Paleblood

by Arrixam

Bell had the strangest dream. Problem is... he can't remember what it was about. But the Dream remembers him. The Dream will never forget what he had done. And within the Waking World, the Hunters he had wronged will be coming for him. Oedon does not forgive those who disrupted his slumber.

13. Chapter 13

Dear Glenn,

Hi! How you doing? You know, ever since my last letter to you I suddenly notice my readers have been giving me very specific feedback. Remember when I told you I was going to take a break for a year after the New Year? Yeah, my readers have either wished me luck or asked for me to stay.

You didn't tell them anything, did you?

Of course not! I trust you! Anyways, I wanted to bring up an idea with you real quick. See, there is a possibility I can stay and updated all these stories on this site throughout the next year. But, the only problem with that is it'll cut into my time with my original works. And I'm REALLY wanting to expand Synthesis, redo Reverse, and start those other projects I mentioned on the chat. It's also hard considering fanfiction cuts into a lot of my personal life. I love it, sure, but there's only so much I can do as the starving artist.

This was this internet thing called... hmm... the name escapes me. But for now let's call it a Pat.

So I'm thinking about opening up one of these Pats after the New Year. I'd like to dedicate it mostly for my original works. But I can also update other projects on the side. Plus, I'm thinking about offering a few rewards. Any ideas what those can be?

Please let me know what you think. Also, keep this from those losers in the chat. Especially Aaron. Cuz, seriously, fuck him.

Sincerely yours,

Zyra the Great~

...Right, so, please ignore the letter up there. It's not for you.

This is also a note from the author, just to let you know. Some things to come out before the next chapter starts.

First, fan art! I've finally figured out the links and have updated my profile. They're there with instructions on how to view the images. Thank you once again, Oslight, for making things that make me squeal like a fangirl.

Second, a mistake regarding terminology. Previous chapter I kept calling Heaven "Genkai". Totally wrong and thank you [Person's Name I Can't Remember or Find] for pointing that out. You know who you are. The actual name for Heaven is "Tenkai". The term will be used in future chapters from this point on.

Third, WHY IS THERE SO MUCH ON CAINHURST?! Like, seriously, the fuck?! Okay, so, aside from the things I have planned and don't want to share for spoiler reasons, the number... three thing discussed in the reviews in regards to an NPC named Arianna. She wears some Cainhurst garb in-game and thus it's highly believed she's from Cainhurst (plus she gives you healing blood directly from her veins so there's that). I have A- count it, one- plan for her in this story. Unfortunately... she won't be brought up in the DanMachi verse. Her involvement is mostly with Bell in the Bloodborne flashbacks. When those will be shared, I honestly don't know.

Really, this arc is getting longer than it should be. Notice how all the arcs are like two to three chapters only? We're already on chapter three and it's still just beginning. I need to get back to my old pacing and hurry the hell up. Or I'll never reach my deadline.

Oh. One last thing. I'm asking everybody.

Who does everyone want to see Bell more involved with? And by that I mean who he's going to wind up with on one hot steamy night where she pushes him down on the bed and-

Eh. Rambling.

ON WITH THE SHOW!

---

She was trapped. Cursed and imprisoned. When the Church's Executioners lay siege upon her castle was there naught she could do. They had come not in early dawn or in the dead of night. They had come during the hour of feast. They had come when her precious Vilebloods partook in the holy communion and slit throats when encumbered by the euphoria of blood.

Pandemonium erupted. Her Royal Guard swept her away, to fall back onto her throne for a final defense. Her subjects were slain. But so long as she remained unharmed would the Vilebloods continue to exist.

It was pointless.

Her Knights were vanquished. Her Royal Guard were bested. And her husband beheaded just like all the rest.

But she laughed. She laughed and cursed the fool Logarius who led this siege. No matter what the man would try, her body was undying. Burn her. Hang or behead her. Drain her of blood. Nothing they tried could execute her.

So sealed was she. They bound an iron mask over her face and locked her away in her throne. And Logarius sacrificed himself. The arrant fool had made sure he would remain her eternal gaoler.

But Annalise was patient. She had existed long before the Church. Her ancestry had ties to the ancient Pthumerians. She had seen the world change throughout the ages. No matter how strong this cage was, it will eventually crumble to the will of time just as a rock is ground by the shifting tides.

As she predicted, her savior had come. How long had she been here? Trapped in time by the curse of Logarius? It mattered not, she supposed.

The first thing she noticed about this visitor was not his approach. His blood was fresh, so young and full of life. He walked with a gaunt of caution, of wonder, and… innocence. But, no, none of these things mattered.

He reeked of the moon. He had been touched by the Old One, Flora.

"Visitor…" she spoke just as she would for any she granted audience. "I claim no subjects. But here lieth our throne. Kneel afore us… or get thee gone."

The boy, the one still covered in the blood of Logarius, approached until he was at the steps of her throne. He did not move. He was transfixed by her. It was as though he had never lain eyes on someone such as she before.

How quant.

"Such impudence," her tone turned sharp. He reacted with a jolt. "Defiled, are we, yet still Queen. We shall not give audience to an ill-mannered beast. Get thee gone."

He grew flustered and did exactly what she demanded. He knelt… in a fashion he was all too familiar with. It was more akin to him sitting on his heels. Rather than kneel in fealty, he knelt like a small child expecting a lecture.

…She supposed it would do. Kneel he did.

"Visitor," she lightened her tone. "Moon-scented Hunter, I am Annalise, Queen of Castle Cainhurst. Ruler of the Vilebloods."

She paused. Not out of consideration. But to make sure he would hear.

"And sworn enemy of the Church," she went on with a small, dry laugh. "Yet, our people are murdered and we are prisoner to this wretched mask. What is it thou'rt in search of?"

"I… I don't know," his voice was small. Bewildered. He sounded frightened and unsure of himself.

This was her savior? This was the one who bested her turned subjects? This was the one who had traversed throughout her castle and broken the seal left by Logarius? No weak soul could have done such things. And yet… how could someone so… innocent achieve it?

Pure. This young one was pure. A diamond buried deep in a world of dark and cold.

"Well, well…" she smiled behind her iron mask. "An odd Hunter thou art indeed. We've tired of these piteous nights. Share in our plight and take oath against the Church. If though would'st this path walk… I prithee partake in my rotted blood."

She would have this one. This pure soul. He would make a fine Vileblood. One who would not scheme behind her back. One who would not stab at his neighbor. One who would not follow her blindly but out of his own obligation. One with a mind and soul and heart greater than her most zealous of Royal Guards.

She ran her thumb across her wrist. Her blood began to ooze out. She leaned forward and extended her reach for him.

"N-No," he said. He bowed further until his brow kissed the floor. "I'm sorry! B-But one of my friends is from the Church. I… don't want to be his enemy. I don't want to fight another one…"

Heartbreak. Something in his words was making him sob. From what she could assume, this Hunter had to put down one of his fellow comrades. Such was to be expected in the hunt. Yet he still cried for his lost.

She found… she couldn't corrupt this one. No. She wouldn't. Not this one. Not this child.

She withdrew her hand.

"A wise choice. There is no more to be said. Away from mine gaze."

He lingered on. He tried to speak further with her but she refused him. She would not be tempted to corrupt this one. Let him be gone to finish his duties as a Hunter. Now that the seal was broken could another be chosen as a Vileblood.

It wasn't long until she was left alone once more. She sat in her throne, waiting for any else to approach.

How much time had passed? Days? Weeks? Years? She did not know. Time… was nonexistent since the curse had been placed on Cainhurst. Vanquished as Logarius was, the lingering residue of her subjects and their hatred for the Church kept her territory in stasis.

A new visitor had come.

She did not greet this one. She recognized the scent anywhere.

A Church Executioner.

That boy… he had mentioned he was acquainted with a member of the Church. He must have spread the word of this place.

She only laughed as this Executioner spewed his piteous nonsense, calling her a heretic and how he must make a true martyr out of Logarius. She continued to laugh when he delivered his weapon onto her being— a cartwheel. He brought it around again and again, reciting prayers and spitting curses at her. Even as she fell out of her chair. Even as her body was smashed beyond recognition. Even as her face was squashed enough for her mask to fall off.

Her body was reduced to nothing more than chunks of meat.

Yet still she lived.

"Master, look!" the Executioner raised his arms and laughed with pride. His breathing was still haggard from the effort but he was overwhelmed in the euphoria of his quest. "I've done it. I've done it! I smashed and pounded this rotten siren into fleshly pink pulp!

