Danmachi: Fated Hero or Foolish Demise?

by Darth-Bagus27

Following the events of Danmachi Light Novel 18, Bell is walking through Orario, trying to clear his mind. Bell is a level 5 but soon will realize that he needs to get far stronger. (This is a cross-post from Wattpad by me, the author.)

2. Prologue RW

Prologue RW

Author's Notes(A/N): Hello everyone! This A/N serves a varying purpose depending on how much you've read of this story. If you are a newcomer, and Chapters 1-9 have the letters RW, then the rewrites have been completed (Yes, I decided to include Chapter 9 to fix some very slight issues), and you can skip to the last paragraph of this A/N. If Chapters 1-9 don't all have RW, then be aware I am rewriting them before I continue the story, and you can skip to the last paragraph of this A/N. If you have read the original Prologue, I suggest you read the next paragraph.

Aside from adding more context and improving my original quality with a set style, the original ending, involving a specific faction, will be moved to the start of Chapter 1 RW. It will flow much better. Also, I've decided to turn on the mature rating to be on the safer side as a chapter in my rewrite, and future chapters will contain elements leaning on the darker side. Also, I'm sorry this took so long. I am fairly certain the others, say for chapter 8, won't take as long.

For the newcomers, first, thank you for giving this story a chance. This chapter will follow my OC and starts just before the main series. I want to assure you of two things regarding my OC. First, his identity is set in stone and will not be a bait and switch. Second, his identity is not the story. That said, I hope you all enjoy the beginning of this very massive story.

As a pair of crimson eyes became enthralled with what stood before him, the white-haired boy sprinted into the city larger than kingdoms. Excitement plastered across his young face—dreams running through his mind.

But elsewhere in the world, the silver eye of a figure remained unvarying in the presence of a wasteland, masquerading as a farm. The winds blew fallen leaves. The sun's rays warmed the earth beneath his feet. The man, wrapped in shadows, remained unmoving despite all these. No matter how much his robe fluttered or the sun beamed down upon him, he would not budge from either.

His gaze ignored the destruction as it was attached to the distant horizon. His face was not whole but of fragments. The left side, in its entirety, was sheltered by the hood of his robe. The right side, while visible, was darkened by blotting out the rays from above.

His physique, past a height of 6'2", could not be determined. The part of him not hidden away inside his robe was his hands. They rested atop a wooden cane, reaching his chest. Besides a single black line that ran down the shaft, it resembled all others that possessed a hook for the head.

In contrast to the young boy's amazement at seeing the magnificent city where he envisioned a bright future ahead of him, the man's sight left the horizon to reconvene at the decrepit farm, emotions forsaken.

A farm drained of life. A farm missing a soul. A farm... to serve as but a momentary dwelling for the man and the quest he must uphold.

The farm, a few acres in size and outlined by fallen fences, encompassed three structures of varying size. A shed where wooden flakes would become dislodged and ride the wind. A barn where the paint that remained resembled that of accidents. A house that was the sole survivor of the forces of decay, located in the center of everything.

He stood just past the outskirts of the farm, next to where a gate would be. After a few minutes of allowing the air to flow around him, he would find himself walking down the path leading to the house. His left hand would leave his cane, greeting his forehead.

"Of all the offers... why did I select his to impede my search? Better question: why am I sacrificing a year? So much can be-"

His mental dialogue and movement paused just as he was about to crush something. He knelt down, removing his hand from his forehead.

"What do we have here?"

He dusted some loose dirt out of the way and picked up the shimmering object, polishing it off his robe. Holding it up to his face, he recognized what it was.

"A monster crystal. Judging by the size, you belonged to a goblin. Hmm..."

His vision panned over everything, focusing on the shed and barn.

"They don't appear to be the victims of monster attacks."

A glance at the farmland was taken, a blank expression on his face.

"Hmm. Intriguing."

He raised from his kneel, placed the crystals within his robe, abandoned his march toward the house, and walked over to the farmland. On it, his eyes scanned about until they landed on an irregular patch. Kicking some of the soil, he uncovered a few crystals. His cane was placed on the ground as he lined the crystals up.

"Same size, same monster. Judging based on how close they were found, they were attacking as a group. But there should've been at least one drop item."

He continued surveying the land right as his eyes caught onto another nearby patch. Clearing it out, his suspicion was confirmed.

"Kobold nails matching the number of monster crystals. They don't hunt in packs, say for attacking in happenstance. So was it by chance... or by force?"

Just as he was about to grab his cane and move to another farmland spot, he kicked away more soil from nearby. Not because something was buried in it but because of the lack of something.

"No signs of earthworms or other ground dwellers?"

His brow raised, and possibilities circled inside him. Desiring to complete his deduction, he grabbed his cane and relocated to a different spot on the farmland where a rock around the size of a person's head was embedded into the ground. Using his cane as a lever, the rock flipped to reveal the lack of life.

"Twice in different places? Hmm."

He took a few steps back before driving his cane into the ground. He dragged it up, soil still falling from it, and brought it close to his face.

Sniff. "The best fertilizer and pesticide, monster blood. It saturates the soil. Just on the farmland or all over the farm?"

The cane was flicked, dispelling the soil adhering to it. In an instantaneous moment, a yellow flash traveled through the cane, burning the scent off. He returned to where he found the monster crystal on the path after procuring any monster crystals that caught his eye and saw a worm moving through the ground.

His sight returned to the shed and barn, comparing them to the equally disarray farmland.

"The lack of maintenance explains the structures, but the forces of nature fail to explain the farmland."

He looked over at the large house.

"Based on the pungency of monster blood, the plentiful crystals, and the size of the house, I can assume the farmers took place in a massive battle... and lost."

The man reached into his robe, selecting a set of crystals collected from the soil. Some splintered in half. Some were just fragments.

"All of these were bitten into. If there were an enhanced species, it would leave credence to how a large family, experienced in defending themselves, would meet their end. It, too, would explain the pack of kobolds, as it could've herded them over here along with others. Having the farmers defeat them to consume the crystals, but why would it leave some in half and a large amount unaccounted for? Unless..."

His left arm extended outward, and he whistled. No more than a second passed before an eagle screeched and perched on the arm.

To refer to the bird as an irregular specimen faltered from an apt description. Golden coloration placed the rarity and awe of albinism to shame, for he reflected lumination shined upon him into a spectacular gold.

Feathers brilliant enough that the quills derived from them would be sought after. They were contributing to a wingspan larger than the man stood tall. Yet, it could compress down for ease of perching.

Retractable talons reached ten inches long, sharpened better than most blades, and reinforced for crushing anything unfortunate in its grasp. A beak appeared ideal for punching through armor.

But none of the features approached as the eyes had, honed enough to where delusions would fail. The man turned to his eagle.

"Gather any more monster crystals around the farm; if there is one that stands out compared to the others, separate it. There will be a window open for you."

The eagle let out a sound and flew off the arm, returning to the sky.

For the man, he shifted his sight to the house and continued both his trek toward it and his internal monologue.

"His argument was far from convincing compared to the others I've heard. His words had no charisma, not that a pervert like him could dispense any. So why did I agree to assist with repair and upkeep for at most a year? I suppose I didn't promise to spend a year here... I'll do what I promised. From there, I'll see what sentiment I'll hold."

He walked up the front deck and entered the house. This was his second time today, the first being when he placed his belongings in his room.

The house was two stories and suffered no visible corrosion inside and out. Unlike the shed and barn, the house was made of a combination of brick and stone. Wool lined the inside walls, acting as insulation.

The downstairs consisted of a living room with a fireplace, a kitchen, a dining room, and a bedroom now belonging to the robed man. The upstairs held the rest of the rooms and was now seen as "the old man's domain".

In the kitchen, the man gathered mushrooms, some potatoes, and a variety of vegetables from the old man's rations in the pantry. He selected a large slab of salted beef and seasonings from his own rations.

A pot was filled with water and placed on the stove as he prepared everything. But turning on the stove warranted no flame arising.

Checking under it, there was a shattered crystal. It was swapped out with one obtained earlier, and the flames came online. He waited for the water to boil before adding the ingredients in their respective order. And whether it was down to coincidence or due to the aroma wafting throughout the structure, the old man came downstairs. His steps echoed throughout.

The old man had a bushy beard, mustache, and hair, all grey. He carried the energy of a grandfather, a very perverted one. His physical build was large, fitting of a farmer. He was still descending the stairs when a smile appeared on his face.

"Haha! Well, isn't this a surprise? A farm hand and a personal chef!" the old man said with enthusiasm.

"Temporary farm hand."

"Yeah, whatever you say. I'll say that I'm pretty excited to taste your cooking!"

The old man approached the dinner table when the robed man pointed to the window next to him.

"Open it before you sit down."

The grizzled old man pushed it open and sat at the rectangular dinner table. Following a few seconds, a gust of wind blew inside. What was seen as the wind was, in reality, the golden eagle landing on the table next to the old man.

"Why hello there, Ospin. What do you got in your mouth there, buddy?"

Ospin placed the object, which was a crystal, in the old man's hand. A dozen more were picked from his feathers and placed on the table.

The man held up the crystal, and a sense of curiosity came across him.

"So that's what you were up to. Hehe. Don't tell me you, of all people, are running low on magic stones, A-"

The robed man glared over, and a silver glint flashed at the man.

"Refer to me by my name, and there will be consequences."

The old man sight partook in the standoff, lasting a few seconds, before shifting his head down.

Sigh. "My mistake... Wanderer."

His words were spoken begrudgingly but satisfied Wanderer, who returned to his cooking. The silence filled with the sounds from the kitchen was accompanied by Wanderer's voice.

"Ospin, toss me the largest of the crystals."

The eagle grabbed it from the old man's hand before flinging the crystal out of its beak at Wanderer, catching it with his left hand without looking up. All of which took place faster than the old man could notice. Once he did notice, he spoke with his laughter interrupting him.

"Haha! Is something important about that one?"

Inspecting it from all over, Wanderer placed it to his side.

"Yes. It has confirmed my suspicion."

Finishing the statement, the fire on the stove stopped, and a crack was heard from underneath. Looking under the stove, the crystal he had placed gave out, and the one tossed to him swapped it out. When he replaced it, the old man leaned forward and supported his head with his hand as his elbow rested on the table.

"Why are ya even messing with the magic stone stove? There's a fireplace in the living room. Heck, why not use your own fire?"

"There's no firewood, and my reserves aren't as well stocked as you might expect."

"Oh? Then what is? Aside from lightning for obvious reasons."

Wanderer's sight focused on the food he was preparing when he answered with no emotion in his words.

"Ice."

"Ha!"

The old man leaned back in his chair, almost falling. When he recovered, his laughter continued, and he slapped his thigh.

"Hahaha! I guess your irritation with 'Her Excellency' had its perks past humor! Ain't that something, Ospin?!"

The eagle stared at the old man, expressionless. Seeing this, the old man calmed down.

"I cannot get over how weird it is for him to not answer me."

"Ospin isn't fond of conversing, even with me."

"Reminds me of someone who dresses in a pitch-black robe, regardless of the weather! But, hey, I guess that makes him the perfect companion."

The old man's smile transformed into a yawn and stretch. He looked out the window with the sun's rays falling onto his gray hair.

"I can tell you are making a stew; what kind?"

"Beef and mushroom."

His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked back at Wanderer.

"Doesn't that take over an hour to finish?"

"Under normal circumstances. The beef I'm using has been preserved in salt, which is already safe to consume. Placing it in the pot blends the flavor with the other ingredients. It shouldn't take too much longer."

"Sounds good!"

The old man began petting the head of the eagle, who still remained expressionless. After a minute, he looked back at Wanderer.

"Have you checked on the inside of the barn or shed yet?"

"Not yet. I'll look at the barn tomorrow."

"Let me tag along. I'm pretty sure the people who lived here had seed and food reserves."

"Very well."

Some time passed, and the old man drifted between asleep and awake. But he was snapped out of it when the pot was placed in the center of the table, followed by a bowl and spoon in front of him.

"Serve yourself as much as you wish."

"Don't mind if I do!"

Rubbing his hands together, he ladled the stew into his bowl before taking a spoonful. First, he felt the effect of forgetting to cool it down, and his mouth caught ablaze, and his eyes watered. But once he powered through the initial sensation, his eyes widened, and joy overcame him.

"MMM! That is a great stew!" When you told me it was preserved in salt, I worried about overseasoning. But that's not even close to an issue! The beef is so tender, and there's this spice in it, but it isn't too spicy. The vegetables complement each other so well, and this broth-"

He took another spoonful.

"This broth is just fantastic!"

Wanderer took a spoonful from his portion and fed it to his eagle. After Ospin scoffed it down, the bird gave a confirming nod, and Wanderer began eating the soup proper.

"What? Thought I was trying to flatter you into continuing to cook for me? Why didn't you try for yourself?"

"..."

