The next day, the Church served as a makeshift infirmary, with Bell Cranel seated on a broken pew, wrapped in bandages that bore witness to the battles of the previous night. Caster, ever the composed mentor, stood on the stage, carefully analyzing Bell's fighting style and techniques.
"Clever use of a hit-and-run tactic coupled with dual-wielding knives," Caster mused, his gaze intent on Bell. "Your reliance on speed allows you to overwhelm opponents, even those with greater overall prowess. It's an effective strategy."
Bell, though visibly weary, listened attentively as Caster continued his assessment. The stage became a makeshift classroom, with the mentor providing valuable insights into Bell's strengths and weaknesses.
"However," Caster pointed out, "you have your flaws. Hesitation can be your downfall. There were instances last night where you faltered. Precision in your movements is key; hesitation might cost you dearly."
He paced thoughtfully, his eyes still on Bell. "Your running patterns could use refinement. A misplaced step can throw off your entire strategy. And," Caster added, a thoughtful expression on his face, "the range of your knife leaves you vulnerable in certain situations. We should explore ways to compensate for that limitation."
Bell absorbed the feedback, a mix of gratitude and determination in his eyes.
Caster shifted his focus from Bell's physical prowess to his magical abilities. "Your magical aptitude is intriguing, Bell," he remarked, his analytical gaze honed in on the young adventurer. "This ability to record skills and spells is quite rare, a potential game-changer if utilized strategically."
As Bell listened intently, Caster delved into the intricacies of this unique magical record. "The limitation of recording up to five skills or spells adds a layer of tactical consideration. It forces you to choose wisely, to adapt your repertoire based on the challenges you anticipate. Each recorded power's one-time use before re-recording is both a limitation and an opportunity."
Caster circled Bell, his mentor's instinct guiding the analysis. "This ability gives you versatility, the element of surprise. Your opponents won't be able to predict your capabilities, adding a level of unpredictability to your encounters. However," he paused, a discerning expression on his face, "strategic planning is crucial. Knowing when to deploy each recorded skill can make all the difference."
Bell nodded, absorbing the insights. He shifted on the broken pew, a quiet resolve settling within him. "I'll work on refining both my physical and magical abilities. I want to become stronger, not just for myself but for everyone in the Hestia Familia."
Caster, his analytical mind ever at work, posed a thoughtful question to Bell. "Have you ever experimented with different weapons, Bell? A spear, a sword, perhaps even an axe?"
Bell considered the question, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "I haven't," he admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I never had enough money to spare for different weapons. I've been solely relying on my knives since the beginning."
Caster's expression remained composed, encouraging Bell to share more. "But," Bell continued, a glimmer of optimism in his eyes, "I do have some savings now. I could afford to buy a different weapon and see how it feels in combat. Maybe it'll open up new possibilities for me."
Under the midday sun, Caster and Bell made their way to the Guild, seeking guidance on where to procure new weapons. The bustling atmosphere of the Guild greeted them as they entered, adventurers exchanging stories, sharing quests, and planning their next foray into the Dungeon.
Approaching Eina, the reliable receptionist, Caster inquired, "Where could we find a good selection of weapons, Miss adviser?"
Eina, with a friendly smile, replied, "The Eighth floor of Babel Tower has a variety of shops run by the Hephaestus Familia. They specialize in crafting weapons and armor. It's a great place to find what you're looking for."
Thanking Eina, Caster and Bell set off towards Babel Tower. The journey through the city showcased the vibrant colors of the marketplace, stalls teeming with wares, and the hum of activity that defined Orario. As they ascended to the Eighth floor, the surroundings transformed into a labyrinth of towering structures, each housing shop catering to the needs of adventurers.
Amidst the clatter of metal and the aromatic scent of forging, they arrived at the Hephaestus Familia's workshop district. The array of weapons on display caught Bell's eye, from gleaming swords to finely crafted axes. Caster, with his ever-observant gaze, assessed the craftsmanship of each piece.
Entering one of the shops, Bell approached a display of weapons, his excitement palpable. "I've never had the chance to choose a weapon before," he remarked, eyeing a well-balanced sword.
Caster nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Take your time, Bell. Find a weapon that resonates with you."
In the midst of the bustling weapon emporium on the Eighth floor of Babel Tower, Bell's eyes caught a glint of silver at a secluded corner. As he approached, a longsword with red markings and a crimson hilt came into view. The craftsmanship was exceptional, the steel gleaming with a lustrous sheen. It held an air of elegance that immediately captivated Bell's attention.
The tag affixed to the weapon revealed it was crafted by a person named "Emrys." Intrigued by the unique design and aura of the sword, Bell felt a connection to it. The decision was made; he had found his new weapon.
The transaction ensued, and when Bell inquired about the price, the shopkeeper responded, "5,000 valis."
A moment of hesitation crossed Bell's face. He hadn't spent such a significant amount before. Nevertheless, the allure of the longsword was too potent to resist. Determined, he handed over the valis, securing the sword crafted by Emrys.
Excitement radiated from Bell as he showed the new acquisition to Caster. However, a fleeting look of panic crossed Caster's features, quickly masked by composed neutrality. Caster smoothly redirected their focus, guiding Bell toward a section featuring light armor crafted by a person named Welf.
As they continued their shopping, the surroundings faded into a background of various weapons and armor displays.
As Bell engaged in conversation with Caster, their voices weaving through the crowded Eighth floor marketplace, his attention momentarily diverted. In that fleeting moment, he collided with someone, a delicate figure with golden yellow hair, round dark blue eyes, and unmistakably elven features. The elf wore a rosette pink cape over a white shirt and a pink corset dress, accentuated with a purple bow at the collar.
"Sorry!" Bell exclaimed, quickly offering a hand to help her up. However, a sudden realization struck him, and he hesitated, recalling the aversion elves often had to physical contact. Before he could retract his hand, the elf unexpectedly took it, gracefully standing on her own.
She smiled, "No worries, I thought I saw someone familiar."
Bell, noticing Caster's absence behind him, turned to survey the area. A quiet unease settled over him. The elf, introducing herself as Lefiya Virdis, noticed his hesitation and asked, "Are you looking for someone?"
Bell, struggling to maintain composure, responded, "Yes."
Lefiya, her demeanor kind and accommodating, offered, "I can help you look for your friend. It's no trouble."
Bell, still processing the unexpected encounter, hesitated before finally nodding gratefully. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
As Bell's nerves heightened, Caster's voice echoed in his mind, urging caution. "Bell, get away from that woman. She's an enemy Master. She may not know you yet, but it's best not to take any chances."
Panic coursed through Bell, and he attempted to discreetly distance himself from Lefiya. However, before he could make a move, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, freezing him in place.
A man, adorned in armor resembling a dragon's scales, appeared beside him. The helm, shaped like a dragon's head, added an imposing air. His armor, intricate and unusual, exuded an otherworldly aura. A glowing sword hung at his side, casting an ethereal light.
Bell couldn't help but notice the contradiction in the man's appearance – attractive features reminiscent of an ice sculpture, yet with an unsettling calmness, akin to a demon. The man's voice, icy and deliberate, cut through the ambient noise.
"We need to have a talk," he stated, his words carrying a weight that sent shivers down Bell's spine. The bustling marketplace seemed to fade away, leaving Bell alone with the enigmatic man and the ominous promise of a conversation that could alter the course of his day in unexpected ways.
--
A.N : Servant Saber has come.
Guest : No he won't have any Harem.
skadi : No, no more servants for Bell.
were dragon : If you mean the Waver/Zhuge liang that is the name of Both people in As Pseudo Servant.
