"Eldritch Blast!"

Thankfully, it had only been a dream, and he hadn't actually unleashed the spell. It would have been a nightmare trying to explain the situation to whoever it was that owned this shelter whose walls he had rested against for the night. The old church was run-down, but even then, he didn't want to accidentally destroy it beyond repair.

Wait, what was he even saying? Since when could he even use a spell?

It was completely crazy, but now that he was thinking about it, he knew precisely how to utilise the cantrip known as Eldritch Blast. Just what had that dream even been?

Just before he'd woken up, he had looked skyward while the spell was still gathering its strength, and for brief instants he had seen a massive shape flying toward all of them. In its wake, legions of white specks in the distance had been marching toward their position, ready to assault the castle behind them.

It had felt so real.

Nothing more to it, though. He wanted to learn more about the Pact he had made in his moment of desperation, and now he felt a calling stemming from both himself and his patron to grow stronger, and achieve what he had sworn as his end of the bargain.

He picked up the scimitar that now held only a dull metal sheen, unlike the glorious splendor it had been when he had called upon the power his unknown Goddess had given him. The Hexblade's Curse was still his to use, though, but he knew he had to use it sparingly – simply using it just once had left him feeling drained, and though part of his collapse into exhaustion had been from the Hold Monster his patron had casted through him, just the Curse alone was a force to be reckoned with in itself.

Quickly, he began making his way over to the Dungeon, eager to test his new strength. Even though it was still early in the morning, throngs of Adventurers were already making their respective ways in pursuit of greater strength or treasure.

His plan was simple: he needed some Valis to be able to continue living in Orario, and what little he had saved and made over his past two weeks was quickly dwindling. Today, he would venture back down to the fifth floor, and claim at many magic stones as he could while advancing the Pact in the process.

Along the way, however, someone called out to him.

"Hey! Mister!"

He turned around. There was a silver-haired girl wearing a waitress' apron, leaning over with her hands against her knees, breathing heavily.

"Finally! I've been trying to get your attention!" She took a moment to catch her breath, holding out something in her hand. "You dropped this!"

"A magic stone?"

He frowned. Come to think of it, he hadn't traded in his magic stones since his rush to leave the Guild the day before. He dug a hand into his pocket. Sure enough, the crystals left behind by the few goblins and kobolds he had managed to defeat were there.

Had he dropped one of them by accident?

"T-thanks," he said quickly, accepting the offered stone. It wasn't much to any proper Adventurer, but to him, who previously didn't even have a Falna, it was practically worth a fortune.

"It's my pleasure!" She gave a small curtsy, then tilted her head to the side curiously. "If you're carrying one of those, you must be an Adventurer?"

He was about to answer, when suddenly, he felt the blade strapped across his back stir.

'Be cautious around this one, Hexblade.'

The voice was a deep and rumbling one, completely unlike the gentle, yet firm Goddess who had granted him his Falna. Stunned, and caught out by surprise, he turned around on pure reflex where he had thought he heard the voice come from.

Was that –

Did his sword just talk?

'I am an observer of the Pact, to ensure that you abide by the terms agreed upon, Pactbound. Nothing more. I must confess, though, I do enjoy startling those under my charge.'

"Mister Adventurer? Hello?"

'You're alive?!'

There was a rumbling chuckle. 'My sentience is bound to my true body, forged and tempered within the searing flames of Her Mercy. I am only alive, as you put it, insofar as a breeze is alive before the gale, or as leaves to the mighty oak. Though our merciful Mistress is powerful beyond imagination, there are greater concerns worthy of her attention. For now, I am to bear witness to your deeds, that you do not stray from that which you are sworn, and to determine whether you are worthy of greater power.'

'True body…?' Ever since his close brush with death, more and more impossibilities had been happening to him. 'No, never mind that! What do you mean to be cautious of her?'

'She does not mean harm, I think. Still, this is no coincidence. I have been vigilant since your temporary reprieve from the waking realm, little wyrmling, and I can assure you that your possessions remain very much intact. She has another motive in mind, I believe.'

Wyrmling? 'Why do you call me that?'

'For is that not what you are? You have sworn the common oath of the Ptarian Code as part of your Pact, have you not?'

'Ptarian what?'

'It is not my place to divulge more, little one. Your Pact is yours alone to explore and strengthen.'

"Is everything alright?"

