Before we even begin, I guess I'll get the most important detail out of the way: my knowledge of Danmachi's canon comes mostly from the anime, every season save for Sword Oratoria which I just couldn't get through - really not to my liking. I do know a fair bit of the basic synopsis for the main light novel series so I know an absurd amount is omitted from the show.

TL,DR: this is being written by someone who has knowledge of maybe a third of the overall setting, story, and characters as told by canon.

Which probably won't mean much seeing as I plan to bash canon's head in with a metal bat over the course of this story. Let's get things underway. Notes at the bottom.


A calm night settled over Orario. The crescent moon shined bright over the dungeon city, easily piercing the few, wandering clouds. The bulk of Orario's adventurers walked the lamp lit streets, retiring from a long day of exploration and monster slaying. A certain popular dining establishment was seeing its usual rush of evening customers.

But one young dungeon crawler rested alone. He was not engaged in revelries nor was he basking in the satisfaction of a hard day's work. This young man was actually very deep in thought, alternating between gazing at the night sky and burying his face into his palms.

Bell Cranel was in a spot. He couldn't think of any other way to describe his circumstance, running his hands roughly through his white hair in an effort to spark some kind of thought. Still his mind couldn't come to any solid conclusion, positive or negative.

He'd come home a bit earlier than usual, the sun only just starting to set. In the month since he'd joined Hestia's familia, this had only been the third time he'd come home without a welcome from his goddess. Seeing as he'd called his excursion early today, Bell decided to put that unused energy into tidying up for his goddess.

The boy had barely been downstairs thirty minutes when Hestia returned. He'd almost dropped the sheet he was folding from the sheer volume of his goddess slamming the door open.

Bell had a moment to appraise Hestia when she entered. "Miserable" was a generous description; she looked like she hadn't rested in days, the skin beneath her eyes nearly black with fatigue and long, dark hair a mess of splayed strands. The boy almost balked at the lack of her signature twin tails, the hair ornaments that kept them in place nowhere to be seen.

"G-Goddess?"

Hestia lazily sailed her gaze across the room, seeking the source of the disturbance. When her sights fell on Bell, her blue eyes widened a fraction. There was a soft shift in the atmosphere as his goddess graced him with a warm smile, fixing her subordinate with a half-lidded gaze. Bell's face brightened in return, mistaking the direction of Hestia's thoughts.

The small goddess reached behind her, catching the edge of the door and hurling the portal shut in another display of unnecessary force.

"Be~ell..."

The slurred tone was his first hint at his goddess' state. Such observations were put on hold as Hestia started towards the boy, a notable stumble in her steps. What caught Bell's attention now were Hestia's hair ornaments… specifically where she'd elected to stash them.

He most certainly was not blind to the appeal of the female figure. And the fact that his goddess, though small in stature, possessed a rather impressive bust was well within his notice. It was not a detail Bell paid particular interest towards on the day to day. She was a goddess after all and the matron of his familia. Supreme, untouchable, thoroughly out of his league.

But with her quite literally bouncing towards him, her little bell-shaped knick-knacks tucked snugly in her cleavage, he was hard pressed to focus on anything else. Hestia instantly picked up on Bell's blatant ogling, adding some extra 'oomph' to her steps. She nearly kissed the floor when one foot hooked around the other.

If there was one skill Bell Cranel had honed in his short tenure as an adventurer, it was a speedy reaction time. Hestia sat flush against his frame, her young ward having slid across the room to catch her. The sudden jolt unlodged Hestia's hair decs from their housing, scattering them across the floor.

That was when he picked up the smell, that conclusive bit of evidence towards the state of his goddess. Hestia was drunk. If he could be so vulgar, Bell might describe her as "piss drunk."

This hadn't been the first time his matron had returned from a night of spirits. It seemed to be the pastime of choice among the divinities and though Hestia could count few of her fellow deities as friends, she would readily jump at the chance to be social. Bell had gotten rather adept in turn at taking care of his inebriated goddess.

Hestia hiccuped from the jarring impact, falling into a round of childish giggles. Bell released a tired sigh before standing, scooping his goddess into a bridal carry. This detail brought a decisive end to Hestia's laughter, her mood regressing to that of an amorous drunk.

"Ooooh, my tasty little hero." Bell's goddess had an arm around his shoulders, propping herself against him. Her free hand ran across his front in a swirling pattern, having snaked its way up the bottom of his shirt to reach his bare chest. Hestia hummed in appreciation as her fingers outlined her boy's developing physique.

Bell felt a breath against his ear, his goddess leaning up to whisper into it. "Does my shining knight want his reward?"

This, understandably, sent Bell's young mind reeling. The effect was dialed up to twenty when Hestia's tongue twirled around the outside of his ear, all but slurping the appendage into her mouth. Now Bell was physically reeling, stumbling about the domicile, eyes wide and a high pitched whine peeling from his parted lips.

Hestia took little notice of the pandemonium, eyes shut and head neatly nestled beneath her boy's chin. Girl couldn't be more ecstatic at the situation, Bell's subconscious need to protect her causing him to clutch her body close to his as he flailed about. The fact that he'd misjudged his grip and now had a nice handful of her hindquarters was a pleasant bonus.

The pair's revolving tour came to a harsh end as Bell slammed into the edge of Hestia's bed. They struck the mattress hard, bouncing briefly into the air. Hestia came down in a fit of giggles, her body trapping Bell beneath her. The boy himself was now a stuttering mess, arms shooting every which way in an effort to stay as distant from his goddess as possible.

Hestia put a swift end to her ward's struggles as she rolled fully on top of him, wrapping her boy in a hug that pinned his trembling arms to his sides. Her fit of giggling persisted. Bell could do little more in this situation than stare shakily at his goddess whilst making jittery mouth movements.

"G-G-G-Goddess Hestia," the nervous wreck managed to stutter out in a single breath.

Her girlish laughter ceased, Hestia's gaze snapping to meet Bell's. The boy flinched at the sudden attention, his goddess looking at him as though just having learned of his presence. A warm expression overtook her features, her drunken blush deepening in hue.

"Mmm, my naughty little Bell. Whisking me off to bed as soon as I step in, what am I gonna do with you?"

The young adventurer balked, his attempts to correct implications coming out as little more than a series of pup-like yawps. Distracted, Bell made no effort to stop his goddess as Hestia placed one hand upon his shoulder, dragging herself the short distance to Bell's face.