"There, you filthy monstrosity! What good's your immortality now! Try stirring up trouble in this sorry state! All mangled and twisted, with every inside on the outside, for all the world to see!"

He laughed riotously. His laughter shadowed the fleet of rushing footsteps coming from the grand staircase entrance.

"Alfred!" gasped the moon-scented Hunter. Nothing but horror sang in his voice.

"Oh, you, is it?" the Executioner turned and welcomed the Hunter. "Look at this! Thanks to you, I've done it! Well, isn't it wonderful?"

The boy approached the throne. His steps were light while he shivered. There, at the core of her being, at the largest piece of meat that remained, he approached. He picked her up in his hands as though cradling a wounded creature. Was this how she saw her in her pitiable state?

"Now Master can be canonized as a true martyr! I've done it! I have!"

As the boy cried for her, the Executioner was drunk in his triumph.

She did not understand why he cried for her. Did this fool think this was his fault? Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was not. She had never once despised him. She couldn't. This was bound to happen, just as her kingdom sieged before. So long as a single Executioner existed, she would be hunted. Always.

"Why?!" the boy screamed and spun at the Executioner. "Why did you do this?! She was harmless! She did nothing to you! I told you about her because I wanted to learn more! I didn't want this to happen!"

"…Just what is the meaning of this?" the Executioner asked with curiosity and a hint of insult.

"Why?" the boy sobbed more. "Why? Alfred, please. Just tell me why. We… She wasn't a beast. We're supposed to hunt beasts. We aren't supposed to hurt anything else…"

"You're jealous, aren't you?" the Executioner adjusted the grip on his wheel.

The air grew tense. Slowly, the boy placed her flesh into his pocket while the other hand reached for his hidden blade.

"Alfred… you're mad."

"Unclean wench!" the Executioner roared and turned his weapon on the boy.

The wheel came down. The boy only had an instant to dive out of the way just as the wooden device crushed the marbled tiles beneath. He rolled and quickly rose to his feet. His blade was drawn.

The two engaged in combat. The Executioner, despite the size and weight of his weapon, was fast and unrelenting. Though the boy was fast and knew of a talent long forgotten, the art of Quickening, the Executioner did not give him an opening. The boy could have fled. But, no, this was not a fight for survival.

This was another hunt. The two were trying to kill each other as they saw the other maddened. Had the boy never been introduced to zealous behavior? Did he mistake it as beasthood? And there was no doubt the Executioner thought him a traitor for defending the Vileblood Queen.

"Vile monstrocity! Bloody fool! Has the blood gone to your head? Pathetic, as you deserve!"

She witnessed the boy's tenacity. But there was hesitation in his steps. She may be no warrior, but she had seen many a number of duels to acquire an eye in single-handed combat.

The boy's words echoed throughout her consciousness. He did not want to take the life of this Alfred.

But all Hunters must hunt.

"B-Blood!" the Executioner gasped as the crooked blade found its way into his chest. "You've spilled my blood. Pray for Master Logarius… in my stead…"

The Executioner took his last breath.

And the boy cried some more.

From this point on, she was carried within the boy's person. Many times did he try to heal her, pricking her with injections of the healing blood. Nothing he tried worked.

Still, he sought an answer. She did not know what drove him. What right person would carry a piece of raw meat in their care for such a long journey? Was he aware she was still living, still conscious of all his actions? Was he aware she was watching him?

The night was long as he carried her throughout his hunt. How many beasts did she see him slay? How many of his fellow Hunters? How many tears did this one shed for both?

She wondered if she would be left like this forever. To be in his care as he endlessly pursued an unknown means of undoing this form?

She found… she wouldn't mind.

"…Ascend Oedon Chapel," she heard him mutter suddenly. A surge of insight came through him. He changed course and headed to his destination.

And from there did he find the headquarters of the Choir, the highest sect belonging to the Church. He walked through their orphanage, purged the place of beasts and corrupt walking its halls, and walked through its enchanted garden. As though guided by an unknown force, he did not search through the library or hidden chambers of the Church's heads. Instead, he found a simple elevator fashioned at the core of the institution.

It burrowed down, deeper than the height of the Church's clocktower.

They entered a cavern, vast and shining with florescent vegetation. A lake took most of the floor, though it was shallow enough for the boy to walk with the water reaching no higher than his calves.

Her core shuddered as she sensed what the boy was approaching.

It was tall, larger than any beast they have come across. It took on the similar physique of a slug with extending tendrils and chitin plating. To describe it did it no justice. Its physical appearance meant little compared to what it represented.

Its body hummed with power. This was undeniable. Its vessel was merely an anchor for this celestial entity. This creature could undo them both if it so desired.

This… This was an Old One.

The boy gazed up at it not in awe. But… in sorrow.

"Simon…" the boy spoke softly. "Alfred. Ludwig. This is what they meant. What the Church had done. Why people they took in were turned into things. All the experimentations. What Iosefka was trying to achieve… you're the cause of it, aren't you?"

The Old One paid him no mind. He was nothing to it.

"I'm sorry."

The Old One let loose an unearthly howl once the boy unsheathed his weapon and plunged the blade into its hide.

The fool! He sought to challenge an Old One?! Many great and fearsome beasts had she seen him vanquish, but to face an Old One was nothing!

Ebrietas, Daughter of the Cosmos, turned and unleashed the powers of the universe onto this foolish mortal. Hunter or no, protected by the Dream or not, there was no greater force out there beyond the likes of an Old One.

Yet the boy fought. And, beyond her comprehension, he fought on equal ground to the Old One. For every blast of cosmic radiance the Old One unleashed, the boy carved his blades through its skin. As his skin was burnt with arcane forces, it was being cleansed by Ebrietas' blood.

And he was the one to deliver the fatal blow.

The Old One quivered… and lay still.

This boy… he had slain an Old One. He had killed something not unlike a god. He had undone a creature not of this plane of existence— a cosmic entity entwined with the fabric of reality!

Nothing was greater than an Old One. This was truth.

And if this was truth… what was the Dream? Did another Old One have ties to this boy?

Panting, wounded, and exhausted, he remained standing. He took no pride in the kill. He cried for the Old One just as much as he had for any other Hunter undone by his blade. He needed this moment to wallow in his depression, to accept his actions, and reobtain his fortitude.

He stepped away from the Old One's corpse and headed towards the back of the caverns. He pulled out her pink mush from his pocket and placed it upon a stone altar.

"Please," he whispered as he clutched at the edges and bowed his head in prayer. "Please, please, please. Let this work. I don't know what else to do. I can't bring the others back. Not after what I've done. But, please, just this one thing. Let me save… just one person."

Just one person. Those words had him breaking into tears. She understood; his path was paved with misfortune and blood. The path of a Hunter was not one of salvation but damnation. A Hunter hunts… and never protects.

She would have scoffed at him. Had he learned nothing? Those tears of his never brought his friends out of their insanity. His words did less. And too often did he have to put them down just like the beasts of the night.

She didn't laugh. Not at him. Not after witnessing his incorruptible innocence and pure heart.

And perhaps it was because of these qualities did a miracle happen. Or it was because he was doused in the blood of an Old One or had absorbed some of Ebrietas' arcane energy in their fight. Or… because of something else she will never understand.

Time was undone. The will of the Cosmos reached down and touched Annalise.

And she sat once more in her throne, whole and healthy. It was as though that Executioner Alfred had never visited the antechamber. Alas, the boy was not with her.

And she found his lack of presence… displeasing.

She would not have to wait long. Before she knew it, a familiar presence had found its way to Cainhurst. She observed it until the figure made its way to her throne and climbed the steps to stand before her.

It was her Hunter.

Her Hunter… She suppressed a smile at the thought.

"Y-You…" he croaked as he approached. "You're okay. T-Thank… goodness…"

He was ready to cry as a tremendous guilt was washed off his shoulders.

"Arrant fool," she spoke just as she had before. "Forget not; we are Queen. Bend the knee."

Instantly, he knelt in his previous fashion— legs tucked under his thighs and awaiting instruction.

She could not hold the smile this time. It was fortunate her face was hidden by the iron mask.

"I'm sorry," he said when sufficient time passed. "It's because of me… I didn't know Alfred would do that. I remembered he mentioned something about Vilebloods. So I asked him and… I'm sorry!"

He bowed his head until his brow kissed the floor.

She said nothing as she watched him.

