Chapter 389
The air beneath the stone foundations of the Amphitheatrum was a stagnant soup of copper, musk, and dust.
Above, the muffled roar of thousands of spectators vibrated through the ceiling….a rhythmic thrum of bloodlust and excitement that served as the heartbeat of the festival.
But down here, in the bowels of the stadium, the atmosphere was far more primal.
It was a cavernous, rectangular storage room, illuminated only by a single magic stone lamp that dangled precariously from a rusted iron hook in the center of the ceiling.
The lamp flickered, its pale yellow glow struggling against the encroaching darkness of the corners.
Every time the light wavered, the shadows leaped and stretched across the walls like grasping fingers.
Tall wooden crates, some stacked three or four meters high, created a claustrophobic labyrinth in the room.
They were marked with the seals of the Ganesha Familia…..heavy-handed stamps meant to signify order and safety, though the contents within suggested anything but.
Along the damp stone walls, racks of jagged spears, heavy nets, and sedation darts hung ready for use, their steel surfaces slick with the humidity of the underground.
And then there were the cages.
Rows of thick, lattice-patterned iron bars lined the perimeter.
Within those iron boxes, the shadows breathed.
The sound was a mix of misery and rage: the rhythmic clink-clatter of heavy chains, the wet rasp of breath through flared nostrils, and the occasional, bone-chilling thud of a heavy body throwing itself against the restraints.
The monsters….creatures dragged from the upper and middle floors of the Dungeon….poked their snouts through the narrow gaps in the lattice, their yellowed fangs bared, saliva dripping onto the grimy floor.
This was the staging area, the "Green Room" for the theater of Monsterphilia.
Here, the beasts waited for their turn to be hoisted to the surface, where they would provide entertainment for the masses before being subdued or slaughtered.
“What are those idiots doing? We’re ready for the next one! Why won’t they raise it?!”
The voice was sharp, cutting through the low growls of the monsters like a whip.
It was a feminine voice, steeped in the irritation of a person whose schedule had been disrupted.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop.
The rhythmic strike of high heels against the cold stone floor announced her arrival long before she stepped into the pool of light.
Adi, a member of the Ganesha Familia and the current team manager for monster transportation, burst through the heavy oak door.
Her subordinates were usually clockwork-reliable, but for some reason they had failed to deliver……delaying the schedule of events.
She stepped into the room, her hand on her hip, ready to unleash a verbal lashing that would make a Level 3 adventurer flinch.
“I said, why is the….?”
Adi stopped.
The silence that met her was more unsettling than any monster’s roar.
“W-what’s wrong? Hey!”
Panic, cold and sudden, flared in her chest.
She scanned the room, her eyes darting between the stacks of crates.
Scattered across the floor like discarded laundry were the four men she had left in charge.
These were seasoned adventurers, men who dealt with Minotaurs and hellhounds without blinking.
The first man she reached was slumped against a crate of meat scraps.
His head hung back at an unnatural angle, his eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling.
Adi’s heart hammered against her ribs as she knelt beside him, her fingers trembling as she checked for a pulse or a wound.
He was breathing.
In fact, his breath was coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
There were no bruises, no blood, no signs of a struggle.
She moved to the next man, then the third, then the fourth.
It was the same story for all of them.
They sat or sprawled in a state of absolute, vacant catatonia.
Their limbs were heavy, their bodies lacking any semblance of tension, resembling puppets whose strings had been cleanly severed by a master’s blade.
“Ah… ah.” Adi’s breath hitched.
She instinctively covered her nose and mouth with the crook of her elbow.
‘Poison…?’ she thought frantically.
A paralytic gas?
An odorless soporific leaked from somewhere?
She stood perfectly still, waiting for the dizziness to claim her, for her lungs to seize.
But seconds ticked by, and she remained upright.
The air was heavy, yes, but it wasn't toxic…..at least, not in the poisonous sense.
She looked closer at the man nearest to her.
His face was flushed a deep, sunset red.