"Eep!"

She leaned in closer, and Bell jerked away. "Sorry!" he apologised quickly, upon seeing her shocked and mildly hurt face. "I was just distracted. What were you saying?"

She giggled. "I was just asking if you were an Adventurer."

"Oh! Yeah! I mean, I guess?" he answered quickly. "Not a very good one, though. I just received my Falna yesterday!"

"Is that so?"

For an instant, a strange emotion flashed across her face, and Bell thought he had merely imagined it. After all, why would a cute girl like her make such a complicated face?

"Which Familia are you from, then?"

"I don't know my Goddess' name, actually." He shifted into his feet remembering the feeling he had felt upon first receiving her power through the Pact. That simultaneous warmth and kindness, and yet fury for those who would encroach upon the autonomy of life was something he would never forget. "She was… she was amazing, though."

Distracted, lost in that warmth he felt, he realised that he hadn't been paying attention to the conversation. "S-sorry!" he said. "Um, thanks again!"

"Wait!" she called out, just when he was about to depart once more. "Are you really going to the Dungeon this early in the morning?"

He scratched his cheek. "Yeah?"

"Just a minute," she said, and fished out something from a bag she carried. "You'll get hungry if you stay there all day, right? Won't you take this with you?"

There was a pause.

'You little ones have such bizarre mating rituals.'

W-w-what?!

He wasn't sure whether he voiced that question aloud, or merely thought it in his head. Regardless, the girl giggled, and pushed the neatly wrapped lunchbox closer toward him.

"I can't accept this! I-I mean, we only just met! Besides, didn't you pack this for your own breakfast?"

"Don't worry about it." She smiled, then gestured to a building just behind, in the direction where she had gone chasing after Bell. "I work here. I can always get something to eat once the tavern opens up."

Hostess of Fertility? Bell had been past the tavern multiple times, but he'd never yet had the time – or any spare Valis – to see what they had to offer.

"But –"

"How about this?" the girl suggested. "You can have this for lunch, and in exchange, you come back here for dinner tonight! Promise me you'll be here, alright?"

He was about to try and make an escape, but just then, she leaned forward, bringing a finger to her lip. "Please?"

And with that, there was no further means be could deny her request. Leaving now and running away would be far too awkward.

"Uhh…" With no escape, there was only acquiescence. "Sure…"

"Alright!" She grinned. "I'll see you later, then!"

Then, she turned around, made her way back to the tavern, and Bell was left standing alone in the street, wondering what he had just gotten himself into.

'Forging another Pact already, wyrmling?' the voice laughed. 'Beware that you do not overburden yourself with the weight of your oaths.'

Now that he finally had a moment to think, Bell could begin to make sense of this newest impossibility – among others – that had occurred to him.

'So… you're like our Familia's captain, uh – Mister Scimitar?'

'I believe an administrator would be a more accurate term in your tongue. Until the time comes that the merciful Goddess deems you worthy of greater power, you shall find no meaningful assistance in combat from myself, save for witty banter and the occasional poignant commentary.' There was a pause. 'And please, little one, for your sake and mine, never call me Mister Scimitar ever again.'

He gulped, sensing the warning in Mister – uh, in his Familia's administrator's words. 'What do I call you, then?'

'That, again, is yours to discover. Abide by the terms of your Pact, and you shall learn of it in time to come. For now, for convenience's sake, you may simply call me the Watcher. Or the Brass Watcher, but I have previously been told that such a title is culturally inappropriate in certain regions.' Through the blade, Bell felt a sense of anticipation coming from his unknown companion. 'Now, make haste for this Dungeon of yours, Bell Cranel. It has been many ages since our Mistress deemed one worthy of becoming her Hexblade, and I am eager to see how you fare in blade and sorcery.'

-x-x-x-

Energy crackled at his fingertips. The sparks flared to life – not quite electricity, not quite light, but instead a wave of radiant force. Harnessing the power, concentrating it as much as he could, he raised his left hand outward, palms directed to the foe in the distance. A circle of rotating glyphs appeared in his vision, symbols he couldn't even begin to identify glowing a soft yellow, but quickly building up in intensity.

"Eldritch Blast!"

