A sweet, intoxicating aroma filled his sensitive nose, as if spring itself had drifted toward him. It was a fruity, fresh, evocative scent that slowly awakened his senses. His nose twitched slightly as his heavy eyelids began to part.
The first thing he saw was the face of a beautiful girl, unadorned and serene, illuminated by a tranquil expression. Her hand slid gently through his hair, each movement as soft as a passing breeze. Her golden eyes, though devoid of luster, carried a depth that seemed to hide an entire universe.
Her long blonde hair fell in soft cascades over her face, allowing timid rays of light to filter through the strands, wrapping the scene in a delicate glow.
For a moment, everything seemed to stop. It was an angelic sight, so perfect it filled him with an unexpected calm, as if time itself had surrendered to the image before him.
The white-haired boy instantly recognized the lap on which he rested. Without a second thought, he rolled backward in a quick, agile but clumsy move, standing upright in a flurry of motion. His cheeks flushed a deep pink, a charming contrast to the crimson red of his eyes, which now shone with a mix of nervousness and embarrassment.
The girl before him pouted slightly, her lips pressing together as her fists clenched—not in sadness, but in something closer to irritation. "Why does he always run away…?" she thought fleetingly, her gaze darting to the side. Though her tone was more direct than she'd intended, it was a brief frustration-fueled thought, not something she'd planned to voice.
In a corner of her mind, Mini-Aiz appeared suddenly, arms crossed with an exaggerated scowl, stomping like a petulant child. Her golden hair bounced with each step as she pointed accusingly at Bell, her expression plainly saying: "You're so dense!"
Aiz blinked, momentarily confused as her subconscious reinforced the question that had just slipped from her lips.
Bell, on the other hand, was frozen in place, his ears drooping as his tail swayed nervously from side to side. "E-Eh? Well… I…" He tried to respond, but his thoughts were an utter mess.
"Am I… scary?" The question left Aiz's lips before she could stop it, her tone more straightforward than she'd intended. In her mind, Mini-Aiz clapped her hands over her face as if she'd made a catastrophic mistake, staring at her older self with wide, worried eyes.
"Eh? Of course not!" Bell nearly shouted, the words spilling out before he could think. "Aiz-san is a beautif—!" He slapped both hands over his mouth instantly, his gaze snapping skyward as if searching for a way to rewind time.
In her mind, Mini-Aiz let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, hugging a miniature version of her sword like a plush toy. Aiz felt a faint warmth rise to her cheeks but dismissed it quickly. She was used to receiving compliments, but the earnest tone of Bell's words, free of ulterior motives, made them resonate in an unexpected way.
With a faint smile—so fleeting it barely seemed real—she turned her eyes back to him. "That doesn't explain why you ran from my lap."
"Huh?! W-Well… doesn't it bother you?" Bell stammered, visibly more flustered now.
Aiz tilted her head gently, as if reflecting. "It felt warm, and your hair is… fluffy."
Bell's ears drooped along with his head, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. "I'm not fluffy…"
"I made him feel bad…" Aiz thought briefly. "That wasn't my intention, but even so, answer me." She wasn't about to let this chance slip away.
"It's not that it bothers me…" Bell paused, swallowing hard. "It's just… I get embarrassed when you do it while I'm awake."
"So, it doesn't bother you when you're unconscious?"
"No?" he replied, tilting his head in genuine confusion.
For a moment, a mischievous smile tugged at Aiz's lips, though it vanished quickly. In her mind, Mini-Aiz gave her older self a playful nudge, her eyes glinting with a conspiratorial gleam.
"On guard" Aiz suddenly declared, lunging toward Bell like a bolt of lightning.
"W-Wait—AGH!"
The days flew by. Each lesson Aiz shared with Bell, he absorbed it like a sponge, mastering it within minutes.
This both surprised and delighted her. At first, she didn't understand why Finn had chosen to delegate the task to her instead of taking it on himself. After all, in the eyes of the Familia's high-ranking executives, Bell was a key piece for the future.