If the boy's thoughts had been going critical before, they were now experiencing a complete shutdown. Bell held some romantic, often fantastical views of the world around him and his desired place within it. In contrast, Bell's thoughts on himself were, at the deepest level, rather humble. Whilst he aspired to be a great hero, the boy held no delusions regarding his current self.

He would certainly never deem himself worthy of the affections of a goddess. Hestia's tongue probing his mouth gave a confident counter argument.

The kiss could be summed up in short, simple words: sloppy, rough, aggressive. Hestia had Bell's skull in a vice grip, palms pressing in from both sides as her lips vigorously claimed the young adventurer's. Her supple form writhed against Bell's more solid frame, every inch of the small goddess desperate to make contact.

Though rather overwhelmed by all this, Bell could not call the current experience unpleasant. Even now his goddess readily swallowed the boy's pleasured moans.

Some rational, more innocent aspect of Bell's personality offered resistance, did its best to sway the boy back to reason. For all his talk of going into the dungeon to play hero to a cute girl or two, Bell was very lacking in both experience and tolerance. In the end, he was still a young man, subject to hormonal urges.

Hestia squeaked as a pair of grasping hands closed around her waist. She pushed him further into the mattress, holding him in place with a single palm. Her free hand caught the hem of Bell's shirt, lifting the thin garment fully over his head.

When the collar veiled his eyes, his arms held up by the sleeves, Hestia fell upon her lover once again. Bell loosed a nervous whine as his goddess closed her mouth over the side of his neck, kneading the flesh between her teeth. More excited sounds followed as Hestia worked her way down her boy's chest, tongue flicking a nipple as she kissed her way down his abdominals.

It was here Bell realized the grip restraining his arms had vanished. He'd just managed to shrug his top over his brow when an electric shock seized his entire body. Bell's gaze snapped down, meeting the glimmering eyes of his goddess.

The free hand that had been pulling off his shirt had found a more important task. Bell could only stare, gaze locked with that of his goddess, both the image and sensation of her palm dug within his waistband like a wailing siren on his periphery.

In short order, Hestia's probing gaze shifted and for the first time Bell could place a name to her burning expression. It was a face he had unknowingly invited, a mirror of his own, instinctual hunger. It was the first time he would experience lust, and he laid powerless before it.

This was the point of no return…

Bell shook the memories away, disgusted by his lack of control. He didn't want to admit how much he enjoyed it, his eagerness to relive those heated moments. Over and over again.

Water slapped against his face, cold and harsh. The boy paused, liquid dribbling down his chin as his hollow eyes gazed across the reservoir. Bell reached down, scooping a second splash against his face. He'd come out here to think and all his mind could summon were lewd recollections.

The boy quietly made his way back into the basement of the old church. His chest tightened as he laid eyes on Hestia's slumbering figure, the disheveled sheets doing nothing to cover her nudity. It was a final reminder of this new reality, that less than an hour ago he'd had his first sexual experience.

Bell stepped around to the side of the bed, pressing into the mattress as he leaned over his goddess. Her soft features became more innocent in sleep, her breaths slow and quiet. It was a far cry from the "energy" she had earlier in the evening.

A smile crossed Bell's lips. The young man really couldn't help it, a pleasant warmth building in his chest and spreading throughout his body. He wondered if maybe this was what love felt like, this lighter than air sensation.

The boy perked up at this notion. This was his goddess he was talking about, a literal divine. And yet Bell could so easily see her as an equal now, claim her as his lover. These thoughts, just hours prior, would have been inconceivable to the rookie adventurer. One drunken romp had turned the world on its head.

Hestia stirred, rolling towards Bell. His name passed through her lips, soft and longing. A hand reached forward, catching the boy's wrist.

"… mmm, love you."

His heart clenched. Weeks worth of interactions came back into sharp focus, each memory taking on a layer of new meanings. If he were beside one, Bell would slam his head against a wall. How could he have been so blind to her feelings? Did it really take one drunken tryst for him to realize?

Nausea settled in, a haunted glaze building in his stare. His goddess wore her feelings on her sleeves, her affections genuine and strong. And yet… Bell had no answer to them.

Lifting the sheet, Bell rolled into bed next to his goddess. The slumbering beauty hummed in pleasure as Bell took her hand with both of his, gently kneading his thumb over her knuckles.

"Goddess," breathed the boy, his voice barely a whisper. He could not bring himself to say more, his eyes tracing the soft contours of Hestia's face. He paid little attention to the shrinking distance between them, his hand grasping her shoulder as Bell drew his slumbering goddess to him.

A happy grin stretched Hestia's features. Bell was in no position to appreciate the sight, but the tightening of his goddess' lips against his own gave him some notice. The young adventurer held this chaste kiss a moment longer.

The light flickered and dimmed, the candles naturally burning out. Hestia pressed herself against Bell's chest, releasing a contented sigh. Her sole child held her close, the noise which had plagued his mind throughout the evening fading to a pleasant fog.

In the morning, perhaps, the confusion would return. The apprehension, the guilt, the question of change. But for the moment, as his consciousness began to drift, Bell could hone in on the most important thing: offering his goddess all the love he could give.


Hestia groaned, blinking away her blurred vision as she tossed and turned across the mattress. She vaguely realized she was naked as the tangled blankets shifted against her bare skin. Hestia's hazy thoughts found little issue in this detail.

The sounds of someone shuffling about the room perked her interest. The tiny goddess shifted her sight towards the nearby dresser, watching her lone familia member shrug his jacket on. Hestia allowed a warm expression to cross her features as she looked on, Bell facing away as he bent down to strap in his boots.

A startled squeak rushed from the goddess' lungs, she barely managed to bite it back in time. Hestia could tell, quite clearly, that her mess of sheets left her entire lower body exposed. Her very naked lower body. Just how long had Bell been awake?

Hestia scrambled to get the blankets over herself, no doubt making a terrible racket all the while. Her next, poorly thought out, course of action was to collapse back into a state of false sleep. Who knows, perhaps by some miracle Bell wouldn't notice.

The boy continued checking over his gear.

At the lack of questioning from her sole familia, Hestia breathed an internal sigh of relief. As Bell did his morning shuffle, his goddess did some mental calculations. The topic of the hour: why was she naked?

Memories flowed slowly, Hestia's lips stretching into a grin. It wasn't the first time she'd had such a dream – it certainly wouldn't be the last – but last night's venture had been leagues above the usual. She could still feel the phantom satisfaction burning at her core, still smell his scent all about her. Even if it was all a fantasy, it was a wonderful start to the day.

