To Be a Hero Is to Die For Our Sins

by A.Al 9

Bell wanted to be a hero. The world is cursed, twisted, and ugly. Greed and envy consume, and wraith and pride hold sway. From this world to the next, all is tainted. And, as two lands collide into a terrible collage, any peace Orario had known will be swept away in blood. For a hunter is truly the catalyst of all wrong. Even still, Bell wanted to be a hero.

4. Third Day: Early Benign Conflicts

Third Day: Early Benign Conflict

---

Morning, a time that follows the black bleak baron dark of night.

In the entire city of Orario, all could see the red and orange hue which so greatly follows the rising sun, staining a once dark sky. Very few ever truly take time to consider the occurrence of dawn, how, like a dam, it opens up to make way for an ocean. Black becomes blue, bleak becomes bright, baron becomes blossoming, like a wave crashing over the world, inverting existence itself.

Yet, most of all, is death, becoming life. The dark is cold, and the day is warm, flowers shrivel up from the lack of sun, and bloom once again come morning. People sleep come night, the closest to death anyone could get. Similarly, people wake come morning, most similar to birth. The cool breeze seemed to breathe in life like how one breathes for life. It is true, with day comes life.

In stories of literature and of heroes, how often is it that the coming of a new day would signify birth? Not just that, but overall, peace and prosperity. The conclusion of conflict, the creation of cheer. A proper setting for a climax.

Yet, in the Hestia Familia home, when morning dawned, only mourning dawned upon them.

Within the Hearth Manor, all of the Hestia Familia members, barring one, sat in silence in the main living space of the home. All pointing toward a table in the center, a set of couches lay evenly spread. On the largest couch, of which there were three available seats, Welf, the blacksmith of the Hestia Familia, sat on the further rightmost spot. To the red-haired blacksmith's left, the farthest left spot, parallel to him, Liliruca Arde, or simply known as Lili' or Lily to her Familiamates, sat. Her tiny form, being the Pallum she was, did not hide her clearly expressed frustration, as much as her closed eyes and shut mouth. Though it would've been enough, her poker face held strong from her years, the tightening grip of her crossed arms showed all that needed to be known about her current thoughts.

Just opposite the two of them was another couch, smaller, with only two possible spots to sit on. On one spot was the captain of the Hestia Familia, Bell Cranel, sitting straight up. He sat on the edge of the couch, stressing his back and forcing his neck to hold his head high, whilst he himself looked around with worried eyes. His thoughts, conversely to the short Pallum who sat in front of him, were clear to everyone present. Yet what exactly he hoped to gain from his wandering eyes, not even he could tell.

Right next to him, was the namesake of the Familia, the Patron goddess of hearth, home, and family, Hestia, the virgin goddess, so often bubbling with life and excitement. Indeed, on any other day, to have almost all her Familia together in one play would have delighted her to no end, especially being sat next to her beloved Bell, with no protest from any of the other girls of the Familia. She would bubble about, perhaps make some tea for everyone to enjoy, and demand that they listen to all her gossip on the other gods and goddesses she knew. This is what should've, and what normally would've, occurred, but now she sat in silence, her face downtrodden.

On the virgin goddess's adjacent side, on a small couch that only had a single seat, the woman of eastern descent, Mikoto, sat alone, her face and body portraying not a thing of what she was currently thinking.

Though a lot was to be said, it seemed not a soul had the desire, or will, to speak out. Not even the ever-so-passionate captain, who seemingly quelled whatever words he would so commonly speak the moment they come to mind, by scratching at the cushion he sat on.

They sat in silence, not one standing from their spot, with the only movement being of the rising and fallings of their chests, and the occasional fiddle or fidget.

Off to the far side of the couches, high up on a wall, was a large clock. Its hands pointed toward morning hours, and the ticking of its seconds pierced the heavy air. The clock edges were fine and clean, made of luxurious gold, shining and reflecting the light which touched it. It was rather large too, if someone were to try to hold it, the clock would take up their entire arm span if they could reach it at all. Though it was beautiful in design, the Hestia Familia would've never bought such a thing. Bell was never the one to waste, Lily was too much of a hoarder, Welf disliked things of such noble and bourgeois nature, Mikoto was similar, in that it didn't appeal to her eastern preference of furniture, and Hestia had her own debts to pay off.

No, the clock was simply a remnant of the Familia who had lived in the manor before them, a memento of their struggles and strife. Really, they should've gotten rid of it, and sold it with all the extra expenses the manor had when they first moved it, like the paintings and statues. But, it had all but slipped their minds, this clock. Perhaps it was due to other, more pressing matters that caused them to forget, or maybe, it was the fact that, unlike those paintings and statues, this clock had not a symbol of the previous Familia that they beat to take this home for themselves. A clock is a clock, after all, it is needed to tell the time. Without it, you would be completely left blind, practically. Time was important to know, believe it or not, for events and meetings and such. If someone were to do something, if something were to happen, then knowing when would be crucial. Even if you didn't know the exact time down to the second, it would still be right-minded to, even, at least know the hour. Like now, for instance, as the clock's second hand ticked and ticked until it finally reached the twelve, which stood haphazardly at the clock's very zenith, before continuing to tick onward.

With it, a loud chime could be heard chanting its hourly reprieve, the sounding, the indicator of the dawning hour, came from a small annex beneath the large clock. Hung from its nadir, the only reference to the previous owners of the manor, something so uncertain to that fact that it could easily be dismissed as just another fashionable choice, completely unrelated to anything but looks, was the sun. A recreation of the sun, equally as golden, but not as reflective, as the clock's circular edge. The chime could be heard behind it, beckoning the tenth hour of the morning.

It rang, the chime, and it rang again. It would ring another eight times, before stopping. From her spot, sitting with her eyes down, Hestia heard every toll, and with each one she regretted more and more not getting rid of it.

As the final chime of the tenth hour vibrated throughout the walls, before settling and dying away, leaving only the soft clicking of the seconds, someone finally spoke.

"I told you. I always tell you, but no one listens to Lily." Said the Pallum, releasing her hands from their crossed position, setting them to her side, pushing against the cushion seat, and moving forward to the edge of the couch. "Lily did." She added.

Warn them she had, when Bell brought the stranger from the east into their home, just like the last time something like this happened, with the Xeno Wiene, she alone voiced dissent against him staying in their home, suggesting instead to give him up to some homeless shelter, or the guild, or just to leave him in the streets.

It was during her own time in the streets that left her feeling so woefully apathetic, in some kind of strange twisted fate, it was her very ability to empathize with people such as the stranger which made her distrust him. But no, Bell, as he always had, managed to convince all of them to let him stay. Even she herself could not help but be persuaded, even if it was only just accepting rather than allowing, the man's presence. No, her feelings for Bell once again got the better of her, and she once again allowed something, against her own better judgment, to pass. In a way, she was also to blame for not pushing more for it, but then, how was she, a little pallum, and a sole proprietor of the opposition, ever suppose to manage to convince the rest of the Familia of something like not helping that man, when even their captain was nothing but a naive fool who held his heart out on his sleeve?

Still, however, she felt guilty as much as she felt angry, so she would spare no expense in her words.

"Master Bell? Are you going to say anything to Lily? Or to poor Mikoto?" She pointed to the lonesome girl, who still gave no reaction, but Bell reeled backward as if he had just been struck with something. Like as if Lily had reached into her pocket, grabbed a rock, and thrown it in his direction. "What made you think to help him?"

"Lili'." To her side, Welf interrupted her. His eyebrows slanted, his frustration, like Lily's, was evident, but directed toward her. "Now isn't the time."

"It isn't? Then what, Mister Welf, should we be talking about?" The Pallum spoke with a seething passive-aggressiveness, the sarcasm dripping from her like hot, dense, heavy lead, toxic to breathe in.

Welf grumbled something under his breath. His face filled more and more with scorn, a temporary sort of look, to both what she said, and her tone.

"Nothing. We'll talk about nothing, aye, Lili'?"

"Nothing? Perfect." The Pallum's voice slithered out of her like fire, "Let's have Lily talk about nothing, that would be fine, wouldn't it be? Mister blacksmith?"

"That's enough, Lili'."

"No, I don't think so, in fact, I think this Lily hasn't spoken at all yet, I would prefer that it isn't so that nothing is said."

"Well, I don't think you should say what you want to say, aye?" Welf said as he slammed his hand on the armrest to his side, shaking the whole couch.

From his own little corner, the captain of the Familia looked on at his two lower members with ever-growing anxiety. Bell questioned whether it was his fault they were at each other's throats. Not what inherently caused the current situation they were in, no, but that he had allowed their teasing of one another to continue freely, that it would have led to, just maybe, holding some secret animosity to one another. Bell couldn't imagine it. They were such good friends, all of them, weren't they? Hadn't they fought life and death with each other multiple times? Was it simply a farce? Bell worried, and then he had a thought that made him flush, what if they had never even liked each other at all? Not that they weren't friends with him, his own personal times with them showed how they were all closer than just captain and member, but what if that wasn't true for them to each other? Was their friendliness with each other just something done out of courtesy? Lily did always hate adventurers. Bell had assumed that that hatred died after they became close, but what if she only stomached the others for him?

Bell couldn't be sure, as he had never bothered to check. He felt ashamed for that, he reasoned that any good captain of a Familia would know about those kinds of things, and deal with them before they could reach a boiling point, as they did now. A captain should act like a glue that holds everyone together, and leads them all. Bell knew this, but he only applied it to their time in the dungeon, he imagined someone like Finn, the captain of the Loki Familia, and to whom he admired greatly, did just that. He could hold together dozens of the highest-level adventurers, as well as a hundred more while dealing with whatever comes with being one of the largest Familias. He envied that experience when while compared to himself, he seemed to know everything, and Bell knew not a thing.

So he sat silently, uncertain of what to do, wishing that he had done something sooner. Yet, even now, he couldn't be certain that was the case. For now, there were certain outstanding events that also could've led to their current feelings.

"What about you, Master Bell?"

"W-wah, what?" Bell said, breaking out of this stupor by Lily's sudden address.

"Do you have anything to say? Since Mister Welf doesn't care for a Pallum's opinion."

Said man scoffed. "That's not what I said at all!"

Lily ignored him and focused on Bell, "Well, Master Bell?"

"I... I don't know what you want me to say..."

"Do you know the current condition of poor Haruhime?"

"Her current condition? I don't understand."

"Miss Haruhime is still in a comatose state, yes? When we took her to the Dian Cecht Familia hospital, they told us as much, and that they weren't certain of what else to make of it. Anything about that?"

"N-no."

Lily sarcastically clicked her tongue, "That is unfortunate, well, what about that terrible man who caused all this?"

"Yamamura?"

"That was his name? No matter, that person, letting him into our home, it was an equally terrible idea. Well, Lily has already said what she wanted to say about that, I suppose Mister Welf is right in that sense. What about his condition? Out of curiosity."

"He's... The Ganesha Familia told us he... Well, he died, on the spot, during my fight with him."

"I see, so we are more certain about the condition of that stranger than we are about our own fellow Hestia Familia member? That is unfortunate, this Lily says, terribly unfortunate."

Bell didn't know how to respond.

"Now you're just being ridiculous Lili'." Welf suddenly shouted.

"Well, let's move on to something important, then. Like, getting that quest from the guild canceled, or at least postponed."

Bell looked at her, slightly confused.

"Normally that isn't allowed, but in certain unfortunate circumstances, like a Familia losing a sixth of their members, then there can be exceptions."

"That's..." Bell trailed, "Ya, that's something we should do."

"Fine then," Welf said, "I'll go to the guild right now."

"No." Bell interrupted, just a bit louder than he wanted to, and sputtered, before continuing, "I mean, I should go, I am the Captain, it's only right."

"Bell that's not-"

Before another word could be spoken, a loud banging on the nearby door, the front entrance of the manor, interrupted them. Bell, Lily, and Welf all turned their heads to the door, while Hestia and Mikoto remained in the state that had been in. Their eyes returned to one another, and after a moment of fiddling, Welf stood.

"Who could be knocking at this time of an hour?" He walked to the door.

"Wait," Bell quickly stood, "I'll get it," He said, with an equally quick tone.

Welf, confused, sat back down, and Bell made his way to the door. Without pause, as soon as he reached it, he opened the door, and he was greeted with an unexpected sight.

"Greetings, little Bell. I hope I'm not at a bad time, am I?

"No, of course not, Lord Hermes."

"Wonderful." The blonde-haired god slightly bowed.

"Come in," Bell stepped away from the door frame, making way for the god. Hermes strutted in, in complete contrast to the serious environment the manor once was in, he seemed almost whimsical. The god Hermes was always like that, Bell knew, but it seemed so queer now, that Bell couldn't help but think that it was intentional.

Hermes continued into the living area and stood directly in the center of the set of three couches, just beside the table which lay at the center of them. "Hestia Familia, how are you all?" He bowed his head, "And, Hestia." He turned to the goddess, "What about you?"

The room was quiet, as Hermes waited for a response that would never come.

"Hestia dearest?"

"God Hermes," Lily said from behind him, "Why have you come here?"

"What? I'm just a worried man, coming to check up on his friends. There isn't anything wrong with that, no need to spook this worrisome god with that kind of tone, isn't that right, Bell?"

The boy walked back to the living area, and rubbed his cheek, "I guess."

"That's the spirit."

"Well," Lily spoke out once again, "You've come, now you've checked, and now you may leave, if that is all you've come to do."

Hermes put on a hurt expression, before quickly dropping it. He waited in silence for a few seconds, before reaching for his feathered hat and taking it off, holding it to his chest.

"Look," His voice was lower, his voice shifting to a sudden sincerity, "I know you all are going through a rough time, and I know your troubles, it never gets easy, believe me."

He continued, "I hope you all the best, but I have come here with a purpose besides that." He placed his feathered hat back onto his head, and reached behind him to grab a long object that was wrapped in cloth, which Bell had failed to notice. He took the long-wrapped object and placed it at the table which lay at the very center of the room, between the three couches.

The object thunked to the ground, "I was asked by the Ganesha Familia to bring this to you," He slowly unwrapped the cloth, and revealed a blade, a katana. "This, they said, was a weapon they found near where your little incident happened, at first I thought it belonged to the man you fought, Bell, but then, you do have someone from the east don't you?" He looked at the girl who he spoke about, "Mikoto right? Is this yours-?"

Yet, before he could finish, Mikoto jumped up from her seat. Hermes was so startled by her sudden movement from her once consistent stagnation, that he nearly fell over. Everyone looked at her, even Hestia, as the small couch she once sat on skidded backward, and, not making any eye contact, walked away in an opposing hallway, out of sight.

All was silent for a moment, "I guess not." Hermes broke, still, with a whimsical tone. "Well, I suppose I will just leave it here, then, they didn't want it."

"I think," Lily interrupted, "This Lily should leave as well, I have work I need to do." With that, she said nothing more, quietly stood, and walked to the same hallway that Mikoto walked through.

"Aye, thank you for coming Lord Hermes," Welf said, "But I should get going too, if something happens, I'll be in the back in my smith." He followed the Pallum.

All that remained now in the living area was Hestia, Bell, who had sat back down on the couch, and their new arrival, Hermes, who remained standing.

"Excuse me, Bell."

"Ah, yes Lord Hermes?"

"I need to ask something, it's a matter of importance, you see."

"Ask what?"

"Well..." The god paused, "I suppose I'll just be blunt, how are You feeling Bell?"

"I'm sorry, lord Hermes?"

"Look," He walked to the boy, "It's never easy to lose a member of your Familia. Yes, she is just in a coma right now, and pray to us, she recovers, it is still difficult to think about it. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, and I won't ask, but I want to say this. You shouldn't blame yourself, and most of all, you should take this too hard. From what I can see, from you other members, and..." His eyes trailed toward the goddess who sat next to Bell, "It is very clear this is hitting you all very harshly, and I do hope it hasn't stifled you."

"I... I don't understand."

"Look, let me tell it like this. Do you know Asfi Andromeda? The captain of my Familia? You know how serious she is, capable and strong, why, if it wasn't for her, my Familia would be in the gutters right now, ha... I only slightly exaggerate, but still. When she became captain of my Familia, and mind you, she became captain under very difficult circumstances, the previous captain had died, and she had to take up the mantle, she was very good at it, as if she was born to do it. I knew she would be good, but I never expected what she gave, she was practically perfect. Then, people started dying, and it hit her hard. She blamed herself for it, thinking that, if she had only been better, and if she had taken care of things a little more, then they would be alive now. She nearly wanted to quit being an adventurer altogether, after someone particularly close to her passed, and if I had convinced her otherwise, she would've done just that. It took a long time for her to get over them, and I do not say get over them as in, forgotten, oh no, I remember all my children, as does she." He sat down next to Bell, between him and Hestia, forcing Bell to be squeezed in the side, and wrapped his hand around the boy's shoulder. "What I'm saying is, you have to be strong at times like these, you can't fall apart, especially not now, if you do, everything will fall apart. And, I don't mean to sound impolite, or to speak of that girl as if she has already passed, but now shouldn't be looked at with pain, but with focus, that now you have to do better." Hermes took a long sigh, "Do you understand what I'm saying, Bell?"

"I..." The boy was extremely confused, his face was slightly pale, and his eyes squinted. "I think."

"Perfect!" He stood quickly and slapped Bell in the back, "I'm very glad you are able to see it that way, truly, I was worried that you would be, well, inconsolable."

"Well, it's like you say, lord Hermes. I can't fail now, I still have a way for what I want... What I need to do. And, Haruhime is still alive, so I won't lose hope that she will recover, I'll go today, and see how she is."

"Wonderful idea, you should probably go do that now."

"Now? Well, I can. But," His glance turned to his goddess, "Hestia..."

"Bell," Hermes said, "You should probably leave, I just want to have a word in Hestia, god stuff, you understand, don't you?

"Oh, well... Of course, Lord Hermes, I'll go now then."

"Wonderful, thank you, Bell, and take care of yourself, while I'll take care of your goddess." Hermes added a wink to the end of his statement.

Either from not knowing what it meant, or from not seeing it, Bell gave no reaction, and he stood from the couch and walked toward the main entrance. "Well, goodbye, Lady Hestia, I'm going out, I'll be back before dinner!" He waved, before opening the door, walking outside, and closing it behind him.

Hermes waited, in silence, for nearly a minute. His face, once with a jovial smile, had fallen, his expression nearly looked bitter, and his eyes, previously filled with sincerity, grew a heinous gaze, as he focused his attention solely on Hestia, who had remained silent, and whose head continued to look down.

"Hestia." No response, "Hestia, Hestia, Hestia, whatever shall I do with you? What's the matter?" No response still, "What has gotten you acting like this? Why is it that the Goddess of Hearth and Home, when someone enters their house as a guest, doesn't offer them some sort of tea? Honestly, I'm rather disappointed in that, you made the best tea in all the Heavens, so why is it that you didn't make it today? Are you truly so sad over the loss of that human? Or Renard, or whatever she was, it doesn't matter. Or is it," Hermes waved his hand in front of him, put on a fake hurt expression, and lowered his tone of pitch, "Is it just that you hate your little nephew, oh how terrible, truly, I am just fraught with sadness and-."

"Hermes." Finally, in the middle of his theatrics, Hestia spoke for the first time all morning, sounding like a ghost. "You made it up, didn't you?"

Said god dropped his dramatics. "What?"

"That story, about your captain, you made it up, didn't you? You're always like that, making things up, always being disingenuous."

Hermes's face dropped, and he walked directly in front of Hestia, before pressing his hand to her shoulder, and getting down his knee. Forcing her head up, he looked her in the eyes.