But those thoughts faded from her mind like mist under the sun every time she saw him train. Bell didn't just listen—he responded with equal dedication, displaying a hunger for improvement that both puzzled and inspired her.
Of course, he was still far from being a match for Aiz. Even with her holding back, he couldn't be considered a threat. But for a Level 1 adventurer to be able to dodge, block, and even counterattack a first-class adventurer was undeniably impressive.
By the third day of training, nearly midday, the echoes of clashing blades rang out along the walls. Each impact sent sparks flying, briefly illuminating the surroundings like miniature fireworks. But the duel didn't stop; if Bell had one defining trait, it was his sheer determination.
The boy wielded his dagger and light sword with surprising skill, alternating between dodging and deflecting Aiz's rapid attacks. The blonde, in turn, gradually increased her pace, pushing him to his limits.
Though she wasn't using Desperate, her reliable sword, even the sheath she carried was heavy and blunt enough to hurt on impact.
A slash aimed at his shoulder was blocked with a swift movement of his dagger. Bell felt the impact vibrate through his arm but didn't back down.
The next attack—a kick toward his ribs—he narrowly avoided by bending backward at the last second.
Bell's movements mirrored Aiz's: agile and fluid, but with an instinctive edge. His style was a blend of newly learned techniques and a natural intuition that seemed to guide his every move. Aiz, observing this, couldn't help but nod slightly to herself before stepping things up.
With a quick burst of speed, she launched a kick toward the boy's leg. Anticipating the attack, Bell lowered his body to block it and tried to catch her leg with his arms. But Aiz, always a step ahead, swiftly retreated and used her weapon's sheath to strike his stomach with force.
The air rushed out of Bell's lungs as he fell to the ground, pain reverberating through his body. Even so, his eyes widened as he realized Aiz hadn't stopped.
"The enemy won't stop just because you cry" She said, lowering the sheath to strike the ground where he had fallen.
Bell rolled to the side just in time, his movements losing their grace under the weight of the pain. Aiz watched as he struggled to get up, her golden eyes studying him intently.
It was fascinating. His progress was abnormal, almost unnatural. How could he be growing so quickly? Aiz found herself pondering the question as she resumed her combat stance.
Bell straightened, panting but with eyes burning with determination. This boy… he wasn't normal, and that intrigued her more than she was willing to admit.
But that feeling of admiration quickly turned into concern.
Every adventurer Aiz had ever known, even the youngest, carried some sort of ambition or selfish desire. They faced life with intense emotions: hatred, rage, pride…
Bell, on the other hand, did not. His purity was bewildering. He lacked the selfishness of a typical adventurer, and his excitement in battle didn't stem from a desire to destroy or win for the sake of glory. It came from something more genuine. He was thrilled like a child discovering something new, with the innocent arrogance of someone eager to show off a freshly learned trick.
It was as if his soul remained untouched, bright and clear, free from the shadows Aiz saw in the eyes of every other adventurer.
Bell didn't belong to this cruel and dangerous world. No. In Aiz's eyes, he should be somewhere peaceful, a remote village where he could live surrounded by love and tranquility.
However, that thought vanished as she realized something essential: though he lacked selfish ambition, Bell had a deep desire, a goal. He didn't seek fame or riches. He didn't crave recognition. What he wanted was… to be a hero.
A childish dream. Naive. And yet, so… so rare.
"Bell…"
"Yes, Aiz?" the boy replied between bites of a steak. Sauce dripped from the corner of his lips, forming a small stain on his right cheek. Aiz let out an almost imperceptible sigh before leaning in with a handkerchief to clean it—a gesture that came instinctively.
The sudden contact made Bell choke on his food, coughing loudly as his cheeks turned a deep red. His tail stiffened, and his ears stood straight up. "W-What are you doing?!"
Aiz tilted her head, puzzled by his reaction. Beside Bell, Mini-Aiz made an "X" gesture with her arms, blushing just as much as him. But for Aiz, the action had felt natural. That's how her mother cared for her when she was a child, wasn't it?