Once the charging of the spell reached its zenith, the jagged beam shot forth, and before the goblin there could even begin to react, the blast of otherworldly energy launched it backward. A loud crack emanated from the impact point, followed by a second one mere moments later, as its skull hit the craggy walls of the Dungeon's third floor. It faded into dust, a magic stone plopping lifelessly to the ground, rolling for a short distance before finally coming to a halt.

"No way…"

It was only his first use of the spell, but he could feel the power rushing through him as he tapped upon the well of strength that had manifested within him after his Pact had been forged. The only other time he had felt something even remotely similar had been when his mysterious Goddess had channelled a spell with his own body.

'Hmm. Reasonable.'

"That was only reasonable?" Being alone in the Dungeon floors as they were, Bell felt more comfortable voicing the question aloud.

'The last Hexblade to whom I bore witness was capable of much grander feats, little one. I'm afraid that I have rather high expectations of you.'

Were there others in this Familia that he belonged to? He would have asked that question of the Watcher, but Bell could already guess the answer he would give.

Bending over to place the magic stone in his pouch, he continued deeper into the third floor. In the past two weeks he'd been in the Dungeon, he hadn't had any companions, and now that he had one ever-constant by his side, he enjoyed having the company.

"You know," he said, making conversation with the Watcher. "The dream where I learned that spell was so lifelike. Is this how all Adventurers learn their spells, Mister Watcher?"

'A dream?' Watcher mused. 'Intriguing. I cannot speak for those not subject to Our Lady's blessing, but most of your Pactbound kin before you learn of the powers granted by their Pacts through other means of divination. Indulge in my curiosity, if you would be so kind – what did this dream entail?'

"I mean, I don't actually know," he said, eyeing several passages ahead of him, before selecting one to head deeper into. "I was standing there as part of an army, and there was this great hero like the stories grandpa told me inspiring everyone. Then a messenger came, and everyone got worried, and the hero said something about dracoliches and undead –"

'Dracoliches, you say?' Watcher interrupted, suddenly alert.

"I think so? I didn't actually get to see what those were, because I suddenly woke up right when I began casting the spell."

For several moments, Watcher didn't speak.

"Watcher?"

'They are an abomination upon all that is sacred,' Watcher finally communicated, his tone low. 'It is… fortunate, that the Pact is revealing its mysteries to you so readily, but let us speak no more of such dire matters.'

From the verbose entity who had been idly offering his own commentary since the time he first revealed himself to Bell, Watcher was now solemn and morose. "Is… everything all right, Watcher?"

'Forgive me, Hexblade. But for now, to dwell any longer on the subject goes against the nature of our Pact. If she continues granting you such visions, you will doubtlessly see for yourself why the subject causes me such discountenance.'

Eager for Watcher to return to his previous chatty self, Bell was almost relieved to spy a pack of Kobolds just waiting up ahead deeper into the tunnels. Just a day ago, the sight of monsters would have sent him into a nervous fit, but now, bolstered by his Goddess' might and by Watcher's presence, he no longer feared them.

After all, with their aid, he had braved a Minotaur and emerged victorious, even if it was not performed with his own strength. So long as they were around, nothing could scare him.

'Kobolds exist even here?' Watcher piqued up. 'How fascinating.'

Bell raised his palm forward, ready to take aim, and begin casting yet another Eldritch Blast. Before he could do that, however, Watcher interrupted him.

'As tempting as it is to watch you lay waste to those who would oppress the helpless, I would appreciate observing your skill with the blade before you devolve further into rampant use of Our Mercy's gift,' he commented. 'Many a Hexblade have met with terrible ends due to their overreliance on that single cantrip at the expense of honing their martial prowess, and I would loathe for that to be your fate.'

It took a moment for Bell to comprehend just what Watcher was saying, but eventually, he figured it out. "You want me to fight up close?" he whispered, not wanting to startle the monsters.

'Indeed. It would be a shame for my wielder to be deficient in practice with the scimitar, even if I presently dwell in this mundane body of unenchanted metal.'

Slowly, Bell crept forward, keeping his eyes fixed on the three kobolds ahead. He held his breath, steeled himself, and then with suddenness that surprised even him, leapt out and began the battle.

"YARGH!"

With a battle cry, the scimitar sang as it sliced through the air, kobold flesh parting before its keen edge. Before the other two could react, Bell was already falling into a defensive stance as his first foe dissipated into darkness, ready to respond to their counterattack.