"What's wrong with you? You're a god, of divine blood, why is it that a god looks so pathetic right now? Don't tell me you are truly letting that mortal get to you, they are people, Hestia, they are bound to die."

"But... Haruhime was so nice... And that man, Yamamura, I was so certain that-"

"Well you were wrong, about everything, it seems. Clearly, you should've never come down here, if you couldn't handle it, some random mortal you just met dying."

"But what if..." Hestia's eyes quivered and began to water, "What if it was Bell..."

"Bell?" He chuckled, I see. So that's the issue, not that you actually care about those mortals, but that it could've been precious little Bell who could've been killed."

"No, that's not true, I cared about Haruhime, I cared about him too, I swear..."

"Don't bother trying to jest with the jester, dearest Auntie, don't even try. And trust me, I would be having a different reaction as well, if it was Bell who was hurt, but he wasn't, you hear me? It wasn't Bell!" He shouted, and Hestia became startled, "It wasn't Bell, so it doesn't matter, you hear? That is simply how it is."

Hestia didn't seem bothered in the slightest about his claim. On a different day, she might've wondered why Bell was so important to Hermes, but now, "I'm telling you, that's not true, it isn't..."

Clicking his tongue, Hermes backed away from Hestia, "Whatever you say, Auntie, I'm just trying to look out for you, and Bell, that's all. If you want to be stuck in such a state, so be it, but don't drag him down with you. You hear me?"

Hestia gave no response, and her eyes returned to the floor.

Hermes shook his head, "I'm sure you'll come around, we are gods, we always do." With that, he began walking to the front entrance he once entered from, "I'll leave you to whatever you got going on Hestia, and, whenever Bell comes back, giving his best wishes, would you? Thanks." Saying no more, he opened the door, walked outside, and closed it behind him.

All that was left was Hestia, sitting alone, with nothing but her dreadful thoughts. Yet, something did interrupt her.

From a wall, distant from her, high up it, was a clock with a golden rim, and a sun hanging from the bottom of it. From it, came a chime, then another, then nine more, as the clock struck the eleventh hour of the morning.

.

---

.

In a dark, decrepit, dilapidated room, the greatest, highest of regard, supreme god in all the human world dwelled. In truth, to call Ouranos any of those things, would be a fabrication of sensations. He is, indeed, well respected, that much is true. His words, to almost everyone, gods and man alike, are to an extent revered and adhered to. But, to say he is simply supreme, such a matter of thought, is disagreed with by almost all parties. People, regular people, who have no connection to any sort of Familia, and therein have no legitimate connection with any sort of god or goddess, while would be aware of his existence as head of the guild, would know nothing else, and so to regard him as 'supreme' is not something that they would be keen to do. As for those men and women who are a part of Familias, it would be the only logical conclusion for them to reason that, in fact, it is their own deity who is the greatest, either through thankfulness, a personal connection, be it friendship or romance, or honest reverence. As for the gods, well, it need not be said why they wouldn't consider Ouranos supreme to themselves.

With all this said, you cannot forget that they do actually listen to him, on occasion, and with the support of the Ganesha Familia, there is legitimate prowess behind his will. Yet, there is always that slight, encroachment of doubt, a hint of dissent.

Ouranos sat in the darkness, his old face and grayed hair obscured by a gray hood, his fingers on his right-hand plumbing against his wooden chair, and in his hand, a magical device. The oculus illuminated the dark.

"I will pray for you, that all will go well in your coming days." Ouranos's deep voice echoed, his mouth barely moving as he spoke.

From the oculus, a prepubescent voice responded, "Thank you for your care, lord Ouranos, I hope to bring you good news for the coming days." The light projected from the oculus pulsed with each vowel that the Pallum Captain Finn spoke.

"I will pray for you on that, farewell Finn."

"Farewell."

The lengthy conversation between the two had concluded in a neutral, rather respectful mood, however, in truth their conversation had been filled with a hidden type of distrust. Not distrust in a sense of how you might look into the dark which prevented sight, but how you would feel when a stranger suddenly walked up to you and demanded your attention. Not to say they were strangers, the god Ouranos and the Loki Familia, Finn included, had been partnered for over a decade, since they first rose into power. They weren't strangers, but, in terms of how aware of each other's thoughts and intentions, they might as well have been in fact, strangers.

Ouranos put his faith in Finn all the same, for no matter what Finn's intentions were, he had proven himself to be a man of proper morality, or at least Ouranos hoped.

As Ouranos put away the now dimmed oculus, from the shadows from the far opposite wall of Ouranos, a figure cloaked in black approached the god. With each step, an unnatural clatter was heard, and Lord Ouranos could tell from that without even looking that it was his most loyal follower, Fels.

As Fels got within a few feet away from Ouranos, he removed the black hood that covered his skeleton face and dropped to a knee. "My lord." He said.

"Fels, it's a pleasure to see you once more, how have you been doing, my old friend?" The elderly god asked.

"I am as I always have been, for the past one thousand years," Fels replied with a humorous chuckle, "But, for all your divinity, it seems you get older and older each time I come here."

"Nonsense,"

"From the ever-growing amount of gray hairs on your face, and the weary look in your eye, I would doubt that it is nonsense."

The god shook his head, not in disapproval, but in a melancholic acceptance of the accuracy of Fels's assessment of him, and smiled. "I must admit, managing for a whole city, and its million-some inhabitants, can make even gods feel like nothing but mortal men."

"Indeed my lord."

"How are my people? Is Orario the continually thriving city I had wished it to be?"

Fels audibly laughed, his skeleton head flinging back slightly, "Indeed! All is well, it is an Eden to the world, with peace and nothing wrong. No one is suffering, and all live in joy. Thank the gods."

You might expect Ouranos to have had some sort of positive reaction to Fels having gone along with this sarcastic question, yet the elder god only exhaled, and lost his smile. "From how you describe it, you make it seem like Orario is the worst place to live."

"I wouldn't say the worst, my lord, I don't doubt that living in a swamp, or perhaps on the edge of an active volcano, is worse."

"So you say... What have you found?"

"The people are restless, uncertain, they are losing faith in you, my lord."

"Losing faith?" Ouranos questioned, "Do they forget that I am, in absoluteness, a god?"

"Not that, my lord. Rather, they lose faith in your ability to maintain the city."

Ouranos exclaimed, "That's even more preposterous, I have managed this city for a thousand years, and it lasts. There may have been some lower points in its history, but really, what does that concern them? I may joke about it, but Orario is far more peaceful than it was ever, especially when compared to other cities. Don't you agree, Fels? Haven't I taken good care of this city?"

"Indeed, I was there, my lord."

"All is well, then."

"I'm afraid not."

The elderly god sighed once again, and said, "Monsters are not coming out to kill them, in no little part thanks to me, you know I don't mean to be assumptious, but whatever could plight the moral man so much as to cause them to become in such a stir, as you seem to claim them to be? Tell me, then, what is it?"

At this point, Ouranos had begun to speak with a passion and emotion he seldom ever showed to anyone, for he always maintained that supreme authenticity that was so important, yet, with someone like Fels, they had long since moved past the points of formality and appearances. Fels would have easily been able to ascertain the god's thoughts, that is just how well he knew the supreme deity, and in turn, Ouranos understood Fels just as much. So he minded not in speaking his honest thoughts, without abashedness, to him and him alone.

"They complain about living in fear."

"In fear? Of what?"

"Of many things,"

"Tell me."

"First I will speak to you of the census that the guild has taken over the years, my lord. There is an extraordinary rise in poverty over the last few years, you are probably aware of this, but I tell you now my lord, it has gone to an almost unbearable point. Also, a growing amount of shipments of exports from other cities, and the Demeter Familia, have been getting attacked by monsters. There has been a large drought of goods as a result, and the people are angry."

He went on, "Of course, you are probably also aware of the murders happening during the night, and some during the day. People fear for their lives simply going out of their homes, as they catch onto just how bad it is."

Fels took a momentary pause, and Ouranos spoke during the gap, "Is that all?"

"There is much more, you see-"

"I think that's enough, Fels," Waving his hand, Ouranos continued, "To be completely honest with you, those are the least of my worries at the moment."

"My lord?"

The elder god waited in silence, not responding to his loyal servant. For a few minutes, Fels and Ouranos remained, the only noise being the soft tickling of the fire from the torches which aligned the hall leading up to Ouranos's seat.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to the two ageless men, Ouranos hummed, and Fels's empty eye sockets shot up to his god's face.

"For as long as we have known each other, you aren't, and never will be, divine." Ouranos spoke. While the sudden declaration might seem like some sort of insult, it was far from it. No, it was simply a statement of fact, like to say the sky will never be black, or the sun will never be blue. Fels knew this, and even if he didn't, even if it was an insult directed toward him, he still wouldn't have taken a slight bit of offense. What concerned Fels, then, was not the statement itself, but rather the way in which his lord said it, in an almost defeated manner, accepting, even.

"That is true, my lord, but why bring that up?"

Ouranos hummed again, "It is difficult for even me to describe what I feel now, that makes me worried. It is a sort of intuition that we gods can feel, that tells us of the state of the lesser world."

"Of course, my lord. Just like how you are able to recognize the state of the dungeon." However, Ouranos shook his head.

"No, not exactly. Such things are the result of my keeping the dungeon locked away from the rest of the world. What I speak of is far more broad. As though it deals with the entire universe at large, it is something only we gods can feel. Some of us more than others."

"What are you saying?"

"Fels, there is a terribleness happening to Orario, to all the land. I can feel it like the world is a dam, and that dam is breaking. A great catastrophe, something beyond the dungeon, is plaguing the land."

"Could it be... 'that' monster? Or Evilus?"

"No, I don't think it's either of those."

"Thank goodness.-"

"Don't feel relieved now, for I fear the mystery of the coming days more than I do anything else.."

The conversation trickled on, as Ouranos continued his foreboding warning to Fels, the skeleton man listening silently and harrowingly to every word.

.

---

.

"Farewell."

Finishing their distant meeting, Finn, the Pallum Captain of the Loki Familia, put away the oculus he had been using to converse with the god Ouranos.

For a moment, for a single moment, his stress had gotten to him, and he reached his little hand up to his eyes and rubbed them with frustration as he overlooked all that was going wrong. Seven days, that's all they had until their subjugation, it was then or never. They couldn't postpone it. Yet, even now, he felt Ouranos hiding things from him.

Then there were the murders during the night, which was no closer to being dealt with, and to which he was certain was Evilus just trying to toy with them. Well damned, it was working. A whole hundred or so people the night before, massacred, and nothing to show for it. If he was any less a stoic man, he might have cursed in frustration at the inability of the Ganesha Familia at dealing with it. For now he had Ouranos asking him to lend a hand to his stretched Familia.

He was inclined to bite at his finger, but truly, at times like these, he wished he was in his quarters. If for nothing else, so that he could be alone with the vestige of Fianna.

However, he was the Captain of the Loki Familia, and he had duties he had to attend to, like now, as he stood in the meeting chamber of their Familia, among his fellow executives.

"I take it you aren't pleased with your talk with lord Ouranos?" Riveria, the level 6 high elf of the Loki Familia questioned. Despite her smooth and perfect skin, which was free of any blemish, she held an expression that could only be seen by an elderly mother being concerned for her child. She didn't see Finn as a child, no, far from. It simply is so that she looked upon all people whom she cared for with the type of worry that a mother would show her child. It was a matter that only through such dedication, that someone as youthful in appearance as her(despite being ninety and nine years of age), could have a face that appeared to be like that of an elderly woman.

Finn quickly brought his hands down from his eyes and gave the high elf a grimace smile. Within the meeting chamber, there was a large marble table that they stood around, with Finn at the head of the table, and Riveria to his left. The high elf in question reached out her hand to him across the table, and Finn seeing this, grabbed onto it.

"I don't think I've ever had a pleasant conversation with Ouranos." He laughed bitterly. "But I think this one is the worst, the timing of it, that is."

"Hey now," From Finn's right, a deep and brassy voice interrupted the two humorously. Finn turned his head and saw as Gareth, a level 6 dwarf, and executive of the Loki Familia, shook his head, "I'm right here, no need to keep me out of the moment."

Both Riveria and Finn laughed. Riveria gave a soft, kindly giggle, and brought her free hand to cover her lips. Finn, on the other hand, gave a hearty laugh, despite his prepubescent voice. They separated from each other, and Finn reached over and slapped Gareth in the back, before saying, "We'll let you in next time."

"Meh," Gareth shrugged his bulky shoulders, "Don't worry about it. Anyway, don't you got something to talk about? I assume it's more than just your conversation with Ouranos, since you called us all here."

"Yes, firstly, there is a-"

Before Finn could continue, he nearly became startled as a thundering set of coughs echoed from the Dwarf he was speaking to. Gareth turned his head away from the table and let out half a dozen coughs, before wiping his mouth with his hand, and turning back to the table.

"Sorry," Gareth said, "Go on."

"Hold on," Riveria objected, before Finn could say another word, "Is that the same cough from yesterday? I thought I told you to go get it checked at a hospital."

"I would love to, but unfortunately the Dian Cecht Familia was completely packeted with patients, they had no room."

Riveria scoffed in disappointment.

"Surely you could've just gone in? The Dian Cecht Familia would take one of us over a random person." Finn commented. Indeed, the Dian Cecht Familia, thanks to their reservations with the Loki Familia, gave them and their members special treatment compared to other adventurers and regular people. High-quality potions, medicines, and medical treatment. If Gareth had made a point to ask, then the hospital would've, to put it crudely, kicked someone out to make room for him.

"I know that, but I'd hate to take it away from someone who might need it, I don't think a little cough and fever is enough to take me down."

"Still," Riveria commented, "You must take it easy in the coming days, don't go pushing yourself in training."

"Aye, whatever you say, mother." Gareth laughed at his own joke, yet Riveria only continued to look at him concernedly, Finn on the other hand, only shook his head.

However, before they had any more time for fickle banter, the dual set of large doors which led into the meeting chamber flung open. The sound of the handles of the doors slamming into the opposite walls drew the attention of all those gathered in the room to who now stood at the center of the archway which led into the room, a red-haired woman. She was clad in blue revealing clothing, and her aforementioned hair was tied into a ponytail. Her eyes were slanted so much that it could be confused that she didn't have them opened, but they were open, and it was a conscious decision by the woman to keep them so closed. On her white face was a smile, snickering and jester-like, and she strutted her way into the room with an equal amount of lacking care.

"Heya!" The woman shouted, emphasizing every speech, "If it isn't my favorite three people in the whole wide world!"

Approaching the table, the red-haired woman wrapped her arms around Riveria and Finn from her position between them. This position, mind you, was directly at the edged corner, and while the woman's petite frame allowed her to avoid pressing her body against it as she stretched her limbs to reach both of her targets from their opposing positions, when she did manage to get a hold of the two, as a result of her trying to force them all together, it caused them to be pushed forward and for Riveria nearly to bend over the table entirely. Yet despite that, neither Finn nor Riveria resisted her pull. This was in part due to them not really being affected by any pain as a result of the marble table pressed against their skin. Mostly, however, was because of just who exactly was antagonizing them at this moment, so much so that neither of them even spoke against her.

For the red-haired woman was the very patron goddess of their Familia, the source of their power and triumph, of their fortune and grandness, the trickster goddess Loki.

"So!" She retracted her hands from their shoulders just as quickly as she had brought them in, and leaned against the marble table, "What are you talking about."

Riveria rolled her eyes, "Finn was just finished with his debriefing with lord Ouranos."

"Perfect! Now then, give it to me Captain, what's the plan?"

Clearing his throat, Finn began again what he was going to say, "Now that you are here, my goddess, we can begin in full. Firstly, does anyone have any news on the whereabouts of Aiz?"

There was a silence between the three, before Gareth answered, "I told everyone to keep a lookout for her, should they see her at all in the city, but no one has said a thing."

Aiz, the sixteen-year-old ace of the Familia, was undoubtedly their trump card in the coming battle. She was the best their Familia had to offer. Even while Finn was certain that, if they were to spar, he might be able to best her thanks to his experience, he recognized how she far outsped him, and in some instances matched him, or surpassed him, in strength. He hoped with enough training, she would be able to reach a level no other adventurer had ever reached, that the spirit blood in her veins would allow her to evolve past what humanity could offer. And yet-

"This is your fault, you know that, right? Finn, it's because you pushed her so hard." Riveria interrupted his thoughts with an uncharacteristically vile accusation.

"No he didn't," Gareth said, "You read the letter yourself, she said she was going out to train, and I doubt that desire has anything to do with Finn."

"Even still, you can't say that he didn't help in that descent, and now she is off doing gods know what, perhaps getting herself hurt, or worse. She is strong enough as it is, we should've let the girl rest."

To that, the level six dwarf of the Loki Familia opened his mouth as though to continue their argument, however, he was stopped when Finn raised his hand between them.

"Whether or not I am to blame doesn't matter now," The Pallum said, "What matters is that she is not here, and we must make do with that fact. Besides, Aiz, no matter how much we might deny it, is no longer a child. She has seen and been through far too much to consider her one now. If she believes that leaving is the best course of action, then that is that. I only wished to know her location to confirm if she had already started training or not, but if there is no answer to that, so be it."

"Ya!" Loki, who had been silent up until this point, shouted from directly behind Finn. She had taken the time Riveria and Gareth were talking to sneak behind him, or at least to try and sneak behind him. "You tell'em, Finn."

Ignoring his goddess once again, Finn continued, "Alright enough of that, onto more pressing matters. With regards to the murders happening during the night, I intend to assign Bete to assist the Ganesha Familia with that. Hopefully, with his speed and senses, it will be dealt with."

"Ho~ld now." This time, directly standing next to Finn, Loki decided that she would speak first, "Are you sure sending that block-head of a man Bete to handle something like a murder case is the best idea? I mean, if Ganesha and his lot can't find anything, what chance does that panther got?"

To that, it was Riveria who answered, "Bete might be the best choice. If anyone, I trust him to take care of himself in that situation, more than others."

"Can you imagine?" Gareth laughed, "Tione and Tiona dealing with a murder case? Haha-" His hearty laugh was stopped by a grueling cough. A short pause in the discussion occurred, allowing the dwarf to recover, and he waved his hand, dissuading their worry.

"About the twins," Finn said, "I need them for what is next. I have recently received a report from the guild. Someone from Rivira has come to ask for help about a rogue adventurer attacking other adventurers and protecting monsters. As strange as it sounds, this man has apparently taken down multiple level twos and even a few level threes. This is something I have decided must be taken care of, and I would personally see about dealing with it, but I have my own plans for the coming days. Which is why," He turned to Gareth, "Gareth, I need you to take the twins, and whomever else you think you would need, and deal with this issue. Alive preferably, but if that isn't possible then so be it."

"Hold on," Riveria demanded, "I thought you planned on having the twins continue their training together?"

"Plans have changed, especially after Aiz left. Besides, no better place to train than the dungeon, even if it is just the middle floors."

"Still, Gareth is clearly not in the best health. He cannot just be sent into combat like this, it will only worsen it."

"Don't worry about me, Riveria." It was the dwarf in question who responded to the elf's worries, "I'm telling you, just a simple cough and fever, nothing so trivial could take me down. If Finn thinks it's necessary for us to be sent out, then we shall be."

"Don't be so careless!" Riveria shouted, "I think you should know, Gareth, after all our years how something like an illness, or something even less, can be fatal in the dungeon. Especially when dealing with an unknown assailant who is at least stronger than a level three."

"Look," Finn dejected, "Gareth, if you believe you are in a condition to go, then all is well. But, if you feel you cannot, then I will call it off. While whoever this rogue is might be a threat, Rivira can wait."