"Oh yeah, that slipped my mind..."

The old man continued eating the soup and decided to power through the burning sensation. He soon pointed his spoon at Wanderer, sitting across from him.

"Either way, that is without question the second-best stew I've ever had. I want you to guess who's first."

"Zald."

"Zald! That said, being relativistic to Zald regarding cooking is a feat in itself. What is the name of this dish?"

Wanderer's eye greeted the pervert's.

"Das Königsgambit. Dwarven speech, translating to The King's Gambit. Created by the king, prince at the time, to unite the other two smaller kingdoms throughout dinner. The gambit comes from his aggressive use of spices and a nontraditional combination of herbs and vegetables. The actual version was spiked with strong whiskeys, hence why the negotiations were short."

The old man giggled to himself.

"Which part did you find comical?"

"Well, the story itself is pretty funny, but that's only part of the reason. I'm laughing over the term 'Dwarven speech'. There are, at most, a couple of handfuls of those who can still speak it, even fewer so that they can be called fluent in it. Same goes for Amazon's tongue, and all the others, except-"

"Both variations of Elvish: standard and royal. A race notorious for believing themselves to be better is bound to have a language only they are meant to understand to pass on. Not accounting for the ease of preserving history; although, in an altered way for some instances."

Wanderer focused his attention on his food. He would alternate between feeding himself and his eagle. By the time he was halfway through his serving, the old man was in the middle of serving himself another portion. When the old man brought a spoonful to his mouth, he couldn't help but start laughing and pointed the empty spoon at Wanderer again.

"Even though I made fun of it earlier, I think a robe like yours would be nice. I mean, it would be nice to have something to protect your skin all the time, especially in your case."

He tapped the left side of his face and winked his left eye.

"We both know your skin could do with less scarring."

"..."

The silver eye sharpened, but the old man continued talking.

"Ah, relax, will ya. You have to be honest; it is hilarious when you think about it. Textbook definition of a cruel irony."

"I am aware, old man."

Wanderer pushed his bowl to the side, leaving the leftovers to Ospin. The old man rolled his eyes and finished his second bowl, then leaned back in his chair, articulating with his hands.

"You call me old, but you're no spring chicken yourself. Hell, you eat more like an old man than I do!"

"I don't deny that. But in terms of years, I might as well be a newborn compared to you."

The man across from him laughed and slapped his knee.

"HAHA! That's a good one! But your age is atypical of what is to be expected. But aside from the physiological differences, you're here demanding I refer to you as Wanderer while you call me old man. All I'm saying is that if I wasn't as easygoing as I am, I would invoke the status I have and demand to be referred to by my-"

"Status? What status? Of being a god, which means nothing to me? Or is it of being the head of the strongest familia whose members have perished. Zeus, you don't have any status."

The deity shrugged as he grinned.

Hmph. "I guess you can say you and I are more alike than you care to admit."

Wanderer's eyes focused on the deity, and his monotone voice, absent of emotion, pertained a slight inflection of annoyance.

"Comprehend this. That loss of a secondary family is our sole commonality. I am nothing like you."

Zeus's face contorted into an ear-to-ear grin, raising Wanderer's eyebrow.

"You're right. That is the only thing we have in common. For instance, I know the location of the child I took part in raising. The same can't be said about you."

Wanderer fired up from his seat, and his chair fell backward. A dark purple-black mist encircled the table, originating from the hidden side of his face. The physical pressure of the room became heavy. He formed a fist with his left hand, veins popping from it. The hint of annoyance transformed into restrained malice.

"I will say this once. You will not mock my search for her. Regardless of length, I will keep looking until I find her. Her and Hope! As for your grandson, he will meet his end in that bastard city. Just like the people who lived here met theirs."

The god kept grinning in the face of hostility.

"What makes you think Bell is going to fall? I think he has the makings of-"

"Of what? A hero? How very comical. The Age of Heroes is dead, and he will die alongside the mountains of others who believed themselves different."

"Let's agree to disagree. Cough"

Despite his efforts to appear unaffected, the mist started causing Zeus to cough. The room returned to its original pressure when the mist retreated back to which it came.

Wanderer picked up his chair before taking his bowl and spoon to the kitchen. In it, Zeus waved him down.

"Mind getting this fallen deity some water."

"Fine."

He grabbed a mug, filled it with water, and placed it in front of Zeus. Turning around to head back to the kitchen, the god tapped on him to stop.

"What gave it away that the folks who once lived here died and didn't just up and leave?"

Without turning around, Wanderer answered.

"An assumption consisting of several factors: The abundance of monster blood, drop items, and monster crystals on the farmland. My final piece of evidence is the crystal Ospin tossed to me is far larger than the norm to be expected, and several crystals recovered on the farmland were bitten into. I have ascertained that an enhanced species of unknown type corralled lower monsters to the farm while they were on the field. They defended themselves until it appeared, where it killed them all but died itself. As for how long ago, I can't tell. But based on the rotting of the shed and barn, at least six years have passed."

Zeus's eyes widened, and a look of amazement landed on him.

"You stand to have a better chance at finding her than I thought. But back to the family."

Zeus looked down and had a somber voice.

"See, the rest of the village and I were good friends with them. A big, self-sufficient family, producing more than enough to trade in the village. They didn't show up often, but it was always a blast when they did. About seven years ago, they didn't show for that year or the year after. Maybe we were too hopeful, but we assumed they had given the farm to someone else or traveled to a new horizon. It wasn't until I and one person from the village who knows I'm alive, Richard, came here."

The god started twirling his thumbs, and the smile began fading.

"After he helped move my things in, I found the journal of the father, named Octavian. Since the birth of his first of many children, he never skipped a day writing in that journal. A real big thing, I tell you. The last time he wrote in it was seven years ago. It was how everyone tomorrow would help their amazing harvest, even his pregnant wife, Calleneta. They had five kids, six if you counted the one on the way. The oldest child was preparing to leave the farm and find his own way. The youngest was no older than when you lost her."

Wanderer's eyebrows furrowed as something connected in his mind.

"Seven years ago? Wasn't that-"

"When the monster attack hit my village? Yeah. My best guess is that they suffered the brunt of it."

A silence permeated through the air, with Wanderer standing still. The god commented after seeing this.

"Don't feel guilty or responsible for their deaths. There was nothing you could've-"

"I don't feel guilty."

Wanderer looked over his right shoulder at the god.

"Their deaths are a tale as old as time: a man failing to protect his family."

The right of his face, still dark, was observed by Zeus.

"Empty. That is your perfect descriptor."

"You're never going to forgive yourself for that, are you?"

"No."

"Well, not counting that second family you mentioned, you still have a chance at reuniting with almost all your family members."

Wanderer started moving back into the kitchen.

"Finding her is but one step. I, too, need to find Hope. Neither will be complete without the other."

He collected his cane from the kitchen and headed to the front door, stopping when a question came into his mind.

"Old man, you never did explain why you faked your death."

"Well, I wanted Bell to pursue his dreams of heading to Orario and becoming a hero. Maybe even gather a harem while he's at it! I knew he wouldn't go if I was still around, so I faked my death and left the village with Richard's assistance."

"So not only did you taint a young boy with your deprived ideology regarding women, you are responsible for him marching to his death. Grandfather of the year."

Zeus shot himself up from his seat.

"Now you wait just one-"

He exited the dwelling before Zeus could raise his rebuttal, walking to the edge of the farm where he stood earlier. Leaving one hand on the cane and the other clenched into a fist, he watched the sun recede under the horizon, remaining there until the moon arose behind him.

Closing his eyes brought images and words that encircled his head daily, with one phrase haunting him. "I'll see you on the other side.". He murmured to himself, saying,

"I will keep going... for you."

The Next Day

The sun started ascending, casting down its warming light upon the world. On the front deck was Wanderer, standing at rest, and Ospin perched on the part of the railing.

Both were awake long before dawn and waited for the other house occupant to join them outside. The minutes rolled on until the front door opened, presenting a man in overalls and a straw hat.

"Sorry I took so long. I was looking for my hat. Well, how do I look?" the god asked with a smile.

"Let's inspect the barn before it collapses."

Zeus rolled his eyes at his question greeting air, but shrugged and walked down the stairs, waving for Wanderer to follow. But no distance was traveled as Zeus snapped his fingers and turned on his heel.

"Oh, I forgot to mention this last night. I found a necklace belonging to Octavian that I think you'll find interesting."

Zeus reached into his pocket and held up the necklace. What hung from it was no gemstone, key, or anything of the ordinary. It was a piece of a scale that absorbed all colors.

Wanderer's right eye sharpened, and he growled, barring teeth. The silver gleam became pronounced.

"Remove that from my sight before I incinerate it and your hand."

Zeus rolled his eyes as he placed it back in his pocket.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you. Still pretty interesting. It would explain how he got great at defending himself, and the day he didn't wear it was when everything crumbled before him. But enough of that, let's hurry up!"

The pair made their way to the barn, chunks of paint falling off. When Zeus pushed open the doors and took a few steps inside, a beam came tumbling down at him. He braced and anticipated the pain to arrive any second.

But after ten seconds, he opened his eyes to witness Wanderer holding the beam with one arm and pushing it back up. The deity wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead.

Phew. "I guess I owe you one."

"We both know you owe me more."

"True, but I'm only counting moments on the farm, not your past endeavors. Besides..."

Zeus puffed out his chest and planted his right hand on it.

"Whatever happened to, 'A thanks is more than enough of a payment.'?" He uttered with a teasing grin.

"..."

The barn started creaking, and fishers manifested in multiple spots.

"I'll hold this beam, but I suggest you hurry. This place is going to come crashing down."

Zeus became serious as he nodded and ran further into the barn, holding onto his hat. He began searching all over. The longer the god took, the more fishers surfaced around. But soon, he held up two bags and shouted.

"Found the seeds! There are four more bags. Can I get some help?!"

Wanderer whistled, and Ospin appeared beside him, hovering in the air. He turned to the eagle.

"Assist the old man."

Ospin let out a small confirming screech before flying over, collecting the remaining bags, and bringing them just outside the barn with Zeus carrying out the two in his hand. Right as Wanderer was about to release the support beam, the deity ran back inside.

"Hold on! I wanna see if I can find their stored-away food."

"Excuse my hesitancy, but if it has been seven years since their passing, most consumable food will rot."

Zeus, continuing to look over the place, responded.

"They always boasted about their safety against droughts. Trust me on this!"

Wanderer remained in place, still supporting the ever-cracking beam. Zeus ran about the place, trying to figure out where they may have stored it, when he stumbled upon a hidden hatch. Opening it up, he reached into the hatch and exclaimed as he pulled out the bag.

"Found it!"

His speech was greeted by a response, not from Wanderer but from the barn collapsing. Originating from where the god stood, he could not do anything but watch an encroaching doom.

That doom was transformed into a blue sky with him lying on the ground. Standing over him, the back of the dark figure.

Pant. Pant. "I guess that makes two."

The god looked at his empty hand.

"Shame about the food."

Wanderer held the sack up, and the deity's smile expanded. It was soon crushed when Wanderer pulled out a rotting piece of food that was impossible to identify.

"As I said, seven years is too long. Even my techniques, when it comes to preserving rations, require substitution, as they cannot stand against the forces of time."

The sack was thrown on the remains of the barn while Zeus picked himself off the ground. He dusted himself, shrugging at the expected reality he tried to deny.

"Well, what now?"

"Have misdirected confidence the shed won't collapse."

"Haha! Here, I thought your sense of humor was long gone."

Wanderer stayed quiet for a moment before responding.

"If it doesn't, we can finish repairs in a month. If it does, a month and a half at least. Our priority for now is to restore the field: removing debris and flattening it out."

He clicked his tongue and extended his arm for Ospin to perch on. Once the enormous eagle landed, he turned to it.

"Take the seeds to the front of the house and then check for any shovels in the shed."

A little screech was let out as Ospin flew off his arm.

The pair of men made their way to the field in complete disarray. The god kneeled down to see just how terrible everything was. He started to see how Wanderer came to the assessment he did from how demolished looking it was. Standing back up, eyes still on the field, he spoke with a confident attitude.

"I suppose we can get this done in a day. Provided you use-"

"No."

Sigh. "Then are ya going to accept that fixing this disaster will take multiple days?"

"Yes."

The wind was the only sound made between them for a minute. Interrupted by Wanderer.

"How many different crops are there?"

Zeus scratched his beard and looked up.

"Well, there's the four types I brought, plus the six we found so-"

Wanderer was busy driving his cane into the soil, interrupting Zeus by both his action and the particles of farmland flung upwards. The deity crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Care to explain why?"

"Ten different crops. Ten different sections. Ten days to finish. It is operating on the assumption you pull your weight."

"Pull my weight?!"

Zeus pointed at him.

"Listen here! I was an excellent small farmer in the village! I know my stuff!"

"That will be seen..."