'If only this could be real.' Hestia resolved from then on to do all she could to communicate her feelings.

"Goddess..."

She didn't know when Bell had finished dressing, when he'd stepped up to the bed. But it was his voice that left her frozen, stealing the breath from her lungs. Bell sounded… burdened, somehow. It was such a foreign tone from the boy, so different from how he was just last…

Hestia's mind drew a blank. She could remember meeting with Miach yesterday, having a casual round of drinks, turning that into a bit of a marathon, and then… what? The smile faded from her face.

"Hestia."

She was captured. Never, not even once, had her child called her simply by name. Bell always referred to his goddess with obvious reverence; even as close as they were, the boy would always keep a comfortable distance. And now… now he was talking to her as though they were equals.

The stunned goddess hadn't missed the sudden strength in his voice, the air of absolution. Her heart was beating faster.

"I-I'm not sure… what'll happen between us from here onwards. But I promise you, I will become someone worthy, a man that can stand by your side."

Hestia was in shock. Even if she wanted to talk, she would never be able to find the words. Bell had always been a loyal, passionate boy, but the way he was speaking now was deeper. And then his lips pressed against hers, sealing them with a warm kiss.

'Wait… what!?'

Blue eyes snapped open, Hestia's confusion turning to outright alarm. This… this was unprecedented! While she found this to be a more than welcome outcome, to have the scenario thrust upon her so suddenly… to have her Bell take her like a lover.

Those thoughts unleashed the floodgates. The memories of last night which had eluded her came crashing into focus. Her drunken arrival home, her awkward flirtations, and then… everything after.

She wanted to vomit. How could she screw up this badly? The Goddess of the Hearth was well aware of the stigma concerning relations between the divines and their mortal children. Such things were far from taboo – and even if they had been, it would not change her feelings for Bell – much the opposite. The gods had descended for the sake of experiencing earthly pleasures, after all – to be chosen as a partner by one of the deus deia was considered a great honor.

Indeed, even if the exchange was… "not quite consensual," most would hail the mortal party as "blessed," that they should be grateful for the opportunity.

Again, Hestia was reminded of why she kept her distance from so many of her fellow divines. A virgin goddess and a compassionate person by nature, her views of romance had always been more wholesome. "Boring" and "complicated" some of her fellow gods would say.

And so Hestia could only just hold back her disgust, unwilling to sully Bell any further. Her precious familia whose lips burned a searing warmth against her own, a flare of affection igniting her very being.

She had gotten him to love her. She had preyed upon his inexperience. She had wanted to receive his heart and soul. She had taken his body and ensnared his affections.

Hestia was a monster.

Bell pulled back, eyes peeling open. His gaze met his goddess' and warmth filled his features. He could not place the true depths of the emotions playing out in Hestia's eyes, but he knew he wished to soothe them. Bell hoped his joy would comfort his goddess.

Hestia latched onto the boy's expression, held tight to the budding love building in his soul. It was all she could do to keep it together.

The young adventurer pulled back, stepping away from the bed. "I have to go now, Hestia."

Again, her name was on his lips. Again, it stilled her beating heart.

"I'll be back soon, a little better than I am now. Count on it." He hadn't once broken eye contact as he backed towards the exit, navigating the room with casual ease. The smile that split Bell's face was of such youthful mirth, the look of a young man finding his first love.

As the door leading upstairs was slid shut, Hestia sat up. The covers pooled around her waist, her naked torso and ample bust bare to the world. Her hair was loose, draping down like a dark veil. Hestia listened as Bell's footsteps departed the old church, sitting in place for several minutes after the last sounds had faded.

Raising her palms to her face, Hestia released the first in a long series of harsh sobs, tears overflowing her hands.


Bell perched himself upon a flat rock, dropping a trio of magic stones into a small pouch. He'd descended three levels into the dungeon already and had gathered quite the horde. The monsters were very active today.

The sound of crumbling earth issued a ways down the corridor. Bell paid it little mind, a pair of eager adventurers having sped past at the same moment. He had earned a brief respite.

'Find love in the dungeon.'

His grandfather's words echoed in his mind. Thinking about how much of his motivation for coming down here had been due to that sentiment, it might have been shameful if it wasn't so hilarious.

But a more innocent notion had also fueled his journey, one he now embraced entirely. Most in Bell's experience dismissed the idea of "heroes," seeing it as an ideal of the old world, the sort of stuff only children took seriously. He'd been regarded as such more than once before, several familia tossing him out for holding true to such beliefs.

Bell did his best to ignore the rejections of the past, the ones that would likely persist until he was able to prove himself. A fierce grin lit the boy's features; so what if the world didn't believe in him? He had found a familia in the end, he had been chosen by his goddess. Bell would shatter expectations and become a hero, greater even than those passed down in legend!

A hero worthy to stand among the gods…

Cries of panic came from the far corridor, the resting adventurer shooting to his feet in an instant. The eager duo from before, a taller guy in tanned leather and a lithe boy in looser clothing, came sprinting into the chamber. Well, the broader man was sprinting, the child-like figure sat slung over his comrade's left shoulder.

A dark shape burst from the tunnel behind them, barreling towards the pair. In his free hand, the leather-clad warrior held a worn handaxe. He swung with wild abandon as the shape closed in, catching it right along the middle as he lodged the axehead deep into its form.

The warrior lost his footing, both he and his partner toppling to the cave floor. Blood visibly coated the smaller boy's face.

More figures rushed out of the far passage, streaking towards the downed adventurers with savage hunger.

Bell caught the first attacker just before it reached the duo, slashing at its arm with his short knife. Claws clashed against steel before Bell's blade caught the creature's blackened flesh. Pitch mist billowed from the long gash, a shrill cry splitting the air as the monster's singular red eye widened in shock.

The novice adventurer spun around the back of his target, dodging a strike from another of its kin. His knife in reverse-grip, the palm of his free hand pressing into the base of the handle, Bell drove his weapon up and into the wounded monster's chest.

The war shadow fell limp against its slayer, its core crystal pierced through by the human's blade. As the body began to flake into ash, Bell shouldered the corpse away, hurling its weight onto one of its brethren. The boy spun on a dime, swiping wide to bat aside a strike from the rear. He shot forward, smashing his knuckles into the fiend's glowing crimson eye.