"Why are you growing so quickly?" she asked, returning to the question that truly intrigued her.
"Me...? Do you think it's unnatural?"
"I haven't seen your status, but… you learn far too quickly."
Bell averted his gaze, his Lycan ears tilting slightly backward in discomfort. "Ah… well, at first, I just had an immature dream, you know… to be a hero," he said quietly.
Aiz leaned toward him, close enough for the young Lycan to feel her presence. "What did you say?"
Bell swallowed hard. With a mix of embarrassment and determination, he raised his voice: "I want to be a hero! But that dream was crushed so many times…" His words faltered, and his gaze turned skyward as if seeking answers among the clouds. "My race is known for being fierce in battle. Even Level 1s are often accepted into prominent Familias just for their potential. But I was nothing more than a pup…"
His tail swayed slowly from side to side as he spoke, reflecting the mix of emotions that stirred within him. "When I first saw you… when you left Loki-sama alone… I knew it was worth risking my life to save her. Although, to be honest, I was scared. I wanted to go home. I wanted to farm the land and live a quiet life. But then she gave me Falna." Bell smiled, his eyes shining with an emotion impossible to contain. "My favorite goddess from the old tales gave me Falna! She inspired me… so much."
Aiz listened intently, though she couldn't help but think of Loki with a hint of exasperation. Inspirational? Loki? Even so, she didn't interrupt. The emotion in Bell's voice was contagious, and seeing him so happy stirred an unexpected warmth in her chest.
"I want to make her proud. I want to stand before the Familia's high-ranking members one day, not just to protect the newcomers, but because… I want to be a hero. That desire, which I thought was buried, was revived by Loki-sama. But also by you, Aiz."
The swordswoman's golden eyes widened. "By me?"
"I don't want to feel that shame again" Bell admitted, the blush returning strongly to his cheeks. His words caught in his throat, and the boy hesitated for several seconds, silent. "What kind of hero gets rescued over and over by the princess?" His light laughter filled the air, innocent and sincere, entirely different from the nervousness from before. It was nothing more, nothing less than a joke about Aiz's nickname.
But… for Aiz, those words weren't a simple joke. Something in Bell's tone pulled her to a distant place in her memory, to a forgotten time. For a moment, she felt as though a younger version of herself was watching her, with a mischievous smile and hopeful eyes.
The swordswoman placed a hand on her chest, where the rhythm of her heart had subtly changed. She stood up with determination. "In that case, let's train." Her voice was firm, but her expression held an unusual warmth.
Bell noticed the transformation in her face and nodded, rising with renewed energy. "Please, teach me."
"Wah, Aiz-pu sure was excited today, huh?" Loki, as mischievous as ever, cast a teasing glance at the white-haired boy who had just stepped through the door. He had dark circles under his eyes, a split lip, and several bruises on his arms and legs. Without his armor—which wouldn't be ready until tomorrow—he had managed to get through the final day of training as best as he could.
Bell let out a nervous laugh, though his expression quickly shifted. "Well... you learn faster by taking hits, right?" he tried to joke before clutching his stomach. "Ow, ow..." His words trailed off into a pained sigh. His tail, which normally wagged energetically from side to side, was stiff today, reflecting his physical exhaustion.
The atmosphere in the room was surprisingly subdued. Loki hadn't touched a drop of wine—a fact so unusual that Bell noticed it immediately. Without the characteristic woody aroma mixed with the sweetness of grape wine, the air seemed… calmer.
"And why are you so serious today, Goddess?" Bell asked as he took a seat in a chair, as had become customary. Throughout the week, he had visited Loki's room to update his status after training with Aiz.
Loki sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "Haah… You noticed? Well, since you're Level 1, no one told you, but the Familia is going on an expedition tomorrow. By order of the Guild. A hassle, don't you think?" Her tone carried an unusual tinge, almost melancholic. "They have to reach a specific floor. And, you know, it's terrifying to think about your children venturing into the unknown… not knowing if they'll ever come back alive."