The two remaining kobolds turned their dog-like heads, snarled at him as they raised their hands threateningly toward him. He eyed them with equal intensity, shifting his weight slightly, scimitar at the ready for the attack that would come.

For a moment, they simply stayed there in silence, carefully evaluating one another.

Then, with a sudden howl, one of the two kobolds cried out in terror, and began to flee. The second joined it just a moment later.

Stunned by the sudden turn of events, Bell didn't know quite how to react.

"What?"

'They recognise you for what you are, Hexblade. They are kobolds, after all, and it is in their nature to flee from us or become subservient.'

"What do you mean?"

'Ah, another mystery for you to decipher.' Watcher sounded as though he found something particularly amusing in that sentiment. 'You had best give chase, by the way. It would not be good should such creatures of evil chance upon a target of their ire while we remain here twiddling our thumbs.' A pause. 'Well, your thumbs, anyway. I do not presently have thumbs. Feel free to use that spell of yours, now that they have broken ranks and begun to rout.'

Bell held his palm outward, concentrating.

"Eldritch Blast!"

Guided by supernatural precision, the spell lanced outward, striking one kobold by the shin, causing it to hurtle over, flipping and tumbling against rocks. Another cast of the spell, and the other was likewise struck from behind, its body caving in from the force of the impact.

'Well done,' Watcher commented mildly. 'Retrieve these stones of yours, Hexblade, and let us repeat the process anew. By the time we are finished here, I hope to see you possess at least some degree of proficiency with the scimitar. If I understand your customs correctly, you shall be needing plenty of these crystals in order to fulfil the promise you swore to your prospective mate earlier today.'

Watcher used language that was really hard to decipher. Bell needed a few extra seconds to untangle their underlying meaning, but when he finally did –

"S-she's not a m-mate!"

'Be that as it may, I will not have a Pactbound sully his honour while he remains my charge by disregarding an oath previously agreed upon, Bell Cranel,' Watcher chided. 'Now, venture deeper into the maw of the beast, and let us see if you can rid yourself of your deficiencies with the blade.'

-x-x-x-

"One hundred and seven," Bell counted aloud, as another goblin fell to his scimitar.

Despite how many monsters he had slain, the blade never once lost its keen edge. Even blood seemed to merely flow off from its form, and though it was not shining with brilliant light as it had been the day before, it still remained utterly pristine. The same could not be said of his body, which after hours spent in the winding caverns of the Dungeon, was now utterly exhausted and hungry.

'Acceptable. While you are far from becoming a true master of the blade, you are at least now less sloppy in your movements. Your development is shaping along nicely. Another day or two, and I can foresee your power growing to the next stage.'

"You still can't tell me how I should improve?"

Far from being annoyed, Watcher merely sounded amused, speaking patiently. 'As I have already told you, advancement of the Pact is yours and yours alone. Once you are through with refining yourself in the basics, we shall see about making a Hex Warrior out of you yet.'

"A Hex… Warrior?"

'You cannot seriously mean to enter the thick of battle completely devoid of protection?' If it had brows, Bell could picture Watcher raising them. 'No, wyrmling. Once you are proficient with the scimitar, it will be time to truly arm yourself for battle. Best see to it that you save up some currency, for you will soon be parted from a large sum of it to purchase the required equipment. Perhaps then we shall see about channelling your inherent power through myself as a conduit.'

Finally, Bell could resist no longer. After being subject to Watcher's words for the entire day, he simply had to voice out the question he'd been dying to ask. "Why do you talk so weirdly?"

'I beg your pardon?'

"I mean… you use all these complicated words, and odd ways of speaking! You sound like – like one of those old mages in the legends!" His eyes widened. "You're not one of them, are you, Mister Watcher?"

This time, Watcher gave a full-on bellow of laughter. 'Apologies, little one, but I am afraid I am but a humble blade, sworn to the will of Our Lady. Your tongue is merely unfamiliar to me, and I regret the misunderstanding my poor choice of words may have caused.'

"N-no! I mean, it just takes some time to understand what you're talking about, you know?"

'Others I have previously been tasked with overseeing have suggested toward the same, although they were not quite so brazen as to point it out in my face – at least, not while they were still neophytes themselves," Watcher said. 'Regardless, I hope that our relationship will be an amicable one, Bell Cranel. I do not say this lightly, but you show a great deal of promise, even unpolished as you presently are.'