His eyes were unfocused, swimming in a sea of glazed euphoria.
Most disturbingly, the unmistakable protrusion in his trousers indicated a state of intense physical arousal.
It was as if they had been hit with a dose of the most potent aphrodisiac known, yet the effect was different.
Normally, such a drug would turn men into ravenous beasts; these men were merely… gone. They were lost in a trance so deep they seemed to have forgotten how to be…...normal.
A chill that had nothing to do with the dampness of the room crept down Adi’s spine.
‘Seriously, what happened here…?’
The monsters in the cages continued to thrash, their roars providing a dissonant soundtrack to the eerie scene.
Adi forced herself to stand, her gaze scanning the shadows.
Her instincts as an adventurer, screamed at her that she was being watched.
Then, the air shifted.
It wasn't a gust of wind, nor the heavy footfalls of a hidden enemy.
It was a subtle, almost imperceptible change in the room’s pressure.
It felt like the atmosphere itself had become denser, sweeter, and impossibly soft.
Adi spun around, her hand reaching for the weapon she used for combat, but her movements felt sluggish, as if she were trying to move through a pool of honey.
The sensation was bizarre.
There was no killing intent.
No malice.
It felt less like a sneak attack and more like an old friend leaning in to whisper a secret.
Because of that lack of aggression, her internal alarms….those sharp, jagged instincts that kept an adventurer alive….failed to fire in time.
Before she could fully turn, a presence manifested directly behind her.
“Please stand still?”
The voice was ethereal.
It wasn't just heard; it was felt in the marrow of her bones.
It was a melody played on the strings of the soul, a sound so beautiful it made Adi’s throat tighten with an inexplicable urge to weep.
“Ah.” Adi tried to gasp, but the sound that left her lips was a soft, traitorous moan.
A quick swish of fine cloth whispered in the air, and suddenly, the dim light of the room vanished.
Two delicate hands, their skin as smooth as polished marble and warm as a summer hearth, reached around and covered Adi’s eyes.
Adi’s entire world narrowed down to the sensation of those fingers and the body pressed against her back.
The intruder was soft, radiating a gentle heat that seemed to seep through Adi’s clothing and melt her resolve.
A scent…..sweet, intoxicating, like a field of flowers blooming in the dead of winter….filled her lungs.
It was an overwhelming, incomprehensible charm.
It was a power that bypassed the brain and spoke directly to the blood.
Adi’s mind, began to evaporate.
Every thought, every duty, every shred of her identity was being bleached white by a radiance she couldn't even see.
She wanted to fight.
She knew she should.
But the "beauty" radiating from the person holding her was a physical weight, a gravity that demanded total surrender.
Her knees shook; her fingers twitched.
She was a bird caught in the gaze of a serpent, yet she found herself loving the serpent.
“Where is the key?” the voice whispered.
The breath tickled Adi’s ear, sending a jolt of lightning down her spine that left her limbs feeling like lead.
“Eeeeok…” Adi tried to form words, but her tongue felt thick and useless.
Her consciousness was a flickering candle in a hurricane of allure.
“The key to the cages… where is it?”
The repetition of the question wasn't a command; it was an invitation.
Adi’s head lolled forward, her neck no longer able to support the weight of her own skull.
She didn't want to disobey.
The very idea of denying this person anything felt like a mortal sin.
With a jerky, trembling motion, Adi’s prosthetic arm reached behind her.
Her fingers fumbled with the heavy brass keychain strapped to her utility belt.
The keys jangled violently, the sound echoing off the stone walls like a frantic alarm that she chose to ignore.
She unclipped them and raised them slowly, holding them up over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” the voice said.
The warmth against her back vanished.
The delicate fingers left her eyes.
Adi’s sight returned, but it was useless.
Her pupils were engorged, her vision swimming in a haze of silver.
She didn't turn around.
She couldn't.
The "charm" had left her a hollow shell.
Her knees finally gave out, buckling under the weight of her own infatuation.
She sank to the floor, landing softly on her rear, her back leaning against a crate just as her subordinates had.