Bell looked at her, surprised by the change in tone. Loki, usually eccentric and playful, was speaking with a seriousness he had never seen before.
"I see…" he murmured, before adding, with perhaps poorly calculated sincerity: "You know, the Familia all think of you as a drunk perver–" He bit his tongue mid-sentence, realizing what he was saying.
"Thank you, Bell. If you'd kept going, I don't know if my poor heart could've taken it…" Loki placed a hand dramatically on her forehead, feigning heartbreak with an exaggeratedly woeful expression.
Bell burst into laughter, though the movement made his stomach ache again. "Ow…" he groaned, trying to compose himself. "Maybe I should take things more seriously…
"But I don't think that" He said suddenly, with unexpected sincerity. "I think you're a wonderful goddess. Even though you have your favorites, you always look out for everyone's safety."
Loki raised an eyebrow, amused by the sudden compliment. "Hey, hey, don't go saying things like that to a woman. Who knows if someday my cute little wolf might end up getting devoured by some wicked woman?"
"H-Hey! That has nothing to do with this!" Bell exclaimed, blushing furiously.
"Joo? Do you think I haven't noticed how some girls look at you when you help them? Quite the charmer. I thought I had an innocent pup, but it turns out—"
"D-Don't say things like that!" Bell nearly shouted, cutting her off as he covered her mouth with both hands.
Loki didn't say anything, but her response was immediate: she licked Bell's hand, making the young Lycan yelp and pull back.
"Ew! Why did you do that?" he protested, wiping his hand on his pants as Loki laughed heartily.
"Don't underestimate this goddess, you cheeky pup. Anyway, you came to update your status, didn't you?"
Bell nodded, though he couldn't shake a strange feeling. There was a peculiar warmth in the room. With every breath he exhaled, the air seemed to form faint clouds of vapor, as if something invisible filled the space with energy. Loki, ever perceptive, noticed immediately but said nothing. She only smiled with her characteristic mischief.
To Bell, that smile meant nothing more than his goddess being… his goddess.
"Alright, you know what to do," Loki added, gesturing toward the bed.
The boy nodded, taking off his shirt before lying down. As usual, his back lit up with a soft blue glow as Loki performed the procedure. This time, however, it was faster than usual.
"Hmm…" Loki murmured as her fingers drummed lightly on the edge of the bed. "I've made a decision. I won't show you your status today."
"Huh? Why not?" Bell sat up, looking at Loki with a mix of surprise and confusion. This was the seventh time, in this week.
"I'm tired today" She replied with a carefree shrug. "Why don't you go to sleep too? The others will leave early, and in the afternoon, it's the Monsterphilia."
"Monsterphilia? Didn't they just hold it a few weeks ago?"
"Yes, but the Guild insisted on repeating it. The city needs to regain confidence, and the Silverback incident… wasn't the only thing."
Bell nodded slowly, processing the information. "But who will accompany you if everyone's going to the Dungeon?"
"Obviously, you!" Loki pointed at him, barely containing her laughter as she saw his confused expression. "If I can't show off the prettiest member of my Familia, I'll have to take the second place, right?"
Bell blinked, lost between the joke and the compliment. Loki, unable to hold back, burst out laughing.
"Anyway… go to sleep" She finally ordered, waving a hand as if dismissing him.
Resigned, Bell gave a small bow and left the room. Despite his exhaustion, a smile crossed his face. To him, Loki would always be Loki.
The night passed quickly, and the morning even more so. At Loki's request, Bell wore clothes different from his usual attire.
It was a simple outfit: a long-sleeved black shirt, cargo pants, and casual-style long boots. The fabric felt soft and comfortable, but it also hinted at a level of quality Bell wasn't accustomed to wearing. Despite its simplicity, the outfit unexpectedly accentuated his figure, something Loki was quick to point out with a mischievous smile.