"I know this can never make up for it but…" he rose— against proper etiquette but she decided she would excuse him for this much— and rummaged through his belongings. "I want you to have it! I found it deep in the Dungeons. It's a ring; I think it's for a woman because it can't fit on my fingers. It's very pretty. I-I think it would look great on you. I don't know how much value this really has, but this is all I can offer for—"

"Still thy honeyed tongue," she said as he slowly crawled on his knees to her feet. "The thought alone sufficeth. Thy worth is too great. Now, speak no more in the matter."

"A-All the more reason!" he blurted back. How crass; to speak in such a way before royalty. "If it's really that important then you should have it! Y-You're a queen! I can't think of anyone who deserves it more! Please… for me…?"

Silence was her response. The boy's form slouched as he retracted his arm. Guilt and sadness washed over him over this rejection.

She found… she could not tolerate this behavior any longer.

"…Honestly!"

She leaned forward and extended her hand.

And dare she say he glowed like the rising sun when he approached and placed the ring on her finger. When she pulled her hand away, her thumb caressed the ring. He moved back to his prior position.

"Thy gift pleases us," she said with a lifted spirit of her own. "We await thy return… This chamber was made not for one alone. For the honor of Cainhurst."

She dismissed him. She knew of his duties as a Hunter. The hunt resumes as the night continues. Her affair was but a distraction.

"Y-Yes!" he rose to his feet and bowed again. "I promise to visit again once the night is over. I'd like to know more about you, Annalise— Q-Queen Annalise! Maybe… I can ask you instead of through someone else?"

She would have liked that. Her dear betrothed. She would not turn him into a Vileblood. She would not corrupt him, though she knew she couldn't even if she tried. She had witnessed his soul triumph over an Old One.

He would make a fine King.

And so she waited for his return.

But he never would.

0-0-0

Annalise stroked the diamond ring lovingly as she rode in the carriage. The sound of the city could be heard through the shutters as the wheels rattled over the cobblestones and hooves of the horses clattered as they walked. She could feel the staring of the mortals and divine beyond the wooden walls. They meant nothing to her.

"He hath grown," she said to her chamberlain sitting across. "Matured and bloomed. And yet… doth he remain unchanged. His innocence, his purity, it layeth unbroken."

The chamberlain said nothing in reply. He sat erect with his Chikage between his legs and hands over the pummel. He could see the outside no more than she could, yet his head turned at the windows to observe those outside through heightened senses.

"We wonder what manner'th king he shall become."

Like a maiden in love, her thoughts were consumed by her precious Hunter. Her petty squabbles with Ares and the scheming of her court were forgotten. There were only plots to have him.

Specifically, at her side.

"See'th all is taken care of," she commanded. "Watch him. Maketh thy presense unknown. Return to us when thou'st learneth enough."

The chamberlain did not respond just as he always had. He remained in his seat as the carriage carried them through the streets.

Suddenly, the door opened and he slipped out like a shadow of the night. The door shut behind him. His departure did not make a single noise and did not stir or shift the balance of the carriage. The driver continued on— as he would even if noticing this disturbance.

Annalise stroked the ring one last time before cupping her hands together. The city gates were approaching. She put all thoughts on the Good Hunter to rest. Her chamberlain will provide her with what she craved at the appropriate time.

For now, she needed to return to her subjects. They would demand a court assembly after fighting with Rakian soldiers. They would want to present her with fresh blood and further their status as Vilebloods. They would smile at her behind their porcelain faces to further their selfish desires.

At some point, her thumb went to rub the diamond in her subconscious.

She wondered how they will react once they learned of their king.

0-0-0

"She was in your pocket for how long?" Hestia summed up the entire story with one question.

Bell couldn't come up with a response to that. They both sat on the couch while he had told his entire story with Queen Annalise and his adventure (read: nightmare) through Castle Cainhurst. In order to do that, he had to tell her a few other stories to answer some other questions that were brought up.

She never once challenged his credibility. She never questioned his sanity. The only questions she raised were whenever she didn't understand something and wanted it cleared.

He watched her reactions all the while. She gasped, she jerked, she nodded, and she patted his head when appropriate. But, he noticed above all, she had no reaction at all at the mention of Ebrietas. It was as though she forced herself to not give him anything to read off of.

While the sun had set a few short hours by the time they came home to the abandoned church, he had finished his stories by the darkest hour. He felt exhausted. And not just because of his training with Aiz Wallenstein or the meeting with Annalise. Having to share these events with his goddess tired him in a way it was as though he were going through the hunt all over again.

And that was the response she had in the conclusion.

"You're not going to ask how?" was all he could come up with to retort.

"What way?" she pressed. "As in how she was alive that entire time? How time was reversed at the altar of that petrified giant spider thingy? Or how you knew which part of her was still 'her' when all her grossness was all over the place? Really, Bell, there were how many chunks in that throne room and you just happened to pick up the right piece?"

He scratched the back of his head in silence.

"I… I don't know," he admitted. "To all those things. I remember… Gehrman telling me to 'ascend Oedon Chapel' at the earliest stages of the hunt; and this was long before I found my way into Cainhurst. But I don't know how it worked… or even if it would at all. And I don't know how I knew she was alive. I… just did. Something was telling me."

"Regardless," Hestia sighed as she placed her fists on her hips, "you felt obligated to give her that ring as an apology. That's where you made the mistake, Bell. You cornered that woman into a position she couldn't refuse."

"I didn't know it was something for marriage!" he blurted out with a reddened face. "I found that ring in the Pthumerian Tombs and thought it was the most expensive thing I've seen. I thought it was fit for a queen. That's it. Honest…"

Hestia gave him a worried look. She was pitying him with those eyes! He meant it! Marriage rites back in his farming village were a lot more blunt. If someone wanted to marry someone, they would ask the other person or their families. No one in his village was rich enough to acquire a diamond ring! Even a band of silver was outlandish! The concept of offering jewelry like that was inconceivable!

"Don't worry, Bell," Hestia huffed. "Your goddess will handle this. This is all nothing but a misunderstanding. Besides, you belong to me. Even if you wanted to get married I wouldn't allow it."

"…Thank you?" he said the words but wasn't sure what tone to use.

"Just so we're clear," Hestia gave him a level glare. "You feel nothing for that woman?"

"W-What?" his blush returned. "No, goddess! I mean… Queen Annalise is pretty. I never got to see her face without the helmet. And she seems really nice. She has this mature and sophisticated aura around her. B-But it's not like I want to marry her or anything!"

He felt like he did something wrong. The look his goddess was giving him screamed bloody murder. He should apologize… even if he didn't know what he did wrong or why she was so angry at him. He told her what she wanted, didn't he?

"Just stay away from anything relating to Cainhurst for the time being," she huffed again, turning so she wouldn't look at him. "Honestly. I'm pretty. I can be mature when I want to be. And I'm nice."

He had no idea what she was rambling on about. By the sounds of it, it was as if she wanted to be married to him. There was just no way. Gods and mortals loving another was just impossible. Gods were above mortals for a reason. And while there are stories of mortals having something with gods, they were never on equal terms with them just as partners in holy matrimony should.

"Goddess, I don't plan on leaving Orario," he said to her.

She stopped her ravings enough to glance at him through the corner of her eye.

"I live here," he continued, taking the chance to look at his surroundings. "I made this city my home when I decided to become an adventurer. Everything I want to be is found here. I still want to become the hero like in Grandpa's stories. And… I would never have this chance without you. I promised to never leave you no matter what, Hestia."

Her eyes widened as she turned her head to look at him. He could only offer her his sincere smile, solidifying the weight of his words. He had spoken from the heart.

"Bell!" she gasped and threw herself upon him, wrapping her arms around him and nearly tackling him down. "That's not fair! I can't be mad at you if you say things like that! Just… promise me again. Promise me you'll never leave me. Not for Cainhurst. Not for anything."

He wrapped one arm around her waist while patting her head. "Yes, goddess. I promise. You're my family now. I will never leave you."

He held her like this. His precious goddess. He meant it in every sense when he said she was his family. When he came to Orario and no one wanted him, she was the only one to accept him. She was the one who gave him a home. They struggled together in their poverty. There were good moments, some bad ones, and all else in-between.

She meant the world to him. He promised to never leave her… as well as to never lose her.

"There's still more, isn't there?" she asked once their moment passed.

"…Yes," he breathed out and pulled himself away. "The night was long. There are a lot of things I committed to. I will tell you everything, goddess. It will take some time. But just know, I'm still the same person who joined your familia. I'm still Bell Cranel."