Wanderer dragged the cane through the soil until he was on the other side, where he would take several steps before repeating the process. Amidst this, Ospin dropped two shovels next to the deity's feet. Zeus picked one of them up and began examining it.

"The shovels look usable enough. And what about Ospin?"

Finishing up with creating the last section, Wanderer walked across the field holding up his left hand when Ospin tossed the other shovel to him. He tapped it with the head of his cane before placing his sight on the old man.

"Ospin will be on standby should his assistance be required. Now, let us get started."

The sun reached its peak in the sky as the pair got to work. The eagle hovered over them, resembling a marvelous creation as he beamed gold.

Without a cloud in sight, the sun unashamedly poured down on them. Wind to cool was a rarity. But only one of them began to bear sweat on his body, and if it wasn't for his straw hat, he'd be drenched by now. But as he said, he "knows his stuff".

By the one-hour mark, nothing in the way of conversation was shared between them. This ended when Zeus cleared his forehead with his forearm and began fanning himself with the hat.

"Talking is said to be one of the best ways to make a job go by quicker."

"Quickness is not the desired result. Properly doing it is."

Zeus rocked his head back and forth as he mocked him before chuckling to himself. Grabbing his shovel, he continued assisting and chatting.

"Yeah, yeah, I got your point. But maybe I can answer some questions you might have."

Wanderer peered over to the deity in the corner of his eye.

"Where's your wife? Did she have enough of your unloyalty?"

Zeus rubbed the back of his head as an awkward smile landed on him.

"Haha! Well, Hera and I have always been living separately. She with her familia, me with mine. Yeah, we were basically one familia, with mine having all the men and hers all the women, but we were still separate. But after we were exiled, she went her own way. It might have been the best for her ego, considering Bell would've called her grandma. As to where she is? I haven't got a clue."

"I see. Next set of questions. Are the rest of the gods just as bad as you, and why is there a stigma around killing a god?"

"If you kill one of us, we return to Tenkai and can wait until you die. Since we are immortal, we close our eyes momentarily, and you're there. Since we have our full power there, eternal damnation is almost assured. But believe it or not, I'm more tame than you think. Most gods don't care about the lives of mortals. I'll admit, I'm a pervert, but I still care for people's lives."

"I see..."

They continued to work as the minutes turned to hours. The deity's shirt was drenched; he started panting and even fanning himself did nothing.

"Man... tha-that sun really is hammering down."

"Ospin, fetch the old man water before he faints."

The eagle flew over to the house, and Zeus smiled, closing his right eye due to the sweat.

"Thanks... this... this is some of the most-"

Zeus paused when he drove his shovel into the ground, and metal resonated. His thought was that of him hitting a rock, but after a double take, his eyes widened. Ignoring the exhaustion, he dug around the area, confirming his thoughts.

"I... I found one of them.", he said, breathless.

Standing next to Zeus, Wanderer saw what he meant. A skeleton, missing its top portion. Wanderer kneeled down when Zeus asked,

"You don't think I caused that?"

"You didn't. Look at where the spine is cut. Ragged bite marks. Based on the pelvis, it is male, an aged one. This one was the father. I'm guessing the enhanced species caused this, and the missing toes came post-mortem."

"Safe to guess the rest of them would be here.", Zeus uttered in a serious tone.

"Surface-level monsters tend to not have the strength to consume all the bones. My assessment is, discounting any the enhanced species that may have been consumed whole, their bodies would be around the same depth across the field."

Ospin returned with a bucket of water, carried in its talons, and a mug held by its beak. The eagle set down both before Zeus filled and downed three full cups before leaning forward.

"Thank you, Ospin... you... are a great bird."

Wanderer peered over at the eagle.

"Ospin, take the remains to the barn."

Zeus looked over to Wanderer, and the robed figure explained himself.

"Any other of their remains will also be transported over to the barn. When the field is restored, they will be reunited in a pyre created from it. We are using what once belonged to them, and it will be the least we can do."

Zeus's eyes shot open.

"Wait! You're still going to use the field?! After discovering a damn corpse, you see nothing wrong with-"

"Yes, I will continue to restore the field with the intention of using it, and no, I don't see an issue. Before beginning a lecture on morals, don't forget you went through a dead man's journal. The way I see it, we are reviving the farm, preserving their memory, and providing use to us, to you, once my tenure expires."

As much as the god wanted to argue, the exhaustion echoing through his body was too much. He begrudgingly spoke.

Sigh "Fine. At least the memory of what they created will be carried on. Let's finish up this section so you can make dinner tonight."

"Very... well."

Ten Days Later

The completion of the tenth section entailed a different ending from the others. Instead of everyone heading inside to consume a meal crafted by Wanderer, they approached the barn.

In the arms of Wanderer were the remains of the youngest. Less than half of the original family were found, the others being the father and mother. Nothing, say for a stray bone, was uncovered from the rest. But the one thing they uncovered with each segment complete was a new sense of dread.

At the barn, the last remains were placed next to the others, on top of the organized pieces of the fallen barn. Zeus stood back as Wanderer set the whole barn ablaze.

Not a word was exchanged, not that Wanderer would initiate an unneeded conversation. When it was completed, their ashes were collected in a vase before Zeus carried it off. For Wanderer, he stayed, staring at the smoldering debris, his left hand clenched into a fist.

The start of today followed not was established in the ten days of repairs. Rather than waiting for the deity on the front deck, Wanderer was in the shed with his eagle, being brought down to reality.

The state of the shovels was the sole expectation for tools not rusting away. The idea was for him and the deity to acquire wood to replace the fence, but with every manner of tool used for trees rusted to uselessness, the idea became sour.

"Straggling him along without assistance is pointless. Seeing as it to be the case, I'll use-"

A massive creak and groan occurred in the shed. The wood supports began swaying, and a fisher was created on them. Wanderer turned to his eagle, sitting on one of the shelves, and flicked his head to the door. Ospin flew out, returning to the sky, but Wanderer's exit was blocked by the old man in his farm attire, ready to work.

"You didn't wait for me today! Well, what are we doing today?", he spoke enthusiastically.

"We, in reference to Ospin and myself, will be heading to the nearby forest to collect wood. You are not a part of the required labor for today. I suggest you enjoy it. Once tomorrow comes, your assistance is to be expected."

Zeus tilted his head and raised his eyebrow.

"And what do I owe such generosity to?"

"There are no tools in a sufficient state which would make your presence useful."

The god shrugged with a smirk across his face.

"And here I thought it was for pulling my weight."

Wanderer walked past the god but was unable to get far as Zeus's hand fell on his shoulder. The sly smirk on his face vanished.

"How are you holding up from yesterday?"

"..."

"Look. We both-"

Zeus's train of words derailed when he was thrown to the ground. His initial thought was Wanderer had his fill of him, but looking past him, the shed had begun collapsing. He picked himself off the ground and wiped the dirt off of him.

"Hehe. So what is that now? Three? I'm guessing you'll have to account for the shed now."

"Yes."

Wanderer walked a few steps, stopping not because of any resistance but of his own decision.

"Young, old. Human, beast people. Natural, killed. Monster, monster-like. And all in between. I've seen it. I'm disgusted that the recoil upon seeing the corpse of a child taken from this world without grace is absent in me. Throughout travels... throughout time, it becomes common. The remnants and actions of injustice endure all. As to whether I became deadened to these through unending exposure or because of one, held above all others, is a question I will leave unanswered."

Wanderer looked over his shoulder. Locking eyes with the god.

Hmph. "I mean, I could figure it out, given what I know."

"True. But you know of the man I was, to an irritating extent, may I add. You know nothing of who I am and what I have seen."

The two stared at each other, with neither speaking a word.

After a minute or so passed, Wanderer faced forward and began walking to the woods. Accompanying him was Ospin, flying above.

The forest referred to was one west of the farm and a half-day track from it. The entrance to it was peculiar. The grass from the forest compared to the grass of the plane had a meeting where it happened all at once instead of gradually transitioning to the longer, greener grass.

The greenery and biodiversity were sights to behold. Upon entering, a pair of deer ran away after he stepped on a branch. Watching them gallop away, he started thinking.

"When my rations are depleted, the fauna and flora will be ideal substitutes or even compliments to the crops once planted and harvested."

Ospin floated down, hovering next to Wanderer as they continued deeper into the woods. He turned to the eagle.

"Mark ideal trees."

Ospin flew ahead, and Wanderer stood still, awaiting his return. Hands on his cane, he began pondering and closed his eyes.

"Once these repairs finish and the crops are planted, would I consider my promise to have been carried out? Debatable, but seeing as there is room for debate, I'll stay around at least until harvest. Past then, I'll see..."

He opened his eyes when the eagle's cry neared. It was joined by Ospin, hovering in front of him, and started leading him to the first tree. Wanderer's eyes bounced between the pile of fallen branches and the tall, bare tree.

He bounced his cane off the ground, catching it by the end. He aligned the head of the cane to the base of the tree. Rewinding his arm, he cleaved through the wood as if there was nothing except air in his path. The slash had one minor issue.

Sigh. "Intertia..."

The tree didn't tumble in any direction, as his swing was swift enough that it only dropped the few inches he knocked out. The matter was alleviated when Wanderer pushed the base forward, resulting in the tree falling onto his shoulder. He looked at the eagle to his left.

"Ensure this doesn't over/undershoot."

Ospin nodded, and the large log was hurled into the sky toward the farm. Trailing it was the golden eagle.

Back on the farm, Zeus was on one of the chairs on the front deck, lost in thought on the rather pleasant day.

"I hope you're doing alright, Bell. I regret not telling you that the journey ahead is taxing. One that requires patience. But I know in time, you won't let me down, and you'll acquire a hot-as-hell harem! Or if you end up more traditionalist, I hope you remember about peeping. Hehe. Hahaha- AHHH!"

He broke out of his thoughts when a major boom occurred. He fired up from his seat and ran to the front of the house, looking where the barn once stood. He saw a log on the ground with Ospin hovering over it. He pointed to the eagle.

"Did you bring it over here?!"

The eagle shook his head.

Sigh. "So it was Wanderer. I guess he's using some of his power today. Tsk. Show off."

Zeus spun around to return to the porch while Ospin returned further up in the sky, zooming off to the forest. In said forest, Wanderer remained in his standing stance. Broken out of it only when the eagle hovered before him.

"Did it land just?"

Ospin nodded his head.

"Lead the way to the other trees."

The process repeated for at least a dozen trees, all landing next to each other. By the third log, Zeus had begun tuning out the massive crash, joining each of them. All the trees were cut down without issue... until he was on the last one.

When Wanderer prepared to swing, he halted himself.

"Something is staring at me..."

He turned around and was greeted by an albino boar, three times the size of a regular one, charging him. Tusks sharpened, and a speed unfitting for its size. Within eye blinks, it closed the gap, steam exiting its snout. But when it thought the charge was successful, it was held off by one of Wanderer's hands, avoiding the tusks directed at him.

"Fascinating."

The pig was flipped onto its back, and part of the rear right hoof was removed, spewing blood, and a massive squeal resonated throughout the forest. The hog managed itself onto its legs. Unsure of what occurred, it limped away, leaving a trail of blood and irregular prints.

Ospin bore his talons but was halted by Wanderer raising his hand.

"No. Let it go... for now."

The eagle retracted his talons while Wanderer looked at the sun lowering itself past some of the trees. His sight shifted over to the tree he was about to cut down.

"I haven't done this in a while. Let's see if I still can."

He cut it down in an instant. But once the tree fell on his shoulder, he pushed it a bit forward before launching it.

This time, he fired himself backward, leaping off the base of a nearby tree. It sent him to the top of another one, where he rocketed toward the log in the air. Landing on it, he held his cane with one hand while riding it, Ospin flying with him.

After several minutes, Wanderer moved near the front of the log and kicked it downward, landing in front of the house. He lept off it, and no sooner had his feet touched the ground when he was shouted at.

"About time you showed up! I was concerned you wouldn't make dinner toda- wait, did you ride this log here?"

"Yes."

Zeus covered his mouth but couldn't contain his laughter.

"HAHA! Well, that's a new skill! I'm guessing that's part of what you discussed earlier?!"

"Yes. I learned it under my current name."

A rumble from Zeus's stomach cried out.

"As amazed as I am, I'm also starving! Come on, cook something up!"

"Very well."

A few weeks later

The cumulative time from Wanderer's arrival to now was over a month and a half.

What was once the victim of time was rejuvenated under the collective assistance of the two men and the eagle. Together, they proved to be sufficient in the restoration efforts of the farm to a semblance of its former glory to those who once abided there.

New fencing surrounded the perimeter, and gates at each end of the farm were created. Seeing as no animals were brought, except Ospin, the barn and the area where it once stood was left baron.

The lack of a barn influenced their decision regarding the shed. They decided to build it from the ground up, doubling the size of the original. With this additional space, a butcher station was added.