"You really bring out how cute you are, Wolfy," she had said in her characteristic teasing tone. But Bell had only rolled his eyes with a very evident blush, assuming it was just another of his goddess's jokes.
Now they stood in front of the imposing Tower of Babel under a clear sky. Around them, the main forces of the Loki Familia were preparing to delve into the Dungeon. The ranks were perfectly organized, and the atmosphere was solemn, almost electric.
Finn's speech, as always, was a spectacle. His words, full of emotion and promises, resonated in the hearts of the adventurers, eliciting smiles and murmurs of approval. Even Bell couldn't help but feel inspired, imagining himself someday in the place of the Familia's captain, giving words of encouragement to others.
His gaze briefly met Aiz's. Though the moment was fleeting, they exchanged a faint smile, a silent connection that needed no words. Then, the Sword Princess turned toward the stairs leading to the Dungeon, disappearing into the darkness along with the rest of the group.
"Sad to be left behind? Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep you company," said Loki, nudging the Lycan gently with her elbow in an attempt to cheer him up.
The day was sunny, with perfect weather—neither too hot nor too cold. The streets of Orario, with their characteristic hustle and bustle, were beginning to come alive once more. Food stalls, fairs, and events were scattered everywhere, even attracting tourists who had come to enjoy the Monsterphilia.
Bell sighed, shifting his gaze toward the horizon. "Well… I'd like to go with them, but I know I'm too weak." There was a hint of frustration in his voice, but also determination.
Loki glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, smiling a little more softly this time. "With how fast you're growing, I'm sure it'll be soon, Wolfy." Then her tone shifted to one Bell knew all too well. "Anyway! Let's go. I want to check out a few stalls. I heard there's a new red-haired girl with some big–"
"Please, goddess, don't say any more." Bell cut her off, placing a hand on his forehead, already resigned.
Loki burst into laughter as they began to walk through the crowd. For her, it was just another day. For Bell, every step was a reminder of how far he was from reaching his goal—but also of how much he had already achieved.
"Ottar." The voice of a woman resonated softly, carrying a seductive yet imperious tone.
Standing beside a broad window, Freya gazed at the streets of Orario, bathed in the warm light of midday. The city was alive with activity; Monsterphilia had drawn in locals and tourists alike, filling the air with murmurs of excitement and anticipation.
Her dazzling figure seemed to shine with the same brilliance as the day. She wore a white dress that accentuated the perfection of her skin, and in her hand, she held a glass of wine, which she swirled slowly, almost hypnotically.
"Yes, my lady?" responded a deep voice instantly. Behind her stood an imposing man, Ottar. With his towering physique and unshakable presence, he inclined his head slightly, his tone laced with absolute respect.
"The time has come. Have Ganesha's children captured anything interesting?" Freya asked, her gaze still fixed on the bustling city, a faint smile gracing her lips.
"Yes." Ottar confirmed gravely. "A Minotaur. It appears to be an irregular. According to reports, its strength is enough to challenge an advanced level-2 adventurer."
"An irregular, you say?" Freya let out a low chuckle, both alluring and dangerous. At last, she shifted her gaze from the cityscape, turning to face Ottar. Her silver eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm that bordered on obsessive.
"Perfect," she murmured, reaching for a cloak that she draped elegantly over her shoulders, the fabric cascading smoothly.
"It seems another god has plans for today..." she continued as she moved toward the exit, her tone as nonchalant as it was calculated. "Though that doesn't matter. As long as they don't interfere with my little spectacle, they can play all they want."
Freya turned to Ottar, her eyes alight with an almost ethereal fervor. "Make sure no adventurers approach the area where it will all unfold. I want to see it... I want to see that soul burn, shining brighter than ever before."
Ottar nodded firmly, his steps echoing in tandem with his goddess's as they left the room. Both moved unhurriedly toward the stage Freya had orchestrated beneath the radiant daylight.
"Umh… goddess, I've noticed something weird." Bell commented, a mix of shyness and curiosity in his voice, while holding a blue popsicle.
