"Still… if you want to repay me, there is an opportunity."
Freya reclined lazily against her seat, her expression meaningful as she spoke with calm leisure.
This boy's way of speaking—refined and formal—matched what Heith had said. He was definitely a child who had traveled from the Far East.
"…An opportunity?" Qianshuo asked, instinctively staring, confused.
The smile on Freya's peerless face was gentle, almost tender—yet it made his heart feel unsteady, as if he didn't understand what she truly meant.
"Become my child," Freya said, her lips parting softly. "And… grow stronger. Become stronger than anyone else. (Shining.)"
Qianshuo went rigid.
He stared at Freya, stunned—because he had never expected that this would be the way she wanted him to repay her.
And—stronger than anyone else?
He had never heard of such a "repayment" in his life.
Her expectations… were absurdly high.
Qianshuo fell silent.
If it was only "join her familia," he would have nodded without the slightest hesitation.
But he couldn't understand the meaning of the latter half.
He looked at Freya, eyes filled with doubt.
"Lady Freya… I don't understand what you mean by the second part."
Freya rose slowly.
A fragrant breeze followed her steps as she approached him, until she stood right in front of him, meeting his eyes.
She didn't explain.
Instead, she asked again—pressing for the answer she wanted.
"Do you lack confidence?"
"After becoming my child, will you become stronger than any adventurer?"
"Or do you believe… you cannot do it?"
Freya wanted that answer.
She wanted to see whether Qianshuo's heart was as sharp as his soul—like a blade.
Even if she could already see his essence through his soul's color, she still wanted to hear the truth from his own lips.
She wanted his ambition.
Qianshuo was silent.
He looked at Freya.
Even if he didn't fully understand, he could now grasp what she was asking.
This was her expectation of him.
Even if the condition was harsh—so harsh it bordered on madness—Qianshuo already had his answer.
He would repay her with everything he had.
If this was what she wanted…
Then he would gamble everything to reach it.
"Lady Freya."
"Hm?" Freya's eyes rippled slightly as she sensed the shift in the boy's bearing.
Qianshuo drew a slow breath, then spoke—calm, but resolute.
"I once vowed that I would become the world's greatest swordsman—the strongest swordmaster."
"So I have never believed I cannot do such a thing."
"And… I believe I will do it."
"Because it is what you require, Lady Freya."
"So I must do it."
His dream.
And his repayment.
In that moment, the two overlapped—planting a seed of ambition deep inside him.
He would exhaust everything to grow stronger.
Stronger than anyone.
He would reach the ultimate heights of the sword and become the strongest swordsman.
Freya listened to his steady, unwavering answer, smiling.
She lifted a hand and gently cupped his face—soft and smooth, almost like he truly was a porcelain doll.
Her eyes were filled with satisfaction as she looked into that gentle, jade-like boy…
…and saw the sharpness within.
"Good," Freya whispered, lips curving.
"Welcome to Freya Familia, Qianshuo."
-------
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