Yet another monster swept passed its flailing kin, bloodlust burning in its gaze. Bell traded three parries with the war shadow before twisting away, dodging the lunge of a flanking assailant. The knife-wielder sank low mid-spin, lashing out with a sweeping slash to the shins of a stumbling monster. Bell took note that the shadow he'd just toppled was the one with the axe still buried in its gut.

Bell slid to a halt, weapon raised as he scanned the half circle of enemies in front of him. Five war shadows stood before the young adventurer, shifting around and chittering amongst one another. A sixth, the one with the axe in its chest, lay prone off to the right, alive in the loosest definition.

Just behind Bell sat the injured young man, a pained groan marking his return to consciousness. Bell hissed through gritted teeth, gaze swinging wild as the monster pack spread their ranks, scampering to and fro to test the boy's defenses. A budding warmth was building across his back, forming across his shoulder blades.

They had little warning as the axe was torn free of their fading comrade, finally ending its existence.

The fiend standing furthest to Bell's right turned at the death toll of its wounded kin. It received the flat of the axe for its efforts, the side of its skull caved in by the leather-clad warrior's considerable strength. The remaining war shadows split their attention between the "newfound" threat and Bell.

One unfortunate creature had paused mid-way through a testing lunge, stopping far too close to the knife wielder. The warmth from earlier beginning to flare up, Bell rushed in, side stepping a backward swipe. He noted the cracked eye of the monster he'd slugged earlier as his blade slashed through its throat, thick smoke erupting from the wound.

With his free hand Bell snatched an attacker by the wrist, turning aside its raking claws. Passing his quarry along, Bell shot into the enemy ranks. Overwhelmed by the boy's explosive speed, one of the war shadows could only gape as its attacker bounded up its slim frame, vaulting off the beast's shoulder and into the air. A geyser of smog-blood sprayed out of the long gash now running up its front.

Bell spun through the air, knife swinging down to clash against a third war shadow's claws. The adventurer touched down in a tight roll, ducking another strike from the same monster. Bell pivoted, catching a third attack with a powerful slash, cleaving the creature's hand off at the wrist.

At once Bell barreled into the one-handed shadow, driving both of them to the floor as enemy number three slammed both fists into the spot he once occupied.

The prone shadow jolted into an upright position. It got maybe a third of the way through rising before Bell's knife slammed home in its upper chest. The boy rolled off his downed foe, abandoning the weapon in his haste. Again monster number three lunged for him, slashing open the corpse of its decaying comrade. Bell's knife was torn free in the process.

Unarmed, Bell followed the optimal course of action, the sole of his boot crashing into the side of the monster's head. As the beast was sent reeling, the young adventurer's luck finally hit a snag. A large palm snatched the boy's shoulder, its talons raking over his coat, tearing through to the skin beneath. Bell's feet left the ground as he was hurled across the chamber.

Rolling end over end, Bell groaned as he came to a stop on his side. Something cold and sharp pricked at his ear. On instinct the boy reached up, grasping the handle of his discarded dagger and drawing it away from his head.

Thrusting forth with the knife, Bell buried the length of the blade into a blackened palm reaching down for him. With his free hand, he grabbed the shadow's other limb at the wrist, its claws coming dangerously close to his right eye. Bell's arms trembled as the war shadow pushed all of its remaining might against the adventurer.

Black ash oozed from the long slash Bell had carved across its chest earlier. The monster drew open its maw in a savage shriek, its fog blood coating the pinned human in a fine layer of dark soot. Bell strained against the might of his foe, the burning sensation along his upper back flickering. The knife wielder cast a frantic glance to find where the last war shadow had gone.

Blood ran cold as Bell spotted the final fiend. The guy in leather armor was quite preoccupied in his efforts to bash his original target into ultimate submission. He took no notice of the remaining monster and its rapid approach. Bell could see it readying to lunge.

The pinned boy answered his opponent's war cry with a shout of his own, desperation and rage coursing through his very being. An eruption of strength filled his quaking limbs, the heat now surging throughout his entire upper body. Bell's monstrous foe sat stunned by the sudden amount of space opened up between them. The young adventurer quickly drew his legs in, planting his heels against the shadow's abdomen.

Bell rolled backwards, launching the fiend into the far wall. Pitching forward, the boy hopped to his feet, his left arm lashing through the air like a whip.

As soon as the final war shadow threw itself towards its unsuspecting prey, its body seized as Bell's blade pierced the creature's skull. The axe wielding warrior turned sharply as the monster's corpse thumped against the ground. His wild gaze settled on the felled beast, anger and shock warring in his eyes. When his sight turned to his savior, focus snapped back onto his features.

"Behind you!"

Bell was already moving before the call out, turning in place towards the threat. The shadow he'd launched into the wall had recovered quickly, already closing within arms reach of the rookie adventurer. It was too close to avoid – Bell raised his arms in a defensive gesture.

It was only then the knife wielder realized he'd thrown away his weapon.

"… take flight."

He'd spoken softly, barely a whisper from the moment he'd regained consciousness. He could not say whether or not there'd be a use for this spell of his, but he'd prepped it all the same. And then came the opportunity…

"Quartz Spike!"

Bell's assailant flew back, a violet flash catching it in mid air. Beast and bolt impacted the cave wall an instant later, the war shadow wildly flailing at the crude crystal spear drilled into its belly. The young dungeon crawler continued to watch as the monster's struggles weakened.

A single, fierce bark of laughter burst free of the injured spellcaster, quite pleased with his efforts.


The aftermath of a battle in the dungeon was always a chore. Whilst prying magic stones from the corpses of slain monsters wasn't technically necessary, the promise of gold given in exchange was more than enough reason for the standard adventurer. For a familia living on the lower end of the poverty scale, that motivation was amplified ten-fold.

And so, Bell Cranel, sole member of the Hestia Familia, scuttled about the decaying remains of his felled adversaries. It was meticulous work to be sure as even monsters of the same species didn't house their cores in precisely the same place. In addition to that, a crystal's size played a key role in measuring its value, one had to take extra care not to chip or shatter the stone during the extraction process. Had the situation not been so dire, Bell would never have gone for the sure kill of attacking the magic stone directly – it was considered Adventuring One-oh-One.

Bell mused on the fact that he could always wait for the decomposition process to finish, save himself the trouble of digging into the bodies. Of course, that would take at least several minutes, time in which more monsters would spawn and flock to this location. The dungeon had a funny habit of presenting intruders with increasingly aggressive encounters: Adventuring One-oh-Two.