Built next to the shed and constructed out of stone was a forge. There, new tools were created thanks to Wanderer supplying metal and crafting them to replace the rusted ones. This forge happened to double as a blast oven.

Thanks to what was found in the barn and the seeds brought from Zeus, various crops were planted in the field. They ranged from iceberg lettuce, carrots, potatoes, and several others. The lines Wanderer used to divide the sections for splitting labor between ten days proved helpful in irrigating the land, each filled with water from the nearby lake.

As for the farm residents, Ospin was tasked with hunting and bringing herbs and other spices as both men's rations were depleting. Zeus was granted a few days of rest as a pittance for the assistance of the aforementioned construction. But with the sun hammering down harder by the day, it was seen as ideal for Wanderer and Ospin to finish the remaining work, considering both were suited to handling conditions that would give the god heat stroke or hypothermia.

But speaking of Wanderer, he overlooked the farm from where the barn once stood. For the first time since he arrived on this farm, he didn't have a task, say for waiting for the crops to mature.

Clouds were bountiful in the sky, giving a reprieve from the ever-warming sun. The air had a scent of freshness to it, absent when it passed through decay. In fact, one could even refer to today as pleasant, not that the robed man would acknowledge it as such. His hands rested atop his cane. His mind caught in conversation.

"I accepted nonstop work over several chances to be a village guardian for even a quarter of the time. Perhaps it is because this line of work has been different. No. The labor and what the labor has entailed is not the reason."

He closed his eyes.

"Maybe it is because the old man treats me like any other, not as some glorious savior. But at the same time, his knowledge of the past is irritating beyond measure. Whatever the case, I know you, sisters of fate, aren't in total control. Even when you gain more power, you won't decide the outcome of it all."

A gust of wind blew over him, causing his robe to flutter. He looked down at his left hand, staring at his palm. Finger by finger, he closed his hand into a fist and held it to his chest.

"It has been far too long since I've practiced..."

Extending his arm out, he used the cane to draw a circle on the ground. In it, he bounced the cane off the ground, catching it near the end of the base. A faint silver gleam began radiating from his right side.

Weapon three.

He widened his stance, placing each foot on the circle. His right hand held the cane by the base, above his head, and the other held over his center, taking the role of a shield. His stance morphed to his left, where he rested his right on his left forearm, having the head of the cane point behind him. The guard changed when he pointed the head of the cane down in front of him and had his left wrist rest on the right. His final position was to his right; the left hand covered his right shoulder, and the right held the cane far out.

"Swift."

Defaulting to a top stance, he fired his cane down with such speed the whoosh from displaced air was close to that of a boom. The cane froze right before it reached the ground. The same was done in the other three stances. A swing followed by the crash of displaced air.

"Potent."

Resetting to the top, he prepared himself, not moving for a minute. When he did move, his wrist flicked the cane around until he slammed it down with a force that pushed the loose dirt away, even when it didn't connect to the ground. The same was done with the other guards. The irony of them being potent was the speed at which they were swung, appearing at the same speed even to trained eyes.

Weapon practice.

The cane was tossed into the air. After a few fleeting seconds, it fell into his right-hand meer moments before he thrust at the invisible foe.

Retracting his arm, swung leftward and used that momentum to slam the head of the cane down. His assault on the nonexistent foe wouldn't end there. He rocketed the cane upward, twisting his body within the circle to deliver a blow with the base of the cane.

From there, he spun his cane above his head twice, striking with the hook each time. Completing this spin, he attacked with the end, accompanying it with a thrust with the head. Although this thrust behaved differently. He twisted the hook to pull the foe closer and held the cane closer to the head.

Acting as if the foe was right in front of him, a short jab to where the chest would be was pursued by one to the head. Both occurred within fractions of a second.

This demonstration concluded when he threw his cane near the opponent's feet, catching it by the very end to swipe their feet from under them before propelling the cane to the ground, damaging it and the surrounding area.

Completed, he tossed the cane into the sky once more.

Weapon two.

The cane was caught in the center with both hands. He replanted both feet on the circle and shifted his grip to hold the cane near both ends, one underhand and the other over.

For his top guard, the base of the cane pointed forward, and the hook looked ready to strike. His left mirrored the right, having the hook near the opposite shoulder with the base pointing to the ground. The low guard was the cane held low and parallel to the ground, each side prepared to strike.

"Swift."

Much like when he treated his cane as a mace, his above guard was the one he defaulted to. A moment passed, and the base of the cane jabbed forward. Just as the stance did, both left and right swung at a diagonal, utilizing the walking end of the cane. The below was a short rightward slash with the same end. All of this dislocated dust beneath his feet.

"Potent."

For his heavy attacks, the head of the cane was used, and he swung down in the top guard. A downward diagonal for the left and right. And a rising strike from the bottom.

"Weapon practice"

He twirled his cane about him, his lower body standing idle in this symphony of movement. When he brought the cane to his resting stance, air struggled to fill the voids he had created. But from this stance, he launched the cane forward and back, pivoting near the head. On the return trip forward, he twirled the cane to strike with the base and return to his top stance.

There, he swung twice, utilizing the head of the cane at a downward diagonal. He bent his knees and propelled himself into the sky while delivering a devastating uppercut with the cane. Reaching the peak of his jump, he tossed it down, sticking into the ground right behind where he stood.

He returned to the ground when he landed on the hook, planting it further into the ground. Returning to his original spot in front of the cane, he kicked the cane back up with his foot, catching it with one hand. He held it near the hook like a sword's pommel.

Still holding the cane pointing to the sky, his free hand tightened, and veins became clear. The silver gleam of his right diminished, and pain once invisible became subtle.

Sigh. "Weapon one..."

He lowered his extended arm, having the cane split his face into two portions if one where two look at him from the front. His other hand grasped near the hook, placed below his right. But no actions were taken due to a voice yelling at him.

"Are ya finally going to swing it like a sword?! No offense, but I'm far more interested in you treating it as one other than whatever those other two were. The second one was fancy, though, so I'll give you that."

His right eye twitched, and he refused to turn around to even glance at the annoyance.

"Old man... is there nothing better that calls your attention?"

"Haha! Not at all! I'm guessing the same thing applies to you, seeing as there is only waiting for the crops to grow. But ignoring that, I've always been interested in the various ways people hold their swords. Perhaps you can give this old man a glimpse at your expertise and show me."

Sigh. "Very well. There are four primaries: Tag, Orchs, Pflug, and Olber. Here they are in order."

[These are real Myers sword stances]

Wanderer raised his arm above his head, the cane raising even higher. His arms soon crossed, pointing the cane forward. Lowering his arms, the cane pointed up at an angle as he held it out from himself. Tilting the cane toward the ground warranted the last position.

"A plethora of secondary stances are derived from these four main stances. When I use my cane as such, a front-facing Pflug is one of three I go to. The other two are the secondary: Nebenhůt and Zornhůt."

He moved the cane to have it to his side and point behind him. There, he transitioned to rest the cane on his back, readied up from a strike.

"Ahh. Seeing everything, I guess I understand why your title is is 'The-"

"Refer to me by my title at your own peril."

"Oh yeah? Well, how about 'The Asshole'? Is that a better title?"

"Acceptable."

Zeus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. For Wanderer, the circle established earlier was erased with his foot because this regiment required movement.

Holding his left arm behind his back, he pointed the cane forward. Taking a step, there was an odd delay, but what came was a flood of thrusts paired with each step. Each step crossed the other, mimicking that of an elegant fighter. Slashes were kept to a minimum, constantly pausing his advancement, which was how he ended the set.

Tossing the cane to his left, he stood in an altered form of Pflug until he marched forward. This press onward was charged by aggressive slashes, launched at speeds that the spectating deity could only process it as a collection of movement rather than any individual. Reversing the applications of his walk, his steps were wide, and paused for the brief thrust. A thrust, having him slide across the ground, was the last attack taken. He tossed the cane up, spinning it on his finger.

"I bet I can do some of that flourish. It can't be that hard!" Zeus uttered with a cocky grin across his face.

Said cockyness caused Wanderer to pause and turn to the deity.

"You wouldn't be able to move my cane."

"Oh yeah? Watch me!"

Wanderer planted the cane into the ground. Zeus rubbed both of his hands, placing them on the base of the cane. Veins popped into his hands, arms, and forehead. The ones on his neck looked ready to burst. His feet began sliding, and his teeth grinned... but it did not budge one bit.

Pant. Pant. "Man, I thought the weight of it was exaggerated. Even discounting all of the features, that really is the best thing he has ever made."

"Yes, it was. I'd advise against continuing... to not risk injury to your back."

"Good idea."

Wanderer reached within his robe, through the center seam, with both hands. Emerging were a pair of blades stylized after arming swords with the guards curving upward. But Zeus's eyes popped when he saw them.

"Wait! Aren't those supposed to be short swords?! Why the hell does it look like they are forty inches?!"

"The blades are, yes. Despite the unusual length, they were crafted for one-handed usage and balanced as so."

Zeus rubbed his chin.

"So, which one is yours and which one is A-"

Zeus's statement halted when a mini dagger landed near his feet.

"Do not mention his name."

The god remained unphased and opted to smile. He picked up the dagger, handing it off to Wanderer.

"You wanna know why I don't get scared by you?"

"Enlighten me."

The god smirked harder.

"Hehe. Because assuming I don't cross the few lines you've set up, the worst you'll do is knock me out. Don't get me wrong, I know of your various ways of... persuasion. Just as I know that you despise me knowing of your past to the detail I do. Maybe it's because I answer your questions honestly, but your treatment of me is far better than most adventurers I've known."

"Difficult to believe. And adventurers?"

"They're like the mercenaries; I'll give you a run down later. But allow me to recount a tale."

Zeus placed his left hand over his chest.

"The time when I and the man who became Bell's father went on a mission. It was a silent trip. We knew what was about to happen, what we were about to do. Did we have any doubts? Any private traitorous thoughts? Perhaps, but neither of us said a word. Not on the trek to Hera Familia's home, not when we snuck into the baths, and not when Alfia and Meteria came to use it. Not a word."

"..."

"Well, aside from the screaming when Alfia caught us. I think that was the closest I came to death in my entire time in this lower world. The anger in Alfia's eyes makes me shudder to this day. But the view was one of the greatest. Call it a sacrifice I was willing to make!"

No words filled the air for around a minute until Wanderer commented.

"... Did you just tell a dramatized account of a story where you both fed into your perversion and spied on them?"

"Well, given how close we came to dying, I'd say it was more accurate than anything."

Zeus uttered that last phrase with a wink and a "shit-eating grin". This made Wanderer's eye twitch. He placed both short swords back within his robe and rubbed his forehead with his left hand.

"To repeat what I said, 'I'm unsure of what you see in that man, Meteria. But love is sometimes beyond our dictation. For I may never understand your reason, I do not need to. As long as you are satisfied with it, that is the sole factor that matters'."

"See? Not everyone-"

"As for you..."

He moved closer to the deity, holding his cane with one hand while the other was planted onto the god's shoulder. His words made up for the volume they were spoken at, aided by carrying his "stick".

"I will say this once. When I find her, and when she becomes a grown woman, if you ever did that, death is an escape that will not be supplied. If you know what I've done, you should know what I would do. I will have you pleading every waking hour for me to kill you, only to have it fall on deaf ears. That is my promise!"

The god stepped back, tugging on the collar of his shirt. Gulping at the sentiment and dropping his smirk.

"Well, there goes my chance. I wonder what you will think when you discover the perversion of another god?"

Zeus coughed into his hand, regaining his composure.

"Alright. I understand. Anyways, when's dinner? I'm starving!"

No sooner were the words spoken when a cry from an eagle originated from above. Ospin descended down with its prey held between the talons. When the bird reached eye level, Wanderer spoke about what he saw.

"Two albino rabbits."

Blood continued to fall from the eagle's talons when Wanderer reached into his feathers, pulling out several spices and herbs. He turned to the deity.

"Now that Ospin is here, I can start making dinner."

Zeus rubbed the back of his head, letting an awkward smile across his face.

"Kinda funny that those rabbits are our dinner."

"How so, old man?"

"Ah, I'll explain it another time. Come on, let's head inside!"

The three returned to and entered the house. Wanderer and Ospin made their way to the kitchen. On the other hand, Zeus stretched and yawned, finding himself sitting back on the recliner in the living room.

Yawn. "I'm gonna rest my eyes for a bit. Wake me up when ya finished."

"Very well."

Zeus continued to stretch in his seat, reaching for something behind him in the cushion. Pulling it out in front of him, he smirked before confiding with himself.

Phew! "I'm still having a hard time believing you did it that fast! But now it's up to me to convince him. Assuming he stays the full year, I've got ten and a half months to work with. The question is, how am I going to do it?"

Zeus scratched his head, deep in ponder. His eyes widened as he constructed an idea that a fellow trickster god would be proud of.