She nodded in grim acceptance. It was too late in the night to delve any further. Sleep deprivation would falter her memory. She wanted to be fully attentive during their next discussion.

"We should go to bed before it gets any later," she said while glancing around.

What remained of their dinner was still sprawled over the small table. They nodded to each other and went to work cleaning up their abode. They gathered the garbage, brushed their teeth and washed their faces, and dressed in separate rooms for the night.

"Bell, come here," Hestia called out to him when he was about to pull his blanket from the corner of the room. She patted the bed she sat upon. "I want you to sleep here instead."

He looked around the room. There was no one else present. He turned back to his goddess and pointed at himself, trying to confirm he was the one she was addressing. She nodded a few times and patted the bed again.

"I can't do that!" he waved his hands around frantically. "That bed is for you! I'd feel awful if I knew you were sleeping on the couch."

"That's fine," she waved it off casually. "I'll be sleeping at your side."

All thoughts within him came to a screeching halt.

His face burned as a single image came to his mind. When a man and a woman were under the sheets together. It was the sort of thing only couples should be doing behind closed doors. And to be doing that with his goddess…

"W-W-W-W-W-We can't do something like that!" his face was burning as his back instinctively pressed itself to the wall. "C-C-Couch! The couch! I've always slept on the couch! You slept on the bed! That's how it's always been since time immemorial!"

"Bell… we've been a familia for three months," she said in a slow voice. But then, the fire returned to her voice, "I figured something. These traumatic experiences have been giving you nightmares ever since the Minotaur attack. At first I thought it was just that but it's really you remembering that other place, isn't it? And I'm always having to crawl under your blanket to calm you down.

"So instead of waking up halfway through the night, I'd figure I'd skip that process and just have you with me at all times! Yes! I have no ulterior motives about this! I'm going to be snuggling with you purely for your mental health!"

He hadn't forgotten those times she had snuck onto the couch with him. She was completely right. On those times he was remembering the Dream and Nightmare, he was tossing and turning in the real world. Hestia had seen this since they shared the room and had tried to comfort him back to deep slumber. How many times had he awaken with her on top of him?

…Too many for his heart to handle.

"But… we're goddess and adventurer," he tried to argue.

"Then as your goddess I'm making this a demand," she didn't so much as pat the bed as she slapped her hand on the sheets a few times. "It's either here or the couch. Either way I'm going to be sleeping with you to make sure you don't toss around. I'd prefer it to be on here."

He couldn't argue against his goddess when she was being this serious. He had no choice. With a shaking and burning body, he made his way to the other bedside. Together, they pulled back the sheets and entered, though Bell was a lot more hesitant while Hestia waited patiently for him to enter. And even then, he laid himself at the furthest edge.

It didn't stop her from scooting herself all the way to his side and pressing herself against him. She latched herself to him, rested her cheek on his shoulder, and nuzzled herself just right until she was comfortable. Meanwhile, Bell remained as stiff as a board.

"Good night, Bell," she whispered.

"G-Good night, goddess," he croaked back.

After a few quick breaths, Hestia fell asleep. However, no matter what Bell tried, she refused to let go of him. Even when he tried to sneak back to the couch would her grip tighten in her unconsciousness. His enhanced strength meant nothing to the little goddess.

She was right about one thing, he will have to admit. With her at his side, he wouldn't have any nightmares about the hunt.

…Because the feeling of her breasts constantly rubbing against him kept him up throughout the entirety of the night.

0-0-0

"They're at it again," Finn muttered as he sipped his morning coffee.

The sky was starting to gray before dawn. Most of his familia were asleep, including those who were supposed to be on duty— he alleviated those who were starting to wane from the constant observations. The only one who was keeping him company was Gareth.

Even Tione, who had tried to stay at his side, couldn't stand the constant boredom. Her stamina would allow her to remain awake for several days but the idleness was what wore her out. The girl was a warrior who needed action. She wasn't built for this sort of burden.

He hadn't moved from his post other than to use the privy. Food and necessities were given to him by messengers (or Tione to win his favor). He made sure to keep an eye on the activities of Rakia and Cainhurst. Though they had just arrived yesterday in the late afternoon, his notes were filled to the brim with their activities.

While most found this mission issued by the Guild the most boorish, he always found something of importance that needed his full attention. Both Rakia and Cainhurst were up to their own devices. As the one in charge of the operation by default (as in no one else wanted the job and Freya Familia couldn't represent), he had to make sure they weren't trying to blindside the city with these activities. So far nothing warranted him to sound the alarm. But that didn't mean they weren't up to something.

Such as right now, in the wee moments of breaking dawn. Rakia and Cainhurst were having another skirmish. This would be the fifth round since arriving at Orario's border.

"Somethin' seems diff'rent," Gareth, who had hardly glanced at the battlefield while he started to doze off, cracked open an eye and gave his first impression.

"Some of the Cainhurst Knights seemed to have updated their statuses," Finn observed.

"Aye," Gareth yawned, grumbled, and then approached Finn's side to get a better look at the field. He stroked his beard. "But it ain't right. Iz like they achieved a new Level… but not."

They further watched as more Cainhurst Knights charged Rakian soldiers on horseback. The two armies clashed— Finn pondered briefly how many complaints there would be from the noise by the city— and Cainhurst was the first to recover. What he noticed the most were some of the nobility he had marked before with all their assumed abilities had grown exponentially.

He knew what Gareth meant. The Cainhurst Knights were stronger. It shouldn't make sense. No one could obtain that much excelia within such a short amount of time. The amount of increase they were displaying belonged to adventurers who had months of experience in conflict. Not a single day.

The Rakian soldiers didn't seem all that surprised. They seemed better focused and more organized. It was as though they had anticipated this increase in might from their rivals and were prepared for it. Though, that didn't necessarily dwindle their losses.

Finn knew the answer. All the Knights he had marked he made sure to remember how many bodies their squires and slaves recovered. It wasn't missed by anyone how Cainhurst had stolen the fallen bodies of Rakian soldiers in the midst of battle. No one knew what it meant; only Finn.

Vilebloods didn't grow through excelia and falna like adventurers. They grew through blood.

"We can at least say Cainhurst brought their god with them," Finn commented, knowing the words to be false. "But this growth is unreasonable. One or two I might be able to excuse with a skill. But an entire army? Unless… their god possesses a natural talent in these regards?"

Gareth snorted, "Like wha'? Ishtar an' them gals' allure? Or Apollo an' his boys' fire magic? Those're abilities anyone can pick up with a bit o' work, Finn. We're talkin' 'bout half'a Level 'ere."

"I heard a rumor once," Finn muttered. He didn't try to smile for Gareth; they had been working long enough for the man to know they were mostly fake. "There's an adventurer who can temporarily boost another to the next Level with a unique spell. I've never seen it in person, but it can't be as outlandish as this."

Gareth grunted as he went back to the battle. He dismissed Finn's words entirely until he could find an answer for himself.

As Finn watched, he took gradual sips of his coffee. It was bitter and in desperate need of sugar, to which no one had brought with the rations. It was one of the curses of being who he was, he mused. Being a Level Six had stunted his aging process to a crawl while being born as a prum granted him an already youthful body. He was in his early forties and yet his body was equivalent to a child prior to puberty.

It meant his taste buds were equal to a human's at their peak. Coffee was extraordinarily bitter and all forms of alcohol tasted like cough syrup. It was his mental fortitude that gave him the tolerance to handle both of them.

Oedon Beyond knew he needed alcohol to tolerate the memories of the Nightmare, to tolerate Tione's constant attempts to sack his childish figure, and to tolerate the stress of an elite adventurer in charge of the safety of an entire city of tens-thousands.

…It's five o' clock somewhere. How he wished he could trade this coffee with some good ale. Was the Benevolent Mistress open yet? Maybe he should have made Riveria stay while he ran off?

No, he mentally groaned. Her job was just as important. Plus he had an image to uphold. What will people think if they saw someone like him drinking before the break of dawn?

"Finn," Gareth spoke up.

He had his attention. Finn sipped on his coffee again.

"Whaz been goin' on between you and Alf?" he went on. "Since she came back injured, you've been keepin' mum. Don' think fur a moment Loki hasn't noticed."

Had he been waiting this long to ask this? It was an appropriate time— that being the most inappropriate time comprehensible. Finn was tired and distracted. Gareth knew he would put most of his mentality on focusing on the actions of the two armies. He couldn't afford to think about complicated things and would have to give direct answers.