"You've, uh – observed others in our Familia before, Mister Watcher?"

'Oh, plenty,' he said. 'Her Beneficence's influence stretches far and wide, and many turn to her for guidance. Over the ages, many of her devotees – Hexblades or otherwise – have held me in various forms within their hands. I'm afraid to say that you are not unique in that regard.'

Various forms. Bell still couldn't quite wrap his head around it, but Watcher somehow did not truly reside within the scimitar he held. It was mind-boggling, but many other aspects of his new Familia were likewise a whole new world to him.

'Regardless, I believe it is time for rest and reflection. Let us return to the surface, that you may regain your strength to be Our Lady's agent against the darkness of what you call the Dungeon come the morning.'

"What I call…?"

'We have a different name for it – do not ask, for it is another facet of the Pact to be revealed.'

Bell didn't know much about Familias, but he liked to think that his was singularly unique in how it operated. A Goddess that saved his life, yet did not reveal herself to him, a blade that spoke, yet withheld advice on how he should improve, and now, there was some mystery about the Dungeon that was part of the Pact he had sworn when he received his Falna?

It was odd – but it was also the only Familia that had accepted him, after countless others had passed him by without a second glance. For that, he was grateful, and he swore that he would continue striving to gain more strength, and abide by the pact he had made with his wondrous Goddess.

It took some time, but eventually, he managed to exchange the magic stones he had gathered for Valis over at the Guild. The difference in power between his present self and the one cowering before the Minotaur couldn't be any clearer – in this one day alone, he had earned almost as much Valis as he had slowly creeping along the Dungeon and finding any opportunity he could to strike out at isolated monsters over the past two weeks combined.

Finally, with pockets heavier than they'd been earlier the same morning, he entered the Hostess of Fertility.

'Ah, a tavern at last!' Watcher was almost like a curious child, his voice filled with excitement. 'It has been ages since last I beheld an establishment like this! The last time must have been the Yawning Portal over in Waterdeep!'

'Waterdeep…?' Now once again within civilisation, Bell had to get used to mentally communicating with Watcher through the bindings of the Pact.

'A most splendorous and fascinating city. I believe it to be larger than your Orario. They even had a Dungeon of their own, believe it or not!'

He had never heard of this Waterdeep. In fact, Bell had always assumed that Orario was home to the only Dungeon that existed, but apparently, that was not the case. Watcher sounded like he knew the most amazing stories, if only he would be willing to share them with Bell without claiming that doing so went against the terms of their Pact.

"You made it!" The silver-haired girl greeted him, balancing a tray in her hand. "I'll be with you in just a moment!"

The tavern was already starting to be filled with Adventurers returning from the Dungeon. There were some rookie Adventurers like himself, wearing equally shoddy equipment and glancing about at their far more experienced colleagues, making no effort to hide their awe, jealousy, and admiration. Others were laughing heartily as they went about their meals, regaling each other with the day's work of monster slaying and exploring in the Dungeon.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" The girl returned, bowing at him. "I never did introduce myself, did I? My name is Syr Flova!"

"Oh! I'm Bell Cranel!" Quickly, he retrieved the lunchbox she had prepared, handing it back to her. "Thank you very much for today!"

"It's no trouble!" She smiled brightly. "If you will please follow me?"

She led him over to a seat by the counter. The moment he sat down, and she went off to assist at another table, a plate of food was laid down before him.

"Wha –"

"Eat up!" Behind the counter, a dwarf woman grinned at him. "You're Syr's friend, aren't you? You need to put some meat on those bones, little Adventurer!"

"Wait –"

"Have more!" A second dish joined the first. "You must be famished after spending all day in the Dungeon!"

"W-wait! I didn't order those!"

'It appears that she is pushing the terms of her own pact unto you without your explicit agreement, if I understand the nature of business transactions correctly. Is this a part of your local customs? I do not recall this being the case in Waterdeep.'

'NO!'

'Hmm. Curious.'

The tavern owner just continued grinning at him, and he was too embarrassed to decline the food she'd pushed unto him. Accepting defeat, he began to eat. At least he'd managed to earn a decent amount of Valis over the course of the day, and could afford to cover the meal.

He had to admit, though – the food was delicious. It had better be, considering that he was spending plenty his precious limited Valis on such luxury.

'She is an odd one.'