"It'll rely on you doing things, but I know you will. I know you won't falter to his grand expectations."

His smile and confident attitude accompanied him to the land of slumber, falling asleep to the sound of cooking.

About an hour passed, and the snoring god was awoken when Wanderer struck his leg with his cane. His eyes popped open, and he covered the impacted area.

"Oww! Was that needed?!"

"You asked me to wake you, so I did. The food is ready."

Zeus shrugged and, thanks to the hit on his leg, limped his way to the dinner table, sitting next to Ospin. The god rubbed his hands, looking at the bowl.

"Rabbit stew! I haven't had this in a while."

Wanderer took his seat opposite the deity, and they both began eating. Just as Wanderer cooked for him many other times, he couldn't help smiling from ear to ear. He pointed at the bowl.

"That is- Cough."

He pounded his chest, downing some water to assist the almost burning sensation in his throat. Slamming the mug down, he pointed at the robed man.

"That is amazing; I just wasn't expecting it to be so spicy. What is it called?"

"Beijo da morte. Amazonian for the kiss of death. Seeing from your reaction, you could probably guess why."

"HA! No kidding!"

"You should be aware that, like many recipes I've made, it is missing ingredients. For this, ghost peppers are part of-"

"Ghost peppers?!"

Zeus's eyebrows arched down at the mention of them.

"Who the hell would be able to eat this with ghost peppers?! And no, she doesn't count!"

Wanderer and Ospin looked back at one another.

"And neither does either of you! Okay, this isn't helping. That aside, fantastic as always."

As per the norm, the robed man shared his portion with his eagle. Never there was a meal where he wouldn't.

But as the god adjusted himself to intense spice levels, he saw this as his chance. He began waving the letter around. His first attempt was disguising it under a yawn. When it failed, he let out an annoyed sigh. It was as futile as the previous attempt to acquire Wanderer's attention. It got to the point of the deity blatantly swinging it in front of Wanderer before shouting.

"I know you've seen me swing this around like a monkey! Just take an interest in it already!"

He replied in a tone of voice emptier than the expression on his buried face.

"What is it?"

"It is a letter sent from Hermes. He's one of my fellow gods with whom I'm friends with. I asked him to keep an eye on my grandson. So, any letter he sends is meant to be large updates regarding Bell."

"When it tells of his death, you have my condolences."

"Well, if you think that's the case, why don't you open it and read it."

"No."

Hmph. "Then I will."

Zeus opened the letter, unfolding the page inside, and cleared his throat.

"From Hermes. Well, have I got some news for you! In just a month and a half, that boy, Bell Cranel, has decimated the record once held by the sword princess for the fastest ascension to level 2 ever! I've taken a personal interest in him ever since the Denatus, where he earned himself the name of 'Little Rookie'. As for other magnificent achievements of his, he saved his party from certain doom by dragging them to the 18th safe floor zone. Said party consisted of a supporter from Soma Familia and a blacksmith from Hephaestus Familia, both level 1. On a final note, he was instrumental in slaying the Black Goliath... which may have spawned thanks to Hestia unleashing some of her godly power on the 18th floor. Anyway, I'll keep you informed and up to date regarding him! Take care, Zeus."

The god clapped and raised his fist into the air.

"He's already hit level 2?! That's my boy!"

His vision fell back on Wanderer.

"So what do you think about that? I'm shaking from excitement!"

"Your excitement will die when you realize how he wrote parts of the letter. He doesn't mention the scale of those assisting him in defeating the Black Goliath. One could claim the person to deliver the finishing blow to be instrumental when another present could do so. Also, it spawns on the 17th floor. Getting it incorrect twice is odd."

"Haha. Nope, it spawns on the 18th floor. I can tell you from first-hand experience."

"I see. Still uninteresting."

Zeus scratched his beard until his eyes popped open like a revelation came to him. He smacked his head before doing the same on the paper.

"Ahh! I skipped over the part about how he became a level 2. He defeated a minotaur!"

"With the proper assistance, I fail to see-"

"By himself."

Wanderer hesitated, preventing the spoonful of stew from entering his mouth, and handed it off to Ospin instead. He shifted his head to look straight at the god.

"That is... notable. But, levels?"

Zeus leaned forward, placing his left arm on the table.

"Wait. You mean, through all of your time searching, all of the places you've traveled, and all the books you've hulled around, you have no clue about how our falna system works, do you?"

"No. I'm not omniscient."

"To be fair, I should've figured that out when you didn't know the term 'adventurers'. Here, let us finish, and then I'll explain. I'll need to get something from my room."

Wanderer nodded in agreement, and they finished their meals. Wanderer by handing his off to Ospin, and Zeus by scarfing down the rest and, once again, choking on the spices.

Zeus went to his room, and Wanderer cleared the table. Both men returned to it, Zeus possessing a pen and paper. He placed the paper on the table and slid it down to Wanderer.

"I'll explain the paper in a second. First, as you might be aware from what I said earlier when I was recounting that tale, an adventurer is the term we refer to people delving into the dungeon. The mercenary name got axed when the first of us gods came down to the lower world. As for how someone becomes an adventurer, they must first become a member of a god's familia. They become part of that god's familia, a child if you will, when our blood is put onto their back. That person is now an adventurer at level 1, assuming they didn't belong to another familia beforehand. It is important to know that most of Orario stays at level one."

"I presume there is a reason for such."

Zeus smiled.

"Yup! They must have at least a D in a stat when performing an incredible feat. That incredible feat must also be relative to their current level. It is also important to know that the process of leveling up increases all of their abilities before resetting them and gives them a level bonus. And that paper in front of you is called a status sheet. With the level missing."

Wanderer looked down at the paper, looking at the abbreviations for strength, endurance, dexterity, agility, and magic. Next to them were letters and values. Zeus pointed to them with the pen and explained.

"The part you are looking at deals with the basic abilities everyone has. For every level, they start at I0, and each goes up alphabetically in accordance with the number range. I range from 0-99, H goes from 100-199, etc. The exception is 900-999, which is ranked S. They all increase from fighting, if I am putting it bluntly."

"What is the lightning rod?"

Zeus chuckled and pounded his chest. His smile let a pleasant feeling, opposite to Wanderer's presence.

"Oh, that's just my symbol. The portion below the basic stats is the development abilities. This kinda varies from person to person, but some are more common. Take this person whose name and level have been torn off, great; they have Mage, Abnormal Resistance, and Treatment. Now, something like Abnormal Resistance is ludicrous with how common it is. But something like Spirit Healing, not so much. These are obtained depending on how a person fights. For instance, based on the mage DA and three magic slots filled, I can tell they were a mage."

Wanderer pointed to the bottom of the sheet.

"I presume where it says Skills is where it varies entirely from person to person."

"Yup! For the most part, anyway. I would explain what this person had, but, of course, it has been ripped up."

Wanderer slid the sheet of paper back to Zeus. Still lacking any sort of inflection in his voice, he spoke.

"What does this have to do with the speed of reaching level 2?"

"Because the original fastest time of reaching level 2 was the Sword Princess, who did it in a year. Needless to say, quite impressive."

Wanderer returned to his silent ways, tapping the table as a thought flowed through his mind. The thought became public when it was clear he needed to ask.

"Old man, were Zald and Maixm on the same level?"

"Nah, Maxim was a level above."

"But that-"

"Doesn't make sense? I am surprised that your particular sight can determine them to be relativistic to one another. But that is where the complexity of the falna system comes into play. Someone can have specific skills, DAs, and magics to close the level gap between people and monsters. Some are passive, some require specific conditions, or some require activation, like magic, for instance. Zald's was to gain strength depending on the strength behind whatever he ate. When my familia slayed the Behemoth, he ate the skin and got stronger than Maxim. Not free of cost, as the poisoned flesh did start to kill him. Weakening him, but he still hovered around Maxim's strength."

"What level were they?"

Zeus's eyebrow raised. His voice shared the same curiosity.

"7 and 8..."

Wanderer shot up from his seat and marched to the front door.

"Wh-Where are you going?!"

"To continue practicing. I have sacrificed enough of my time listening to you."

Zeus slammed his fist on the table.

"You know you are one stubborn bastard!"

Zeus's words failed to reach Wanderer as they were overpowered by the slamming of the front door. The god slumped forward in his seat.

Sigh. "Well, at least you and I can chat, Ospi-"

Looking over to where the eagle was, he was gone. Opening a window behind Zeus and flying outside before one could notice. Zeus's sigh became a grin.

"That could've gone better, but it could've gone worse. I'll have to ask Hermes to be more cautious when writing these. But now, his lessons of how things operate have begun. While I can't convince you to take an interest in my grandson, I can bribe you the one way I know will work... information."

One Month Later

Despite efforts from Ospin to stave off the depletion of both men's rations, it was an inevitability bound to occur before the crops could reach maturity. However, it was inevitable as it was caused by the restrictions of Wanderer on the eagle's hunting, prohibiting him from taking down targets cited as "unfitting for a bird of prey".

When the eventual reality caught up to him, instead of allowing the eagle the freedom of hunting, the robed man accompanied the bird to the forest, baring an arrow quiver on his back.

By the time the two entered the forest, the warm rays of sunshine illuminated the tops of the trees. Meer moments upon arrival, a plethora of targets caught their eyes. Game ranging from deer, moose, and even a bear. Said bear attempted to rush at them but was scared off by the loudness of the screech Ospin let out.

These options were of no interest to Wanderer, even targets that could satiate their hunger just as much as the one he sought. But his determination to find the one he hunted was solidified when it first graced his sight. After walking for some time, he squatted down over a set of prints.

"Four hooves, rounder than a deer's. A boar and the right leg of the back is missing one of the pads. Here you are."

He touched the dirt they were imprinted into and rubbed his fingers.

"These are old. I'll need to find some that are newer or something I can get a scent from."

As he was about to follow the old prints, Ospin dove down from above to eye level. Wanderer shook his head.

"I wish to hunt this one on my own. No assistance is needed. Go gather some herbs and spices."

The eagle flew upwards and off, searching for what it was tasked with, and Wanderer continued to search. Said search began to bore fruit in a literal and figurative sense.

"It was feeding off these berries, and a tuff of its fur got caught on the bush."

He examined the bush and compared it to the state of the fur. His analysis came to a halt when he took notice of a patch of mud not too far from where he stood. It was evident it had wallowed in it, with bits of mud flung around the place. But the most crucial piece that came from it was the tracks leading from it.

"Fresh. Very fresh."

Wanderer grabbed a branch from the bush and continued tracking the prints. After a minute or so, he threw the bush to the ground and leaped upwards, landing high in a tree. He took an arrow from his quiver, knotting it and pulling the bowstring back. His arm did not falter after several minutes of holding the arrow back, and his aim remained unshaken.

OINK

Hearing the sound of the boar, his eyes focused. When the albino boar, coated in the brown mud, came by, despite the limp inflicted by the removal of the pad by Wanderer, it still strolled with a sense of strength. It approached the branch, looking all around it except for the one way it could, up.

It began feasting, and the arrow was released when it lowered its head to consume. Faster than the boar's nerves could process, the arrow pierced the tough skin and removed the heart, planting it onto the ground.

Sliding down the tree, Wanderer landed on the ground and retrieved his arrow. He whistled prior to tossing the heart upward, it disappearing as the golden eagle snatched and consumed it.

A flash of yellow, the same which flowed through his cane months ago, flowed in the arrow in his hand. Cleaning it and accompanying the rest is his quiver.

He threw the fallen boar on his shoulder and began returning to the farm.

At the farm, the hunter and gatherer entered the shed. The boar was placed onto a meat hook, hanging upside down, and a flash of yellow flowed throughout the boar, disintegrating the muck adhering to it.

Wanderer acquired one of his short swords from underneath his robe and started to remove the organs of the pig, blood spattering over him and his hands. Excluding the liver, the removed innards found themselves in the position as the grime, once on the pig, evaporated.

Running his blade along the outline, he skinned the boar. One quick application of seasonings and herbs later, and it was prepared for the oven. He tossed several logs into the oven/furnace, letting a fire rage before placing the boar on a rack.

The man, covered in the boar's blood, turned to his bird.

"Get me when it is done."

The eagle nodded, perching on the table with the fire reflecting in its golden eyes.

The red vanished when the same flash used flowed through Wanderer. By the time he was walking to the house, any semblance of the blood on him had gone away. Walking up the front deck stairs, a blinding sun warming his head, he was greeted by Zeus. The god was sitting in a chair, holding the little note Wanderer left for him.

"How was yer hunting trip?"

"Accomplishing. A large boar is roasting in the oven. It will take several hours, and Ospin is watching it. I'll be in my room reading."

"Whoa, hold on there!"

Zeus's face formed into a smile as he got off the chair and stood in front of Wanderer, blocking the doorway. The excitement in his eyes matched that of his voice.

"I've got something for you to read!"

"Being?"

"Another letter from Hermes!"