It was this last notion that kept Bell's gaze wandering back to the pair he'd saved moments earlier. The axe-wielder in heavy leather had tossed out the name Ghiran in greeting before turning back to fuss over his companion. Bell had offered his own name in return, a long pause persisting before the petite mage introduced himself with a groaned "Foust."

Ghiran and Foust were busy collecting themselves. Well, the bulky warrior was doing his best to "collect" his friend, but Foust remained adamant in saying he could walk on his own. Bell continued to gather stones, neither adventurer making a comment on his actions. Every stone, or piece of one, was plopped into a little pouch at the boy's waist.

"We're ready to leave, Bell."

The rookie dungeon diver looked up, dropping the last crystal fragment into his bag, It seemed Foust had settled on riding piggyback, an easy choice when the alternative had been a princess carry. The mage refused to look at either of them, Ghiran's calm smile taking on a good degree of smug.

Bell nodded, an easy expression on his face. Then the boy drew his blade, turning to begin the trek back to the surface. Ghiran followed close behind, Foust keeping watch from his perch.

"You're very strong," Ghiran said, "never would have expected we'd run into a level two on the beginner floors."

Bell gave an awkward laugh, continuing forward. "Well, I'm actually just a level one."

There was a good pause and Bell could almost feel the look of shock painted on Ghiran's face.

"No way. Fighting that many war shadows is impressive enough, but you barely even took a scratch! Any other rookie would have come away a bloody mess, if they even walked away at all."

Casting back a side glance, Bell tapped his injured shoulder with the pommel of his knife. "Barely a scratch," he said with some humor.

Foust piped up, eyes still scanning the area, "Your movements were quite efficient. I've never seen anyone just… flow the way you did."

The group rounded their way up a passage to the first floor. A lone goblin turned at their approach, Bell raising his knife in challenge. The monster regarded them for a moment, noting the ash-blood of the war shadows still flaking off the boy, then fled into a side corridor.

Foust, heedless of the little beast, continued, "Your technique was unrefined, likely due to inexperience as you say, but you're certainly a cut above the average rank and file."

Ghiran scoffed. "When did you become such an expert?"

"Mage Defense One-oh-Three: Threat Assessment," the fair boy deadpanned, "its not about who's the biggest or the most aggressive, always watch for whoever has the best flow in their motions."

Bell half listened to the conversation, noting some interesting parts. The tunnel widened into a vast cavern ahead, the last rays of daylight filtering down from the dungeon entrance. A spiral staircase wrapped around the perimeter of the shaft, rising up towards the surface.

Footsteps caught the boy's attention, Bell rounding on the sound with his blade raised. A modest group of adventurers appeared from an adjacent passage, giving the startled knife wielder an awkward round of stares. Bell pressed on, moving to the first steps as he sheathed his weapon.

By this time of day most dungeon delvers were calling it quits, making for quite the crowd of people heading back to the surface. Bell, showing his usual patience, stood to the side to wait for an opening. Ghiran marched past, bodily striding through the throngs of people as Foust offered lazy apologies and the excuse of being injured. Seeing the obvious play, Bell followed close behind.

Guild healers were on hand at the dungeon entrance, always at the ready to tend to any wounded adventurers. Spotting Foust above the crowd, more importantly the stream of blood caked over half his face, the medical teams quickly carved a path through the horde. Between their professional haste and Ghiran's rude advancement, the three-man party cleared the entry crush in record time.

Bell needed to be thrown back onto his cot. More than once. The boy had honestly forgotten the decent gouge torn in his shoulder, cleansing the grime from his body a matter of far greater concern. The doctors didn't agree and now Bell was biting back winces as an older lady in a green bandanna was stitching the gash closed.

Ghiran scoffed from his chair. "Go easy on the kid Crossette, he was a real hero down in the depths."

The old medic's hazel gaze fixed on the warrior, cowing him into awkward silence. "All the more reason for me to be annoyed. If your friend is so happy to play the 'hero,' he should be ready for the consequences." Crossette drew the wound closed, snapping off the string with her teeth before reaching for some salve.

"Sorry," Bell murmured, looking every bit the shamed child he was. That seemed to deflate Crossette who offered her own apologies. By then Bell had already retreated into his own thoughts, into the myriad of instructions driven into him on the daily by his guild adviser. If Miss Eina could see him now…

"-took on like half a dozen war shadows all by himself!"

The exclamation roused Bell from his musings. Ghiran was currently "regaling" the pair of medics finishing up on Foust. The diminutive mage looked even less impressed than the two healers, though Bell had some sense a lot of that came from Foust's desire to tell the story himself.

"What did you say happened!?"

Bell's free hand collided with his face, groaning into his worn glove.

Eina Tule, Bell's half-elf adviser, hunched forward, hands on knees, as she struggled to regain her breath. It was an odd sight not because the boy had never seen her exert herself – though that was also true – but rather the fact that the administrative hall was literally right next door. Just how hard had she been running to reach him?

Coming back to herself, Eina stood up straight, smoothing out her white sleeves and black vest. Ghiran made a subtle move to slide away from the fussing half-elf, Eina too busy straightening her brown hair to notice. Foust too resolutely kept his sight anywhere but on the adviser, reminding Bell that Eina did have a bit of a reputation for being a hard ass.

When she finally deemed herself acceptable and laid eyes on the rookie adventurer, aided by an intimidating flash across her rounded lenses, Bell recalled that the rumors were not entirely unfounded.

"Bell Cranel! Debriefing, now!"

Bell wanted to crawl into a hole and bury himself. The medic Crossette finished up with the salve, reaching for a roll of bandages. The white haired boy had the excuse of being injured dancing on his lips, anything to hold off the inevitable, when Crossette sold him out.

"Here Eina dear," the healer passed the roll, "finish up for me, will you?"

Eina grabbed up the wrapping without comment, kneeling on Bell's cot and not-so-gently grappling his frame into proper position. A wince from the boy gave her a momentary pause.

"What happened to you down in the dungeon, Bell?"

With no way to hold off the interrogation, Bell began to recount his day. For obvious reasons, he omitted the parts about the early morning, getting right into his long run in the dungeon. Now that he was actually going over it in detail, he'd really been on a marathon today. Eina seemed equal parts impressed and concerned… perhaps leaning towards the latter.