'Huh?' Partway through the meal, Watcher abruptly spoke up when he'd been content to remain silent. 'Who, the tavern owner?'

'No,' Watcher answered. 'The girl. I believe she named herself Syr Flova.'

'Syr?'

'Perhaps I am simply unaccustomed to Orario, but there is something about her that smells off, even if I cannot put my snout of brass on it.'

'Snout…? Wait, Watcher, you can smell?'

'It is a figure of speech, little one, albeit one that does not translate well to your tongue,' he commented dryly. 'Still, she does not give the impression that she seeks either of us harm. Perhaps age is merely catching up to me. It has been a while since I was reforged and sharpened. Do feel free to ignore my ramblings, Bell Cranel.'

'Uh… do you really have to call me by my full name, Watcher?'

'It is your name, is it not?' he asked rhetorically. 'Then I shall continue to address you by it, Bell Cranel, of the blood of Cranel, Pactbound to Her Mercy, first among your kind. There is much power in names, and I will not embarrass myself by failing to properly address a Hexblade of my Mistress, even if you are presently barely more than a neophyte.'

…yeah, Bell didn't know why he even bothered asking. He settled back into eating, savouring every bite for every Valis it was worth.

Time passed. Then, he heard the doors to the tavern open, and one by one Adventurers around him began to mutter and point fingers in that direction. Curious, he glanced over at the newest arrivals.

'Ah, yes. I recognise that one. It appears many of your kin do as well.'

'The Loki Familia?!'

'I do believe that she – how did you address her again? The Sword Princess? Regardless of her title, she arrived when your frail body was overloaded by Her Mercy's abundance of power, and brought you out of the Dungeon during your brief sojourn in the dreaming realm. The one you called Eina was lax with the details, but she slew many a goblin on the way out.'

Oh, no…

'W-wait, so you mean she actually carried me out? While I was unconscious?'

'Yes, that is indeed the case, wyrmling. Apologies; I did not realise that my words had been imprecise, earlier. I shall endeavour to provide greater clarification in the future.'

'No, that isn't – I mean –'

'To be precise, she carried you beneath her arm, blade wielded in her other hand, and exited the Dungeon with haste after making certain that you had not yet been met with death. Upon delivering you to the one known as Eina, she spared a moment further to make certain that you were in safe hands, before departing once more to rejoin her comrades. I do believe she made mention of possible Minotaurs on the loose as well, but I am afraid she was out of earshot by then as your limp body was carried to the infirmary.' He paused. 'I trust that this recount is now sufficiently detailed, Bell Cranel?'

'No! I mean, yes! That's enough, Watcher! I don't need to know any more details!'

Gods, what kind of impression had he left on Ais Wallenstein, the Sword Princess herself? He hadn't considered it earlier when Eina made mention of it, but with the additional details that Watcher provided, it was becoming painfully clear that he had been nothing more than a burden that would have become food to the Dungeon's monsters had she not arrived. To say he was embarrassed would be putting it mildly.

Hurriedly, he lowered his head, desperately trying to avoid her eye, and those of the Loki Familia members.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed that even though he tried hiding himself, it was inevitable that his weakness would become the subject of discussion for a Familia as powerful as theirs.

"Come on, Ais! Tell everyone the story!" A slurred voice shouted, slamming a tankard on the table. Eyes turned toward the sudden outburst. "You know, the one where some kid was about to become goblin food because he took a nap in the Dungeon!"

He flushed, and leaned further toward his plate, hoping that his position at the counter was enough to hide him from attention.

"Bete," he heard a voice from the table warn.

"Come on, Riveria! It's funny! So the kid was just lying lost in dreamland, while goblins started slowly creeping in toward him! Ais was only there to kill a Minotaur she thought she saw escape, but she ends up saving this kid! There wasn't even a Minotaur on the upper floors! It's pathetic! If you're not taking the Dungeon seriously, why even bother entering?"

Damn it. As if Bell hadn't questioned himself that every single day, up until he received his Goddess' Falna that was unlike any other. He knew he was weak. He knew he had no right to be in the Dungeon. He knew he was pathetic.

But not anymore.

He had bared his soul to his Goddess, and had been judged worthy. That had to count for something.

'Hmm. An inaccurate retelling, actually. The goblins were not creeping in; they were already well on the warpath.'

'Watcher?!'