"Hmm." Gareth rubbed his long beard in thought.

So that's how it is, aye? That was what went through the dwarf as the room quieted. How funny, it almost seemed to him, that even since they started adventurer, it was him who was left as the space between the two. Finn was the captain, Riveria was the oldest and most experienced, and yet how often was it that important decisions like these were left up to him? Maybe not during the heat of battle, he would be far too busy being on the front line for something like that. But here, in their meeting room?

Finn was the type of man to push forward no matter the circumstances. Through thick or thin, he would drag on. It was something Gareth respected, but he could also see clear as day just how little he knew of stopping. Then there was Riveria. Whether consciously or not, she couldn't help but treat everyone as children. Maybe it was because of the strange way elves perceive time, what with their extraordinary lifespans, or maybe it was just in her nature. Gareth wasn't too sure. He acknowledged though, that they both had their issues. With Finn, it was all but self-explanatory. He experienced it first hand after all when they were younger. For that, Finn was able to recognize it, not that he would do anything to stop himself, but he would recognize it.

Riveria, however, often couldn't see how her behavior would negatively affect the people around her. Gareth never raised a kid, nor did he ever plan to, but he had a bit of a feeling that treating someone like a child wasn't exactly the greatest way of managing a Familia. He minded it not, perhaps thirty or forty he might've, but now he found it a nice thought.

Gareth knew the decision he was going to make, even now, the continued rubbing of his beard, as if he was lost in thought, was merely a show. An inside joke, you could say, that the other executives had already caught up on.

"I'll tell the twins to get ready, we will try to depart before the sun is out."

Riveria shook her head, "If you say so, the decision is out of my hands."

"Well then," The dwarf turned away from the table, "I'm gonna go prepare myself, see ya-"

"Wait, Gareth." Finn held out his hand, beckoning Gareth back, "Before you go, I have to say this. While I have demanded much of you, and you have responded that you are capable, do not forget, we are all mortal. Riveria is right in her concerns. We all want the same thing, peace and prosperity for Orario, and all the people we care for. None of that is possible if we are dead, and, we are mortals, it is a matter of fact that death is to come. There may come a time, perhaps a thousand or two thousand years in the future, when we will have evolved past the point of needing to worry about such things, but for that time to come, we must survive now. You Gareth, in the dungeon, and all of us, come the subjugation. This is why I push everyone so hard, this is why I force everyone to the breaking point. I hope, I pray, you can all understand that."

Before Finn could say anything else, the sound of glass hitting the ground brought all three of their eyes to a far-off corner of the room. There, Loki had drifted off and was fiddling with a cup, to which it is unknown where she got it from, and was tossing it from one hand to another. However, she eventually missed one of her juggles, and the glass cup fell to the ground and shattered into pieces, some large, some small.

Loki looked down at the broken glass on the floor with scorn, before looking up and seeing the other three staring at her. She stared back at them confused, before rubbing the back of her head and saying, "What? I was paying attention for the most part, but then you started talking about mortality, death and stuff, and I kinda zoned off. Don't look at me like that, you know how it is."

With a chuckle, Finn shook his head, "Of course, we have just finished with our business anyway. You are all dismissed." Gareth nodded and walked away, being trailed by Loki, "I'll tell someone to clean that up!" The goddess shouted as she left the room.

What remained was Finn, who was in thought, and Riveria, who had chosen to remain still.

"Yes, Riveria? Is there something you need?"

The high elf didn't answer and instead brought something up from her side. On the marble table, she set down a book. It was large, at least a foot in length, and as thick as Riveria's hand. Its cover was a brownish decay, caused not by natural color, but from years of abandonment. There were no words to indicate some sort of title of the book.

Finn tilted his head in confusion, "What is this?"

Riveria set her hand on top of the book, and held her breath, thinking about what to say. "Recently, just a few days ago, the guild brought to me this." She opened the book and skipped the first few blank dirtied pages, before getting to a page with text. Or rather, calling it text would be incorrect, and what was written on the pages was not any sort of language Riveria or Finn knew. It was a set of symbols, clearly done with some sort of design, but without sense. Random lines and scribbles, circles, crosses, and other such shapes.

"This," Riveria said, "was a journal left behind by a member of the Zeus Familia. It seems to be written in some kind of code, and they hoped I could decipher it. I want to know what you wish me to do."

As Finn continued to stare and it, squinting his eyes to try to make a sort of semblance as to something he understood, he couldn't help but get a deep feeling of uncertainty and anxiety from it. He had half the mind to give it back to the guild, or just throw it out in general. However-

"Something from the Zeus Familia... Who knows what unprecedented knowledge it might hold. You just figure out how to read it."

"If you say so, then so be it." Returning the book to her side, Riveria stood away from the table and made her way to the exit of the room. She paused for a moment at the archway, "I have my reservations about all of this, but if it's you Finn, then so be it."

Finn watched as she left him alone in the room, and as the pallum remained motionless, he couldn't seem to get the quivering of his thumb in check, and he began to bite at its nail.

.

---

.

Daedalus was a poor street, poorer than most. However, to simply call it a street is an understatement. While at the center of Daedalus was the very street it was named after, the Daedalus area was a much larger sect of the city, not big enough to be notable on any map, but still far larger then it is given credit for. It was the guild that decided to name Daedalus street and replace the Daedalus area it was once, only after all the poor and lower-class residents began to take shelter there. To say that Daedalus street is the poorest area in the city downplays the severity far better than something like the Daedalus area ever could.

What drove the downtrodden and curred to one part of the city was a mystery, yet they dwelled there during the day, begging, and striving for their lives all the same. Maybe it was a matter of them being forced into the poor area, by matter of it already being impoverished, maybe it was the fact that the street lay at a critical point in the city, which stood between a residential district and a marketplace, which led to many middle-class residents to sometimes traverse the street, maybe it had no logical at all.

Whatever the reason, it mattered little to the ashen-haired, pale-skinned woman named Amelia, who wore a white, cloth garb, and she made her own way throughout the street. Following close behind her was Theresa, an Amazoness who she helped a day before.

"This is where a lot of the people who are beaten down come to, I spent a fair bit of my time in this area before I worked in the red-light district, there is no better place to find people to help."

"I see... All of them, gathered in one place, surely it would be ideal for managing to assist them in any way, and yet..."

"And yet, as you can see, ain't no assistance here. I tell ya' the only thing that keeps this entire place from being overrun is because a lot of people here go into adventuring, going into the dungeon, and don't come back. Not that the guild would care, either way, the bastards."

"I see."

"Anyway, I'm not sure what you exactly plan to do here, but stick close to me."

"I never truly asked you to come along with me on my endeavors, I told you already, I intend to help people."

"I know, but... Just trust me, I should come with you for now, Amelia."

"I see."

They continued to walk down the street until they came across a decrepit lady who appeared in her middle age, her clothes were ragged, and her eyes blackened from fatigue. In her hands was what could only be assumed was her child, a little boy who couldn't have been older than maybe five or six. Her black hair was dirtied from weeks of exposure, and her lips were chapped dry like bristled bricks.

At the very least, the boy seemed to be in a better condition than his mother.

"Alms..." The poor beggar woman said, her voice portraying her dry throat, "Alms, anything, please..." She spoke with a lack of desire. A thousand times had people passed by the beggar, and a thousand times they at most passed her a glare or two, before turning away. There was no convincing the heart of people, they would either give, or they wouldn't. So why speak with care? Why speak as though you truly need help? Why waste your breath? The world was cruel, so why give it any more from yourself?

However, as Amelia made a quick turn from her path, and began heading straight toward the beggar woman, her once slanted and squinted eyes shot open.

"Hold on Amelia, you can't just... Wait!" Theresa said in a hushed shout. Amelia paid her no mind, however, and pressed on to the beggar.

The middle-aged woman let the child go from her arms and slightly approached Amelia. "O-o~h. Please, madam, the clothes you wear, so refined... Please, have you anything to spare? For the child?"

Amelia only stared at the beggar for a moment, before saying, "Your name, what is your name?"

"M-My name? It's Gertrude," She pointed at the boy, "He is James, named after his late father."

"I see."

"Please, madam, have you anything-hac" The woman was forced to stop, as she coughed a nasty sound, and from her mouth came saliva.

Before they could go any further, Theresa jumped in, "Sorry, sorry about your husband. We don't have any money," She grabbed onto Amelia's shoulder and whispered, "Come on, don't get too close to her, gods know she might have the plague, or the pox, or something else." She tried to pull her away. However, gently and slowly, Amelia brought her own hand up and rested it upon Theresa's. It was cool, and soft, but warm at the same time, to Theresa. And, as Amelia gripped with a faint yet unshakeable strength, the Amazoness could not resist the beautifully pale skin, as Emilia took her hand and brought it back to Theresa's side, before turning back to the beggar, but not before whispering, "Have faith."

Amelia bent down on a knee, to be face-to-face with the beggar woman, "Please, tell me how you came to be in a place like this?"

The beggar woman looked reluctant, but eventually gave way, and spoke. "I came here, to Orario, from my far-off village. I heard so many wonders about it, stories from ex-adventurers, and how gods walked the earth with everyone else. It sounded wonderful. So I packed up all my belongings, and came here. That was nearly a decade ago now, by the gods." She looked at her child solemnly, "I met his father in Orario not a year after I first arrived, and it was love quickly after. He served as an adventurer, and we bought a house and had our son. But," She gripped her head, "He got into it with some shady people, it's not his fault, they tricked him. He was extremely kindhearted and genuine, and that's how they got him into some deep debt. I told him that I would help to pay it off, but... He wouldn't listen, and he started going into the dungeon more and more, until one day..." They could hear the woman's faint sobbing, "One day he went into the dungeon, and... He never came out. Not even a body to bury. I had to sell off everything left to pay those damn debt collectors off, that was nearly three years ago, and now, well," Bringing her arms down, she gave Amelia a bittersweet smile through her tears, "Here I am, sick, starving, with a child. I don't even care about my own life. I just don't want my child to end up in one of those useless orphanages, gods know what they do in them."

"I see."

"There, I told you, what do you want? Your friend just said you don't have any money. Do you want to mock me? Go ahead, I don't care, all they do is mock."

Amelia remained in silence, and Theresa had turned away to not look at the woman. The Amazoness knew the story well, every week she heard the same tale from many of her fellow red-light district employers, even she shared some commonality. All you can do is turn away, what were they to do? What was Amelia to do? Unless...

"Amelia," She whispered, "Are you going to use that... The blood you have? I'm certain that could help her."

Amelia nodded her head, as she reached into her clothes."

"Forgive me," She said, "I may not have any currency to spare, but, I can care for you in another way." She pulled a syringe of a thick red liquid.

"W-what is that?" The beggar asked.

"This is a vial of blood, my blo-"

"It-It's mermaid blood!" Theresa shouted, interrupting Amelia, "Mermaid blood can heal any injury, all you have to do is inject it into yourself."

"M-Mermaid blood?" The beggar stuttered, "But, that's... That's extremely rare, isn't it? I remember. Those only come from the middle floors!"

"...Yes, mermaid blood. Now please, hold your arm out."

The beggar woman looked skeptical, and at first, did the exact opposite, and detracted her arm.

"Now come on!" Theresa shouted, "Amelia here is trying to help you, think of your child."

The woman looked at her confused, then quickly shook her head, "O~h-oh yes, my child. Of course, but, I'm sorry, it's just that, isn't mermaid blood expensive? I don't have anything to give you."

"Fret not," Amelia assured, "I have plenty on me to spare, consider this a favor from God."

"From god aye?" The beggar sighed, "Alright, I guess I can't really say no," She brought her arm out. Amelia grabbed her by the hand and turned her wrist over, and brought the large syringe to the vein in the wrist.

"Please hold your breath, this might sting a little." She said, as she jabbed the needle into the beggar woman, and pressed down on the plunger of the syringe. The effect was immediate, in that the beggar woman squeezed her eyes in pain, and gritted her teeth.

Theresa watched intently. However, she noticed from the side how the beggar woman's child, James, stood far to the side. She walked up to him, "What about you, little kid? Are you hurt?" She expected some sort of response, be it childish or otherwise, but instead, the boy didn't say a word, and backed away further from her.

"What? Afraid of needles? I guess I understand that." Still no response. Just what was wrong with this kid?

With Amelia, she finally finished injecting all the blood, pulled the syringe out, and threw it to the ground. "That should do, give it just a moment."

"That- That hurt, just how does mermaid blood work-" Before the beggar could finish, the effects of the healing blood began to work its way through her body. Around her the blackened and bruised skins, perhaps from a hit, or simply lack of care, faded away. The wrinkles in her face and skin smoothed out, and a missing tooth she had, one which was not so offensive, but did make it difficult to eat, quickly regenerated from nothing.

"B-by the gods." It was like she was some wealthy woman, who could eat and sleep all she desired, and had the energy to do anything she wanted, she felt even better than that! "What a thing mermaid blood is! Imagine how much you could sell this for? This is probably better than any potion."

"Thank you, as I said, I charge nothing for this."

"Do you have any more on you?"

"Indeed."

The beggar woman smiled, "Well, that's good, please give me your hand. I'm sorry, I don't really know how you upper-class people act, but I do know that kissing hands is a sign of respect, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Then please, let me kiss your hand if you'll accept this poor woman's gratitude."

Amelia smiled with joy and contentment back at the woman, "With pleasure, the Church turns none away." She brought out her palm.

Meanwhile, Theresa had been taking in their surroundings. There were many poor people all around before they started talking to the woman, but where were they all now? All the impoverished and poor who were once standing about, were now hiding away in houses and alleyways, as if preparing for some kind of fight. Why? What were they expecting, a fight?

And the child, she had looked away for a moment, but he too had disappeared into some crevice.

What was happening?

It didn't matter, Theresa thought, they just had to go.

Meanwhile, Amelia had fully brought her hand out, and the beggar woman gripped her wrist.

"Hey, Amelia! Come on, something isn't right!"

It was a second in which Amelia turned her head to where Theresa had shouted, and it was in that second that the beggar compressed her grip on the Vicar's wrist, and yanked her in. Amelia yelped in shock, and a disgusting pop came from her shoulder as it was dislocated.

"Amelia!"

Theresa rushed forward, small and petite she may have been, she was still a level one adventurer, and it put her above even the average man. However, before she could get even within a few feet, she was forced to stop as the beggar woman helped Amelia to her, back pressed against her chest, and held a dagger to her throat.

"You bastard!"

"Sorry, Amazoness, I don't know why you are traveling around these parts with such an upper-class lady, but this is an opportunity I can't miss out on! Really, I don't know why you didn't take it! This girl seems to trust you, what a fool she is, trusting a whore! Nothing but stupid and deceitful you lot are."

The beggar Gertrude spoke with heinous, any sort of gratitude or desperation in her voice replaced with malice. She held the dagger closer to Amelia's throat, and Amelia cracked her head back trying to inch away from it. With a dislocated right arm, and her left arm pinned against her, Amelia had no chance of freeing herself, however, the desperation of the situation was not shown on her face. Rather, the smile she had at once formed became a pitied frown.

"I ask that you please release me." The vicar said, in a tone far too calm.

"Like hell I will! Hey!" The beggar would shouted of into a nearby building, "Dismas, James, come stop that stupid Amazoness from doing something dumb!"

Said Amazoness whipped her head to the side and saw as two men, who had previously been hidden among the rest of the beggars rushed out, weapons in hand, one with a straight sword and another with a hand ax. Clearly her fellow assailants. These lot were adventurers, maybe if it was just one, but not against all three of them, and certainly not with Amelia being held hostage.

The man with the sword ran up to her, and pointed it directly at her, "You just say still, woman, keep calm and you won't get hurt."

Theresa all but growled a response, "As if! I don't care about your damn blade, so help me by the gods if you hurt a hair on her head-"

"Ya-ya," The third man, the one with the hand ax, waved his hand dismissively. He was the tallest of the three, and the oldest, clearly their leader. "They all say the same shit." He walked up slowly to Amelia, whose eyes were wide but her face gave no hint of fear. "All we're gonna do is rob her for all she's got and take her with us. We'll probably ransom her off back to the family she comes from, and she'll be back home in her luxurious life in no time. And if not, then, well,"

The man went face to face with Amelia, and gripped at her cheeks with his free hand, squeezing them. "She's got quite the pretty face, I'm sure someone will buy her off for quite a nice price."

"Aye, come on James," Gertrude said, "I may be a thief and a liar, but I'm still a woman, at least do that when it's not right in front of me."

"Shut up, or you're not getting anything from this."

"S-Sorry." She quickly stuttered.

"You ain't getting nothing!" Amelia shouted from beside them, "She's not rich! She doesn't come from any wealthy family."

"Oh really?" James said, "These fine clothes she wears tell otherwise."

"Ya," Gertrude added, "She's got tons of mermaid blood apparently, even used one on me. Let me see..." She reached into the pockets of the Vicar's fine gown. "Ah! Got them, look at these, James." In her hand were six syringes of red thick blood.

"Hell, you really bit the big one Gertrude, this is gonna give us a fortune. Aye, maybe enough to pay off those debt collectors you've got, then again, maybe not, after I take my cut. Ha!" He slapped his own knee. "I make myself laugh."

"That wasn't very funny, James."

"Shut up!"

"S-sorry."

"Wait," Amelia finally spoke from between the two, "You said that boy's name was James, and that he was named after his father, is this man him?"

"You mean the brat?" The man answered, "Ya, he's my kid, my own dumbass fault for spending a couple of nights with this bitch. Now she refuses to go off and sell her body."

"Damnit James! I told you I'm not some common prostitute, I spent those nights with you because I wanted to."

"See? Stupid, a woman who sleeps with men out of love, and not to make money, I'm sure your Amazoness friend can attest to that."

"But," Amelia interrupted him, "She said that you died and left her with debt."

"Haha! Is that the shitty story she's telling people? What a joke. Na, don't be ridiculous, she's got all this debt gambling at the casinos, what a waste. And now she expects me to help her out just because I had a kid with her, she even named the brat after me! By the gods, she has no brains."

He waved his hand, "But enough about that nonsense, we'll be leaving now. Make sure you hold onto her tight."

"Hold on a second boss." The third man, who had remained with his sword to Theresa, spoke, "What about this Amazoness?"

"Ha! Just look at her, Dismas, she won't worth anything. Just some used and damaged goods, probably already belongs to some gang or pimp, she just ain't worth the trouble."

"You ain't just gonna ignore me!" Theresa shouted.

"Feisty one, you are. What would a woman like you have anything to do with this rich girl? Just accept it, this is how it is." James walked up to the Amazoness, "Really, it's almost funny watching ya' now, all angry and shit, it's funny and pathetic."

"You sure you should be that close to her, boss?"

"What she gonna do?"

"I'm pretty sure she is an adventurer."

"A~h don't be dumb, we got that rich girl locked up tight, isn't that right Gertrude-"

He was interrupted by a shout.

No one had been paying attention to Amelia, even Gertrude had her eyes caught up with Theresa and James, and during that time of lapse, her grip on the vicar loosened. The knife she had to her neck relaxed, and her arm was brought closer to her mouth instead. It was at that moment, that Amelia opened her mouth, and bit down on the knuckle of the index finger of the beggar woman.

"GAa~h! Shit!" Gertrude shouted, forced to let go of Amelia. She bent over and clutched her wrist in pain. The vicar for her part was thrown to the floor, and she quickly scrambled to her feet.

"What?!" James shouted, "You bloody dumbass-"

He was interrupted again, by a fist to the jaw. Theresa held nothing back and attacked swiftly. She was not some first-class adventurer, but her force was enough to knock James off his feet.