Although it was technically his, Loki seemed determined to claim it, taking small bites every time she had the chance. Bell, for his part, didn't dare to try it after the goddess left clear marks of her "attacks" on it.
"Hmm? What's up?" Loki replied, speaking with her mouth full of another bite she'd taken from a nearby stall.
"Well... my mouth." Bell paused, looking at the ground. "It feels like... smoke is coming out. And every time it happens, I feel kind of cold and tired. Haven't you noticed that I haven't sweated at all, even with this heat?"
Loki made an exaggerated gesture of disinterest, turning her gaze away while continuing to enjoy the popsicle. "It must be your imagination, Bell. I'm sure you're obsessing over nonsense."
Bell tilted his head, not entirely convinced, but he didn't want to press the matter. "Yeah, maybe..." he murmured, scratching the back of his head. His attention returned to the ice cream he was holding.
"Anyway, goddess, aren't you embarrassed? You're famous, and people are watching you do this!" Bell pointed at the popsicle while Loki took another bold bite, a mischievous smile radiating from her face.
"Embarrassed? I do this all the time with Aiz. Although, of course, that stubborn girl never shares a single one of those damn potatoes when I ask for some." Loki said with a mocking dramatism, as if it were the greatest tragedy of her life.
Bell couldn't help but let out a soft laugh at the mental image of Loki fighting with Aiz over a handful of fried potatoes. The goddess glanced at him sideways, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
"What are you laughing at, Wolfy?"
"Nothing, nothing." Bell replied, waving a hand while trying to suppress a wider smile.
"The main event starts in an hour. Do you want to go see it?" Loki asked with fake innocence, though her mischievous eyes already betrayed she had something in mind.
"Sure." Bell said, though his attention returned to the popsicle in his hand. He stared at it, noticing how, despite the heat, it didn't seem to be melting at all. A thought crossed his mind, and he looked up at Loki.
"Goddess, do I have cold hands?"
Loki let out a light laugh, brushing it off with a carefree gesture. "Nah, stop imagining things."
"I guess so..." Bell sighed, but he couldn't shake the unease that lingered.
Loki, however, knew exactly what was happening. And that's exactly why she had decided not to show him his status. Not yet.
Loki's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a nearby explosion. A blast without fire, only rubble flew, followed by piercing screams. A body was sent flying through the air, crashing into a wall just a few meters away from them.
Bell reacted instinctively, positioning himself in front of his goddess with his rapier in one hand and his dagger in the other.
But his bravery faltered for a moment. His legs trembled as he recognized what stood before him.
A damn Minotaur.
This wasn't just any minotaur. It was even taller and more robust than the one that had nearly killed him in the past. Its body was covered in deep scars, as if it had survived countless battles, and it wore crude armor that protected part of its torso and face. In one hand, it held a two-handed axe with a blade that gleamed with a sinister shine; in the other, the lifeless body of a low-ranking adventurer.
Bell felt a knot form in his stomach. Another accident... but that was impossible. The security for Monsterphilia had been reinforced to the extreme since the previous incident. What the hell had happened this time?
The minotaur let out a deafening roar, making the air around it tremble. Its bloodshot eyes locked onto Bell, and its massive body began charging with overwhelming force.
"Loki-sama, get back!" Bell pushed the goddess toward a nearby alley, never taking his eyes off the creature.
The impact was brutal. Bell managed to raise his sword in time, and the blade took the full force of the minotaur's horn. The shock of the impact traveled through his arm like an electric jolt, forcing him to stagger backward several meters while struggling to maintain his balance. He silently thanked the quality of the sword, which had withstood the blow without breaking.
"Thank you, Aiz..." he thought as he landed after an improvised roll. Without the swordswoman's tough training, his arm would likely have given way under the force of the attack.
But there was no time for gratitude.
Bell's breathing was erratic, nervous, almost bordering on panic. He could feel his chest rising and falling quickly, while the air he exhaled turned into small clouds of cold vapor. His body, colder than ever, still wasn't responding fully.