When Bell casually mentioned thoughts on venturing further down during his last break, Eina looked ready to launch into lecture mode then and there. But the young adventurer had already settled into the flow of a story teller, moving right along to his encounter with Ghiran and Foust.

The stern adviser stilled as Bell began the play by play of his fight with the war shadows. Foust eagerly joined in, much to the amusement of Ghiran and Crossette, painting Bell's basic details with a level of flair. By the conclusion of their "epic tale," Eina's face had gone white as a sheet.

"Half a dozen shadows," breathed the half-elf, her emotions drained. Plucking off her glasses, she began pinching her brow in an effort to ward off her migraine. "You'll be the death of us both, mark my words."

Bell could only rub the back of his head and laugh. The pair of medics working on Foust paused to make a quick exchange of money following the conversation. Crossette sputtered as Ghiran's face lit up with a bright grin.

"Regardless-"

"I'm sorry, Miss Eina."

Eina's renewed wrath died on her tongue as her charge turned to bow his head. This knocked the length of gauze from her grasp, leaving Eina to stare down at Bell's white mane.

Bowed, Bell continued, "I know I scared you. I know I went against all the advise you gave me and that I jumped into that situation without thinking. I'm so, so sorry."

The apology hung in the air, no one speaking as Eina stared down at her ward and Crossette dutifully checked over Ghiran for injuries.

"You're not going to stop though."

That swiftly un-bowed Bell's posture, both he and his stunned adviser turning towards the old healer. Crossette scooted away from Ghiran, beginning to collect her supplies.

"I've seen enough young men and women delve into the dungeon over the years and mended many of their follies on the way out. The ones who made it out at all. I've gained an eye for the kind of people who take on this life, the reasons they become adventurers. Thrills, glory, power, money, most fall into one of these categories."

The old healer finished her gathering, snapping her satchel closed. She turned to Bell, her red eyes tired and weary.

"There's a bit more to you than that, but you're not the first I've seen. People who find meaning in this life, who are struggling towards a higher purpose. You have that look about you, that frank innocence that eagerly presses forward. So as much as you apologize, as sincere as your guilt may be, I know you'll never hesitate to step in. Even when its all above your head."

Crossette stood, smacking Ghiran in the back of his head to indicate he was all set. Eina's shoulders slumped, a heavy sorrow settling over her. She couldn't help but agree with Crossette, she'd also seen her fair share of adventurers and it wasn't difficult to discern the kind of person Bell was shaping up to be.

The thought terrified Eina, something she wore plain on her face. The mood wasn't helped by Bell's lack of response, Crossette's words clearly striking a chord. The medic stood and began to walk away.

"Being stubborn ain't a bad quality, especially not in this line of work. But when it counts, I hope you'll stay conscious of your limits."


Hestia's day had not been easy. Her job at the food cart was not often demanding, but today their signature potato croquettes had proven very popular. On an average day, this would have been draining. The work was no less tiring, but the distraction it provided was invaluable.

Even with her efforts focused on rapid-fire customer service, Hestia's thoughts continued to wander. Some of the regulars had picked up on it; in particular, that one blonde girl who ordered five meals every two days actually emoted when she voiced concern for the little goddess. Hestia waved them all off with a smile that never reached her eyes.

She'd enjoyed last night. She'd immensely enjoyed last night. The memories had assailed her all day, sounds, scents, and touches rousing her thoughts with sudden spikes of searing need. Notions of returning home for a repeat performance pecked away at the corners of her mind.

It was all so disgusting. For every moment that pleasant heat burned at her core, it was swiftly swallowed by a pit of nauseous loathing. The cycle continued even now, heedless of what Hestia wanted. Mere moments from her front door, the goddess pressed forward in utter exhaustion.

The ruined church was not as dark as it should have been, a flickering, amber glow lighting the area. The candle they kept on the podium was lit. Hestia froze as the implications settled in. Bell was home.

The Goddess of the Hearth took a minute or two to collect herself before moving. She spent a third minute traversing the short staircase down to the basement. The candlelight from below shifted softly, a dark silhouette drifting in and out of its glow.

Hestia reached the bottom, rounding the corner to stand in the room's doorway. Bell was keeping busy, hustling about the small space as he did some light cleaning whilst checking a steaming pot on the stove top. He took no notice of his goddess' presence.

She stood and watched. An easy smile touched her lips as her child hopped from station to station. Bell always had a genuine energy about himself and Hestia cherished every moment she had to see it in action.

Then the boy turned a certain way and the light caught the missing sleeve and the layer of wrappings over his shoulder.

"What the hell is that!?"

Bell stumbled, planting both palms on the edge of the stove and popping back as he caught a face-full of steam. Hestia was halfway across the room by the time Bell turned around. She covered the remaining distance in a resounding leap, landing just in front of Bell. At once the little goddess engaged in one of her most frequent past-times: fretting.

"What in the world happened to you? What are these bandages? Did you get hurt?"

Bell's matron assailed him in a whirlwind of concern, her motions so fast the rookie adventurer was having a hard time following. Before the barrage of questions and curious pokes could overwhelm him, Bell managed to catch his goddess with both hands.

"Calm down goddess, it's okay – I'm okay."

The shift from "worried" to "stubborn" on Hestia's face said how satisfied she was with that answer. Bell valiantly resisted the urge to press in her puffed out cheeks. Still, he saw no easy way to escape his goddess' incoming inquisition.

So Bell recounted the day's events.

By the end, Hestia had run the gauntlet of emotions. She was content to hear about Bell's daily grind, enthused by his achievements, and anxious when he faced danger. Those feelings magnified ten-fold when the boy reached his encounter with Ghiran and Foust.

"How many war shadows!?"

"Altogether, I think seven? I fought six and killed four. We couldn't move Foust so Ghiran and I had to stand our ground."

Bell'd been speaking with his back to her, shifting the pot and snuffing out the flame on the stove top. Upon turning around, the white-haired youth received a sharp chop to the brow.

"You dummy," Hestia boomed, jabbing her finger into his chest with every point, "What if you got seriously injured? What if you didn't make it back, what would I do then? Why would you throw yourself into a situation like that?"

Backed up against the stove, Bell weathered his housemate's barrage with a bewildered look. When Hestia's rapid-fire accusations came to an end the room fell into tense silence. Bell continued to stare at his goddess, utterly dumbfounded as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

"Because they needed help."

The answer seemed to pull itself out of the boy. Hestia froze in place, unable to decide whether awe, rage, or concern should be her next choice of emotion.