"..."

Wanderer walked past the god, entering the house, much to Zeus's dismay.

"Oh, come on! At least let me read it to you!"

"If I allow you to, will you not bother me for the rest of the day."

"Ha! No promises."

Wanderer closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

"Let me place my quiver back in my room."

As he walked off, Zeus took his seat on the recliner in the living room. A grin adorned his face as he scratched his bushy beard.

"Alright, here goes attempt two. You better have dialed it back with the over-dramatization, Hermes. Although, I guess half of the job falls on me."

Wanderer returned from his room, tossing the god a pen and paper, taking his idle stance several feet from him.

"Under the assumption that alterations or oddities differing from my understanding occur, use that to illustrate."

"Thanks. Here we go!"

He opened the letter and unfolded the paper.

"From Hermes. More fantastic news involving that boy! In the span of a month, he has achieved level 3! But that is not all. The feat of achieving it is almost as impressive as the time it took. A war game between Hestia and Apollo Familias occurred, and, with his party members joining his familia and a member of Takemikazuchi's Familia, Hestia Familia managed to prevail! But the deciding moment came solely from Bell, who beat the Apollo Familia captain, who was a level higher. Since their victory, they've moved into Hearth Mansion. I'll keep you informed, Zeus; take care."

Zeus leaned forward in his seat.

"He beat Apollo's captain?! That's my boy!"

"..."

"Huh?! You've got nothing to say?"

Wanderer was tapping his head with his finger, deep in thought.

"If Zald and Maixm were relativistic to each other but had a level gap, is such a feat for him even worthy of notice? That is, working on the assumption he can seal the gap part of the way. Is it possible through sheer skill? Improbable, though without witnessing his combat firsthand, it remains an option. At best, it was some combination of the two, but if it was enough for him to level up, then it was considered taxing enough by the falna system."

Wanderer looked back up at the god on the edge of his seat as he awaited the response.

"Defeating a humanoid opponent that is supposed to be superior in base abilities is notable and does suggest he has a higher skill."

Zeus slummed forward after the underwhelming answer.

"Really? That's all you have to say?"

"Understand that knowing that there are many ways one can alleviate the level difference, regardless of rarity has made my understanding of the gap crumble. As a matter of fact, what was the lowest level in your familia. That way, I can differentiate a difference by comparing the weakest member to the two strongest."

"I'm guessing your gaze ability really has its perks. But to answer your question, level 4."

Wanderer closed his eyes, running calculations in his head. Opening them, he turned on his heel and began walking away.

"Hey, hey, hey! Where are you heading to?! Just because Bell's not even on the level of his father or the other weakest members of my familia- ignore that point. But if you walk away now, you'll miss me explaining something new!"

Wanderer halted in his tracks and responded without looking at Zeus.

"Explain what?"

Zeus scratched his head, not prepared for Wanderer to call his bluff. He looked at the letter, thinking of anything that could come to mind. Just as Wanderer was about to walk off, Zeus snapped his fingers.

"I got it! I've been mentioning all of these familias, but never have given you a run down on them. Bring that coffee table closer, and I'll explain."

The robed man turned around, lifting and placing the coffee table closer to the god. Zeus used it to place the paper and made six even-sized rows, three on the front and three on the back. He titled them as follows: Hestia, Hermes, Hephaestus/Goibniu, Ganesha, Loki, and Freya. He pointed the pen to the Hestia section.

"Ah, Hestia. It's been quite some time since I've talked to her. If I'm being honest, the only reason why I'm talking about her familia is that my grandson is a member. As cruel as this may sound, take Bell out of the equation, and her relevancy both to Orario and this discussion disappear. I'm guessing they are ranked E, and before you ask, all familias start at rank F and increase to S depending on their strength. Hestia, or how I and many others refer to her, Loli Big-Boobs, is one of the 'three' Greek virgin goddesses. From what I can recall, she is kind, energetic, a little immature at times, but can be motherly."

Wanderer's brow raised.

"Why the air quotes over three?"

"A technicality that holds no water as of now."

Zeus pointed to the next section.

"Now Hermes is an interesting case, as his familia operates quite differently from most. His rank is F for... underhanded tactics, but in reality, his familia is a solid mid-tier familia, with his strongest being a level 4. Familias tend to fall into two camps: Dungeon exploration or business. But Hermes is different as his familia takes on the more covert kind of missions, ones that are handed to them. Tracking black market dealers and the like. Because of that, they are one of the few familias that can come and go from the city. Hermes is quite similar to me but is still his own person and has a bit of flair to him."

"Has the city begun to restrict access?" Wanderer asked with the mildest hint of surprise in his voice.

"Not so much access but more so leaving. The dungeon's brutality is perfect for aiding those to level up compared to the rest of the world. So it would be pretty bad if someone from a rival country could enter, build up their strength, and return to their state strengthened and posing a threat to the city."

"I see. Carry on."

The god pointed to the bottom of the front page.

"This section has two familias because they serve the same purpose and produce about the same quality. Don't tell either I said that. They are the smithing familias. If you want the best of the best, you go to them. They do differ, as Hephaestus's familia is stronger, and Goibniu's does more traditional jobs such as construction. Hephaestus is smoking hot, and Goibniu goes straight to the point on anything."

Wanderer tossed his cane up, catching it in one hand before waving it around. Zeus scratched his beard and leaned back in his seat.

"How should I know if their quality is better than hers? You'd have to get it inspected by one of them yourself."

"Very well."

Wanderer returned to his standing stance, and the god flipped over the page.

"Ganesha is an interesting guy, to say the least. He has his own catchphrase, being "I AM GANESHA!". His familia acts as the city's police force and is the third strongest familia, boasting eleven level 5s. Just like Hermes, his familia doesn't fall into the traditional roles of familias. Ganesha himself is full of energy and eccentricity. While you might find his energy to be annoying, I think you can respect a group like that. Oh, and they are the largest familia in terms of numbers."

"..."

Zeus continued, smiling heavily as he got to this section.

"If you think my perversion is awful, you should meet Loki! He is as bad as me, if not worse! His familia is the second-strongest, and his executives range from level 5-6, totaling seven. His second string has its fair share of level 4s. But despite their large size, they are a traditional familia tasked with exploring the dungeon."

He pointed to the last part and put his other hand over his chest.

"Freya. My, what a beauty. She is one of the top three hottest goddesses, without question. I know what you're thinking, and Hera is one. No, I'm not just saying that because she's my wife."

Wanderer stared with a blank expression, and the deity cleared his throat.

"Back on topic, her familia is the strongest. I think in terms of combatants, she is second place behind Ganesha. She has four level 5s, three level 6s, and the only level 7 in the city. That level 7 is a boaz, named Ottar. He isn't just a level 7; he is the peak of one. Granted, Zald and Alfia, in their prime, would be able to take him down, but that still would put him in the top five strongest adventurers. For Freya, she is a goddess of beauty and fertility. I, like many others, adore her. Similar to Hestia, she has her mother-like moments."

Zeus leaned forward, setting the pen down, each row having several bullet points of information regarding the respective familia.

"So, you got all of that?"

"Perhaps the explanations were too poor, but it seems as if the combined strength of the three strongest familias fails to yield a candle to yours or Hera's."

"HA!"

The god began rocking back and forth in his seat, letting laughter take over him as he slapped his knee.

"HAHA! YOU DON'T SAY!"

After what felt like a minute passed, he calmed down.

Phew. "Thanks for noticing. When that damned beast wiped out almost everyone, they thought it best to kick me and Hera out, not being able to deal with repercussions."

"I assume it was devastating for the city. Going to explain that next?"

"I will... another time. For now, yawn; I am tired."

The god lay back in the chair and closed his eyes. Wanderer turned his back and walked off to his room. Upon hearing a door close, Zeus let out a grin.

"You did a good job with the letter Hermes. I just didn't have something as captivating as him beating the Minotaur. But the more he learns, the more he'll understand the significance behind Bell's feats. Only a matter of time."

Two Months Later

Bountiful was a descriptor that failed to characterize the nature of the harvest. It yielded a result neither god nor man could have foreseen, at least to such a level. Not one of the crops failed to grow, an already uncommon result.

Perhaps it was the enrichment of monster blood into the soil, but whatever the reason, it guaranteed two things: Access to food that'll last past Wanderer's departure from the farm and extra work for the man and his eagle.

They could have received assistance from Zeus if they weren't up at the crack of dawn collecting crops. But considering the sole task either did was cooking in Wanderer's case or gathering herbs/spices, the change of pace when it came to labor was appreciated.

Their method for crop collection was Wanderer using the hook of his cane to yank crops up, falling into a bag carried by Ospin behind him. Through the tedium, his mind struggled to answer a question.

"Do I leave or stay a bit longer and see if something comes from his grandson? I'll make my decision later tonight."

Amidst this collection of crops and thoughts, a person walking to the farm caught his attention. The person was an elf, paired with blonde hair and green eyes. He wore a blue hat with a feather and a cape. On his side was a satchel, and on his face a sly smile. But not even the rising sun on his face could hide the suspicious emanating from his body.

"Your business for being here?"

He addressed the elf without deviating from his task or even looking behind him. In turn, this causes the elf to be caught off guard. But when he regained his composure, he was flamboyant with his mannerisms, tipping his hat and placing a hand on his chest simultaneously.

"Oh, me? Ah, I've been tasked to deliver this letter directed to an 'old friend'. Can I presume that to be you?"

"No, that would be the old man. I will give it to him."

Wanderer snapped his finger, and the eagle snatched the letter from the elf's hand. When the elven messenger recognized what happened, Wanderer held the letter. The elf's eyes widened at the display, and he chuckled with a hint of nervousness.

"...hehe. I suppose I'll be on my way."

Wanderer gave no mind to him.

"Stamped with a symbol similar to the way the elf was dressed. Hermes? If this is his symbol, then the elf is a devout follower and member of his familia."

He placed the letter within his robe and turned to his eagle.

"Let us finish this."

By the time the sun left the confines of the horizon, ten bags filled with their respective crops were transported to the house. Each carrying five. Osping held four in his talons and one within his beak. Wanderer held four on both ends of his cane and one in his free hand.

They entered the house and placed the harvest on the kitchen floor. But instead of putting them away, Wanderer sat down at the dinner table, resting his cane against said table, and Ospin joined him. He pulled the letter out from his robe.

"He was going to read it to me anyway."

Opening the letter, his sight fell upon the hieroglyphs.

"Unless he has a scholar or a royal, this is his handwriting, and his name atop confirms that elf is part of his familia."

From Hermes

Bell Cranel has done it again! He did something rather heroic by rescuing a poor renard girl from Ishtar Familia, and she joined his familia. He, too, has become a level 4 in just two months, acquiring the new alias of Rabbit Foot. The feat behind the raise in level has me excited even while writing. He fought and survived the onslaught of an enhanced black minotaur estimated to be around a level 7 by the guild. For perspective, even Loki's executives struggled against it. Due to his level up, his familia has reached rank D and has been given their first expedition. I'll try to keep you posted, but the following letter may take a little longer than usual. My familia will be aiding Loki's in their assault on Knossos. It is a man-made dungeon found in Deaduls Street and used by the Evilus. Take care, Zeus.

Wanderer set the paper down, calculations flowing through his head.

"If I assume a level 3 Cranel is equal to his father, at least in the struggling-to-breathe state thanks to Alfia, and adjust the strength of Zald down to one of their other executives, then..."

Wanderer's eyes widened.

"He survived against something like that? That is-"

"And what are you up to?"

The voice from the grizzled god came from behind him.

"Reading your letter."

"Eh!"

Zeus walked over and snatched it from the table.

"That's an invasion of privacy!"

"Don't act like you weren't going to read it to me."

The god chuckled and shrugged.

"Fair enough."

The deity moved to sit on the seat across from the robed farmhand.

"So, what did Hermes say about my grandson?"

Wanderer's face returned to the expressionless vacuum he presented himself as.

"He has achieved level 4 through surviving the onslaught of a black minotaur said to be about a level 7, and he acquired a new familia member."

"Yeah! That's my boy!"

"Hermes also mentioned a group called Evilus."

The joyful face of Zeus vanished, and a troubled one took its place. His eyebrows furrowed down, and the grin turned into almost a frown.

"They are still around, huh? I guess evil never dies. A concept I'm sure you are too familiar with."

"Was this group part of the consequences of the idiotic endeavor to face it."

"Part?! They were the consequence! As I'm already talking about it, I assume you wish to know about it."

Wanderer crossed his arms.

"Before that, who survived the pitful attempt?"

"Not counting Meteria for obvious reasons, just Zald and Alfia. But it is somewhat funny you ask that?"

"How so?"

Zeus leaned forward, resting his right arm on the table.

"Knowing damn well you've figured it out by now, Meteria has been dead for some time. Delivering Bell was the final toll her body withstood."