This time, it was different. There was no one to save him. There was no Aiz to appear out of nowhere, no strong companions to intervene. This time, he had to save others.
The streets were in complete chaos. The terrified crowd was fleeing in every direction, stumbling over each other in their desperate attempts to escape. The few who seemed like adventurers stood frozen, some gravely injured, others already lifeless. The scene was desolate.
The minotaur roared again, making the ground tremble beneath its feet as it marched toward him with firm, brutal steps.
Bell gritted his teeth, his eyes wide open as he tried to ignore the tremor in his hands. Fear was taking over, but he couldn't afford to give in. His mind filled with a single thought.
Protect.
His body, almost instinctively, took a defensive stance. Not because of confidence in his skill, but because he knew it was the only thing he could do. He knew he had a duty to fulfill, even if fear wanted to paralyze him.
"I can't fail."
Sparks flew in all directions, briefly illuminating the scene, while small threads of blood dripped to the ground, marking the violent rhythm of the battle. Each clash resonated like an echo through the collapsed streets, accompanied by the muffled groans of a young man struggling to stay on his feet.
Bell did everything he could to dodge, to counterattack, but the difference in power was overwhelming.
Each blow forced him to retreat. Every mistake, no matter how small, resulted in a new cut on his skin, leaving a trail of burning pain that added to the exhaustion of his body.
A metallic flash preceded the next exchange. Bell deflected a downward strike from the minotaur with his rapier, twisting his wrist to redirect the creature's massive force downward. Taking advantage of the opening, he launched a quick slash at the monster's abdomen with his dagger.
The blade stopped dead.
The minotaur's skin was as hard as stone.
Before Bell could react, a side kick hit him with devastating force against his ribs. The blow sent him flying several meters back, slamming him into the ground. Bell rolled instinctively, gasping as he placed a hand on his side.
The pain was unbearable, as if a searing iron had pierced his chest, but at least his bones seemed intact. For now.
He didn't have time to assess his condition further. The minotaur charged again, raising its enormous axe and striking the ground where Bell had been. The impact shattered the pavement, sending a cloud of dust and rock fragments into the air.
Bell rolled to the side just in time, the blade barely grazing his hair. Using the debris curtain as cover, he lunged with a thrust aimed at the beast's leg tendon.
The result was discouraging.
His sword clashed against what seemed like a granite wall, bouncing off with only a superficial scratch. Bell quickly retreated, but the minotaur, roaring in frustration, charged again.
The creature's arm moved with unexpected speed, hitting him in the side before he could react. Bell felt the air escape his lungs just before the world blurred. Then, the pain. A sharp, piercing pain in his abdomen.
The minotaur had impaled him with one of its horns.
The burning sensation spread like wildfire inside him, mixing with an unbearable pressure. A gut-wrenching scream escaped his lips as the monster lifted him and threw him mercilessly against a nearby wall.
The impact was devastating. His body hit the ground like a ragdoll, barely conscious. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and his vision grew blurry, but Bell refused to give up.
The minotaur let out a triumphant roar, as if it enjoyed mocking its helpless opponent.
No... not yet.
With trembling hands and labored breathing, Bell reached out for his rapier, now covered in dust and blood. His fingers found the hilt, and he gripped it with all the strength he had left. His body was on the verge of collapse, but his mind clung to a single thought: survive.
That's when he felt it.
A flash of energy coursed through his body, as if his blood had been replaced by liquid fire. The agony diminished slightly, replaced by a surge of determination and rage.
Vilja Einherjar.
The ability that had betrayed him so many times finally responded to his call. Dopamine hit his system like a lightning bolt, revitalizing his senses. A spark of hope blossomed within him.
Bell stumbled to his feet, his body still cold, but his mind clearer than ever.
"This time, I won't fall..." Bell murmured, gripping his rapier firmly. The words weren't just a passing thought; they were a promise. A statement directed at himself, engraved deep within his soul.