"Boss! I'm gonna- Woah!" Theresa gave him no time to give his word, and she quickly pounced on him as well.

She was accustomed best to straight fist-fights, which was what she mainly used in the dungeon, but she also had an idea of what was needed to fight an actual person. Mainly, that if whoever you were fighting had a blade, if you couldn't run away, then you had to get in.

Theresa swung on the man without pause, and she could see him stumbling. She never let him get a few inches away.

"What the hell?" Dismas shouted, "Get back!" He vapidly swung his sword horizontally at Theresa's chest, trying to create some space. However, a swift step back to dodge the blade was followed up immediately by a step forward, and a punch to the chin, which he was forced to take head-on.

He had no time to think on the matter, and Theresa swung a blow to his chest.

"Your fists aren't much to worry about!" Dismas shouted as he took the blow directly. A gasp of breath escaped his lungs, and he hunched over, his head hung queerly.

"I'll still use them to beat your head in!" Theresa responded, punching him in the side.

The blow connected, and the bait was taken. Theresa had extended her leg and fist out far, her body too close to his, her center of mass to off balance. She had no time to dodge now, as he jabbed his sword forward right into her ribcage.

"Got you! Damn, that was risky, that punch might have actually killed me if it hit the right part. But I got you now. Hey boss! I got the her."

Theresa cringed in pain, as she felt the steel writhe around in her chest. The blade was sharp, but did not have the force to pierce her straight through. It was left stuck halfway in her, and it bumped into her ribs. It hurt bad, like all hell. Her feet suddenly stiffened, and all the momentum she had was stopped. She felt like just falling to the floor. But...

"Ya! I got her good boss! Now just go grab that other woman-" Dismas was cut off, as Theresa lunged forward, and wrapped her hands around his neck. The sword in her pierce further and finally came out the other end, with blood flying out from the wound. This dissuaded her not, and she tightened her grip, and forced the man to the ground.

Straddled on top of him, she held his throat down with her left hand, and lifted her right hand up.

"W-wait, hold on-" Dismas tried to bring up his hands to protect his face, but as Theresa brought her closed fist down, she pushed straight through, and slammed into his face.

She lifted her hand once again and punched down. Once, twice, three, four, and it went on. Theresa saw red, and she kept going.

"You fucking bastard!" She shouted, "I ain't about to let myself get beat! Not again!" There was a fury in her voice that not even she recognized. Never, never once would she have ever acted in such a manner. To get by in her position, you had to keep quiet, don't gather too much attention. Being passionate, and having a strong will, was for those who could afford to do it. She knew that like she knew the day, so what compelled her now? Was it some pent-up resentment she had? Was it her desire to fight back? Or maybe it was...

"And you sure as hell ain't gonna touch her!" She punched down harder than she ever had before, and she could hear and feel her own fingers breaking from the force of it.

She shook her damaged hand, trying to flee the pain, but it remained heavy. Instead, she freed her left hand from the man's neck, closed it, and slammed it down-"

"Get off him you bitch!"

She turned just in time to avoid a small hand ax that was aimed straight for her throat. Theresa tumbled backward in desperation to dodge, and it barely missed her. She was too distracted, which allowed their leader, James, to recover from her initial blow and nearly take her head off.

"Dismas! Are you alright?" James looked over the man, and visibly gagged at the appearance of his face.

"Aye, you're fine, just got a fucked up face it all. Few broken teeth, a bit more than a few, actually. Broken nose, skull might be caved in... You're fine! Don't say anything," He said, grabbing Dismas by the arm and forcing him to his feet. "And... Ah! Here we go." He reached to the ground and picked up the sword which had dislodged itself from Theresa during their scuffle. "Hold this damn thing already, help me take down this banshee." He held it out to Dismas, who lazily took it. "And, hey Gertrude!"

Gertrude, from her kneeling position, still clutching her fingers, looked up, "What?!"

"Come on, let's take her all at once, she is already half dead!"

The beggar woman stood, however-

Gertrude felt something heavy and spiky hit the back of her head, with a soft thud. Quickly she turned and saw Amelia, a rock in her left hand, with a small amount of blood dripping from it.

"You... You damn bitch!" Closing her hand, Gertrude punched Amelia straight in the right eye. "That could've fucking killed me! Thank the gods you are so weak."

"Hey!" James shouted, "Don't damage the goods!"

"She tried to kill me!"

"I will too if you don't hurry the hell over here!"

"S-sorry..."

Theresa heard their conversation, and the wound inflicted on her companion, but her head beat so hard that she could barely focus. Honestly, by now, she thought she would be dead. That blade in the chest would be enough to kill someone far stronger then her... But...

"How the hell is this whore still alive anyways?" Gertrude said as she arrived at their ganging on her, "Look at how much blood she's losing."

"Come on..." Theresa trailed, barely audible, "I ain't done yet."

"God damn!" James's eyes widened, "What the hell is wrong with this girl? Look at you! You are already gonna die walking halfway across the street. By the gods, how can you still even stand?"

It was true that she was badly injured, but Theresa still somehow had strength, thought fleeting. She could feel it, in her very veins, a burning sensation. It was something that both stung like fire but insists she keeps going. Like she was hyped on adrenaline, but somehow, it's even greater than that.

"Hurt or not... I ain't finished! Especially you, you damn snake!" She yelled, directed at Gertrude, "I'm gonna pay you back for every hair you hurt on her body!"

"Honestly," James said, "I'm getting tired of all this shouting, let's just go and kill her."

The three of them made their approach to her, and she slowly limped her way to them. So what if she dies here? At least she died doing something actually worthwhile. At least it would be a death that matters. Everyone here, even the gods in heaven could see, that Theresa died for a reason.

James was the first to get into range, and he swing his hand ax down right onto her-

"Cease, at once!"

All hands froze at the sound of a woman shouting echoed throughout the entire street. It resonated so powerfully that not a single person dared move to object to her from the sheer force of it.

A woman walked with almost intentional slowness, and with refined step, down from the entrance of the street, straight too them. She had azure, dull hair, and wore an orange outfit. Her eyes were like that of a hawk, and her scolding frown showed her anger.

"Shit!" James shouted, finally forcing his feet to move, and he frantically walked backward, away from the encroaching woman. "We were just about to finish up here, then she had to show!"

"Why is the Captain of the Ganesha Familia here? Damnit!" Gertrude cursed.

Theresa forced her head to look at that high-rank adventurer, "The Ganesha Familia... Hey! These bastards are trying-"

"Silence." Captain Shakti Verma said, her voice overwhelming Theresa's, raising her hand flatly, "I can see clearly what is happening here, without question. Some rats and vermin in the streets, spreading around their disease."

"What?"

"Dismas!" James yelled, having put a few feet between them, "Distract her!" If the man he spoke to could respond, he didn't bother and simply ran straight at Shakti, sword in hand, closing the dozen or so feet between them.

"Are you a fool? Or do you have a death wish?" Shakti said coldly, "Judging from your disgruntling appearance, perhaps it's the latter. Cease now and come peacefully!"

He gave no response and continued forward.

"So be it." Shakti took stance. She brought her left foot forward, left her right foot planted where it was, and brought her hands to her upper torso. Waste down, back forward, head up, this was the routine stance of the hand-to-hand combat Shakti had trained so efficiently with for her decades as an enforcer of the Ganesha Familia. In truth, it was without any actual necessity that she took such a stance, as even only in passing, she would be able to dispose of everyone here. That was simply the difference in their level. However...

The charging man was within a foot of her now, and his sharpened sword was a mere second away from reaching her.

He would be made an example of.

Everyone, from Theresa, Amelia, Gertrude, James, and every other person hiding in buildings or around corners, could feel the impact, as from one moment the man had been running toward the Captain, and in the next, he was halfway across the street, face planted into the ground. A hurricane of dust and dirt followed behind him, and a loud bang, like a cannon, resonated through the street, multiple streets.

Shakti remained with her stoic expression. Now, with her right on forward greatly, palm open, and her form lower. She had struck the man with only a fraction of her strength, but even still.

"Let all of you know!" She shouted, addressing everyone who could hear, "Disobeying the law will not be tolerated!"

"Holy fuck..." James said, mouth open, "C-come on hell on, Gertrude, we gotta run."

"But... But what about junior?"

"The brat? Are you crazy? Fine then! Die for all I care." He turned and sprinted down the other end of the street, opposite Shakti.

"W-wait, where are you going?" Gertrude tried to ask, however, before she could receive an answer, a sudden blast of wind from right behind her nearly sent her off her feet.

"I should ask you the same question," Shakti said, right behind the beggar woman.

"H-how did you," Indeed, in what was less than a second, Shakti closed the 100 feet that were made between them while she was disposing of the man. Not bothering to answer, Shakti gripped the head of the woman in front of her, and in one swift movement, slammed her face-first into the ground.

"O-ow…"

"Now, time for the last one." Shakti looked up at the rest of the street. Deserted. Not a soul in front of her. Damnit all, the man had managed to escape in the few moments she was occupied, she thought. For all her strength, speed, and skill, she knew not the ways of the people who made this place their home, she didn't know all the crevices and creeks that a rat or mouse might scurry through, that alone is why the man escaped.

"No matter, I'm sure he will get the idea. I'm going to cuff you, do not resist." She said to the woman beneath her, but all she heard back was the faint sound of breathing.

From her distance, Theresa couldn't help much be left agape for a moment. The people she had just been ready to fight to the death with were instantly defeated by the Ankusha, what a thing she had just witnessed.

But, she thought, shaking her senses back to life, she had little time to worry about that. Turning from the Captain, she limped her way to where Amelia was, sitting on the ground, a hand covering her eye.

"Amelia..." She panted, "Are you alright?" She stepped close to her and got on a knee. The vicar had refused to turn to face her and continued to obscure her face. Seeing this, Theresa gently grabbed her left shoulder and tugged her. Finally turning, they both caught a good look at each other.

Theresa herself was still bleeding from the wound in her chest, but at a much slower rate. Her clothes were tattered, and she was covered in dirt. Her smooth raven hair become a disentangled mess, with strands curling, and falling into every direction. Yet Theresa felt this all as a mere twinge of pain, even now, as the adrenaline finally began to run dry in her.

Amelia herself was also badly wounded. To her side, her left hand lay limp, completely unable to move, hanging lifelessly. Her right eye also had begun to become red and swollen, and would most likely be bruised in time. Her mouth, in an almost disturbing way, had blood just underneath it, which had dripped its way down to her chin, and had begun to spill on her fine clothes.

"How is that right arm?"

"It is painful, but bearable.

"That's good."

"Apologies."

"What for?"

"I insisted on coming here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Theresa dismissively waved her hand, "I was the one who wanted to come."

"Still... Who would've thought this would have happened, that we would be attacked... What terrible luck."

"Eeh, I wouldn't exactly call it luck."

"What is it you mean?"

"Coming in here, dressed like the way you are, it's really only a matter of time before you would've gotten mugged."

"Is that so?"

"Yep."

"I see."

"What's that look for? It's fine, I tell you."

"If it is as you say, then we are even for the day prior."

"O-oh... I guess... Well whatever, It's fine, and," Theresa glanced over to the bloody rock which lay a few feet from them, "You really got that woman good, practically bit her finger off!" She said with a laugh. "Not really something a noble woman like you would ever be expected to do."

"I requested of her to let me go multiple times, I had no other choice."

"Hehe, is that why you hit her in the back with that rock? Not really the brightest idea."

"That's… I was left with no other choice on that matter either."

"Whatever, I don't get why you did that bit, but I'm sure it hurt that snake, so," She raised her hand in a fist, "Here's to that."

An odd pause occurred between them, Theresa's fist hanging in the air, and Amelia, head-tilted, looking at her with confusion.

"You don't know what a fist-bump is, do you."

"A… A what?"

"Jeez," She sighed, "You can be real helpless at times. Look, just put your hand into a fist."

She followed the Amazoness's instruction, lifting her left hand, "Like this?"

"Yep," Silently, she pressed her fist to Amelia's.

"How… Odd." Amelia said, confused, but smiling all the same.

"You know, that smile fits you a lot more than your usual stoic look."

"Is that so?"

"It sure is."

"I see."

Before they could continue, they were stopped by the sound of someone walking toward them.

"And what of you, Amazoness?" Shakti said, standing above them, "What is your business with this woman?"

"She's… A friend,"

"A friend?" She ushered to the vicar, "Here, let me offer you my hand, you seem to be badly wounded."

"No," Amelia said, accepting her assistance, "I am fine."

"Fine? Forgive me, but your arm appears to be broken. I can escort you to a hospital."

"She said she is fine." Theresa budded, "Aye, but there is something you can do. That woman over there, lying on the floor that you got? She stole something from us, some vials."

"You mean these?" Reaching into a pocket, Shakti pulled out six syringes, "I'm not sure what they are exactly, but they did seem far to expensive to be with the likes of her."

"They are Mermaid blood." Theresa answered, taking them from her, "Very precious."

"Mermaid blood? Why are they in syringes?" Shakti questioned, addressing Amelia.

"Now you are asking too many questions," Theresa interjected, "We're the victims here, no need to interrogate us."

"I'm sorry, it's just that I find the claim that this is Mermaid blood dubious, that's all."

"Dubious? What are you- Ah, I understand. Hey, Amelia," She turned to the pale-woman, "She thinks we are smuggling some kind of drugs."

"What?" Shakti scorned her eyes, "I insinuated no such things."

"Sure, here, watch." She handed Amelia five of the syringes, and left one for herself. "Just stab this in the thigh, right?" The vicar nodded. At the same time, they both jabbed a vial into their thighs, and within a few seconds, all their accumulated injuries disappeared.

"Well, I'll be…" Shakti whispered off, "It appears it is as you say."

"Yep. But, then, what is the Captain of the Ganesha Familia doing in this part of the city? Isn't there some hotshot rich guy who would pay a lot to have someone like you guarding them?"

Shakti shook her head in disappointment at the statement, "Of course not, I am merely on a patrol, that is all. On that matter," She grabbed out from her outfit a set of paper and a quilt, "I am going to need some kind of statement on what happened here. I'll take them back to the guild and have those two punished in a fitting way."

"Those two? Screw them. I'll tell you straight. We were just minding our own business, walking to the marketplace, when these two, and one other guy, appeared out of nowhere and just started attack-" Before she could continue, Theresa felt a soft hand grab onto her shoulder.

"Hold on," Amelia said, walking in front of the Amazoness and addressing the Captain, "What happened here… I apologize for wasting your time, but nothing happened here."

"Nothing? What are you talking about?" Shakti declared, "There was very clearly a fight."

"A fight… No, I don't see a fight as something that could've occurred."

Shakti grew thoroughly confused, "What are you saying? Well, it doesn't matter. Causing injuries onto another person, especially from one adventurer to someone who isn't, is a major offense. I need not your statement for that."

"Injuries? Forgive me prudence," Amelia said, "But neither me nor my companion here are injured."

"What? But you just used mermaid blood to heal your wounds."

Amelia went quiet, refusing to give to the accusation.

"You are genuine in your denial? Here I thought you a woman of noble standing…" Shakti shook her head, "And what of you, Amazoness. She may deny it all she wants, but you have a say in the matter. So what say you?"

Theresa had been wide eyed at the sudden defense of the people who attacked them, and only broke out of her shock when she was forced into the conversation. "Um…" She looked between the Captain and Amelia, and to the two attackers who were sitting on the ground, arms cuffed behind them. "Well… I guess… If Amelia says nothing happened, then I guess nothing happened. Even if I would personally like to rub them out myself…" She said the final part with a whisper."

"Unbelievable… Fine then, I understand how these parts are, keep to yourself. I haven't the time of day to waste here. I must continue my patrols. Just don't ever let me catch another fight breaking out between any of you again, or I'm going to take you all into custody, no questions need be answered." Shakti grit her teeth in frustration, but for the most part tried to maintain her professional demeanor. Putting away her paper, she walked over to the two assailants, uncuffed them, and set them on their way. Much to their confusion. "Tell that to the third man as well, I don't even want to see his face again." With that, she walked away to the exit of Daedalus street, gave them all one last, eagle-eyed glance, and left out of sight.

Theresa sighed, "You really just lied to the face of a level five like that, didn't you? And here I thought you didn't have an evil bone in your body. Oh well, I like you more that way." She laughed, "But then, why did you stick your neck out for those two? They were willing to sell you off."

"I understand that." Amelia said as she began to walk toward them.

Gertrude was hung over here wounded ally, and rubbed on his face with the sleeve of her shirt. "Shit Dismas, you are hurt bad, by the gods, you might just…"

"You," Amelia said from behind the beggar woman, startling her, "Gertrude is your name, correct?"

"Stay away you bitch! And that dog of an Amazoness you have!" Gertrude shouted, her face showing frustration, but her eyes portraying clear her fear.

"Calm down," Theresa said, following behind, "We ain't gonna hurt you, she's trying to help."

"How could she be doing that?"

Her question was answered, when Amelia brought out a vial of blood.

"W-wait, isn't that the mermaid blood?"

"Indeed, now please, step aside so that I may administer it to your friend, he is in critical condition."

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Amelia stepped forward and got onto her knees, to face the proning man. His face was nearly beyond recognition, and it was clear he was slipping in and out of consciousness. Whether it was from Theresa's attacks, or from the Captain's, without any sort of medical assistance, he wouldn't last long.

It took only a moment to jab the needle into his thigh, and it took only a moment longer, for all his wounds to heal, and for his eyes to widen.

"You…" He said, standing up. "You saved me…"

"I have."

The man bowed his head, "Thank you very much… Gertrude."

"W-what?"

The man, Dismas, walked up to the beggar woman, grabbed the back of her head, and forced her too, to bow before Amelia.

"Thank the woman, she gave us both these very precious things."

"T-thank you…"

The man sighed, "Sorry, my little sister can be an idiot at times, and completely rude. Doesn't know who her friends are from her enemies." He looked at the Amazoness, "And, sorry about holding my sword to you, the boss said it was what I had to do, though, it wasn't personal."

"O-oh." Thereas stuttered, "No… Problem?" This man, Dismas, was much kinder than she expected. At least, compared to the other man and apparently his little sister. Though, it can't be surprising, Theresa thought, you can become an entirely different person when money is involved.

"C-can you please let go of my head?" Gertrude asked, her voice muffled from the floor.

"That depends. Do you accept our thanks? Kind lady, we don't have any money to pay you for the blood, and we attacked you…"

Amelia smiled, "It is without issue."

Her head finally being freed, Gertrude said, "Ya… Hey uh, if you got any more of that blood, you know… My hand really hurts, I think I might have to cut it off… And the back of my head too! Ya, it's absolutely spinning, I feel faint already… I think, I think I need some more of that blood-"

"Stop," Her older brother slapped her in the leg, "Now you're just being rude, you already got one."

"B-but,"

"No 'buts."

"S-sorry…" With that, Dismas waved his hand to the two women, and left them be, with his sister in tow, grabbed and held onto by the arm.

Watching from the side, Theresa saw as the two of them left out of sight, and laughed, "What a strange bunch. That's just how it is around here… Hey, Amelia, you really will just give that blood to anyone, won't you?"

"Of course," The vicar replied without pause.

"Ya… Alright then." Theresa inhaled deeply, "Listen! I know all you people are still watching us! The fights' over, and the Ganesha Familia left!"

Startled by the shouting, Amelia looked around, and immediately noticed as dozens of people began to emerge from buildings and alleys, and filed back into the street.

"Look! I don't know if you are sick, or hungry, or damn near on the doorsteps of death! On a place called Nital street, a few blocks down that way," She pointed east with her hand, "In the largest building, Amelia here will be offering mermaid blood to any who needs it!"