…It was a shame the Finn he knew then and the Finn he was now were too different.

"It's like I said," he said in a grim tone and expression. "One of the Hunters intercepted us while we were down there. We weren't prepared. It was my mistake we allowed ourselves to be separated. What's worse is we got those newbies involved. I'm not sure what else you want from me."

"Does this have anythin' to do with Tiona reportin' to ya directly?" he asked next.

"Is Bete here?" Finn played ignorance and looked around briefly. "No? Good. Do you remember the whole Tomato Boy thing? The newbie we ran into was that boy. He was preparing for the duel against Bete, even going as far as the Deep Down for materials to better his chances. Aiz was so distraught to get him involved against the Hunter she wanted to make it up to him. So she offered to train the boy personally."

Gareth listened fully, "And Tiona?"

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Finn shrugged. "She might be interested in him for all I know. But she came to me and told me all about him. She thinks he might be related to Good Hunter Cranel, the man I told you about before. I think she was trying to find something else about him. I can tell you everything she told me, if you want."

Finn put up a smile this time. Gareth shirked away. It was a smile of someone who wanted to share the pains of another. An impression had been made; Gareth was assuming Tiona had harassed Finn about teenage melodrama.

"We're making sure at least someone is with Aiz at all times," Finn went back to watching the battle. "The Hunters seem to have something against her. Twice in the Dungeons and during Monsterphilia. It'd be better to go after you, me, or Riveria. But Lady Maria always goes after her instead."

"Think they'll try somethin' with this distractin' us?" Gareth asked, gesturing to the skirmish between Cainhurst and Rakia.

"It'd be the perfect time to do so," he admitted. "If they don't go after Aiz, they might try something in the city. It's hard to say. I don't know what their goal is. But I have a feeling they won't be doing anything anytime soon."

"What makes ya say that?"

"A feeling," Finn answered by sticking out his thumb. The appendage wasn't twitching, a telltale sign that showed whenever danger was approaching.

Gareth accepted the answer. He had gone through more than enough experiences based on Finn's thumb alone to know how credible of an answer it was.

Finn finished the last of his coffee as he and Gareth silently watched the skirmish continue. There was nothing exciting to note and even less of anything new. It was all the same they had seen the day before. A few Cainhurst Knights fell but they took scores of Rakian soldiers with them. And whenever a Rakian soldier fell, three other soldiers were there to try and save the body.

That right there brought a newfound battle to the field. They either succeeded… or were thrashed by a Cainhurst Knight when noticed.

It was no surprise Cainhurst had won by the time the sun had risen over the horizon. Technically speaking, the official battle had been called off an hour ago but had resumed when the dead had to be collected. Cainhurst demanded them, Rakia refused, more fighting happened, more dead were created, and the cycle continued.

"Gareth, do you think you can cover for me?" Finn asked suddenly. "Something came to mind right now. It's not all that important but I'd rather get it over with before I forget."

Gareth gave him a look. Finn put up a smile, one of those that tried to assure their friend there was no ulterior motive. Gareth read right through it (as was Finn's intention) and made his brows furrow with annoyance.

"Fine," Gareth grumbled. "So long as you take the lass with ya."

Gareth stuck his thumb out over their shoulders.

Finn blinked, turned… and then blanched.

"Good morning, captain~" sang Tione as she carried a platter in her hands. "I've brought you breakfast. What's that? Bags on your eyes? Captain… were you up all night?!"

This was not what Finn expected. He expected Gareth to go through a completely different approach. Was Finn already this predictable? He really needed to step his game up if he could keep fooling his friends again.

Tione wouldn't tattle on Finn; she was too deeply in love with him to betray him for Gareth. That wasn't Gareth's intention. The dwarf knew this already. He just wanted to make Finn suffer for something he couldn't control or outsmart.

"Et tu, Gary?" Finn laughed lightly.

Gareth's brow rose at the name. But he knew he had won as soon as Finn resorted to name-calling.

"Good morning, Tione," Finn turned and put up his best smile. "Glad to see you're up so early. I was actually about to head into town on an errand. Would you like to join me?"

"Certainly!" Tione leapt at the chance. "But what about breakfast? Shouldn't you eat before you go?"

"Don't worry," he waved it off. "Just leave it for Gareth. We'll pick up something while down there. Just the two of us."

"J-Just the two of us?" she sputtered. "Me? And the captain? Us? Alone? Together? The two of us? Breakfast?! Is this a date? This has to qualify as a date. This must be a date! This is a date! I'm going on a date with the captain!"

"…You're in charge while I'm out," Finn's smile faltered slightly at Tione's behavior as he turned back to Gareth. "I shouldn't be long. Think of it as me needing to stretch my legs."

Gareth snorted in response.

"Let's go, Tione," Finn said as he walked past the girl.

"D-Date?" her head swiveled around as she snapped out of her daydream. "Captain! Wait for me! Coming!"

She turned to follow, realized the platter of food was still in her grip, turned back around, and shoved the load into Gareth's arms. Afterwards she hurried over to Finn's retreating form. His steps were fast in an attempt to leave the camp as quickly as possible. She caught up and he suddenly slowed down to a normal pace.

She was too delusional to figure out he had been trying to escape her and had failed.

0-0-0

Prince Marius entered the tent while a squire held open the flap for him. His cape was missing and his armor splattered with blood. He had returned from the battlefield after claiming twenty vampires and nearly a hundred of their unarmed servants. His expression was a solid grimace as he had to betray some of his knightly vows because of Cainhurst; all so those vampires couldn't claim more bodies of his soldiers.

"Lord Ares," Marius did not greet his god. He merely announced his presence. "What is this? Why have you summoned me so suddenly?"

Ares was a tall god with a divine physique, gorgeous face, blazing red eyes, and a lion's mane of golden hair. His armor was spotless as he had spent his time commanding rather than leading like Marius. He turned to regard Marius with a sneer.

"Be careful with that tone, Marius. I'll excuse your insubordination for the time being. Now, while you were busy lopping heads and losing my men, I took the initiative and concocted a brilliant scheme of my own."

Marius' brows furrowed. Within the tent were only a few handlers; the squire at the front, three soldiers armed with spears aimed and ready… and a Cainhurst Knight tied to a post.

"Well?" Ares cracked a smile, expecting praise from the prince. "What do you think? I launched that attack on those parasites as a distraction. Meanwhile, I waited for one of their hungrier of dogs to overextend and snatched him up! It was perfect for here! They have no castle walls to hide behind! Brilliant, isn't it?!"

Marius controlled his breathing as anger washed over him. His god had just condemned the lives of another few thousand men… all so he could capture one of Cainhurst.

The vampire cackled, "I must admit, Ares of Rakia. It was a brilliant idea. So brilliant I dare say you outshine all other fools before you!"

Ares' smile turned into a snarl as he approached and backhanded the vampire. His gauntleted hand was more liken to a fist than a slap. But the Cainhurst noble was sturdier than any mortal. His head whipped on impact but there was no mark. He looked up at Ares and snorted.

"What is it you want with this man?" Marius spoke before Ares' temper could rise. Unlike Marius, Ares had no control once he lost his patience. "Please don't tell me you wish to use him as a ransom."

The vampire leaned his head back on the post and let out an uproar of laughter, "You Rakian fools know nothing about us, do you? Ransom? I have been captured by the enemy. I can't return a single drop of blood for my Queen. I am an embarrassment to my kingdom. The Queen won't spend a single penny for me. I'd be expecting an assassin or ten from my rivals to hide this humiliation."

Ares snorted this time, "I have no interest in whatever that witch has to offer. No, vampire, what you will tell me before the day is done is the name of your god. Who is it that controls Cainhurst?"

"…Look," the vampire gave Ares a blunt look. "I know I called you a fool earlier. That was just to get under your skin. It's a counter-torture technique. I didn't think you were actually a fool."

Once again, the man was struck. He wasn't smiling in mockery. His expression was dull with boredom. The act infuriated Ares even further.

"Cainhurst has no god," Marius spoke up. "This you have argued with us countless times."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Why is it you have no need of a god?" Marius pressed. "Do Cainhurst soldiers not need to partake in the falna ritual? And if not, how are you able to match us adventurers?"

"Marius," Ares growled. "Have you gone mad? Don't tell me you are starting to believe in their lies."

"The Queen is the only one we follow," the vampire answered. "We are her Vilebloods. Drinking in her corrupted blood gives us strength. By offering blood to her does she grant us more blood to drink from her. Our entire way of living revolves around this. We have no need of gods."

