Journey to Become the Zenith

Kings Beneath the Shadows

”I need to see Eon, I have something important that I need to talk to him about.” The moment Victor said this, a huge giant of a man popped out.

The doorway itself seemed smaller when he emerged.

Like a mountain deciding to walk.

Clara, who saw Brinda and Eon standing there beneath the crimson lantern light, immediately knew who they were. Well anyone in Fantom City knew who these two people were.

The enchanting beauty talking sweetly to Victor was the Witch of the Northern District, Brinda.

And the giant of a man whose mere presence seemed to press upon the alley walls was Eon—The Ox King.

Two of the three kings of the underworld of Fantom City stood before her...

and acted subservient to Victor.

That realization did not arrive gently.

It struck.

Hard.

Clara’s thoughts spun.

Didn’t Victor just arrive in this town a few weeks ago?

When the hell did he subdue two of the three kings?!

Her pulse stumbled.

Her purple eyes shifted toward him.

He stood there in his black shirt and golden jacket as though commanding underworld kings was no stranger than ordering dinner.

How much of him did she not know?

How much had she mistaken for reckless bravado... when it had been calculation?

Her mind raced further.

Wait don’t tell me it’s not just these two, but even the third one was done in by him?

The third one she was talking about was none other than Gian.

Night.

The kingdom’s deadliest assassin.

That can’t be... he’s the best assassin of this kingdom.

Yet her own thought betrayed itself.

She looked again at Victor, now exchanging familiar glances with Brinda and Eon.

No... if it’s him then it might be possible.

That was a man who laughed in the face of an A-rank monster.

A man who had slaughtered a Hydra as if stepping on an ant.

The impossible kept becoming routine around him.

Lane noticed Clara’s stunned silence.

A faint, smug softness crossed her lips.

She leaned close and whispered,

”Surprised?”

Clara gave her a sharp glance.

”You knew?”

Lane only answered,

”I know enough to stop underestimating him.”

Beside Victor, Videl folded her arms with quiet pride.

It pleased her, watching Clara’s certainty fracture.

Because that was how it began.

First disbelief.

Then fascination.

Then falling.

And Videl had already seen the edge Clara was approaching.

...

Brinda, meanwhile, had not missed Clara’s reaction either.

Her purple eyes gleamed.

”How adorable,” she purred, ”the new girl is only now learning your true nature, Sir Victor.”

Victor gave her a sidelong look.

”Don’t sound disappointed.”

She stepped nearer.

The slit of her robe revealed toned thigh as she moved, deliberate as temptation.

Her voluptuous figure curved beneath violet silk, impossible not to notice, and even Clara—despite irritation—found herself understanding why Brinda was called a witch.

Brinda smiled.

”I simply wonder how many women realize too late they’ve already become caught.”

Lane’s hand slipped around Victor’s arm possessively.

”Careful,” she said.

”That sounds like a challenge.”

Videl added dryly,

”She mistakes herself for the hunter.”

Brinda laughed.

”And you all mistake yourselves for rivals.”

Victor sighed.

”Should I leave and let you four settle territorial disputes?”

Even Eon snorted.

Which somehow made Clara more unsettled.

Why did this bizarre scene feel almost... domestic?

She hated that thought.

And hated more that Victor looked entirely at ease in the middle of it.

...

Then Eon stepped fully forward.

Massive.

Black-haired.

Broad as a fortress gate.

His dark gaze fixed on Victor with that familiar rough-edged hostility that somehow never quite became genuine hatred.

More ritual than rebellion.

”What do you want?” Eon looked at Victor still with a dissatisfied look. He might not be able to do anything to Victor physically, but he still wanted to glare at the bastard even though it was nothing more than a little act of defiance.

Victor’s mouth twitched.

”There it is.”

”What?” Eon grunted.

”The warm greeting I expected.”

Brinda covered a laugh.

Lane outright smiled.

Even Clara nearly did.

Eon scowled deeper.

”I should throw you through a wall.”

Victor stepped closer, lowering his voice.

”You’ve threatened that often enough to sound affectionate.”

For one dangerous second it looked like Eon might actually swing.

Instead he folded his arms.

The gesture made the ground feel smaller.

Brinda shook her head.

”You two flirt more strangely than lovers.”

Clara choked.

Videl burst into laughter.

Eon growled,

”I will crush everyone here.”

Victor looked utterly untroubled.

Then his expression changed.

Subtle.

But immediate.

The playfulness vanished.

Steel entered his gaze.

And everyone felt it.

Even Brinda straightened.

Even Eon noticed.

Victor only became this serious when something mattered.

And that made the alley itself seem quieter.

A wind moved between the lanterns.

Somewhere distant, laughter from the brothels drifted strangely far away.

Clara felt a chill.

This was another side of him.

Not the teasing man at dinner.

Not the battle-mad warrior.

Something colder.

The strategist.

The one kings might fear.

Victor looked directly at Eon.

”I came because I learned something important about you.”

Eon’s eyes narrowed.

”What nonsense now?”

Victor did not answer immediately.

He studied him.

As if seeing bloodline through flesh.

Memory through amnesia.

Lineage through ruin.

Then quietly:

”There may be answers about your past.”

That hit.

Harder than threats ever could.

Eon’s jaw tightened.

Brinda’s teasing expression faded.

Lane and Videl exchanged glances.

Even Clara understood now—

this was no casual visit.

Victor had brought her here not merely to reveal underworld ties.

But because she was beginning to be trusted.

The thought warmed and unsettled her at once.

She masked it quickly.

Still—

something in her chest moved.

Eon finally spoke, voice lower.

”What kind of answers?”

Victor gave only a faint smile.

”The kind worth discussing inside.”

Brinda stepped aside with graceful invitation.

Yet her eyes lingered on Victor differently now.

Not flirtation.

Recognition.

She was watching ambition move.

Watching fate rearrange.

And somewhere deep inside, Clara realized with startling certainty—

she had stepped into something much larger than an adventurer’s party.

She had stepped into Victor’s hidden kingdom.

And perhaps—

there was no stepping back.