Wanderer stayed silent. Words of the woman long gone echoed in his head. But they weren't allowed to propagate.

"Go on."

Zeus nodded.

"Zald's and Alfia's deaths came later. See, under Hera and me, the Evilus were an annoying tick. But with our destruction, a power vacuum was created, and amidst the natural chaos that came with it, the Evilus arose from their filthy alleyways to devastation across the city. It is referred to as the Dark Period. The city became more dangerous than the middle floors of the dungeon. Graveyard upon graveyard was filled. It got terrible enough, in some instances, that there was no choice but to have a fire pit for mass corpse burning. From pregnant women to infants, none were spared in their lust for torment. Aiding this group... were those two. They strengthened the city's adventurers, but the ends didn't justify the means. Not like anything would have..."

"Disregard several warnings and demonstrations, meet the repercussion for not reconsidering, and force the city to go through equal bloodshed."

Wanderer clenched his fist, and the dark mist began to expect the hidden side of his face. His eyes squinted, and his teeth ground against each other. He let out an audible growl and a voice not of his spoke with his own.

"S̶͓̳͙̣̺͈̥͚̈́̀͛͊̂͋̋̒́͛͆̾͘̚͠ͅC̸͓͈͍̰͚̖̟͈̪̼̰̥̒̌̈́͐͜ͅÙ̴̧̢̝̲̖͕̠͉̩͔̝͊̽̉̇͌̀̂͐̿̑̔̋̚M̶̙͓̟̯̥̥̥̫͍̠͜͠."

This sight was enough for the god who could push his buttons to shrink in his chair. Understanding that he didn't want such anger to be directed toward him.

About a minute passed, and the dark midst returned to the left side of his face, with the rest of his body calming. He uncrossed his arms and rested them on his side. Seeing that it was safe to engage in conversation, the god spoke.

"I think the saddest ending is what happened to Astraea Familia. Do you recall about a technicality about the virgin goddesses?"

"Yes."

"Well, Astraea is an example of a virgin goddess but not one of the virgin goddesses."

"Is it a similar fashion as Spirits and Great Spirits?"

Zeus pointed at him, winking.

"Yup."

The god's face returned to his serious expression.

"But past that, I won't describe Astraea since I don't think I can do her justice. Funnily enough, that is what she is the goddess of. One day, her familia got lured into a trap by Rudra Familia. You see, we can sense when the number of blessings we've bestowed is altered. If it is done without us removing it, it means one of our children has been killed. I don't think I could fathom her reaction when it happened. Don't get me wrong, I cared for all of my familia, but when you have such a tight-knit group... it begins hard to imagine that feeling. All but one elf, titled Gale Wind, perished. As a result, she began hunting down all those associated with Evilus; those who partook in the chaos and those who assisted with information. The latter tended to be rogue Guild employees. An 80 million valis bounty was placed on her for her actions, but all records associated with her vanished. I guess they had to condemn her actions in a public space but agreed with what she did."

"..."

Wanderer sat silent for some time, and instead of interrupting, Zeus let the silence take hold of the room. The silence soon ended.

"What she did was not justice, but it was the apt action. I doubt she looks back on it with anything other than disdain, but scum as the Evilus should have one fate: obliteration."

"I'll agree to that."

The god leaned back in his seat and looked at the kitchen, large bags over the floor.

"Are those the crops?" the god asked with surprise seeping into his voice.

"Yes. The harvest was successful, to say the least. Now that you are awake, aid me with placing the crops away."

Zeus rubbed his head and talked under his breath.

Sigh. "That's what I get for not sleeping in."

The god launched up from his seat, full of energy.

"Alright! Let's get to it!"

Wanderer sat there momentarily, observing the god's spontaneous action, arising from his seat moments later. The eagle stayed behind on the table, and both men entered the kitchen. As they began to place crops away in the pantry and various locations, Wanderer sparked a conversation without turning back around to face the deity.

"Old man... describe your grandson to me."

"Oh?"

Zeus paused his progress of placing things away to turn to the back of the robed man. A spark of amazement came over him, and a grin began to establish itself on his face. On the inside, his excitement exploded, but his voice kept calm.

"It sounds like you're taking an interest in my grandson. But to answer your question, do you recall what Alfia and Meteria looked like?"

"Yes."

"Well, he's a slapping image of them, minus the crimson eyes he got from his father. Hence, like those albino rabbits."

"I take it Alfia wasn't too fond of that characteristic."

"HA! That's a - oh shoot."

Zeus's laughter was halted when he began dropping some of the crops he had put away. He clumsily gathered them up while laughing to himself. Once he picked himself and the crops back up, he continued.

"That's an understatement! She wanted to pluck them out, but considering her hatred toward his father and his birth was the last toll Meteria withstood, I wasn't too surprised. But Bell seems to be a late bloomer, considering his growth spurt hadn't begun when he left. Though, now that he is fourteen, maybe he'll get much taller than the 5'4" he is. For his personality, I'm not sure."

"Did you not raise him? What do you mean you're not sure?"

Zeus smiled under his breath as he was reaching for a higher cabinet.

"And here I thought you were smart. You, of all people, should know about how that city can change someone. And typically, not for the best."

"Then describe him as you last knew him."

"Well, he's what you'd expect from a teenage boy, though he falls more on the innocent side despite my teachings."

"You mean your perversion", Wanderer responded in a slight annoyance.

"Well, excuse me for trying to teach- I'm not going to convince you on that point, so I'll move on. He carried his emotions on his face. What else? Hmm... oh, he loved the stories of heroes. Argonaut, Knights of Fianna, and of course, Albert Waldstein."

The god gave a sly smile, looking over his shoulder to see Wanderer flinch at the last statement. Before the robed man could respond, the god was already speaking.

"That reminds me of something he told me. He loved those stories but was dismayed that they never ended in "Happily Ever After", but always something sad. He told me he would get strong enough to have that ending."

"Anything else?"

"Not really."

"I see. He sounds like a simple farmboy who aspires to be something greater than he'll ever be. The sole unique thing about him is that skill of his."

Zeus turned around, confused, as he pulled the letter from his pocket.

"Did Hermes mention a skill?"

"Don't act dumb. The previous record for level 1 to level 2 was a year. He has reached level 4 in four and a half months. The logical conclusion would invoke a quick growth skill. The details will remain unanswerable for now."

Wanderer and Zeus finished placing the crops away, but a hand was placed on his shoulder as the robed man was about to go to his room.

"Not so fast. I've answered your question; I've got one for you."

Zeus walked in front of him.

"A while ago, you mentioned Hope, not as a concept or emotion, but as a person. So, what are you looking for someone to be titled like that?"

"To describe Hope would be like describing a hero. Neither can be broken down to a checklist, even if some requirements are to be met."

Zeus smiled and put his pointer finger on Wanderer's chest.

"To repeat what I told my grandson, a hero isn't someone who takes up a blade, raises his shield, or heals the meek. No. A hero is far beyond. A hero is someone who does that, understanding they are putting their life on the line, hence why most of those stories end on a somber note."

Wanderer whispered to himself.

"No man is worth his salt who is not ready at all times to risk his life for a great cause. For he who is willing to fight for ideals must be willing to perish for them."

"Huh?"

"Wise words... from a man long gone."

Zeus removed his finger from Wanderer's chest and crossed his arms.

"Well, I've always found Albert the best example of a hero."

Zeus leaned forward.

"You know, giving his life to save Orario to drive it away."

The snarky smile continued to flaunt itself before Wanderer.

"I wonder what you think?"

"I think that if you value your physical health, you will cease speaking to me."

Wanderer walked past the god with aggression in his step, grabbing his cane, snapping his finger for Ospin to follow, and went to his room. When the sound of the door was shut, the god's smile expanded.

"I'm almost there..."

Two Months Later

Ospin and Zeus gathered around the dinner table, the latter eagerly awaiting Wanderer to finish cooking.

All obligations from Wanderer were satiated once the harvest was completed. As a result, the days bled together, coming and going without much fanfare between them.

Wanderer spent most of his time reading or being annoyed by the god. If it wasn't for another letter from Hermes detailing the outcome of Hestia Familia's expedition and what came from the Knossos excursion, Wanderer's decision to end his tenure would have occurred.

Regarding the now, Wanderer's cooking was completed, and three plates were placed on the table. It consisted of pork chops due to the large boar still providing cuts of meats, a side of mashed potatoes, and a salad of lettuce, carrots, and onions.

Despite all of the excitement Zeus had to dig in, the choice of a dedicated plate in front of his robed farm hand was strange enough for him to tilt his head, his voice sounding just as surprised.

"Oh? A special occasion where ya going to treat yourself?"

"Special? No. An occasion? Yes. The additional energy would be ideal."

"Ideal in what way?"

Wanderer raised his head from his food to meet the god's eyes.

"You will know soon enough."

"Hehe. Whatever you say."

Zeus shrugged and rolled his eyes. A roar from his stomach made him stop delaying the inevitable. He ate a piece of everything, and amidst his chewing, a smile of pure bliss wafted over him. Swallowing, he pointed his fork to Wanderer.

"I don't care how many times I say this. Heck, I'll say it until even you die. That is some damn good food! So, what race is this from?"

Without averting his eye from his dish, Wanderer answered.

"Dark Elf. From a friend long ago."

"You mean to tell me that this is an Elven recipe?! I never would've-"

"Dark Elf."

The comment caused Wanderer to pause his consumption and continue to speak.

"They do differ. I understand you are referring to having meat as the main part of a meal. That is one of several ways they differ. An aspect they share is their philological reaction to the consumption of meat."

Zeus leaned in, and his curiosity peaked.

"Elves and Dark Elves have a reaction to eating meat?"

"Focused consumption of meat results in their bodies changing. For men, they can either become large or lean with defined muscles. For women, the features that you would perverse on are increased."

"Ha!"

Zeus pointed his finger at Wanderer, a smile that of victory was embedded onto the god.

"You act all so superior to people like me, but when push comes to shove-"

"Stating a fact is not perversion; it is the truth."

Zeus laughed, still wearing the grin as if it was a victory. The three continued eating their food, not a word exchanged. In a weird turn of events, Zeus's constant enjoyment of every bite made him last to finish, with both Wanderer and Ospin clearing their plates at the same time.

The robed man stood up, collecting his and his eagle's plate and announcing a question that erupted the silence.

"Any new letters?"

"Nope. It has been a bit since I read you the last one. Want to read it to yourself?"

"Yes."

The deity reached into his shirt pocket and gave the folded paper to the robed figure. He unfolded it as he walked to the kitchen, placing the two plates into the sink. Grabbing his cane from the kitchen, his return to his seat halted. His head twisted over to Zeus.

"You failed to mention what he helped take down. A Nidhogg..."

Zeus's eyes widened, and he almost choked on his food. He downed some water before looking over at him.

"A Nidhogg! That's..."

"Incredible."

The god's victory smile came over him again, but he was greeted with Wanderer's statement.

"What are you gleaming about now?"

"Oh, nothing... just that your interest in my grandson is growing."

A blank stare like many others faced toward the god.

"Cranel is-"

"You see?! You are referring to him in a way like no one else."

"I refer to him as Cranel, not for respect, the opposite even, but because I believe he will fall like the rest. The name of his lineage, to end with him. But speaking of purpose, why are you so adamant about this?"

Zeus hesitated, seeking if hedging his words was ideal, but his caution was thrown out the window when he stated in the most genuine tone,

"I've figured for a while he could fit the description of Hope."

Wanderer's free hand turned into a fist, the one resting atop the cane had veins pop, and his eyes became as sharp as a dagger.

"It would seem that I've been mistaken. You are not the god of lightning. You are the god of clowns, for who else could say what you have with a straight face."

"I think Bell has what it takes. But seeing him with your own eyes-"

"I have more questions involving Orario's current state."

The desire to leave the topic of his grandson being one of two people that Wanderer seeks was blatant. But seeing as Wanderer would not budge right now, the god sighed.

Sigh. "What do you want to know?"

"When discussing Gale Wind, you mentioned the Guild and a currency called valis."

Zeus finished his plate and leaned back in his chair.

"I'll answer that with a question. Tell me, what were some of the issues the city had during the reign of the mercenaries?"

"..."

The silence persisted for a minute before the god scratched his beard and chuckled.

"Fair point. But what I was going for was how magic stones, monster crystals, were valued. There wasn't a consensus over how they were to be valued; it differed from person to person. Well, come Ouranos, the first one of us gods to descend, he establishes a government to regulate the exchange. The guild is that entity, and the currency like you said, is valis. In context, three hundred covers an expensive meal, a nice home places you back a million, and the highest quality of armament will set you back hundreds of millions."

The dagger stares from earlier softened on Wanderer.

"I thought you were the first?"

"Nope! One of the early ones, though! But talking about Ouranos, it is important to know that while he is behind everything at the guild, he tends to let Royman do the work. He just sits there in his chamber, sending prayers to the dungeon to keep monsters from spilling out. Oh, that's another issue that got fixed up. Anything else you want to know about?"