People began to murmur about themselves.

"You can thank her for her kindness after! And I don't wanna see any kind of trouble! I know you all saw us fighting, I don't mind fighting any of you if you try it."

The murmurs continued.

Theresa smiled with satisfaction, and turned back to Amelia.

"That was…" Amelia trailed, "Unnecessary."

"No it wasn't," Theresa responded with a laugh, "I said I would help you spread the word of your 'Healing Church,' and I think that I did a pretty effective job."

"I see."

"Ah, you got that stoic look on your face again. Come on, we should head back, I'm sure doing what you love will make you smile more."

"What I 'love'?"

"Yep. Helping people."

Helping people? Amelia thought… Yes, she supposed.

Amelia smiled, her lips curved up, and brow lightened, with dried up blood still staining the bottom of her mouth. It expressed a type of emotion that was unimaginable through words, a mix of confusion, satisfaction, and, deep inside, a hint of glee.

"I suppose you are right. I do love helping people…"

She followed Theresa, as they made their way back to their large abode. There was much work to be done.

Much blood ministration, to be done.

Amelia's smile widened.

.

---

.

It had only taken a short time for Bell to make it to the guild of Orario.

As soon as he left the Hearth Manor and got into the streets, he began a sprint to the guild. He could've walked, it would've made little difference in anything other than how long it would take, however, he had an urge to run. He couldn't explain it, it was just something he felt.

Yet, when he got to the guild, he was forced to come to a crawling stop. From the entrance, and going outside the building along the street, a large line of people waited, some patiently, most with frustration. It surprised Bell. Not the sheer quantity of people, but the time at which they gathered. So early in the day, relatively speaking. Normally, adventurers would be out in the dungeon, or preparing to go into the dungeon at the very least, and would have no reason to go to the guild before then.

So, Bell did the only thing he could think to do, and waited in the long line. While he did, he took notice of the things around him, his mind trying to distract himself from the sudden slowness he was now forced into.

The adventurers in particular count his interest. It was the first time he had seen so many different people, since after the war game he fought in, and it shocked him just how diverse the field was. Humans, demi-humans, elves, pallums, and everything in between, of all differing ages, genders, and heights. He tried to peer over the shoulders of the people in front and behind him, to see if he could spot anyone he knew, but his short stature made that impossible.

However, something new caught his eye. Walking across the long line, which Bell now stood halfway through, was what he could only assume were members of the Ganesha Familia, judging from their outfits. Bell couldn't recall any time prior where the guild had to bring the Ganesha Familia for crowd control, even under such strained circumstances. What was causing that now?

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bell was almost inside the guild. They were only allowing people in the building in certain amounts, and when one person left, another would be allowed in. Wiping sweat from his brow, Bell was soon to be next, and he looked up to see the sky above him. Though the bright sun was shining clearly, there was a large gathering of clouds dampening the blue sky.

Not today, but maybe tomorrow, or the day after, it would probably rain, Bell thought.

As Bell reached a point where he was soon to be next to enter the guild, the door which stood aside from the main entrance suddenly flung open, and a large man with a pig-like face stomped his way through it, shouting, "You've got to be kidding me?"

Bell felt tempted to approach the man and ask him what was wrong, yet soon after, from the exit followed two members of the Ganesha Familia. Two women of much shorter stature than the man now stood between him and the door.

"Enough of your racket. You were asked to leave, now go."

"Don't bullshit me!" The man shouted, "I've got monster gems saved up from the past damn week, and they tell me they aren't going to take them still? What the hell is this!"

One of the women responded, "That doesn't mean you can jump over the desk and harass the employees!"

"Oh ya? And what are you gonna do to stop me? I'm a high-level two, I'm stronger than half the adventurers here, and probably you two as well."

From the sideline, Bell could see how the line of people seemed nervous about the situation. While at first, there appeared to be some aggression from the group, the man revealing his level seemed to have shot the entire group down. Most of them piped down their comments and retreated back into silence.

The large level two pushed his way forward to try to get back into the guild, and the two women remained in his way. "Don't force my hand." The woman who had spoken the demand to leave reached to her side to a blade which was sheathed in a hilt, and slightly pulled it out. However, before she could take it out completely, the man reached his hand to her side and grabbed at the sword, forcing it to remain closed.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it? Little lady?"

As the woman struggled from the man's grip, she looked over to her partner, a young girl that looked to be still a teenager, who remained silent till now. It was clear, even to Bell, that from her nervous form, she was new to the job, clearly intimidated by the larger, higher-level man, and how easily he was overpowering her superior. She would be no help.

Realizing she was on her own, the woman reeled back her free hand to strike at the man but was easily caught in the middle of her swing.

"Cheeky bitch, trying to surprise me like that," With a single, swift movement, he swung the woman around so that her back was facing him, and pressed her body close to his. With both his arms wrapped tightly around the woman's neck and chest, he lifted her from the ground, forcing her feet into the air. The woman kicked at nothing trying desperately to escape.

"This is what you get! This is what you get for not understanding your damn place!" The level two man tightened his grip on her, and she squealed in pain.

Yet, before he could go any further, the man was interrupted by a rough pat on his back. He quickly turned his head, "What the hell do you think your-"

"Excuse me." Like a chime, Bell Cranel spoke. He had left the line and approached the man, who had had his back turned from him. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I have to ask you to let her go."

The man made to argue against Bell, but was stifled when he got a good look at the rabbit.

"Hold on... Your the-"

Indeed, the crowd too, at that moment, realized just who exactly made their presence known. And Bell heard clearly the murmurs and whispers about him.

"The Little rookie..."

"Didn't he get to level four recently?"

"What's he doing here..."

"I bet he's got some meeting with the higher-ups at the guild..."

The man, to whom up until then had nothing but frustration and cockiness in his face, suddenly grew red. "Hold on a second little rookie, don't you get how I feel? I just came here to get my hard-earned money, but they won't give it to me. You get that, right?"

"No. Just because you're angry, doesn't mean you can just attack people, let her go." Bell said plainly, his face holding resolution.

The pig-faced man scoffed, and let go of the Ganesha Familia member, who quickly fell to her feet with gasped. "Well damn you! I bet you're in with them anyway. They always give you first-class adventurers special treatment, well what about us?"

Bell didn't answer, and instead walked up to the woman, and helped her to her feet.

Cringing with anger, the pig-faced man walked away, but not before spitting at the ground in Bell's direction.

"Are you alright?" Bell asked the woman, who grabbed onto his hand for support.

"Yes, thanks to you, Little Rookie." She said with a huff, still out of breath, "I don't think I could've handled him myself, the name is Mary, by the way."

"You should've just listened to him," Bell said with worry in his tone, "What if he hurt you badly?"

Mary shook her head, "I'm with the Ganesha Familia, I had to stop him, it's my job. Besides," She smiled, "It seems like the gods ordained a hero to save me, thank you."

The rabbit only continued to stare at her, his face remaining still in his worried expression. Mary claimed it so, but Bell didn't feel like a hero in the slightest. Rather, he felt that he did simply what was necessary to do, what anyone should do... And yet.

Looking behind him, Bell stared off to the line of people, who at this point were mixed between looking at him with awe or disdain, or looking down, pretending they didn't see anything. No one had bothered to try and help Mary, no one even said anything.

"Were you waiting in line?" Mary said, "You should've just come up, they would've let anyone who is such a high level through."

"Oh, you don't have to do that." Bell dejected.

"Nonsense." Mary glanced toward her companion, who had finally regained her courage from the confrontation with the level two man and had walked toward her superior, "Escort the Little Rookie in, and see to it that his needs are met."

Before Bell could give any protest, Mary had already moved past him to patrol along the line, and the other, younger girl came up to him and said, "Follow me, Sir." Bowing to him in the process.

This made the rabbit feel a bit sheepish, in truth. He imagined the girl had to have at least been as old as him, maybe even older. You called people sir in respect, and what had he done worthy of such respect? It didn't matter now, he supposed, and trailed behind the girl, who allowed him through the front entrance past the half a dozen or so people who were still in front of him. Bell glanced at their faces. It was impossible to not see their anger, but they said nothing, and he went along in silence.

As he finally entered the guild, he was hit immediately with a pleasant cool air, which helped to ease his heated cheeks. He hadn't noticed it, but the day was rather hot, more so than yesterday, at least. Looking around, the line didn't seem to end at the door, and people were waiting for every section of the guild. The monster gem and item exchange, the front reception desk, and whatever other features the guild had, that Bell was not privy to. Whatever it was, Bell looked around and tried to spot the one member of the guild he knew fondly, Eina. The half-elf had been his first and only guiding hand when he started adventuring, with her being his assigned advisor. He remembered fondly when he was saved from that minotaur attack, and when he ran headfirst back to the guild, how Eina forced him to take a shower. He could almost laugh. But now was not the time for laughter, he thought.

He struggled to find her, but after a few minutes, there she was, behind a counter, in what seemed to be a shouting match between her and another adventurer.

Bell approached and listened in to what they were saying,

"For the last time, there is nothing I can do about your lost weapons," Eina said.

"Like hell! How do you expect me to fight in the dungeon without any weapons? I'm not some brawler."

"That sounds like an issue you would have to bring up with your advisor."

"My advisor told me to bring it up with the public relations desk!"

"They what?! If you don't mind my asking, who is your advisor?"

"Misha Flott."

Both the adventurer at the desk and Bell were startled by the sound of Eina slamming her hands onto the counter.

"That damn-"

"Uh, Ms. Eina?" Choosing that as the moment to make himself known, Bell walked up in front of the counter, standing beside the other adventurer.

"Oh!" Eina's face grew flushed, "Bell! I'm sorry, I didn't notice you coming in. What can I help you with?"

"I just need to talk to my advisor about something, important, in private. Please."

"Right away." Eina said with a genuine smile, "We'll head into the back now."

The effect was immediate. A once sorrowed face turned sugary, and the furrowed brow of the half-half smoothened into a cheery appearance. She was clearly much, much happier to be in the presence of the rabbit than when she was not, and it was obvious to perhaps everyone who could see. Everyone except Bell.

With that in mind-

"Wait, hold on just a second," The adventurer, who had been so rudely interrupted, interjected just as Eina was leaving, "What about me?"

"Screw off! Before I have you thrown out!" The half-elf shouted, all but startling the rabbit who followed behind her closely.

They reached a familiar room, with a familiar table, one which Eina had always lectured Bell while sitting at. She sat at one side, and he sat on another.

"By the gods Bell, I'm so glad you came, I cannot begin to tell you just how stressed these past days have been."

"O-Oh? Is that so, Ms. Eina? I... I'm sorry?"

"No, no, don't be, it isn't your fault. Wait a minute, no, it is your fault! Where have you been?"

"Me?" Bell grew flushed, "I, well, I've been training, Ms. Eina, for an expedition. I actually came to talk to you about that... It's-"

"Training? Bah! Don't make me laugh at the idea!" Eina slammed her hands onto the table, the glasses on her face shook around. She took a second to realign then, and continued, "Does training involve fighting some high-level madman on the streets?"

"You know about Yama-" He stuttered, "I mean, how do you know about that?"

"It was all over the papers, everyone in the whole city knows about how the 'hero Little Rookie took down the maniac killer', what could've convinced you to do such a foolish thing? Especially with what happened after that fight you had with that black Minotaur, you aren't invincible damnit!"

"I-I'm sorry! Please don't hit me. It's just, I had to, okay? I just, couldn't... not, alright? Look, Ms. Eina, I didn't come here to talk about that,"

"You didn't? So what, you were gonna never tell me? I'm your advisor. Well, actually, ex-advisor."

"'Ex'?! No, did you get fired? Why would they do something like that?" Bell questioned with a worry which caused Eina to grow flushed herself.

"Fire me? Of course not, as if. These bastar- I mean, these people would run themselves into the ground if not for me. No, I've just been promoted." She made obvious the sarcasm in her voice when she said the word 'promoted'.

"So then... Does that mean you can't be my advisor anymore?"

Eina frantically waved her hands in front of her, "No-no-no, they couldn't stop me even if they tried, I'll always be here for you Bell, now, onto why you came. Why did you come here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, I'm very happy. Don't take that the wrong way!" She shouted, growing even redder, "It's just, these people are all so rude, and you're so nice, and- Nevermind, forget I said anything, what do you need?"

Bell paused in a confused blur, before shaking his head and gritting his eyes, "I... I came to try to get the mission given to the Hestia Familia by the guild canceled. I was told that under certain circumstances, it could be allowed. Is that right?"

The half-elf's eyes widened, "Canceled? But why? I mean, it is possible, but there has to be a legitimate cause behind it, what could have possibly happened?"

"One of my Familia members, Haruhime Sanjouno. She is... She is in no condition to go into the dungeon. She is, well, in a coma, and is in the hospital right now. I don't think we can go into the deeper floors of the dungeon in such a state, I mean, we now only have four members. Sorry if I'm being unreasonable."

"She's comatose? Haruhime... That was the Renard in your Familia right? I'm so sorry that happened, you aren't being unreasonable, in fact, I'm being unreasonable. I should've just let you get onto that at the beginning."

Bell shook his hand, "No, it's fine."

"It's not, I'll head straight to canceling your mission, I might not be an advisor anymore, but I'll make sure Royman listens, you don't have to worry."

"Thank you," He sighed, "You truly are so kind to me, Ms. Eina. Anyway, I have to get going-"

"Hold on!" Eina yelled before Bell could stand, "What about you? I've advised countless adventurers in my years and losing a member of one's Familia is always hard, or even seeing them seriously injured. Being sent into a prolonged unconscious state isn't a joke, Bell. I know you know that. Don't try to pretend like it doesn't worry you. See, I can tell from your face, you are acting like I don't know, I do."

"Ms. Eina... I'm not sure what you want me to say..."

"Look, how about this?" She took a breath, "Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, how about, you and I, like we did that one time to get you new armor, let's go out shopping, or something like that, then you can tell me everything. Don't worry about my job, I'll take the day off, they can't stop me. So, how about it, Bell? It might not be my place, I am just your advisor, I'm not a member of your Familia, but still, I am your advisor all the same, and more importantly, I'm your... I'm your friend, and I care about you. So, tomorrow, or the day after, let's go, just you and me. How about it?"

Eina had begun to pant from a lack of breath, and she waited with anxiety for Bell's answer. Yet, she had already steadied her beating heart, and Bell had yet to give a response, and instead remained quiet.

"Come on Bell, don't leave a woman hanging like that, I-"

"I'm sorry Eina," Bell finally said, "I... I can't, sorry. I should get going, really, sorry for leaving so early, but, I don't know." Bell stood up. "Goodbye, Ms. Eina, thank you for everything you've done for me."

Bell walked out of the door he came from, and left the guild quickly, not bothering to heed any words of departure from Eina. However, he didn't need to, for Eina had no words to say.

.

---

.

Half drunk, half dead, and completely out of his wits, the Beast Hide assassin of the Church, Brador, stumbled about the streets of Orario.

In his hand, was an empty bottle of… Some kind of alcohol. He wasn't too sure. It didn't matter. No matter how much he seemed to drink, nor how strong the drinks were, he could hardly ever get drunk. If anything, they only seemed to numb his senses.

That was good enough, and so, he drank with every cent he had, that is, every cent he stole. Old as he was, numbed as he was, he was still a skilled assassin. His entire life, he had served with his skills in that field. Decades he gave to the Church. Now look at him. Once he fought for the greatest institution that had ever existed. Now, he uses that very experience to rob from some average man, just so he could serve himself in booze,

The greatest institution… What a joke. Brador could almost laugh. How worthless it all was. He couldn't complain. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that the Church be left to rot, and all its sin washed away in the rain. It was probably better.

Still.

Where did that leave him?

Brador knew. Stuck drinking, wandering some street, scaring the locals.

"Papa," A little girl said, well within ear of the assassin, "What is wrong with that old, scary looking man?

"Him?" The father replied, "You don't want to talk to those of his kind. He probably is sick, something in his head. Come on, let's go the other way."

Well, damn you too, Brador thought. Maybe he ought to just chase after them, just to scare them…

No, he hadn't the energy nor desire. All he was looking for was some place to sleep.

Well, he was also looking to dodge the stalker following him.

He assumed that whoever was trailing him, going from rooftop to rooftop, didn't notice yet that he was aware of the man. But he saw, as soon as the mysterious stalker appeared, as he too had done such things during his time.

What did the stalker want? It had been at least an hour or so since they started. Surely he couldn't have wronged someone so quickly that they sent someone to kill him, so what? It annoyed Brador to no end. He wanted to be left alone. He thought of just confronting the stalker, but then, how to go about it? Just stop in the middle of the street and shout up? They might just leave if that was the case, and someone might just think him so crazy as to call some enforcement on him.

Though, he had an idea.

Coming upon an alleyway, one which was fairly wide and deep, Brador made a sudden turn to walk straight into it. He made his way to the dead end, where a few boxes were stacked. He pressed on one with his hand, and finding that it was solid, made them his seat, and waited.

He waited not long, as soon after, a shadow jumped down from the neighboring building's rooftop. The figure blocked the exit from Brador, not that he had any intention of leaving until dealing with the stalker, but still.

The figure was short, at least half a foot shorter than Brador himself. He had a skin-tight shirt with no sleeves, and a leather band wrapped around his chest. Black hair, white skin, and…

"What is with those animal ears… Hedonism must be what drives this place…" Brador whispered to himself. The stalker, like many he had seen before, had characteristics of an animal. That is, the ears and tail of a cat.

The stalker judged Brador's appearance just as much as Brador did his, if his feline-like eyes were anything to go by.

"What could the mistress want with you…?"

"The hell was that kid?" Brador suddenly proclaimed, "Why… Why have you been stalking me… It's annoying."

The stalker snickered in disgust, "Listen well, you old fool. Mistress Freya has demanded your presence."

"Freya? Sorry… I don't have the faintest damn clue as to who that is…"

"Then you will learn. On your feet old man."

"I don't think so… My feet are hurting… I think I'll stay right here. Shaking you off has made this old man tired."

The cat-man slanted his eyes, "You have no choice, either stand or…" Within a split second, the man had closed the gap between, faster than Brador expected, and appeared right before him, "I will make you."

The speed was something unprecedented, and Brador was nearly knocked off the box. So, it seemed he underestimated the people of this world. He had believed that since there was no blood, and there were no hunters, there weren't people half as capable as he was. Yet, that was a mistake. It was either to fight, or obey. He had no wish to listen to him, in fact, he almost felt insulted. Here he was, walking, minding his own business, and then this strange beast-man comes and demands of him something ridiculous, threatening him. No, it wasn't right. An honorless, disgraceful assassin like him, even like him, is worthy of some respect. Especially toward one who couldn't have known his past. No, listening would be disgraceful.

Brador grunted, "Fine, then, just… Don't waste my time…" With a sigh, he stood from the boxes.

The stalker hummed, "Good, at least you haven't gone completely senile." The cat-man turned away, "Follow me, and don't expect me to go slow, if you trip and fall and die on the way, then it's no problem to me."

"Really? Seems like whoever this Freya is… For you to tail me for an hour… She wouldn't be too happy if I ditched you halfway there… Maybe you will get sprayed with some water… As punishment."

To that, the cat-man quickly turned back around, his sharp teeth barring at him, and his posture aggressive, as though he was about to attack.

"Haha…" Brador laughed dryly, "It seems I hit the nail on the head…"

"Just," The cat-man said sharply, "Follow me, we shouldn't keep her waiting."

"Lead the way… Ya' brat…"

.

---

.

The first thing Bell noticed when he entered the main Dian Chect Familia hospital, was the sheer chaos of the staff.