He spat to the side in disgust.

"Is that why you take our fallen?" Marius demanded.

"Yes," the vampire smiled back. "To offer to our Queen. The more blood we grant her, the more she returns to us. To be bathed in blood is the highest commitment we can make for our Queen. That is why I know none of my brethren will be coming to save me. I have failed the Queen as soon as I became incapable of keeping that sacred vow."

"Then I suppose that would make you a… Paleblood?" Marius mused.

Ares turned to glance at Marius.

The vampire did not look at Marius in contempt. His brows were furrowed but his eyes were full of confusion and curiosity.

"…Where did you learn that word, boy?" his voice was low and dangerous.

The reaction caused Marius' brow to rise. "I had assumed since you call yourselves Vilebloods, and based on the way your social status is determined by how much of my men's blood coats your arms, the term Paleblood referred to one of your kind unblemished. Am I wrong?"

"Where did you learn that word?" the vampire urged more strongly. The mythiril bindings began to grind by his efforts. They will hold. But the post wouldn't. His actions were making the soldiers nervous.

"I will answer if you tell me what it means," Marius said plainly.

The vampire stared at him, contemplating whether to share this information or not. He had been open about the procedure of Vileblood rites but was hesitant about something like this. Marius was curious as to why.

"Paleblood," the vampire spoke tensely. "It is the blood of the gods— the true gods. The Old Ones. Our Queen is blessed with it through heritage; just a drop. Not enough to have her blood in its pale color but enough to grant her true immortality. And as we digest it, we obtain a fragment of this blessing, giving us strength. That is Paleblood— the ichor of the celestial entities!"

Ares tensed. His hand gripped the sword at his side.

Marius' brows furrowed. The vampire was finished and was expecting Marius to make do with his promise. There was nothing that truly bound Marius other than his word. He could have ignored the man. But he was curious about something else.

"Last night, when I went to speak before your Queen," he began as he recalled the events. "The boy in her company aside of the High Chamberlain. She called him Paleblood."

"…What."

It was a simple word. And yet, it held such gravity that made the entire room suffocating.

"Who was this child?!" the vampire raved and tugged on his bindings. The post began to creak and bend by his inhuman strength. "Who bears the Paleblood for the Queen to acknowledge?! What is this child?! Tell me, prince! This stranger has no right! That right is ours! We are the ones who will find Paleblood! We are the ones who will deliver it to our Queen! Tell me so I may deliver his head and become King—"

He had been so focused on Marius he didn't see Ares. And Marius had been so startled by the vampire's maddened state he had failed to notice before it was too late.

Ares drew his sword and brought it down with all his might. The sword shattered but had delivered enough damage to tear a chunk out of the vampire's neck. His head fell lopsided, dangling by what remained of the spine and meat. The vampire jerked and twitched, gagged and choked. Blood drenched his ornaments.

Nobody moved as all eyes were locked on their god.

"Lord Ares!" Marius gasped.

Ares tossed aside his broken sword. He remained staring at the cooling corpse of the vampire. His eyes were hardened and burning with a hidden rage.

"Those bastards. Interfering again? What the hell is Uranus doing?"

"…My Lord?" Marius tried again.

"Marius," Ares spun sharply. "You are not to share what you learned here with anybody. Absolutely nothing leaves this room. Do you understand?"

He didn't. But he couldn't go against his god when he was being like this. He nodded.

"Nothing leaves this room," Ares said once more. "Kill these men."

The soldiers tensed and exchanged looks. They all looked back at Marius, awaiting his decision.

"What?" Marius was shocked. "Lord Ares, what are you—"

"Nothing leaves this room," he said one last time. It was a tone that could not be argued with. Knowing well his orders would be carried out, he dismissed himself from the tent.

"M-My Prince…" one of the men spoke in a tone of reasoning.

He felt sick. These were good men. Men who followed orders without question. Men who left their homes and families to follow the unreasonable whims of their warmongering god. They were loyal without doubt.

He did not offer them an apology as he carried out his orders. He couldn't give them an honorable death as every knight craved. The best he could do was give them a quick death.

0-0-0

The morning came, as it always does. Bell had been counting the seconds until his stomach grumbled. That was his alarm, letting him know it was time to get out of bed and start the day. And as though his stomach shared this knowledge telepathically, his goddess mumbled in her sleep and turned over. At last she had let go of him.

How he desperately wanted to crawl over to the couch and go to sleep. But the day was starting and he had an obligation. Today was another day of training with Aiz Wallenstein. He had to meet up with her at the top of the city walls.

Fighting the lightheadedness and black in the corner of his vision, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to prepare.

…His actual wake-up call was nearly drowning when he dumped his head in the bucket of water and dozed off.

Minutes later was he dressed in a plain shirt and pants. His eyes darted back and forth at the small, somewhat growing range of attire tucked neatly in the closet. There was the plain jacket he had started out with as an adventurer, the Crozzo coat Welf had tailored but was shredded by Lady Maria, and the overcoat of a Cainhurst noble. The first offered absolutely no protection, the second provided the most but was riddled with holes, and the third…

The third was the most expensive thing he owned aside from the Blade of Mercy. He'd probably never wear it again for fear of getting a single stain on it. It didn't matter if it had great protection required for a night on the hunt.

He chose the simple brown jacket. He hadn't worn it since finding the Hunter coat. Nostalgia swept through him when he put it on.

"Goddess," he called out softly as soon as he strapped on his pack and tools. He had to hide the Blade of Mercy inside his backpack since the coat wasn't long enough. "I'm going now."

"Haf'a g'd'ay," she mumbled back.

He smiled while watching her fall back asleep. Quietly, he exited the room and shut the door behind him.

He paused when he reached the outside of the church. The sound of his next footstep was off. When he looked, there, placed right under his boot, were a couple of envelopes. He bent over to pick them up and examined them.

The first was white with golden leafs along the edges. The seal contained a bow and arrow with a burning tip. He recognized the symbol but couldn't recall from where.

The second he recognized without a hitch. A brownish envelope with a red waxed seal of two beasts back to back.

The second had belonged to Cainhurst.

Instantly, he retreated back to the church.

"Goddess," he called out as soon as he made his way back to the underground room. He reached the door and entered, "There's some mail I found at the entrance—"

His voice died as his eyes found his goddess.

She was standing near the bed, her hair still loose but freshly combed. She was in the midst of starting her day when he entered. And there, in her hands, had she been flapping the wrinkles out of her dress.

…Right before she was about to put it on.

She stood with only her panties on.

His eyes betrayed him as they made their way from her eyes, to her lips, to the nape of her neck, to her collar, and eventually to her round—

"Oh, Bell," she said with mild surprise. "You're back."

All the blood in his body rushed to his head when those eyes of his found what they had been searching for. It was such a wonderful sight. It was something he had always wanted to see ever since he first met her. It was something that teased him with the way she wore that dress. And here it was.

The fulfillment was too much for his young mind.

He screamed as though he were a maiden who had just been peeped on.

"I'M SORRY!" he shouted and slammed the door.

A moment later, he was back in the room. Bell was sitting on the floor awaiting his goddess' judgment while she sat on the couch reading the letters he delivered. It didn't matter if she had forgiven him and even granted him mercy by letting him sit on the couch.

"Huh, I guess it's that time already," Hestia commented as she finished reading the first letter. "Has it already been a month?"

"W-What is it?" he asked, too nervous and ashamed to look at her in the eye. Not only was he terrified of what she would think of him… the image had been burned into his retinas. If he looked at her, all he would see would be her without her dress.

"Another Gathering of the Gods," she answered plainly, ignoring his moment of self-inflicted distress. "Hosted by Apollo this time. Hmm? This is an interesting spin of things. Bell, listen to this. This time, all the gods are allowed to bring with them one of their favorite children. That means you'll be able to go with me!"

He felt like he should be saying something. Something important was screaming at the back of his mind. But he couldn't focus on it. The image of Hestia was still on his mind. Right now he was struggling to keep his little friend downstairs calm.

Meanwhile, Hestia opened the other envelope and read quietly.

"W-W-What does it say?" his voice squeaked as he studied the ground.

Hestia didn't answer right away. He could only assume she was busy reading.

"Just that queen telling everyone she's here," she said after a long moment. She sounded irritated. Also, unlike the other letter that had been casually placed on the couch cushion, this one had been folded neatly and placed between her breasts.

Bell had noticed the odd habit but instantly went into a frenzy at the sight of what she'd done.