Though it had been less than a month since the formation of her familia, the Goddess of the Hearth knew her child very well. Bell was simply too genuine, easy to get a read on. His honest love for heroes, their stories and exploits, couldn't be more blatant even moments into a conversation. As much as Bell's clear disregard for danger vexed her, Hestia could not help the sense of wonder she felt in seeing his conviction. It was on of her biggest reasons for loving him in the first place.

And this finally gave way to worry. His idolization for heroic fantasy was clearly fostering some bad habits and needed to be addressed. But Hestia could never fully commit to criticizing Bell, not over something so integral to his very being. The promise of danger to her child was concerning, but attempting to stamp out one of his core beliefs was…

"Bell… you can't just charge headfirst into everything." A pit took shape in Hestia's stomach, she'd spoken before finishing her thoughts.

The boy at least had the decency to look shamed, his gaze downcast. "I understand, goddess. I'm sorry for causing you trouble."

"You didn't say you'd stop."

Now Hestia had the young adventurer's undivided attention, his eyes wide with shock. "Goddess..."

"No," Hestia halted him, her palm thrust forward, "I have more to say, I need you to listen."

The small goddess stepped back, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Bell advanced to stand before her.

"You are an adventurer, someone who dives into the dungeon for fame and riches. You fight monsters for a living and in your particular case you lack any kind of prior experience or training."

Her words hurt, true as they were. Bell remained silent, still listening.

"The path you're walking is riddled with danger, plenty stronger than you have fallen in the dungeon to simple mistakes and random happenstance. I'm not ignorant to the harsh realities of this lifestyle."

At this moment Bell felt fingers grasp his jaw. Hestia lifted his face, holding steady when Bell's gaze locked with hers.

"And I know that none of that is going to stop you." A smile graced Hestia's lips, though there was little joy behind it. "You are so single-mindedly pushing yourself towards this childish goal of becoming a hero. I love that about you."

The warmth in Bell's chest flared, a fierce reaction to a single word.

"But it scares me."

He crushed the feeling at once, listening intently.

"I want to support you. I want to give you everything I have, whatever it takes to help you reach your goal. But I can't follow you into the dungeon and I can't always watch you. I know you're too selfless to ignore some things, even if it would make more sense to leave it be.

"If… if you died down there Bell… I don't think I'd ever come back from that. You're my familia, the only person I have. I know its selfish, but please, just take your time. You'll be a great adventurer, I have no doubt, but there's no need to do anything reckless-"

"It wouldn't be enough."

That statement was a slap to the face, stunning Hestia on the spot. Bell's look of guilt had gained a staunch resolve.

"I don't want to just go through the motions of being an adventurer, I want to do more. I need to be more."

Bell reached for his goddess, taking one of her hands in both of his.

"I know that isn't what you want to hear, I'm sorry. I promise I'll get better, that I'll become strong enough that you won't have to worry. I..."

Hestia almost ceased function as Bell leaned in, his features softening. His face was so close now, his smiling lips nearly touching her own.

"I'll become a great person, a hero, the very best there is. The kind of person… who's worthy of standing at your side, my Hestia."

And then the boy kissed her.

Her heart soared. This moment, this feeling, it was everything she ever wanted. Hestia drew closer, sinking into her lover's embrace as the kiss deepened. It would be so easy for her to succumb, to surrender to that familiar heat.

The tiny goddess stiffened. Bell, taking notice, pulled back in an instant. The look on Hestia's face was a blend of awe and apprehension. Bell's own confused expression gave way to a soft smile. 'This was a lot for her to deal with in a single day.'

Bell could wait for her answer – he would always wait for her. For the person who gave him a chance when no one else would, anything…

"Let's go to bed, goddess, its been a long day."

Still somewhat in a daze, Hestia could not ignore the spark of excitement she felt at her child's wording. It quickly became a non-issue as Bell instead tucked her into bed before moving to his usual spot on the couch. The good night kiss had been a pleasant change of routine, however.

An hour had ticked by, Bell long lost to the realm of dreams. Hestia lay on her side, staring through the darkness at her slumbering child. She could picture the contented smile on his lips, his easy breathing evidence of a deep, fit-less sleep.

Again the pattern shifted from quiet admiration of her charge to the familiar shroud of guilt. After an hour of alternating, Hestia was getting tired of trying to sleep.

She was beside Bell seemingly in an instant, slipping under the cover and draping herself across his chest. Bell's arms quickly wrapped around her in return, a pleasant hum issuing from his throat.

'I need to stop dwelling on what happened.' It was far from the first time she'd told herself as such, but she was frankly exhausted at this point. She had coerced a young man into caring for her by playing to his lust, taken advantage of his lack of experience. Nothing was going to change that.

'Bell says he wants to become someone… worthy of me. I'm the one who needs to be better, a proper goddess.'

Hestia closed her eyes, sleep finally beginning to overtake her. 'I'll support you Bell. In whatever way I can.'


While nowhere near as startling as the first time he'd awoken snuggled up next to his goddess, Bell couldn't help the slight start he'd had that morning. Surprise swiftly gave way to joy – in all honesty he was still having difficulty processing all of this as real.

He was in love. He'd do all he could to reach her, for his goddess to answer his feelings.

The morning routine was much the same as always. Hestia may have been more awkward than usual, but a quiet happiness was clearly on her features. They went about their business in contented silence, save for Bell humming a little tune and Hestia's frequent giggles at the act.

It was just as the rookie adventurer was ready to leave that his matron spoke up, "Wait Bell! I should update your status before you go. Every little bit helps."

A renewed determination was lit in Hestia. Bell wanted to be strong, she would get him there however she could.

Pricking her finger, the tiny goddess watched as the drop of blood splashed against Bell's upper back. Their familial seal flared to life across his skin, the black insignia of a burning hearth giving way to rows of cursive text.

Hestia reached her first pause as she gleaned the numbers depicting Bell's various stats. She had gotten used to the mediocre growth her child displayed, most of his numbers would increase only a few digits per update. His speed was doing better only because of the boy's excessive habit of running away from things.

The growth she was seeing now was certainly a cut above the norm, but it made sense all things considered. Bell had taken a firm stand against a formidable foe and pulled out a victory. More so, he'd done so for the sake of others, acting every bit the hero he aspired to be. Such things did factor in to the accumulation of falna and the realization of skills.

Speaking of which… Hestia's next pause was far longer than the last. The tiny goddess was having a difficult time comprehending the line of text resting beneath Bell's stat numbers.