No, maybe that was a wrong assessment. For, as he looked onto the mass of employees, nurses, doctors, and all else who would work at a hospital, he couldn't help but feel there was some sense to their movement. People ran through doors, carrying papers or technologies that Bell hadn't the slightest clue to what their natures were. There was talking among the staff, not casual talking, but important, health work related discussions that needed to be done quickly.

It was far different from the Guild. The Ganesha Familia had sought to establish order, even at the cost of dissatisfaction or long waits. The Dian Chect Familia seemed to have a methodology of 'do things in what means gets them down the quickest.' Bell wasn't entirely sure if that was a good, or bad philosophy to have while running a hospital. Though, they all seemed to know what they were doing, no one was running into another person or getting in the way. They had it all down to practice. He could see why, despite them being a relatively weak Familia, with their highest member only being a level two, that they were one of the wealthiest. Their skills were unmatched.

It was these thoughts that comforted him, as he approached the front counter of the entrance hall of the hospital, where a man was working away at a set of papers.

"Excuse me?" Bell said timidly.

The receptionist slowly turned his gaze up to Bell, his eyes cold and unmoving. He stared at Bell for a moment, before saying, "Yes?"

"I'm here to visit someone?"

The man cleared his throat, "We are not accepting any visits right now, please come back another time." The man looked back down to his papers.

"B-but…!" Bell yelled. "I… One of my Familia members was brought here, just yesterday, I have to see her." Indeed, he couldn't go back to the Hearth Manor without something, not after what Lily said.

"Apologies… But no." The man said, not bothering to even look up.

"But-" Bell tried to shout.

"If that is all you have for us today, then may you please leave? If you do not, I will be forced to call security."

The rabbit was at a loss for words, but, even still, he refused to turn back around. His eyes narrowed with determination, "I am not going until I see my friend, I just want to visit for a short time."

The man shook his head, and was about to shout something until-

"What is going on here?"

From behind the counter, a woman appeared from an opened door. She wore a blue and white outfit with a golden outline, and her hat bore similar features. She had silver hair and purple eyes, and her expression was stoic.

"C-captain Airmid." The man quickly stood from his seat, "I was just trying to explain to this man that we are not allowing visitors, as you have dictated."

"I thought we were to write that in the papers, who is it?" The doctor looked over, and saw Bell standing there, oddly. "You're the Little Rookie, correct?"

"Um, yes?"

"What do you want?"

"T-to see a friend, someone named Haruhime."

"Haruhime? Is she a renard? Alright, come with me."

"Hold on," The receptionist man said, "I thought we weren't supposed to allow anyone in?"

"Don't worry yourself over it, just strike this from your memory, it's better that way. Come on Little Rookie, stick close to me." Airmid said, strutting through a door which led further into the hospital.

Bell hurried, got over his own confusion, and rushed after the Captain, eager to see Haruhime, and to not get lost. As he stepped into the interior, everything that was true about the seemingly chaos and rapidness of the outer wing of the hospital was only ten folded in the inner area. There was barely enough space to walk through the halls. All hands on deck, it seemed.

"Apologies about the reception, it appears they didn't get the memo."

"The memo? About what?"

"You don't know? Hmm, you really are as they say, Little Rookie. Let me just say that, after some previous incidents, we now know better than to deny a high-ranking adventurer what they want."

The rabbit wasn't sure what she was talking about, but he did have some questions, "Why is everything so…"

"Chaotic?"

"Ya'."

Airmid laughed, bitterly, "With the plague going around, we have been completely overbooked on every corner."

"The plague?"

"Yes, it's supposed to be confidential, but I won't deny it to someone like you. There has been some illness, I suspect it to be bacterial, that has been going through the poorer areas of the city. It probably passes through water, and other bodily fluids, but that might not be the end of it. Quite the terrible thing it is. It starts with coughing, a fever, as most do. Then, we have observed that within a few days it can quickly lead to the regurgitation of blood and blemishes in the skin. And then, eventually…"

She trailed off, and Bell was about to ask her to finish, until someone caught the corner of his eye. In a far off sect of the hospital, away from all the bustling, a group of men were loading off large sacks into a cold room, half a dozen at a time.

Bell could at least figure that part out, and what this plague would do to someone.

"It doesn't appear to highly affect those who are of higher levels, but we haven't had enough testing done in it yet. That's all I'll say on the matter to you." She stopped, in front of a room "We are here, this is Haruhime Sanjouno's room. I will be off, feel free to leave on your own discretion. No one will stop you."

Before Bell could ask anything more, Airmid turned away from him, "And, about that plague, I ask that you keep it a secret. At least, from the public." She walked toward the end of the hall they were in, and turned a corner, out of sight.

The rabbit paused in silence at the door, contemplating, perhaps trying to brace himself for when he saw Haruhime. The boy shut his eyes, and steeled. He had faced down death time and time again, he could… He could do it here. So, with a breath, Bell opened the door.

And he came face to face with a nurse, hovering over an unconscious Haruhime, who was lying on a bed.

"Oh!" The nurse woman jolted, "I'm sorry, we aren't allowing any visitors." The woman had a mask on with gloves, and was currently examining Haruhime's body. "You'll have too-"

"Actually, Miss Airmid let me in, she said it was fine."

"The Captain did? That means… I'm sorry, I don't really keep up with stuff like this, who are you?"

"I'm Bell Cranel."

And immediately, her blue eyes, which were exonerated by the mask she wore, widened. "Holy shi- I mean, you're the Little Rookie? Oh ya, she was from the Hestia Familia," The woman looked down at Haruhime, "I-I'm sorry for asking you to leave, please, you can stay as long as you like."

Why was she nervous? No matter, Bell was here, so that was good enough. He walked to the center of the room, where Haruhime was lying, and the nurse backed away. He had thought of things to say to her, while she slept, that maybe she could hear him. But, now, with this woman here, he felt rather embarrassed to say anything. So instead, he grabbed onto one of Haruhime's hands, and prayed to Hestia she would get better.

"So…" Bell suddenly said, still holding the renard's hand. "What's- What's wrong with Haruhime?"

"O-oh, Ah, w-well, we aren't exactly sure? W-we know it's some kind of head trauma injury, but most specialization doctors are all occupied."

"Really? That's unfortunate."

"Y-ya… That's actually… Something else I have to say to you, we were going to deliver a letter, b-but since you're here…" The nurse trailed off.

"What is it?"

"Well… The hospital plans on using this wing to house more people infected by the Plague- wait, wasn't that confidential information?" The nurse trailed off, "Well, I'm sure you saw it coming in here. So... A-anyway, they decided to send Haruhime home. I was actually here doing some check ups on her, to make sure her condition is stable. T-thats it, I'm sorry!"

Again, still very nervous, what for? "It's okay then, I understand. If she is in stable condition then, that must mean she will wake up soon, right? It will be better to have her back with us anyway, for peace of mind."

"Y-ya."

"Thank you for taking good care of her, when do they plan on releasing Haruhime?"

"Tomorrow."

"Alright. You hear that, Haruhime? You'll be back with us in no time, alright? Everyone is worried about you, Welf, Lily, Hestia, Mikoto, and especially me. I don't think we can last without you. So just, wake up, soon. But take your time. We all…" Bell was at a lost for what else to say, "We all love you, okay? We all do." With that, the Rabbit decided he would stay for a little bit longer, then leave back to his Familia to tell them that good news.

"You know…" However, from his side, he heard the nurse speak. "I'm actually surprised… That you came to visit. Very rarely do familia members get actual visits from other Familia members."

"What? Why are you surprised about that?"

"It's just their rumors, that's all."

"Rumors?"

"It is. Well, don't take offense, but when you first walked in here… Well, let's just say most high level adventurers have very little care or respect. But you actually seem… Nice? Guess all the rumors about the 'heroic' Little Rabbit weren't so exaggerated... Sorry, don't take offense."

To that, Bell actually grew flustered at such the earnest compliment, "It's no problem. I just do what I have to, no matter what people say, Miss…?"

The nurse's eyes widened slightly, "How careless of me, my name is Isabella. I'm just a level one of the Dian Cecht Familia, but really, most of my time is spent in the hospital and not in the dungeon. But, I think I know the feeling you are going through."

"The feeling?"

"Yes. The feeling of wanting to talk to someone again, but you just can't. Is that what you feel like now? I have a brother you know, he's an adventurer, but I haven't seen him in years. I try to write to him, but I don't even know if he bothers, I don't even know if he wants to talk to me… I'm sorry, this is far to much, please forget I said anything-"

"No-no," Bell suddenly said, "Feel free, I can listen to anything."

"Well, it's kind of like this, really. I just wish one day he would, well, wake up, for lack of a better word. So we can talk again. At first, I thought you were some big thing, but I guess you are just a person, like me. Sorry if that's weird to say."

"It's not." Bell shook his head.

"G-good… I just have a terrible time with emotions, if I feel something, I gotta say it, even if it's to someone who won't listen. Damn, this is embarrassing."

"Haha!" Bell bursted out into a soft laugh, "I think I get that completely."

"You do? Well, I guess you really are something special."

Now, out of sheer reciprocity, Bell responded, "You're special too."

The nurse, Isabella, who was probably just a few years older then Bell, blushed, "T-thank you? Would you look at the time? I should be on to the next patient. You-you can stay as long as you like." The nurse quickly walked out of the room, before Bell had anything else to say.

Did he do something weird? Bell didn't think so, this was just how he treated everyone. Bell gripped onto Haruhime's hand, well, it didn't really matter, he wouldn't be back here anyway. Haruhime would be home by tomorrow.

.

---

.

Brador had been led into the very center of the city, to the inside of an extraordinarily large tower, which reached into the heavens itself.

Right now, he was riding up an elevator which was shooting up to the very top of the structure. He had nothing to say, though his mind was indeed full of questions. To the cat-man who remained at his side, he couldn't be bothered to ask.

Said cat-man was leaning against one of the metal sides of the elevator, with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. He was clearly frustrated. Brador wondered if it was the fact that he was forced to act as an escort, or maybe it was his insult from earlier, or some other reason. It was funny, however, Brador did find his expression comical.

"Listen, old man." The cat-man spoke out loud, not even bothering to open his eyes as he did so, "You stay by my side, and don't think of wandering off. And when we get to mistress Freya, you better be grateful for her meeting, if you say even anything slightly disrespectful, I'll throw you off Babel, got it?"

"What's… With that attitude? Someone step on your tail?" As Brador said that, he moved his left foot over to where the cat-man's tail was hanging lazily, falling to the floor. He hung it over, and slowly pressed down on it, not meaning to actually step on it, but just to get a reaction.

And a reaction he received. The very moment his boot touched the very tip of the gray hair of the fur of the tail, the Demi-human moved. In an instant, the once expressionless cat-man's eyes shot open, and he bared his clawed hands out. Brador gasped as the breath in his lungs was knocked out, as the cat-man lunged at him, pressing him against the adjacent metal wall.

The cat-man held him still with his left hand, and with his right, brought a claw up to Brador's neck. "Try something like that again, so help me Freya, I will kill you. Damn be the punishment. Got that? You senile, drunk, homeless and poor bastard?"

Brador, in spite of the threats, laughed. This was the second time, the second time one of these cat people called him homeless. Was that simply a thing about this lot? That they were a presumptuous group? He laughed at the thought.

"Tsk… Don't, piss me off again." The cat-man said, finally backing off him.

The remaining elevator ride took another minute or so, and the exit opened wide to demonstrate a large, flat room that was empty to all but a single chair which was pointed toward the windows. The entire walls of the flat room were nothing but large glass panes, from one side to the next, which gave a clear day view of the entire city.

Brador had to concede, and he breached into the room, that the sight was beautiful. This… labyrinth of a city was much larger than he expected, and there were walls surrounding the state. If he had to guess, the city seemed just a little smaller than Yharnam.

From the chair, which stared out the window, a woman stood. With silver hair which reached down to her waist and amethyst eyes, she adorned a black dress with red flaring outlines which barely covered a fraction of her white skin. Despite how she was shorter than himself, Brador couldn't help but feel as though she was looking down upon him.

"Mistress Freya," From his side, the cat-man got on bended knee, and bowed his head.

"My de~arest Allen," The beautiful woman, Freya, said, "You've done well, I'll be sure to reward you justly in time." Her voice carried a sultry behind it that even Brador could feel hit against him. This woman, she wasn't normal. Her beauty… It was something otherworldly, like he was gazing into the stars or the silver moon.

The beautiful woman turned her attention to Brador, "So, you are one of those people behind that most fascinating glow which appeared recently. How wonderfully strange, how one moment there was nothing, and the next, there is you. And others like you."

Brador felt desperately that he needed to say something, to at the very least get air to flow through his hitched lungs, "You-" His own breath caught, as he tried to speak, but he forced himself forward, "You've been watching me?"

The woman laughed, no, it's more like she giggled. An intentionally soft yet burning sound, "I see all from up here, all that man has to offer, and you, I'm sure, have much to offer me." She once again laughed, "Where are my manners? I am Freya, head deity of the Freya Familia, the goddess of Beauty. Would you, my dear, honor me with your name?"

Brador opened his mouth, but no words came out. When was the last time he felt like this? Where he felt this… Weak. He was an assassin of the Church, he had their blood flowing through him, and though he felt no pride in it, it shook him that any woman could cause him to feel this way.

A woman… Freya, he had never heard the name, but she apparently called herself the goddess of beauty. That was most fitting a title, Brador thought.

He had to say something, this feeling… He hated it. This feeling of powerlessness, he had to turn away from it. His eyes looked around, for some kind of reprieve.

"A reward… That is what you said you would give this… Cat-man? What would that be, a belly rub?" Brador dryly laughed to himself, "Or maybe… Something more to your nature? That a woman of your… pulchritudinousness, it makes sense… That you would be cheap like a prostitute."

In an instant, Brador felt a great pain in the back of his knee, and a hand upon his head, forcing him to the floor.

"You would have the gall!" Atop him, Allen yelled, "You speak to Lady Freya in such a way? You are not worthy to lick her boots," The cat-man lifted his hand, and in its place, he slammed the bottom of his foot, and grinded Brador's cheek against the floor.

Despite that, Brador laughed dryly, "Perhaps… You would find that pleasurable?"

Allen's face burned with hatred, and he lifted his foot to slam against the Brador's head.

However, Freya spoke before he got the chance, "Allen, dear, you have made your point. I am not offended by his comment."

The cat-man's head flashed to the side, and looked at Freya with disbelief, "But, but mistress? He is just some crazy old man, he is nothing compared to you."

Freya nodded, "And that is why his comment is meaningless to me. Enough dejection from you, dear, come to my side." She beckoned the cat-man with her hand, "Let the man stand."

Though frustrated, Allen got off him quickly approached Freya, remaining at her side, but his scorn for Brador never disappeared.

Standing back up, Brador patted the back of his head, "Damn feral kitten."

"Please, dear guest," Freya said, "I must ask that you stop teasing my dearest Allen, he can still be but a child at times."

"Better to… Keep him on a leash."

Freya laughed, "Now then, your name, dear guest. I do hope you can find your voice, I don't intend to whelm you."

He cleared his throat, "It's… Brador."

"Brador? What a wonderfully foreign name, like your clothes, like your existence, truly foreign. Before I say anything else, I must know," Freya stood from her chair, and took a single step forward, closing some of the distance between the two of them, "That strange thing you have adorned on your head, where did you come across it?"

It didn't take a thought to know she was talking about the monstrous antlers that he wore, he was certain that almost all the strange looks he received from people were because of them.

"Were they from some sort of animal? Or maybe, a monster drop? You do have some years behind you, Brador."

"These things?" Brador said, pointing to his head, "I found them."

"You found them? Where?"

"In the gutter."

Freya grew a look which appeared as though she was genuinely interested in his explanation, like she was trying to further understand him, just from what he said. He lied, of course, but he was sure that she could see through it. In fact, now Brador grew worried that lying may have been a more preferable answer to her desires then telling the truth would've been.

"Why," Brador suddenly said, "Why have you had your cat bring me here…? What is it you want?"

The goddess smiled, "Yes, I have called you for a reason. First, I have a question for you, forgive me if I am being too prudent."

Brador sighed, "Ask away…"

"Then, how about this? Join my Familia, why don't you?"

"Your… What?"

"My Familia, the Freya Familia, I no doubt will have much to offer you, even in your late days."

"What… What is a… Familia?"

"You don't know what a Familia is?"

Brador shook his head, "I know as much of that… As I do you, that is… Nothing at all."

For some reason, the goddess smiled with satisfaction, "Then, if you don't know, forget it. I was merely confirming something. Now, I must say, what is that strange magic you have?"

"Magic?"

"Yes, that magic, which lets you go from one place to another. That magic which gives the ability, if it may be temporary I don't know, to become youthful once again. The ability you had used to fight against that man, who had a similar glow to you. What is it?"

Brador grew worried, she knew that much? Was this woman truly of divine nature? It was impossible, he made sure no one saw him use that sinister bell, so how did she?

"That's… None of your business." He gave a straight forward denial.

"That is fine, I'll just assume it is some sort of magic item, if you don't even know what a Familia is, I doubt it is some kind of skill or spell. For what I want, it could be anything."

"Tell me, Brador," Freya turned around to look outside the spanning windows, "Can you see the coming storm?"

"A storm? It does look like… It's going to rain."

She laughed, "Not these ominous clouds, not these fabric of white air, but the fabric of existence itself."

"What?"

"Call it the intuition of the divine, but I could start feeling it just a few days ago. That something truly extraordinary is making its way here, something truly… Terrible. It is almost enough to give me a fright, and a thrill. You needn't worry yourself on that matter, but rather, to what I say now. There is a boy, the same boy whose life you saved the day before, with white hair and red eyes, named Bell. He is strong, but he is not strong enough, not enough if he is to weather the coming storm. I ask you to use your odd magic to train him."

"Me? Why not ask that cat at your side?"

"Perhaps this is also a matter of my intuition, but I feel that it is better that someone of your… Aura, is the one to train him. Don't feel the need to hold back, push him to the very end of his abilities, there is no other way."

"How ridiculous… A request."

"Is it, dear Brador? That a man like you be sent to the home of another, to make use of your skills, to do harm? Is that so odd a question to ask, of an assassin?"

"How do you-"

"Call it," Her smile grew, "A goddess's intuition. I'm not forcing you, I'll even have Allen leave you alone from here on out if you say no, I just wish to have an answer. So what will it be?"

The obvious answer, to everyone present, was no. For what reason would Brador have to align himself with this woman, and her goals? He was a tired, exhausted man, who just wanted to drink, he wouldn't deny it. The last time he served… In the Church, that was a different time, a different place. So, in this new land, was he willing to make use of the blood he hated so, for such a foolish request?

"Why… Are you asking me to do such a thing? What does that white-haired boy have to do with you?

Freya laughed a sensual thing, "He means everything to mean, dear Brador. My whole reason for being here. That's because I love him, Brador, do you understand what it's like to love?"

"You… Love? You would have me beat the boy down… For love?"

"Yes, I would love him more if you did so."

"You are most certainly… A freakish deviant."

Allen suddenly growled from Freya's side, but he remained still, as the goddess laughed once again, "You wound me. So, what will it be? Will you take me up on my offer?"

"Well," The assassin pondered, "What do you have to offer me?"

"Anything you wish for."

"Anything… A drink, I could use some drink. And, a place… to shelter from the storm that the clouds will bring.

"All of those, and more. You can stay in our Familia home, if you please."

"Hold on just a moment, mistress," Allen hastily interrupted, "I cannot approve of a stranger like him remaining too close to you, I doubt anyone in our Familia could."