"Bell," she called out.

"Y-Y-Yes goddess?" he said, knowing this was the moment of truth.

"I don't mind that you saw," she said while crossing her arms and legs. "We live together. These sorts of things were bound to happen. Really… I don't mind since it's you. In fact, I'd like you to be a little more direct about it."

"You're right," he bowed his head further. "I should have knocked."

"That's not…" she started but stopped herself. "Yes, you should have knocked. But that's not the point! What I'm trying to say is…"

She tried to find an answer. Nothing was coming to her mind. She ended up searching the room with her eyes as though it was written somewhere. Her eyes ended up locking on the small stash of her collection; small trinkets and her favorite romance novels. Things she had brought with her since Hephaestus had kicked her out.

Something sparked when she remembered a passage from her favorite story, How to Talk to Fair Maidens.

"Take responsibility!" she blurted out. A new bolt of inspiration struck her immediately afterwards. "Yes! This might be the miracle I've been waiting for!"

"…Eh?" he looked up at her with a dazed and lost expression.

"Bell, in times like these, all you can do is be a man and take responsibility," she stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "You've now seen my bazongas! No one, be it in the mortal world or in Tenkai, has ever seen them. How are you going to take responsibility for this?"

"R-R-Responsibility?" his voice was small as his face started to burn.

She decided to take it further, "You do realize I can no longer get married, right?"

"Ehhhhhh?!"

"Well, Bell? I'm waiting!"

He was frantic. Just like her, he searched around the room for an answer. Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything. He winded up bowing his head and playing with his fingers.

"N-N-Normally…" he began while staring at his fiddling hands. "A man would marry the girl he did that to. T-That's what my grandpa says. B-B-But I can't do that! You're my goddess! How about dinner instead? Please let me make it up to you by buying you dinner!"

A bolt of lightning struck her by the sound of his words alone.

"A date?!" she nearly shouted.

"…Eh?" he blinked.

"A date?!" she repeated, moving off the couch so she could kneel in front of him. Her face was dangerously close to his. "This is a date, right?! With you, Bell?!"

"I… I guess?" he leaned back but she pressed closer. "It's the least I can do. Plus… I've been meaning to do this for a while. Since, you know, the last time I promised you got sick."

It was more like she ran away out of jealousy for his two-timing shenanigans. But she wouldn't admit that to him.

She was beaming as she jumped to her feet and threw herself at her closet. She was already grabbing everything she would need— everything she had planned as she anticipated this day for so long.

"Tonight," she turned to him and spoke sternly. "Meet me at the Town Square by sundown. Don't be late."

Stuffing everything into a bag, she hurried out of the room.

"…Eh?" Bell remained on his knees as his goddess' mood swing left him completely confused.

0-0-0

By the time he exited the church was his goddess out of sight. He had no idea where she ran off to. He just hoped whatever she was planning wouldn't get her into trouble. It was all he could do as he stretched and started his morning jog through the same route he took yesterday.

"Morning Syr," he said as soon as he passed by the Benevolent Mistress. As usual, the ashen-haired girl was sweeping the front entrance.

"Bell Jason Cranel!"

He stopped jogging. He wasn't the only one as adventurers and merchants on their way to their daily destinations stopped and turned their heads. All living creatures in the street recognized that tone. It was the sound of a woman scorned. Some remained to watch the drama unfold while others quickly went on with their business to not get involved should things get thrown around.

Bell jogged backwards until he was right in front of the café. He looked up to see a scowling Syr, ridden of her warm smile and replaced with dead eyes. A fist was planted on her hip while the grip on her broom tightened.

"…Jason?" was all he asked.

"You're in trouble, mister!" she barked.

He jerked where he stood. He had never seen Syr like this. She was absolutely angry at him.

"I-I am?!"

She rested a hand on her cheek and gave him a smile. That smile sent chills down his spine. "I had everything prepared for your arrival. I told them you would come and spend lots. I was even willing to offer you something special at the end. But you didn't come."

At first, his mind drew in a blank. But then, like a slap to the face, he knew what she was talking about. With the events of yesterday, he had completely forgotten about his promise to Syr. He had said he would show up at the Benevolent Mistress for dinner and order everything on the menu.

"I-I can explain!" he blurted out while throwing his hands around in fear she was going to throw that broom at him.

He didn't know how tempted she was in whacking him with it. Instead, very calmly, as though there was no harm done, she spoke softly. "Come with me."

She then turned and entered the café. She did not wait for him. She expected him to follow.

And so he did. His grandfather had warned him about a woman scorned. His personal experiences reinforced this claim.

A moment later were they in the kitchens. When she said everyone working at the Benevolent Mistress were ladies, Syr hadn't been kidding. Even the culinary staff were full of young women and girls with each one being as attractive as the maids at the front. When they saw Syr march with Bell in tow, they either averted their eyes or gave him pitying looks.

She led him to a mountain of a disaster.

"W-What is this?" he asked.

"Most of the dishes used last night," she answered with her usually sweet smile she used whenever serving him. "When we were nearing closing time, I told them to stop cleaning since I figured you weren't coming. To make up to me, I'm going to have you clean all of them."

He could only stare in horror at the pile of grime taking up the entire sink and the counter aside it. The stack of plates and bowls and mugs were taller than him!

"I was abducted by the Queen of Cainhurst!" he gave his excuse as though it would save his life.

She giggled playfully, "Oh Bell. You always tell the most amazing of stories."

"B-But, I was!" tears started to rise when she didn't believe him. "Aiz Wallenstein can vouch for me! She saw it happen!"

She giggled some more, "And now you're friends with the Kenki of Loki Familia? Wow, Bell! That's impressive! Just as impressive as when you beat that Silverback all by yourself!"

He sniffed. She… She didn't believe that story? But he did kill the Silverback all by himself! What he didn't tell her was—

"And I suppose you'll next tell me you were the one who slew all the monsters that escaped during Monsterphilia," she put salt in the wound. "And saved Miss Wallenstein when that criminal showed up? You're so heroic, Bell!"

Now he was on the verge of crying.

"I'll come back to check on you in an hour," she said while already leaving. "Don't slack off, Bell. The kitchen staff will let me know! We open soon so we're going to need some of those plates!"

He stared at the exit for some time. His eyes eventually drifted over to the pile of gunk and lingering food stains that had settled overnight. He stared at it as though they would magically disappear if he wished hard enough.

Alas, they didn't. He decided he may as well make Syr happy. He rolled up his sleeves and began to sort out the things that needed to be washed first. He noticed most of the pots and pans weren't present— presumably since the kitchen staff would need them when the tavern opened up as a café. All he had to worry about were the things customers used.

Maybe twenty minutes in did someone approach at his side and join into the fray. He looked and blinked with surprise.

"Yours is truly a perilous task," Lyu Lyon said as she grabbed what he had washed and began to dry. "I may offer you some assistance."

He nearly burst into tears at the kindness. "T-Thank you, Lyu."

"Think nothing of it, Mister Cranel," she said plainly. "While I might disagree with the magnitude of Syr's punishment, I do believe the fault is entirely yours and you should learn to take responsibility for your forgetfulness."

He flinched at her words. It was as though she had read straight through him. Yes, he did forget about visiting the Benevolent Mistress. When the queen released him, it was still early enough to go. He had just forgotten about his obligation.

"Do you know why you must do this?" she asked next.

He frowned in thought while he scrubbed away, "Because… Syr is mad at me? I did make that promise just so she wouldn't get mad at me. I even took her morning rations. And I didn't show up like I said I would."

She nodded but carried on, "There is that. But that is not why Syr is upset with you."

He stopped briefly to look at her.

"She was worried," she answered calmly while continuing to dry. "You are not one to break promises without reason. Syr had been anticipating your arrival all day and grew frantic when the night was drawing on. She will not admit it. The punishment here is not for breaking your promise; this is her way of getting back at you for scaring her."

Ah. Now he felt even more guilty. He hadn't even apologized to her.

"But why would she be so upset about that?" he ended up asking. "I'm just another customer to her. Don't tell me she does this with everyone who doesn't listen to her. Is this really how the dishes get cleaned? Lyu… do you do this too?"

Lyu stopped wiping to give him a flat look. The noise in the kitchen stopped as everyone paused in their duties to give him a flat look. He felt their glares like added weight. The moment passed and everyone resumed what they were doing.

"Yours is truly a perilous task," she repeated.