'He has a skill.'

Hestia kept the statement confined to her thoughts. In the ensuing silence she read the skill's name and description. She did this twice, blinked several times, and then gave it a third read.

'Divine Champion: denotes one who is chosen by the gods. Grants a boost in status when an individual acts in the name of their deity. Magnitude determined by one's level of devotion and the quality of bond between the individual and their deity.'

"Hestia?"

The Goddess of the Hearth snapped back into focus, inhaling a sharp breath. "Ah, sorry about that!" Hestia snatched up a sheet of parchment from the nearby table. Pressing it against her child's back, an imprint of the boy's status was copied onto the paper. Swinging her leg around, Hestia un-straddled Bell as she gave the parchment a few "drying" strokes.

As she stretched out the sheet, she noticed the new skill, while named, was now lacking its description.

"Hmm? What's that written at the bottom?"

Bell's voice came from just to her left, his chin resting on Hestia's shoulder as his warm front covered her back. The little goddess could feel her heart sing at the blatant intimacy.

But then it registered just what minute detail had caught Bell's eye, or rather a certain lack of details. In that moment, Hestia made a snap decision.

"Congratulations Bell," she gave him her brightest smile, "looks like you finally managed to get yourself a skill."

Her boy lit up like the sun. Bell snatched up his status sheet and proceeded to bounce and twirl over the mattress. His joy was contagious; even though the bed was far from stable enough to handle such stress, she'd give him a few moments more to get it out of his system.

"And look Hestia! All my stats went up for once! I'm finally making progress!"

Her own smile couldn't help but grow as Bell collapsed onto his goddess, wrapping her up in his arms as they both fell onto the bed. Hestia launched into girlish laughter as the young adventurer waved the parchment around, fawning over his success.

"Hey Hestia, it doesn't say what my skill actually does. Do you, maybe, know what it does?"

Hestia's expression turned mischievous, not that Bell could tell from behind. "Hmm, I might know a little something..."

"… So, are you going to tell me?"

"And why would I do that?"

Bell turned his gaze from the paper to his goddess, a look of absolute bewilderment on his face. Hestia held out for a few moments in the ensuing silence before her shoulders began to quake in laughter.

The Goddess of the Hearth had no warning. Bell did already have the girl firmly in his grasp. Hestia found herself thrown to the mattress, her one familia member climbing on top of her swiftly after. Before any lascivious thoughts could form, the twin-tailed goddess fell under his merciless assault.

"Hahahahahaha! No Bell – hahahaha – stop! No tickling!"

Her white haired boy showed no mercy, attacking her sides and belly with reckless abandon. Bell snickered at the state of his goddess, helpless to fend him off.

Or so it seemed. Despite being such a tiny thing, bust size notwithstanding, Hestia quickly proved herself oddly adept at grappling. Bell was face down on the bed before he knew what was happening, his goddess perched upon his back, her fingers dancing over his ribs. She seemed to be laughing even harder than before, a touch of malice in her tone.

Bell shot up on hands and knees before buckling instantly under the barrage of tickles. The maneuver did manage to buck Hestia, her cushioned front bouncing off his solid back before she toppled onto the sheets. The young adventurer was back in the game, moving to pin his giggling goddess.

The contest continued on for a bit, both combatants vying for supremacy. Things ended in a draw as Hestia reminded them both that they'd have to get to work eventually. Bell gave himself a hasty once over before dashing out the door, off to another adventure.

He had forgotten to get a proper answer out of Hestia. All she had given him in his haste was the assurance that he could believe in her. Bell almost scoffed at the statement – there had never been a time since meeting that he didn't admire his goddess.

But with this recent shift in their relationship, it couldn't hurt to reaffirm his faith. The little rookie silently pledged once more his unwavering belief in his Hestia.

And unbeknownst to him, the sigils on his back hummed with a soft glow.


I noticed a lack of stories with Bell and Hestia as the pairing.

That's it, that's the driving motivation behind this story. Getting your intended partners together with a drunken roll in the hay is probably an overused trope in several circles, but I feel like it made for a good starting point for our characters and establishing their frames of mind. You have Bell, ironically, romanticizing the entire thing and making moves to claim honor and do great deeds in the name of his lady. And then you have Hestia who is literally devastated by her lack of control and feeling as though she's tainted Bell in wining his affections in such a deplorable manner. Having them ultimately come to the same conclusion of "I need to be better for my partner" really brought a smile out of me.

Quick/significant note here: this will probably be a straight romance in terms of pairing. By that I mean no harem shenanigans are planned at this time.

I like to give little tidbits on any original characters I introduce in these end of chapter commentaries, things like who they're based on/what inspired them and whatnot. Foust is both easy and dumb in this regard. He's a magic user who is named after Faust - a guy who literally made a pact with a demon - and just so happens to be an earth mage, someone who would be quite valuable when exploring "The Underworld." As to the misspelling... since the word "joust" is pronounced almost the same, I just replaced a letter and called myself clever. Funny also how the first spell our boy casts is a crystal javelin...

Ghiran... I really can't tell you where his name comes from. I feel like it's probably something I heard on one of the Dragonball series but I've been out of that fandom for so long that I just couldn't be sure. Considering my only design for this character was that they be a melee/barbarian type and I really didn't know where to go in terms of personality/background, it's oddly fitting I feel.

Crossette is Recovery Girl from My Hero Academia. Well, in temperament, at least. Her name is lifted from a very sparkly Blade from Xenoblade Chronicles 2. I might do more with this latter component...

So let's tackle the big point: no Liaris Freese. The life-changing encounter here happens with Hestia instead of Ais, so we have a different skill inherited. Probably could have still used Bell's canon OP skill and just adjusted the focus onto Hestia, but I wanted to have something that was "defined" as being specifically linked to the gods. This is both to put greater emphasis on the specific relationship between Hestia and Bell as well as for... events further down the line.

The funny thing about the way I've worded this skill to work is that, for an average person, it probably wouldn't be much of a boon as even in Danmachi's world most adventurers don't have routine bouts of Deus Vult! But because it's Bell, he sees being an adventurer and being a "hero" as one in the same. Bell wants to gain renown as a hero as tribute/a show of affection for his goddess. This means that pretty much every conflict he gets into is likely to proq that skill as he carries that heroic resolve into damn near every encounter. Say it with me people, "Protagonist."

Alright, enough rambling for now. One more update: 12/31-1/1