Brador sneered, "Ought to keep a muzzle on him…"

"Hold on, it appears my dearest Allen is right on the matter. My children, they can be quite irrational when it comes to my safety, I love them all the more for it. But still, it would cause unnecessary problems, for both me and you, if you were to find shelter here."

"So what, then?" Brador said, "No housing? Then no deal…"

"Hold on, I didn't say that," Freya waved her finger, "If you agree to my deal, then I will have a place for you to stay, all expenses paid, and with the finest alcohol Valis can buy."

"Valis? If that's what money is called, then… I suppose you've got a deal. Where is this place?"

Freya flashed an amused smile, "A tavern, one you are familiar with."

.

---

.

The day traversed quickly, as the moon soon ascended on the great city of the gods once again.

Now, grayish clouds covered the entire sky, not a spec of the cosmic high up, nor of any of the shining stars were visible. Not even the waxing moon. The night was blinding on this day.

It was in this pitch black, that Shakti Verma, the level five captain of the Ganesha Familia, was patrolling the most inner parts of the impoverished area of Orario. The dutiful woman spent most of her recent nights like this. Not back at the Familia home taking care of some paperwork, not in the dungeon fighting monsters, but personally seeing to it that there was peace in the most reckless parts of the city.

Latched to her back was a bronze spear, a ranseur spear. In her left hand, she waved a lantern, fueled by a monster gem. It was the standard, box-like design of a lantern, but on one end, a hole had been cut into it. This, in turn, allowed for a beam of light to shine through it, illuminating whichever direction it was pointed at. This is what allowed Shakti the minimal amount of vision she had.

For the most part, she was quiet, honing her ears to try and pick up on the most sleight of disturbances to the frozen night. The only sound which echoed through the darkness however, was the sizzling of the lantern she used, and the sound of footsteps.

Her footsteps, and…

"Damnit all, why the hell did Finn put me up to this stupid job."

From Shakti's side, a man spoke with a foul tone. This man was Bete Loga, a level six werewolf of the Loki Familia. Earlier in the day, his captain, Finn, approached him and ordered him to assist Shakti in her investigations. This in of itself sounded similar to telling him to watch paint dry, and he was already hesitant to even listen to the order.

"I don't get it, why are we even here?" Bete said, shaking in his hand a similar lantern to the one Shakti used.

"The people who we are hunting could appear anywhere, but for the most part, the majority of the killings have been in this area of the city, and the red-light district. I already have capable people patrolling that area, and you and I will take here."

Bete clicked his tongue, "How dumb. So what if a couple weaklings are biting the dust? Someone gets shanked in a robbery gone wrong, and how a bunch of higher-level adventurers are up in the middle of the night, looking for the guy who did it."

"I would say, it's a bit more than a 'shanking'." Shakti reached into her pocket, got out a small booklet of papers, and flashed her light onto it. "Just yesterday, over a hundred people, Amazonesses, Demi-humans, elves, and people all the like, were massacred, in the red-light district."

"Over a hundred?" That fact caught Bete by surprise, "Did a bloody monster break out of the dungeon again? You're sure it's not that?"

"Beyond the fact that we would've found such a monster already, at the scene, we found multiple throwing knives, and strange metal shrapnels, this was clearly done by someone with mind enough to use weaponry. Even a level three was killed among them."

"Hold on, hold on, you said in the red-light district…" Bete's face grew worried, "Do you know if, shit, someone named Lena Tally was a part of that?"

"Lena Tally? One second," Shakti flipped through her booklet, until she came across a page with a large number of names on them. "Let me see… No, it doesn't seem a Lena Tally was a part of the casualties, however, a lot of the bodies were damaged beyond recognition, so we don't have the names of all the dead."

"That damn woman, always a pain. Fine! Whatever, let's just hurry up with this patrolling, I wanna get back to my bed."

They continued on their route for what seemed like another hour, with only the occasional comment from Bete, or more like a complaint. But he heeded, and Shakti showed no offense, or even care, to any of his oddness.

"Hold on," Shakti noticed someone approaching them from the darkness, and shined her light on them. From the light appeared Aisha Belka, a level four amazoness, walking toward them, great Podao in hand, her expression fierce.

"What is the captain of the Ganesha Familia doing here? And Bete of the Loki Familia? Must be a party I wasn't invited to."

"Antianeira," Shakti spoke the Amazoness's alias, "We are on a patrol in these parts, I ask that you leave us be, so that we may return to it."

"A patrol? What's the occasion?"

"Standard protocol."

"Ba! Don't kid with me, Shakti. The last time the Ganesha Familia showed any care for the people, the Astraea Familia were still around. No, you are here about what happened yesterday, the massacre at the party house."

"That is confidential information, something you need not know."

"Confidental?" Aisha stomped her way to right in front of Shakti, looking down on the captain, "Don't fuck with me, I knew half the people who died there, I'm gonna find whoever thought they could mess around with my part of the city."

"Well," Shakti replied, "I wish you luck, Antianeira."

Aisha continued to eye-up Shakti, "This is what I hate about you Ganesha Familia members, pretending you care, I don't know if it was the guild who told you to come here, or your Familia, but just go back to your mansions. I've protected these streets for a decade."

Never mind the fact that Shakti was a part of the Ganesha Familia, and serving the city from before Aisha was born, she found it insulting the idea that she cared not for every person in the city. However, she made no rebuttal, and instead just narrowed her eyes. She certainly had much on her mind, but for the sake of dealing with this situation peacefully, she held her tongue. The last thing Shakti wanted was to get into a fight with a level four.

However, "Protecting these streets?" Bete laughed, "You call letting those hundred people die yesterday protecting? I bet those half who were your friends really are thanking you for the protection from the grave."

"The fuck did you say?"

"You heard me."

Within a flash, Aisha had already swung her great Podao at the werewolf's face, however, Bete just smiled. While through the Amazoness's mind, there was rage, Bete couldn't help but be pleased. Finally, he thought, something to pass the time. The Podao was within less than a hair to Bete's face, and then-"

"Hold on!" Knocking the breath out of his lungs, Bete felt a weight push against his chest, and he stumbled backwards.

"What the hell?" Looking down, he pointed his lantern to the sudden object which hit him, and there, arms wrapped around his chest, was Lena Tally.

"Come on Aisha~?!" Lena yelled, "You promised you wouldn't start anything with my Bete."

"I never said anything like that," Aisha responded, bringing her great Podao back to her side, "I just said you could follow me."

"Get off of me." Bete halfheartedly pushed the petite Amazoness away from him, yet Lena only held onto him tighter.

"No way. When I went to your Familia home, they said you had gone out patrolling in the ghetto, and I thought, 'oh no, Bete is gonna get into a fight with some homeless guy, and get into trouble with the guild, then he'll get exiled, and we can't get married', and it made my heart sink. So I had to come and find you, all the while being worried out of my mind, do you understand that? I was actually very worried about you, I'm not joking, stop smirking! You hear me? Stop!"

Despite her protests, Bete laughed, but not at her. No, nothing she said he found comedic. What he laughed at, was himself. For, not just a few minutes before these two arrived, he had the same worried feeling about her. What was wrong with him? That he was genuinely worried, when Shakti couldn't confirm that she wasn't one of those who died yesterday. And this damn dark and quiet patrol only served to play into his anxiety.

Indeed, he understood the feelings Lena had, but he would never admit it.

"I said get off!" Bete shouted, slapping her away, and sending her to the ground.

"That hurt…"

"I don't even know how you managed to see anything in this dark." Shakti suddenly spoke, questioning the level four Amazoness.

"Live out here for a couple years, and your eyes get used to it. Come on Lena, let's go."

"Wha~t? Already? But I just found Bete?"

"No 'buts'- I gotta escort you home now, and I doubt they would want to deal with you."

"Fine. But you gotta promise you won't go killing anyone, you hear me, Bete? Or I'm seriously gonna be disappointed."

"I ain't promising you anything."

"I'll take that as your word for it, bye!" Just as quickly as they arrived, Aisha and Lena departed, but not before the taller Amazoness turned and gave Shakti and Bete a dirty look.

Bete rubbed the back of his head, "How annoying."

"Amazoness's can be a rowdy bunch."

With that, they continued their patrol, reaching in the deepest depths of the night.

"Seriously, I'm getting exhausted from staring into the nothing, do you plan to do this all night?"

It had been at least another two hours since their encounter with Aisha, and nothing changed after the time in their routine. They walked a specific route throughout the area at least a dozen times now, and not a soul sparked.

"Hmm. We will go about our route one last time, then we shall call it. Even if we find nothing, at least we can ensure that this part of the city is safe."

"You know," Bete said, "I don't get that."

"Don't get what?"

"You, and even that annoying amazoness, both you got this idea in your heads that you can protect the people around you, you can't."

Shakti cocked her eyebrow at him, "Of course I can, look around here, do you see any criminal activity occurring? Surely the lull of the night would show that fact clearly."

"That's only what's right in front of you. I bet as we speak, there is someone being killed, right on your site."

"Well, you cannot possibly expect anyone in existence to have the sort of all-knowingness you seek, we do what we can."

"What you can ain't good enough."

"So then what do you purpose we do?"

"You? Nothing, nothing at all, then you got a solution. Let those who are weak get picked off, and eventually no one will be wronging one another. Simple."

Shakti looked at Bete as though we were crazy, "That is utter insanity, chaos, anarchy."

"Maybe that's what the people need, eh'? Just a little bit of chaos, and things will be whipped back into order."

The Ganesha Familia captain glared at him for another second, "I know this, you are just trying to get a reaction out of me, I know the stigma behind the Vanargand, and his crassness. So be it, we will end the patrol here then."

"Oh'? Already giving up? And here I was hoping I could make up for not being able to mess with that amazoness."

Shakti was about to give a rebuttal, something to do with regretting having asked the Loki Familia for assistance, but the sound of footsteps approaching from the distance forced her mouth shut. She looked over at Bete, who gave her a shrug, and she turned in the direction of where the footsteps were coming from.

"Who goes there? Why are you out past curfew?"

She was given no response, other than the continued slow pace of the footsteps. She shined her lantern in the direction of the noise, and, for just a moment, she saw the faintest silhouette of a man, before they dashed back into the darkness in a streak of yellow.

"Looks like we got trouble."

"Don't speak so swiftly," Shakti snapped at Bete, "We still don't know for certain who it is. Make yourself known, this is under the authority of the Ganesha Familia and the guild!"

Still no response.

"Vanargand, you remain here, I will-" Then, in a burst, she felt her instincts as a level five flare up, forcing her to lift her hand up to eye-level. The only thing which warned her was a gleam in the dark, and in a second, she caught an object which was sent directly at her face. Shakti blinked, opened her hand, and saw a throwing knife.

From shock, to anger, to resolution, Shakti let the throwing knife fall to the ground, and retrieved her spear, which was latched onto her back.

"What did I say?" She ignored Bete's snarky remark.

"Stand, scum! Do not scurry in the shadows!"

"I don't think that's gonna convince 'em."

Prepared and alert, Shakti's eyes followed the dozen more throwing knives which came from the darkness. This time, she was able to either dodge or deflect all of them with ease.

"Seems like they really want you dead."

"Do you intend to help, Vanargand? Or do you plan to just run your mouth?"

"Eh', you got this."

With a click of her tongue, she prepared for another volley, and a glimmer from the light made her narrow her eyes. After this next attack, she would make to pursue whoever their attacker was, and bring them to just-.

"You might want to watch out for that one."

"Will you please, shut up, Vanargand?" For a moment, her attention was taken by Bete, and it was in that moment that another object was thrown at her through the air, and, it was only as it reached within arm-length of Shakti, did she realize it was not like the throwing knives she was expecting.

It was a molotov.

In an instant, she jumped to her side, a few paces away. The spot she was just in was consumed in flames. It was in her haste that, while she held a tight grip on her spear, the lantern that was once in her left hand had slipped from her grip, and shattered on the ground.

"Damn, they nearly got you with that one."

Ignoring Bete once more, Shakti leaped into the darkness, her stoic face consumed by her anger.

"And there she goes, I'll never understand people like her. Hell, I'll never understand-" Bete turned around, and there, another figure, a man, shrouded in black, had tried to sneak up on him, "-people like you, don't you know my level, you dumbass?"

Before Bete had time to even turn his lantern to get a better view of the man, he saw loosely, as an ax was waved into the air, and came down on him. Bete had brought his hands up to defend himself, but unexpectedly, even to him, the sharp weapon never even got near him. Instead, it was aimed directly toward his lantern, and it was shattered, leaving him in darkness, the only illumination being that of the dwindling flames from the molotov.

"So that was your plan? Leave us in the dark? How pointless."

No more was said, as Bete got into a stance, and the man shrouded in black once again raised his ax, and brought it down.

.

---

.

The elder hunter Henryk swung his saw-cleaver at the strangely dressed woman.

Said woman, whose name was Shakti, if he heard them correctly, used her spear to deflect the cleaver from its blunt end, and riposted the point forward to Henryk's neck. With a swift step to the side, Henryk once more swung his cleaver at her, and she jumped back to avoid it.

This woman…. She was different. Henryk had brought down countless already, and none of them posed even the slightest threat or resistance. Even someone who was still in a more impotent stage of beasthood was more dangerous than those of this city. However, this woman was different, she was strong.

Did she somehow have Church blood running through her veins? But how?

Henryk had no time to think, however, as Shakti thrust her spear at his chest. The old hunter side-stepped it, and swung his saw-cleaver once again. Shakti made to deflect it-

With a single flick of his thumb, the saw-cleaver, in its smaller form, blade flung forward, pivoting out, and extending past Shakti's spear. A trick weapon, a standard of the hunter's toolset, made specifically for this purpose. The woman had little time to react, and had only managed to reel her head back just enough for the cleaver to not cut it in two. But, the trick weapon still made contact, the tip of it grazing the edge of her mouth, cutting into her gums, and tearing the side of her lips. The woman hissed in pain, and jumped away, a fatal error.

As Shakti jumped back, she couldn't have seen Henryk pull a pistol from his hips, and fire at her. First, she heard the loud, deafening thunder of the gunpowder. Perhaps the whole block had to have heard it. Then, she felt extraordinary pain.

"Ga! Damn!" The Captain cursed, as her free left hand went up to her right shoulder, where the bullet had impacted. She tried to stop the blood that was pouring out, but the exit wound from behind made that a mute effort. She peered into the darkness despite the numbing pain, but could only make out the visage of the hunter, the moon-light being blocked by clouds.

Her right arm was weak, she could barely hold up her spear, and the terrible pain from her mouth blurred her vision. While this man had managed to land multiple blows on her, she hadn't landed a single hit, he was just too fast.

Henryk approached her swiftly, and once more, Shakti attempted to deflect his swing-

That was, until a body came hurling between them, kicking up dust, and forcing them both away.

"I'll give you that…" Standing from the ground, a beat-up Bete declared, "That was a good punch."

From the darkness, the second man, whom Henryk alone knew as Gascoigne, walked to them. He was tall, at a staggering 7 feet, with a black shawl only serving to help his intimidating form. Yet, even from the darkness, Shakti could see cuts and blood seeping from his, and his face. The two of them had really gone at it.

Gascoigne hurried to the older hunter's side, and Bete did the same with Shakti.

"These two are strong…" The old hunter said, quietly.

"Aye, far stronger than anyone else we've seen."

"We must kill them," Henryk said with a blank tone.

"Aye, I'll take the man, he seems far more into his beast hood than the woman."

The man in yellow grunted.

On the other side of the darkness, the two adventurers had a similar conversation.

"Just where the fuck did these people come from?" The foul Bete asked.

"I haven't the slightest clue, what Familia could they possibly belong to?"

"Well, we probably found the people we've been looking for."

"Indeed, we cannot let them escape. Take them alive if you can, but don't hesitate."

"Don't need to tell me twice, I'll get the big fella, I need to pay him back for these punches."

The two sides finish their conversation simultaneously, and in a moment, Bete charged at Gascoigne, and Henryk had begun a new conflict with Shakti.

Bete swung a claw at the taller man, which he dodged with ease, "Come on you coward, stop dodging." The werewolf brought his fist back, backhanding the hunter, his claws scraping at his face. The larger man nearly tumbled back trying to avoid it, and Bete made to take advantage of the misstep, and punch the man directly in the stomach. However, from out of nowhere, the hunter's ax extended out from the shoulder, and nearly cut straight into Bete's head. The werewolf saw briefly as strips of hair fell from his scalp, indicating just how close he was to death, before stepping back.

"You're a damn tricky one, and faster than you look."

"You talk too much."

The hunter now stood, his large two-handed ax ready to engage the werewolf once more. Gascoigne had tried to make use of his blunderbuss, but the beast took him completely off guard when it easily managed to dodge the bullets. Never had he fought a beast, or any man, who was so fast as to be able to dodge the spray that came from his gun. So instead, he decided to solely make use of his ax. The beast showed it only used it's fists and feet in combat, so with this, he could keep him at a distance.

Bete, too, had the same realization. So, from the ground, he picked up a rock, and threw it straight at the hunter. Gascoigne swiped his ax to block the stone, and in the next, Bete was upon him.

Just a few dozen yards away, Shakti jabbed her spear forward, stabbing straight into the hip of Henryk. The old hunter groaned in pain, and aimed his pistol at the adventurer, forcing her back. Yet, right before she did, she twisted her spear, and violently ripped it out.

Shakti rubbed the side of her cut and bleeding lip, "That was payback."

The old hunter didn't respond, and instead, reached into his cloak. From her place, Shakti could see faintly, a red glimmer. A blood veil. Henryk lifted his arm, and jabbed it into his thigh-

"No you don't!" Yet, before he had the chance, Shakti lobbed her spear straight between where his arm and thigh would've connected. While the hunter had managed to move his hand away in time, the blood vial had been caught, and shattered to the ground.

The spear flew a few feet more, and plummeted to the ground with a thud.

"Hmm." The old hunter groaned.

"As I thought. That isn't any simple mermaid blood, is it? Where did you get that!" Shakti shouted. No response. "Tell me then, were you and your companion responsible for the massacre that happened in the red-light district last night?"

To that, the old man chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

Henryk mumbled. "You've thrown away your weapon, perhaps I overestimated your intelligence."

"What was that?"

"I'm too old for this…" The man sighed, "What does it matter to a stupid beast, the things I do? Besides, they all deserved to die."

"'You are speaking nonsense. You murdered countless people, for nothing then? That makes you no better than a monster!"

"To be called a monster by a mindless drunk fool, I'm sure Viola would get a laugh." With that, the old hunter raised his hand, which was concealed from Shakti by the dark, and fired his pistol at her. She managed to dodge it, but just barely, as the hunter charged at her once more.

Meanwhile-

"Gods-Damnit! You sure like swinging that thing." Bete said, dodging another slash from Gascoigne's large two-handed ax. Left, right, left, right, and repeat, the hunter spun his ax like it was a toy, yet Bete could tell that it would cleave him in two if it connected. He needed to get into close range, where the ax could no longer be effective.

With a quick step forward, Bete closed the distance between himself and the hunter, taking a moment where Gascoigne was still recoiling from a swing, and aimed his claws straight for the hunters throat. Yet, before the werewolf could even get close to landing the fatal blow, the sound of Gascoigne once again shifting his trick weapon instinctually made him duck. Bete saw as the one long ax returned to its smaller form, the head passing right above where he was just a moment ago.

"Stupid, stupid transforming weapon!" Bete shouted, as he prepared to dodge a shot from the blunderbuss in Gascoigne's now free left hand.

.

---

.