She stared into the middle distance, a vacant, blissful smile playing on her lips.
She had joined the ranks of the enchanted.
Freya stepped past the fallen woman, the heavy keychain swinging gently from her elegant fingers.
She didn't look back; the goddess of beauty had already moved on to the next task.
To reach this room, she had walked through the west gate of the Amphitheatrum as if she were a ghost passing through a wall.
Guild officials, Ganesha guards….it didn't matter.
She had rendered them all helpless with nothing more than a glance or a whispered word.
Freya possessed no martial prowess.
In this lower world, she was forbidden from using her Arcanum…..the true power of a god.
She carried no daggers, no staves, no hidden magic.
But she didn't need them.
She was the essence of Beauty itself.
It was a power that transcended reason and bypassed the mental fortifications of mortals and gods alike.
She had the overwhelming ability to put everyone in a trance on a whim……..well almost everyone……there were a very few exceptions.
This time she was using it to have a little fun.
The gender or race of her victims didn’t matter.
Their consciousness would leave them; they would forget they had bones to stand on.
They became infatuated with her charm.
As long as she was careful not to be seen, this level of infiltration was well within her power.
Freya stopped in the middle of the storage room.
The beasts, sensing a new presence, redoubled their efforts.
A large Orc in a nearby cage slammed its fists against the bars, its roar a deafening explosion of sound.
Freya calmly reached up and lowered the hood of her cloak.
The effect was instantaneous.
The roaring stopped.
The thrashing ceased.
The rattling of chains died into a haunting silence.
Even the monsters, creatures of instinct and mindless rage, were not immune.
As Freya’s silver hair spilled over her shoulders and her silver eyes surveyed the room, the beasts within the cages froze.
Their predatory aggression vanished, replaced by a strange, whimpering docility.
They pressed their faces against the bars, not to bite, but to gaze upon the snow-white skin and the divine symmetry of her face.
Their muscles went limp; their fangs were hidden.
Freya ignored the lesser creatures, her eyes moving over the various cages.
She was looking for something specific.
Something with strength, yet something that could be pointed like a weapon.
Finally, she stopped in front of a particularly large cage at the far end of the room.
Inside was a Silverback.
The creature was massive, a mountain of bulging muscle and coarse white fur.
It stood nearly three meters tall, its broad shoulders filling the width of the iron enclosure.
A line of longer, thread-white fur….remarkably similar in color to Freya’s own hair….ran down the center of its back, ending in a stubby, powerful tail.
The Silverback locked eyes with the goddess.
Its pupils dilated.
Its breath came in heavy, rhythmic huffs, white plumes of steam rising from its nostrils in the cold cellar air.
It didn't roar.
It simply watched her, mesmerized, its primitive heart beating in time with her footsteps.
“You will have to do,” Freya murmured.
She sorted through the keys, her movements graceful and unhurried.
She found the heavy iron skeleton key that matched the cage's lock and slid it home.
The mechanism turned with a heavy, satisfying clunk.
“Come out.”
The Silverback stepped out of the lattice cage.
Its heavy shackles jangled against the floor, trailing behind it like iron vines.
It towered over the goddess, a engine of destruction that could crush a skull with a single squeeze.
Yet, it stood before her like a loyal hound, its head bowed slightly, waiting for her command.
Freya knew the risks.
Releasing a monster of this caliber into a crowded festival was an act of chaos that could lead to disaster.
But to a goddess who had lived for aeons, such "disasters" were merely interesting ripples in a dull pond.
She had a goal.
Her heart had been captivated by a certain soul…..a soul that shone with a purity rarely seen in the mortal world.
In the past, Freya sought a certain dragon-kin, she still desired him……but circumstances keep her from acting rashly.
Since she couldn't have the dragon of her desire, then a certain white rabbit would suffice to curb her restless desire.
Even better, it was remarkably easier to capture…..so she couldn't hold herself back.
A/N: Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, donate and read 1 extra chapter as a free member.