He had no idea what she meant. He considered the conversation finished as he went back to work. He soaked the thicker of grime in the sink while scrubbing away at the others before handing them over to Lyu to dry and stack. A kitchen worker came by every so often to take a pile off of the counter for them to use. Every time they did… they gave Bell the oddest of looks.

"Say, Lyu," he spoke up suddenly.

She gave him a sideways glance.

"Is there any way I can talk to Eileen?"

She considered the request for a moment, "I'm not sure if I will be able to get ahold of her. She is rather elusive. What is it you want from her?"

His head bowed slightly in depression, "T-Then, it's alright. I understand. I don't even know what your relationship is with her and I've already asked so much from you. It's just… I could really use her advice right now."

"Do you not have teammates?" she asked next. "That young man you were with; he seemed capable and willing to listen to you. Are you unable to reach him at the moment?"

"Djura— I mean, Welf is busy being a blacksmith," he answered with a perplexed expression. "But, that is, he and I aren't as close. I met him before and we only joined up this one time because of it. Sure, he's a part of my team now but… It's just… Eileen. If there's anyone I know I can rely on, it'll be her. She saved my life a few times and I did the best I could to help her. I am who I am today because of her. I just… miss her."

Lyu said nothing as she worked meticulously. It reached a point where she had nothing else to dry until he finished his next batch. But she didn't leave his side to pursue a new task in the meantime. She remained in his company as she thought in silence.

"I'm sorry, Mister Cranel," she said eventually. "I cannot promise such an arrangement. However… I am familiar with her way of thinking. If you are willing to share your burdens with me, I can at least try to offer sound advice."

"R-Really, Lyu?" he looked up at her.

She nodded simply.

He went back to his work. He didn't divulge anything right away. He needed the moment to collect his thoughts.

"I… don't think I should be fighting the Hunters," he admitted.

"And what brought this on?" she asked. Her voice had been as flat as usual but there may or may not have been a tinge of curiosity. He wouldn't know.

"I'm not saying what they've done isn't wrong," fire came to his voice, but along with it was doubt. "At least, not since they showed up here. Lady Maria was behind Monsterphilia and I can't forgive her for that. And two others took advantage of my Supporter to get to me. I'm not sure if there are others with them but… they did it to get to me.

"I'm worried they'll hurt my friends. I'm worried they'll get innocents involved. What if they go after my goddess next? What if—"

The plate she had been drying snapped in two by her grip. Her eyes remained unchanged as she gently placed the pieces to the side.

"You're saying you should hand yourself over to the Hunters?" she more stated than asked. "That if you give them what they want they will leave peacefully?"

He didn't have a response to give.

"Your fears are understandable but that is no reason to falter, Mister Cranel," her voice was firm as she looked directly at him. He stopped looking to return the gaze. "Remember who gave you that weapon. There lies a mantle that bears no honor. No one will thank you. You will make many enemies along the way. But it is a duty that cannot be discarded. If you permit these beasts to roam without fear, who then will be there to stop them?"

He was left reeling from her words. They struck a chord with him. He had never felt such a fire from her before. It was as though he were speaking to Eileen directly.

He couldn't help but wonder… had she been speaking through the wisdom of Eileen or from personal experience? Her emotions were too attached to the subject.

"You're right," he said after nodding. "I can't stop now. A Hunter must hunt. They're already too far gone to be reasoned with. Thank you, Lyu. I feel a lot better now."

She nodded once seeing him in better spirits. They went back to their gruesome task. No further words were needed between them.

"Oh wow, Bell," Syr came in shortly after wearing a fake smile. Bell wouldn't notice; Lyu did. She also knew the tavern girl had been eavesdropping on their conversation around the corner. "You got a lot done! I honestly didn't expect you to do this much in such short time."

"I was just… doing what I should," he offered, completely ignorant of her behavior. "Listen, Syr, about last night…"

"Don't worry about it," she waved it off. "I was only teasing you, you know. I didn't actually expect you to clean the dishes! It's no good to be such a pushover. Girls like men with a little backbone in them."

He gave her a tense smile full of conflicting emotions. Lyu gave her friend a deadpan look while he couldn't see. She knew Syr was going to make him clean no matter what. Whether as punishment or as a favor since Anya and Chloe had been sick since last night.

"This is for you," Syr stepped up and handed Bell a neatly wrapped bento. "Thank you for all your hard work. I put a little something extra in there just for you~"

"Y-You didn't have to do that," Bell stammered and blushed. "Really! I was the one at fault! I should have made do with my promise. And I'm sorry for making you worry!"

"Hmm? Worry?" Syr put a hand to her cheek and shot Lyu a look. "What are you talking about, Bell? I wasn't worried; I know you had your reasons for not showing up for dinner. You're more of the sort to dine-and-dash."

He jerked as though stricken.

"You're free to go," she said next. "Unless… you'd like to stay and eat that with me? You don't have anything more important, do you?"

He nearly gave in. He had opened his mouth to protest and accept her offer. Syr was the one who received the most amount of tips for a reason. Except, something had come to his mind. He stiffened and visibly paled.

"Wait. What time is it?!" he blurted out with his head swiveling around the room. One of the Nameless Cooks pointed at the clock in the wall for him to track. The time made him gasp and leap a few celch into the air. "Oh no! I gotta go! But I… I…"

His head swiveled once more from Syr, to the dishes, to the clock, and again several times. He was having some sort of inner war with himself over what obligation to take over.

"Mister Cranel," Lyu sighed once she noticed Syr was taking pleasure in watching him squirm. "If you have somewhere you need to be, then you best be off. I can handle the rest and I'm sure Syr will understand. Isn't that right?"

"Just make sure to swing by again sometime," Syr smiled brightly.

"Yes!" he said and then sharply turned on Lyu. "Thank you, Lyu! For everything! I owe you a lot!"

The entire room gasped as the boy grabbed her hands and cupped them between his. The chefs paled in fear, Syr's smile looked murderous, and Lyu's eyes had widened in shock. All the while, Bell hadn't noticed their reactions while he was lost in his own relief.

"T-There's no need," she stuttered— stuttered! Something warm crept up to her face and she suddenly found it difficult to look directly at him. "Please, Mister Cranel, I'm not the sort of person you should be doing this with."

"Eh, but why?" he blinked with those large eyes of his. "I really do mean it. The advice you gave me helped a lot. You really are someone I can rely on!"

Does this boy ever listen to her?! Or was his ignorance and naiveté a curse brought onto her by the Old Ones?! She swore, everything she said pointed him down one direction but he ended up going somewhere else.

He should be holding hands with Syr. Not her!

"Think nothing of it, Mister Cranel," she tried to collect herself. She had gained control of her voice again but the burning in her cheeks wouldn't go down. "You best be off before more time is w-wasted."

…Confound it all.

"Right, right," he nodded and, mercifully, let her hands dropped. He retrieved the boxed lunch Syr gave him, turned, and waved as he retreated. "Bye Lyu! Bye Syr! See you next time!"

Neither of the girls gave him departing words. Lyu was busy trying to rub out the feeling of his grip on her hands while Syr continued to smile away. Someone coughed, triggering everyone else in the staff to return to their work.

"You two seem close," Syr commented with her usual smile.

"It's not what you're thinking," Lyu protested firmly.

"And what exactly am I thinking?" she tested with a tilt of her head.

"I understand your interest in him and have no intention of getting in the way," she stated back. "I would like to encourage the two of you. However… that boy has been challenging as of late."

Syr hummed while she tapped a finger on her chin. The smile dropped. Her eyes were full of hope but skeptical. There was doubt and fear.

"Lyu… you don't have feelings for Bell, do you?"

She didn't need to consider the question.

"Mister Cranel is purely an associate who follows the same line of work as I once did. I want nothing more than to see him succeed where I had failed."

Syr's frown didn't shift, "That doesn't answer my question, Lyu."

The elf gave her friend a long look.

The smile returned, "You're right. I'm just being a little jealous, I guess. You two are always talking and on such friendly terms. He asks for your advice. And you, Lyu, let him touch you. I was a little shocked by that. Do you remember the last person who tried to touch you?"

"…Syr."

"Anyways, Finn and Tione of Loki Famiia are here. They asked me to pass a message from Simon to Eileen. What should I do?"

Lyu frowned at both the inconvenience of meeting with that man again as well as her friend using it as an excuse to avoid their prior discussion. However, it was clear Syr wasn't willing to talk any further. She had no choice but to hear what Finn had to say.

"Tell them I will be with them shortly."