Wanderer snapped, and Ospin started hovering next to him.

"No."

He began walking to his room when the deity tried to call out to him.

"So when will I learn of the reason you eat more today?!"

"When I have decided."

The robed man entered his room, holding the door for the eagle. Said eagle perched on top of a dresser while Wanderer sat at his desk, the arrow quiver hanging off of it. He opened one of the drawers, taking out a journal. He skimmed through the numerous pages bursting with information but acted as a log first and foremost. It detailed the various locations he has traveled, with several maps drawn on the pages.

He continued flipping pages before arriving at a blank section, say for its title. The title of said section is "Hope". His eyes didn't waver for even a moment, fixating upon the desert of a section. No sounds except for the standard ambiance of the room occurred while his attention became one with the page. Nothing broke his concentration until...

"Is that there part for everyone whom you've given a chance to be Hope?"

His eyes did not leave the page when he responded to the god, leaning against his door frame.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"You left the door open."

Zeus approached the robed man, crossing his arms as he stood beside him, still failing to grasp his eyesight. His attitude morphed into one unfitting for someone deemed a "clown" by Wanderer.

"Believe it or not, despite what I have said regarding your search for her, I find it admirable. What I will insult is your quest to find Hope! You said finding either is of equal priority, but here you are, hearing about the best candidate you've ever heard, considering the empty section. I know damn well you can't judge him from those letters alone. But you could test my grandson at the very least."

"Why..."

Wanderer snapped his head toward the god, his face embezzled with anger, his eye and tone reflecting such.

"Why are you adamant... adamant of having me go to the damned city?!"

"AHA!"

Zeus stroked his beard with a smile basking over him.

"It never has been about testing my grandson. It has been about your hatred towards Orario."

Wanderer clutched his fist. The purple-black mist began leaking out while his visible eye practically yelled in anger.

"You know of my past, and you know damn well why I won't go there. Evil will be forever linked to that city, and no matter how many times it is squashed, it will never die. It will only fester until it becomes large enough to blot out the sun and give the world one last sunrise..."

"You're right, I do know. Just like how we both know the good that came and still comes from that city. Just like how we both know that you staring at the empty section is because you were contemplating if my grandson is worthy of your time and the heinous memories. And just like how we both know you ate more food than usual because you were planning on leaving."

Wanderer stood up from his seat, looking down at the god, who stood a good few inches shorter than he. The mist of malice was still present, but an anger that cooled.

"How did you-"

"HAHA! I'm a pervert, but I am quite clever. Besides, it's not like you eat for the taste. That said, I have a favor to ask you.

The smug impression on Zeus's face vanished.

"Sleep on it. We both know I can't get you to do anything you don't want to. But at least sleep before you make your decision. Come sunrise, meet me outside. If you don't wish to go to Orario, I'll thank you for everything you've done, and you'll be on your way. If you decide to go, I have something for you."

Wanderer looked over at his journal, the mist vanishing along with his anger toward the god.

"Fine. Now get out."

"Sure you don't need help packing?"

"Out."

The god snickered before turning about-face and leaving the room. Not before he a mouthed a thank you to Wanderer.

Hearing the confirming click of his door shut, he opened one of the massive sacks brought with him and placed a few hundred texts obtained through his travels.

Completing that, he reached into his dark robe. Pulling out a black satchel. Constructed from leather and had a gold finish to it. Opening one of the dresser drawers, he filled several potches with potions of varying purpose and intensity, leaving one packed with empty vials. In the main pocket, he placed his journal and several pens inside.

He hung the satchel around the chair. He rested his cane against the wall and placed the duel short swords on the desk, still in their respective scabbards. He pulled out the mini dagger from his arm, placing it near his other weaponry. A snap rang out for the eagle to turn off the lamp, but it stared at Wanderer, who turned to him.

"We both know my stance won't be altered."

The eagle stared at him as if he knew something Wanderer didn't, but soon did what was expected. The luminosity in the room declined as the robed man lay in the bed, drifting into a state of neither awake nor asleep.

A small feminine voice screamed out, trying to pierce the deafening sounds from all around. Her cry was as loud as a young girl herself could make.

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!"

Wanderer watched this display from afar, repeating the line he would think to himself.

"Every time... every...time."

His eagerness to avoid resting past what is required is this. A twisted parasol of events. A mockery of failure. A reminder of everything crumbling down. No matter what he would say or did, nothing would alter. A cursed fabrication bound to repeat itself ad infinitum upon him entering this state.

Yet, it was preferred over the alternative. If the mistake of falling into a being of complete slumber was made, a mock version of a shortened event didn't occur. What did occur was the complete retelling of events. He would not be placed as an outsider watching events unfold, but he would relieve everything from start to finish. The pain never ceases; it only compounds. That was the fate awaiting him in complete slumber.

But even the merciful one did its tax on him. He watched as his former self stood before malice-given form. Before the destroyer of all. Before the embodiment of the end. Standing behind him was the little girl crying out to him.

Tears ran down her face, plotting her dress more than any stains from the dirt. A mixture of blood from the air and herself tainted her being. Her hands were cut, her feet grew popping blisters, and a force was forcing her back. But nothing could prevent her from tugging on his leg and looking up screaming.

"PLEASE! NOT YOU TOO! I'LL HAVE NO ONE LEFT!"

For the last time he could remember his voice having any emotion aside from anger, he spoke without looking at her. His face was the last time it was nothing but a blank canvas or unyielding rage.

"You ...must..."

A tear built up in his left eye. Accepting the action he was about to commit.

"Live."

He pushed the small girl back, sending her down a pit and leaving her tear marks on his hand. Any cry she made fell on deaf ears as he charged toward the darkness and basked in it.

The little girl reached for a hand that never appeared, descending deeper into the chasm. Her wails bouncing from the wall, echoing back into her ears.

Watching her fall, unable to do anything in the dream, Wanderer closed his eyes.

"The same. It will always end the sam-"

The mental statement broke when someone ran by him, launching himself down the pit after her. He soon caught up to her, reaching out and grabbing her hand. Stabbing the wall, he slowed their descent before launching them both out of it. The undetailed savoir held her hand as the wounds and marks began to break away.

His focus turned to the darkness incarnate, but he was stopped by her grabbing his hand. No longer was she the young crying girl desperate not to be left alone. No... now, she had a striking resemblance to her mother. They shared a nod and together walked toward the end. This version of the dream was but the second time it occurred. Wanderer commented as his eye widened.

"Hope..."

But for the first time, Hope had details filled in. His hair became white, and his eyes crimson.

Wanderer snapped his eyes open, staring at the ceiling of his room. Peering to his left revealed the blissful rays of sunshine presenting themselves on the horizon. He placed his right hand on his head.

"Well, I'll be damned..."

Getting out of bed and snapping his fingers, he addressed the eagle without glancing over.

"Take everything to the front."

Opening the window where light found its entry point, the eagle soon began transporting the three bags out of the room, carrying two between its talons and one in his beak.

Wanderer closed the window and rearmed himself. He placed the mini dagger on the inside of his right arm, the two "short swords" inside his robe, and the arrow quiver beneath it, hanging from his left. Just as he was about to attach his satchel to himself and have it hang from his right, he paused. Words of the deity resonated in his head.

"The last toll..."

He soon pulled out his journal, taking a blank page from it. He sat at the desk; no sooner had he sat when he started writing words on the page. He folded it and placed it in the satchel along with his journal.

He pulled out a golden pocket watch from his desk, ordained with black metal and a silver chain. It attached to his pants and was placed inside his pocket.

Grabbing his cane, he gave one last look at the room that resembled a home for the longest time since he became who he was.

"This was... pleasant."

He exits the room and walks through the house, ending up on the front deck with Zeus, Ospin, and his belongings waiting for him. The god had his arms crossed and the most genuine smile he had ever presented thus far. The sun bounced off his face in a way that complemented his skin. His voice mimicked his appearance with the question.

"So... what will it be?"

"I... will be heading to Orario."

The god's smile expanded as he looked down.

"Then let me give you this."

Zeus moved out of the way of a large bag and tossed it to Wanderer, who caught it with his left.

"That's around 12 million valis. I considered giving it to Bell as an inheritance, but that much money for someone overly trusting as him wouldn't last long. And unless something regarding my exile changes, I won't need it any longer. Just try not to spend it all in one place!"

"I thought you said the guild exchanges monster crystals for the currency. Couldn't I just-"

"They do... for adventurers. Seeing as you wouldn't dare become subservient to any deity, you can't become one. But hey, maybe Ouranos could make an exception for you. All things considered, I would. But seeing as you aren't prone to bringing up your past, perhaps something else would be needed. As for now, it's best to keep any magic stones for powering things."

"I see."

Wanderer moved over and placed the large bag in one of the three sacks. Standing back up, he spoke to the deity while looking at him.

"I won't go easy on him. Every matter of testing will be conducted. I will ensure that he is up to the standards I hold. If he breaks beforehand, I will not feel an ounce of guilt."

"I know my grandson. I know he'll rise to any expectation you have. Otherwise, I wouldn't have Hermes write those letters for you."

"For...me?"

Zeus recognized his verbal slip-up too late. His eyes popped, his jaw dropped, and his mouth was covered by his hands. Wanderer turned around, heating the air around him. He walked closer to look down upon the god.

"You coordinated with him to fabricate an aura of mystery while providing enough details of his accomplishments but enough to where I couldn't make a distinction without testing him."

Zeus turned red, and a giggle seeped through his hand. A few seconds later, he burst into laughter.

"HAHAHA! YOU CAUGHT ME! And don't even bother trying to say that you won't go now that you found me out."

"..."

Wanderer tossed one of the sacks over his shoulder, and Ospin picked up the other two between his talons. Both started to make their way down the path to leave the farm. No words were exchanged... until Zeus ran after them.

"W-Wait! There's one more thing I have to ask of you!"

"After that stunt, why would I?

"Because it will cost you no time! Just hear me out!"

He halted his march, and the eagle hovered in place. Neither looked at the god.

"Speak."

"Hermes has been taking a while to write back to me. I'd appreciate it if you could figure out why. You can do it after you test my grandson. Sound reasonable?"

Wanderer raised his pointer finger.

"On one condition. Answer me this, was Meteria buried or turned to ash?"

"She... she was buried."

Wanderer tossed the bag to Ospin, who caught it in his beak. He reached into his robe, pulling out the folded paper and a white flower with thorns on the stem that fully blossomed despite being secluded in his possession. Both were handed to the deity.

"Ensure that both are placed atop her grave."

Zeus nodded with a confused furrow of his eyebrows.

"If you don't mind me asking, what does the letter say."

"Quote 'I may not have known you for long, but I did know enough to understand that you would be another victim of this cruel world, taken far too soon. From our short interaction, I learned the world could not appreciate the loss of your passing. I despise your sister and think the man you chose is less than ideal. But you have a trait I have struggled to utilize in my entire existence. To see the good in those others may mock or hate. To look past flaws and bring the qualities out. But most importantly, you have confirmed my greatest suspicion. There will be but a few things that will rival the willpower of a mother wanting to give birth to her child. Now, I will see if that child has inherited even a portion of that power. May your soul be at peace, Meteria. Sighed by'-"

"Your name. Your actual name."

Wanderer peered over to the god from the corner of his eye.

"For something like that, it is only proper to look past my hatred of my name."

The god accompanied Wanderer and Ospin to the edge of the farm. As the two beings passed through the gate, Wanderer turned to the deity, looking him in the eye.

"Goodbye... and thank you."

"Take care, Wanderer."

The god leaned against the fence post, watching them disappear into the horizon. He looked at the letter and flower in his hand as they were.

"I'll have to ask Richard to help me with this."

When he looked back up, they were gone. But something strange occurred. The wholesome smile twisted into a grin. He started to snicker before laughing to himself. He began laughing hard enough for his belly to hurt and needing to brace it with his arm. Tears of laughter began to form, and he spoke aloud as he wiped them away.

"HAHAHA! OH MAN, THAT WORKED ALMOST TOO WELL!"

He coughed several times, still wiping tears from his eyes.

"The classic diversion tactic! You'll find more than Hope over there! Haha!"

His laughter echoed through the farm.

Orario was a full-day trek from the farm, and while Wanderer could shorten that time a considerable amount, he opted not to. He chooses to walk, as he has for the many other locations he traversed.

Any route that was not direct was avoided, regardless of terrain. He observed the sun begin its rise and fall throughout the course of this journey.

Reaching a particular mountain range, he climbed it, leaping up massive parts of it. Having reached the highest point in the range, he and his eagle looked over the city larger than kingdoms. At its center, the massive tower pierced the sky. The sun had already lowered itself past the horizon, and the wind blew Wanderer's hood, showing a silver eye lit with a fire. His hand clenched.

"After all this time... I'm back."