'Rest assured, Pactbound, I would have roused you had the situation been dire, or taken them to the blade myself. Though the Pact requires that I not intervene directly, there are extenuating circumstances given that Her Mercy flooded your body with more power than you could handle. The arrival of your rescuer was most fortuitous.'

Behind him, the conversation continued. "Are you joking, Ais? Of course you're mistaken! We searched for hours, and there was no Minotaur there! And check this out, guys – the dumb kid apparently doesn't even have a Familia! No one could find records of which Familia he belonged to at the Guild, so they just up and left him in one of their rooms!"

'Ah, another untruth. Or perhaps a partial truth? You do now owe your eternal servitude to Her Mercy as part of the Pact, even if you previously were not sworn to her. Semantics, I suppose – is he referring to you at the time you entered the Dungeon, or at the time when you were brought in by his comrade in arms? I see why you earlier appealed for me to be precise with the specifics.'

'…you're really not helping, Watcher.'

'My apologies. It is difficult to fully appreciate the intricacies of your local customs, Hexblade.'

Still, Bell was thankful for his presence. Had he not been around, Bell would likely have done something foolish like confront the Loki Familia member (and likely be badly beaten, or worse), or enter the Dungeon to begin another frenzied training session (which in his present battered state, was not the wisest decision he could make).

"You can't be serious, Ais!" Behind him, there was a slam on the table. "There's no way that a wuss like that who isn't even Level One can take down a Minotaur on his own! If you ask me, I'd say that loser knew how pathetic he was, and was just begging to be killed!"

'Quite the contrary, actually. I do believe that Her Mercy heard your pleas for salvation, and granted you deliverance in your time of need. I would also say that you are not as pathetic as he claims you to be, but I see why a statement as subjective as that leaves much ground for continued argument.'

In spite of himself, and the continued retelling of his moment of weakness behind him, Bell chuckled. 'You really are one of a kind, Watcher.'

'Have we not already established that back in the Dungeon?' he responded with mock affront. Bell only snorted louder.

"You alright there, kid?" Over at the other end of the counter, the owner – who Bell had learned was called Mia Grand over the course of dinner – asked, a single eyebrow raised.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Just, uh, thought of something funny."

'You're going to make people think I'm insane.'

There was no delay before Watcher responded. 'More than you already are? A tough feat to manage, I am afraid.'

"Okay, then," Mia said slowly. She stepped a little closer, and hesitated for a moment, before leaning over. "If you're not comfortable with them around, kid, I can see if Loki and her kids can get the loudmouth to stay quiet. Trust me, he does this all the time."

Did Mia suspect him of being the Adventurer that was currently still being ridiculed? She was sharper than Bell had thought her to be.

"I'm fine," he said, looking up at her. "More than fine, actually."

He had been weak. He had been pathetic.

But he had sworn to his Goddess that he would become strong, and be her instrument of change upon Orario. Even if he was not bound by the Pact, he would still see it done.

"Thanks for the meal, Miss Mia," he said, emptying a sizable handful of coins on the table. "I'll be heading off, now."

'You handled that surprisingly well, Hexblade,' Watcher spoke as he stood up and began to leave. 'Some of the more extreme Golds might have risen up to his taunts and demanded a challenge for a perceived sully to their honour, but I see you are a Silver at heart. Perhaps a Bronze or Copper, or a Brass like myself. Mayhaps a Steel?'

'What are you even talking about now?' he asked, exasperated. He gave a final nod of thanks toward Mia and Syr, and began making his way out toward the door.

'Ah, little Hexblade, you still have so much to learn,' Watcher said mysteriously. 'Alas, to tell you directly would be infringing upon the nature of the Pact. I can only hope that comprehension soon dawns upon you.'

'…I don't say this enough, but you really one of a kind, Watcher.'

'I shall take that as a compliment, and offer my thanks in response, as is custom.'

Chuckling, Bell reached over to his back, adjusted and secured the scimitar within which Watcher observed all that Bell did, and left the tavern, ignoring the continued commotion from the Loki Familia as they finally saw fit to restrain the one who had too much to drink.

The Dungeon could wait. For now, he would rest, reflect, and hope that his deeds and efforts thus far were sufficient to warrant a further one of his Goddess' boons.

Behind him, he missed the pair of golden eyes that widened in recognition as he left the tavern.