A loud boom echoed from behind her, but Shakti paid it no attention, she couldn't afford a moment. Her stance was low, and her fists raised, the pain from her lip still continuing to numb her senses. If she didn't come up with some sort of method to kill the murderer in front of her, then she would be the one to fall. No, that absolutely cannot come to pass. So, as the man in yellow swung his cleaver at her, her eyes wandered. And, in a moment, she found her answer.

Yet, as Henryk swung, he could only boast himself in his mind. What was this stupid beastly woman thinking? Perhaps if she got on her knees, and begged him to spare her, then he might consider it… Bah! Now was not the time for jokes, yet, that only spoke of how confident Henryk was in his victory. So what if she managed to get a decent hit on him? It was benign, more painful than anything else, and the bleeding practically stopped already. Besides, he thought, she merely caught him by surprise, that's all. Now she was unarmed, and though he had to admit that she had even a fair amount of skill in hand-to-hand, he could see his victory easily. Perhaps he simply overestimated her at first, his skills would be more fit taking on that wolf-like beast that his companion was fighting.

Henryk caught the woman in front of him tripping over herself, it seems the pain was finally getting to her, and he took that as an opportunity to fire his pistol at her, straight in the head. Unable to dodge, Shakti brought her injured right hand up, and took the pistol shot straight in the forearm. It became lodged.

"Gaah!"

"Squealing like a pig already?" For a moment, Henryk stopped to speak, if only to reload his pistol. "You are quite something, but still, even your scourge can only take you so far against a trained hunter. I've many years behind me, hunting all kinds of beasts. And you… You're just a woman."

"Speak not another word…" Shakti said through pants, and she circled around the hunter, "I swear upon Ganesha, that you will not live to see another day, scum."

Ah, maybe he was a little talkative today, so what? Let an old man have his fun, hunting was really the only joy he got out of life now. No, he wasn't one to lavish in success, but after being a hunter for so long, it almost became a game to predict what the beasts and mad folk he fought would do. A test of his skill.

What would this raving woman do next, he wondered? She seemed far too fierce to run away, yes, she most certainly had intention to fight him to the death. Would she try to steal one of his weapons? Or maybe, as she became more and more frustrated, she would succumb more to her beasthood? That would be her only hope if she wanted to beat him with her wounded arm.

That would be a shame, wouldn't it? While Henryk didn't mind killing, he was still a man of honor, even now, especially now. To have to see this woman's pretty face get ruined by the scourge… Indeed, it would be preferable if he killed her before then. He even almost felt a tinge of disappointment, when he had to cut her lips as he did, a permanent little scar ruining an otherwise blemishless face. That fact, of her being extremely pretty, brought new questions. How was it that a woman can gain such strength, but not show any physical signs of being in conflict? This little woman couldn't have been older than, maybe twenty, yet she fought like she had years of experience. Her strength and speed, he could chalk up to the scourge, but her skill? That was another story entirely.

Still, though, his victory was secured. so what's wrong with an old man pondering?

Was it because they seemed to be in age, or just Henryk's oldness, that made his mind wander off to his daughter? No, it was that this woman here, she reminded him of Viola. Not in her madness, though his daughter must've been mad in her choice of men, but in her fierceness.

How many years ago was it? Nearly thirty? When he was on a hunt on his own. This was long before he joined with Gascoigne, and he himself was still a younger man. Not a young man by any means, but at least then his back didn't hurt as much. While merely on patrol in central Yharnam, something he almost never did, he came across a crying little girl near the open aqueducts. He was eating something sweet, if only he could recall… Curiosity got the better of him, and he went over to the little girl, the sound of her sobs filling his ear. It wasn't until he was right behind her, that the child noticed him, and as she did, she jumped. The girl would've fallen into the aqueducts then, if Henryk hadn't grabbed her and pulled her to safety. "You should be careful," He said to the girl, "You don't want to fall into the sewers, there might be monsters in there." Henryk laughed a little at his own joke, but for some reason, the girl only continued to sob. "What's the matter? Don't you know what tonight is? And yet you are out here?" He asked, getting onto a knee, "Where are your parents?" "M-my parents?" The girl cried softly, "Daddy… Daddy was drinking again, and-and became so angry at mom, and took his gun and-" Her story was broken off by more sobs. Well, nothing he could do about that now, and he wanted to leave. But as he stood, he heard the sound of a grumble and saw that, even through her tears, the girl was looking at the thing he was eating in his hands. Oh yes, it was a piece of white velvet cake. Why did he even have that? Whatever it was, the girl's eyes moved him so much that he couldn't help but give it to her. That was his fault, though, because when he tried to leave, the girl followed him. Let's just say there was no more hunting for him that night.

Hmm, such a strange thought.

When Henryk left his mind, he saw the woman had made some distance between them. Was he wrong to think she was fierce? Well, it doesn't matter, she would die all the same. From this distance, he wasn't confident in his aim, so the only option was to chase her down. Yet when he got close, he was confused by what he heard.

The woman was whispering.

It seemed incoherent, maybe she truly had gone mad now.

Henryk closed the few feet of distance between him and Shakti in a second, and swung his cleaver at her, and she once again dodged. Yet, as she dodged back, Henryk brought his weapon forward, switching his cleaver to its longer form. Managing to nick the corner of her cheek, he aimed his pistol up to her head, and it seemed by instinct that she ducked. How simple-minded. Henryk, in an instant, aimed the pistol and her leg, and shot. Piercing her thigh, the woman now retreated with a limp, but still, she fled from him.

"Where do you think you're going? There is nowhere to run."

Yet the woman only continued to whisper, and flee.

She had taken three bullets, just how durable was she? He needed a good swing, not an artificial cut, to tear her apart.

Finally, the woman stopped. And Henryk made his final move.

First, when he was within a few steps from the woman, he raised his left hand, and fired another shot at her. When she dodged, he reached into a pocket, and threw a handful of knives in her direction. They were slow, yet they were also silent, and so despite the fact she had deflected away most of them, her slow time to react allowed for one to lodge itself deep into her shoulder, where a bullet wound was already bleeding from before.

The woman flinched in pain, and Henryk knew it was over. That is the way of hunting beasts, delivering as much pain as possible. For though they may have lost their minds, their senses still remain, and over his years, he had found the most consistent way of bringing a beast down was with such pain. Most do not know this, not even Gascoigne, but the knives he carries around are laced with a poison that would cause immense pain upon breaching skin. Most of the time that wouldn't matter, but with a beast strong enough to survive a knife to the throat, sometimes he managed to play with his favorite toy…

Well, so what if he lavished in the hunt, just a little… He found joy in always knowing all there is to know about beasts.

And so, as the woman cringed and boiled over in pain, her white teeth barring out, Henryk reached melee distance too. In a second, switching his cleaver back to its shorter form, he reeled his arm back, way above his head, and swung it straight into the woman's skull.

This plan was simple, yet effective, a thousand times had he executed it, and a thousand times it had worked. Deliver severe pain, and then the final blow. But to the woman, Shakti, her name was, it would do no good. As in the very last second, she flung her head back. Had he tried this trick too many times before on her? Or was it instinct, or was she just that fast? Well, she couldn't have been too fast. Henryk watched as his blade still managed to connect, but instead of it being the center of her head, it tore through her left eyes, cutting across the nose and forehead, and grazed her scalp.

Shakti yelled in pain. How satisfying, now then, a swift strike back would-

In an instant, Henryk felt heat.

Shakti could almost smirk, as she finished the last line of her spell. It took all her concentration to concurrently chant, ignoring the pain, while having to dodge the hunter's attacks. But now, it was all coming to a head. It was perfect, though she hadn't intended for it, the position they were in now. The man had swung his weapon in such a specific way, that his arm was left blocking the corner of his vision, right to wear Shakti had brought her own hand out, pressed it right up against the man's neck, and finished the chant.

With thunder in her voice, Shakti shouted, "Vajra!"

Of course, the only indication of the spell, before Henryk had even heard her, was the searing heat. Yet, somehow, the hunter managed to dodge it, if only slightly. The blast of the spell, which was intended to go underneath his raised hand and straight to his neck, blasted into his face, as the hunter tried to step back to avoid it. While this left him still alive, the old hunter's balance was thrown completely off, and he was forced to take two- no, three steps backward to prevent himself from falling.

It was at this moment, that Shakti looked over the floor, and raised her foot. For, right there next to her on the ground, that which the foolish hunter did not see, was her spear. The spear which she had thrown to prevent him from healing himself with that so-called 'mermaid blood', with its tip pointed directly at him.

Raising the heel of her right foot, she kicked the butt of the spear up and forward, straight toward the staggering hunter.

Henryk could not see the spear, but indeed, he could feel it as it pierced straight through his chest, lodging itself into him.

Blood, which was beginning to pour into his stomach, came rushing through his throat, and out his mouth. Oh yes, the old hunter remembered, he should get white Velvet Cake for his granddaughters, they would love it just as much as their mother…

Shakti strode forward, leaped feet first into the air, and once again kicked the butt of the spear which was lodged into the hunter. Her weapon came flying out, and both it, and the hunter, were sent to the ground.

The sound of the hunter's pain alerted the other two fighters.

Bete looked over his shoulder, and through the darkness, could barely make out Shakti, in her vibrant clothing, standing over the hunter. "You got him? You're better than I thought!" Yet, while Bete was distracted giving his half-hearted congratulations, the man in black rushed past him, and straight to his fallen comrade.

Seeing this, the Captain jumped back. If the other murderer attacked her now, damn, she wouldn't last a minute.

But, he stopped when he reached his fallen friend. The man in black got on a knee, hoisted the man in yellow over his shoulder, and sprinted off into the darkness.

Shakti watched them helplessly, unable to give chase.

"Those guys just ran the hell off." Bete said, rushing over to Shakti, "But from all this blood on the ground, I'd say he won't last long. Woah-", Before the werewolf could continue, Shakti began to fall to the ground, exhausted.

"Damn, guess you really gave your all, I almost feel bad for only going half-ass against that other guy." Bete said, as he caught Shakti mid-air, "Ya'... Gonna have to get you to a hospital for that eye, looks like I can't go after them... Oh' well." The woman in his hands gave no response, and she lay unconscious, with nothing but the sound of her breathing filling the air.

"Alright. At least I can give the Captain some good news." Bete lifted Shakti off the ground, and walked into the darkness. He would get her to the Dian Cecht Familia, then, he could finally go home and get some sleep.

.

---

.

The quiet of the night deafened, but to Isa, he would have no sleep.

The home he sheltered in for the time was a poor little condo, in a poor little area, for a poor little sum of rent. It was perfect for him. Cheap, and really nothing special. The room itself was a part of a set of flats aligned side-to-side, and was quite small. However, there was some privacy, for despite being as cheap as it was, there were very few people who lived in this place. For good reason too. This neighborhood was a dangerous one. Gangs and criminals didn't make this place their homes, but they did do business here.

Well, it was fine, Isa didn't plan to stay long.

Looking around at the dilapidated flat, Isa thought of anything he would take with him when he left. Really, there was nothing in this place. The bed he sat on, that wasn't his, a closet empty of clothing, and really not much else filled this empty room. It was very poor.

That didn't matter, Isa thought. Looking down, he peered at the two things in his hands. In his left hand, was that strange, umbilical-like black monster drop with spots that he got from the dungeon a couple of days ago. He thought to sell it, but after seeing just how long the wait was for the guild, he decided to come back another day. So now, he just held onto it, trying to figure out what it was. In his right hand, conversely, was a letter. White, clean, and unopened. He already knew who it was from.

It was annoying, that he would have to move again, but that didn't matter.

Suddenly, he was broken from his thoughts by a knocking on the door opposite him.

"Hey!" From the outside, a familiar voice shouted, "Anyone in there?"

Isa paused. For some reason, Hanzeer had come to his home late at night, it confused him. Either way, he stood from the bed and walked to the door, and opened it.

He was greeted by the sight of Hanzeer, right leg raised, ready to kick open the door.

"Shit," Hanzeer said, lowering his foot, "You're still alive… I mean- You're still alive! You should thank the gods, how lucky." The taller man walked through the door, and into the flat.

"What do you need?" Isa asked bluntly.

"Aye, look, I just came to check up on ya' last time I saw you, well, nevermind about that." He replied, "More importantly, what about the Valis?"

"What Valis?"

"The monster gems, the ones I bribed that crazy old guy with? I saved your life with that, you know. Did you manage to get it back?"

"No."

"No? Fuck! That was so much… And the damn guild won't let me get in all my gems I have now anyway. I wanted to go early to try and…" He trailed off.

Hanzeer turned away from Isa, "Hey, what's that in your hands?"

Isa looked down to his left hand, which held the monster drop. He had set down the letter on the bed, but the item he kept on his person. For some reason, he felt drawn to it, and so he couldn't let go of it after the first time he tried to sell it.

"You fucking liar!" Hanzeer shouted, "After all I've done for you, you think you can get one over on me? Even after I saved your life?"

Isa tried to say something, but was stopped by Hanzeer, punching him in the nose. You have to understand, Isa was only a level one, and Hanzeer a level two. There was no way for him to win such a fight.

Not that he even cared too.

Isa slammed into the wall behind him, denting it, and slid to the floor.

"Now, where are the damn gems?" Hanzeer looked around the room. First he went to the bed, and threw open the covers and pillows, finding nothing. He then walked to the empty closet, where once more there was nothing.

The pig faced man scratched his head in frustration, "Gods-damnit, you wanna know something? I just wanted to come here to rob your house, you should've died in that dungeon. It only makes sense that someone as useless and pointless as you dies for my sake. Yet, for some reason, you live." Finally, Hanzeer looked under the bed, and there was a large sack. "Here it fucking is." Grabbing onto the sack and pulling it out, he heard the familiar jingle of monster gems. "How the hell did you manage to survive anyway? Wait, don't tell me…" Hanzeer's face somehow grew angrier, "You were in cahoots with that old guy? That's it! You would have him kill me, and steal from me? You fucking murderer! Your psycho!" He walked over to Isa.

Finally, Isa spoke, "I didn't-" but before he could finish, Hanzeer grabbed him by the throat, and pulled him up. Two hands gripped around his neck.

"Maybe I should just kill you myself, no harm to me."

For a minute, Hanzeer tightened his grip over Isa's neck, and his face paled. Eventually, they both fell to the ground, Hanzeer over Isa, still strangling him.

So, this is how he was going to die? Isa couldn't feel a thing, not even the hands over his neck, which blocked the blood flow to his brain. It was rather pathetic, but expected. He knew the type of man Hanzeer was. Chickens coming home to roost, that was the saying.

Yet, even now, in his final moments, his eyes wandered to the floor. Messy and dirty, maybe that's why he was able to identify the blurry image of that white letter. It was from his younger sister, who knows how she found out where he lived, but it doesn't matter. Still, he never wrote back to her, never even bothered. The last time he saw her was years ago, before he even became an adventurer, he wondered what she thought of him.

It didn't matter to him. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. The world was made up of cruelty, of animals feasting on and upon each other, no better, no different, than monsters.

But, still…

Isa could almost feel as though he was already dead, his mind already fading away, soon to fall into unconsciousness, and then death.

It was because of this lack of feeling, that he wasn't aware of that strange, umbilical-like monster drop, which his hand seemed to clutch to on reflex, even now.

But still, he wished, hell, he could even pray, that it would change. That, even despite everything, it would get better…

It was at that moment, that the umbilical cord clutched it his hand, began to react.

And it was in that moment, that Isa struggled no more, and died.

Hanzeer, seeing his body limp, stood up, his face red, and saliva trickling from his mouth.

"Well," he said, "That takes care of that." The pig-faced man turned away from the body, and began looking into the bag of monster gems.

"Let's see here… 1000, 2000, 3000…" Hanzeer counted on.

So distracted he was, that he didn't even notice the body of the once deceased man behind him, rising back to its feet.

Wobbling at first, it was forced to lean against the wall for support, before turning its eyes toward the man.

"Over two hundred thousand here, I'm gonna be eating well."

"So now you bother to count?"

Hanzeer heard the voice of the man he would swear he had killed, right behind him, and tried to turn. "Wha-"

But was stopped, by arms wrapping around his own, fat neck, and tightening.

What happened next in the small flat was chaos.

Hanzeer flailed about wildly, unable to speak or breathe, trying to free his neck. He ran into the walls and into the bed, and eventually started resorting to punching or elbowing what was choking him.

Yet, though it grunted at the blows, it felt no pain, and only continued to strangle Hanzeer.

The pig-faced man's mind was racing. How? He had just killed Isa, How the hell was he back up? At the very least, he strangled him unconscious. Then, the greater question. He was a gods-damn level two, and Isa was just a pathetic level one! How was he unable too- unable…

Hanzeer's mind began to flatten, as blood was cut off from his brain.

"Ironic, isn't it?" The thing latched to his neck spoke, "That you die by strangling, by the body of he who you strangled?"

The pig-faced man gave no reaction, no, not even his body moved. His whole person came to a stand still, and after a few seconds of pure stagnation, collapsed onto the ground.

Finally, it let go of the man's neck.

Looking around the flat, it knew the man wasn't dead. It would take at least a few more minutes of a lack of oxygen and blood to the head to kill. No, it was looking for something simpler to kill him with. Its eyes then fell upon the bag of monster gems, they would do.

It walked over the monster gems, stepping over the broken piles of wood from the walls it was rammed into, and picked up the bag of monster gems. Walking back over to the unconscious body of Hanzeer, it lifted the bag over his head, and in one motion, slammed to down onto the skull of the pig-faced man.

His face was caved in immediately, and blood began to trickle from all the holes in his head. Still, it lifted the bag once more, and slammed it down again, and again, and again, until the bag ripped, and what seemed like hundreds of monster gems were flown across the floor of the room, mixing to the chunks of wood.

Looking down, Hanzeer's face was unrecognizable, there was even a monster gem, stuck into his brutalized head. Pig-faced no more.

With that, it dropped the ripped sack, and began looking all over the floor. Pushing around the wood and gems, it eventually came across what it was looking for.

An Umbilical Cord of a Great One's infant.

Cord in hand, it made for the door.

Loss, among the debrief of the flat, was a white, cool, letter.

.

.

---

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Author's Note.

Hello.

Man oh man, we are in it now, aren't we?

I know you may have confusion over just what was happening in the last scene, with Isa, but just hold on a second, I've got some things to say first.

Firstly, thank you for reading all the way through this, 34000 words of a chapter is truly something not even I expected for this. Yet, as the scenes went on, words began to pile up, so I am thankful for you having taken the time to read them.

Or you just skipped them, either way, the point still stands.

Secondly, I saw a couple of people, (Read, two people), talking about the, well, 'tone' of the story. Specifically, that it was probably too bleak. Well, I can promise you this: The story will have a 'happy' ending, it's not going to end all in hell, I swear.

But, my reader, I must also tell you this. If you think this is the 'bleak' part of the story, well, you haven't seen anything I have planned yet. You aren't even there yet. The story really begins to pick up after the halfway point, in that regard.

That being said, like I've said, the whole story is going to be building up to the climax which is the tenth and final day. So, y'know, just hang in there.

Thirdly, onto OCs. There was a fair bit of OCs Introduced in this chapter, some with more major roles to play than others. I will say now, the only OCs that have an actual major role to play are Theresa, the Amazoness who is currently the helping hand of Amelia, and of course, Isa.

Now, I promise everything will be explained, what is being done with him. For now, though, you just have to bear the confusion. I promise I'm not just spitting out random words or concepts.

Finally, of course, leave a review with what you think. Is this format of a story confusing? What about the characterization, anything you want to say, I will surely read it 10x over.

As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for the 100 followers.

Yours Truly.

A.A