Before him, the minotaur watched. Its heavy breathing and the flashes of its crimson eyes through the armor seemed to mock the young man who was still standing. It was as if the beast understood it had the advantage, but enjoyed prolonging the inevitable conclusion.
Bell took a deep breath, trying to control the tremors in his legs. His thoughts raced frantically, analyzing every detail of the fight. It was stronger in every sense. In sheer strength, there was no comparison, and in endurance, the creature was an impenetrable wall.
"But in speed… we are equal."
That single fact was enough.
A sharp burn ran across his back. The Falna etched into his skin blazed with an intense heat, as if his entire body were a canvas on which divine will was being sculpted.
Warmth. A power that didn't fully belong to him.
It was the proof that he wasn't alone. Loki was watching him. From the shadows of the battle, his goddess believed in him, expected him to triumph. That simple truth kept him standing.
Bell swallowed hard. Around him, the ruined buildings blocked escape routes, and the screams of the helpless crowd weighed on his ears like a cruel reminder: he was all that was left.
There were no reinforcements. No adventurer would come to his aid. Each clash of weapons and distant roar was proof that everyone was fighting their own battles.
Desperation tried to creep into his chest, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't afford that luxury.
In a corner, Loki watched him, her lips pressed tight, her trembling fingers clutching her cloak. Her heart beat furiously, fueled by a mix of rage and helplessness. Another accident. Another damn disaster. Why always him?
Fury boiled in her blood, but then she felt it. A deep connection, almost tangible.
Bell's Falna burned brightly, projecting an energy that seemed to envelop even Loki herself. Her expression softened. In that moment, she understood something crucial: He wasn't going to give up.
"I hope you take advantage of the gift I gave you, Bell." The goddess murmured to herself as she watched him take a step forward, exhaling cold smoke that contrasted with the burning heat of his spirit.
Bell moved toward the side of the street, his movements calculated. The tense muscles in his body weren't born of doubt, but of preparation. The minotaur roared and charged at him, its fury like a storm unleashed.
The Lycan planted himself.
With a fluid movement, he raised his blue-handled rapier. His stance, precise and firm, reflected the countless hours he had spent under Aiz's guidance. The foundation of his training, his only shield against what was coming.
He assumed the position he had memorized through repetition, the same one he had always admired in his teacher.
"This… this is the only thing that will keep me alive" He thought, and his eyes sparkled with renewed determination.
The minotaur's roar filled the air. Bell, silently, waited.
The impact came swiftly.
The metallic clash between the minotaur's axe and Bell's sword resonated through the street like thunder, echoing through the ruins. The civilians, trapped in desperation, stopped fleeing for a moment, watching the young man with a mixture of fear and hope. Some, unable to escape due to the rubble, closed their eyes and placed their faith in the young warrior.
Bell deflected the axe with a precise twist of his sword, redirecting its force toward the ground. The beast's blade sank into the stone with a crack, and the boy seized the moment to attack.
With fierce agility, he drove his dagger into the monster's snout. The weapon barely penetrated the thick skin, but it was enough to make the minotaur roar in pain. The creature dropped its weapon, using both hands in a desperate attempt to grab Bell.
Bell reacted instantly. Leaving the dagger embedded, he used the monster's own force to propel himself backward with a swift leap. He landed gracefully and, without wasting time, lunged forward once more, switching his rapier from hand to hand in mid-motion.
In a bold move, he took the beast's heavy axe with one hand and raised it to block its next attack. The impact resonated with a thunderous crash, eliciting a pained growl from the creature as its own strength turned against it.
Bell released the axe and spun, launching a vertical cut toward the minotaur's arm. The blade cut through skin, fur, and muscle, but not enough to penetrate entirely. Despite the blood dripping, the wound only made the creature angrier.
The minotaur roared in frustration and stomped the ground with a foot, destabilizing Bell. The boy tried to maintain his balance, but the smoke and dust that rose temporarily blinded him.
It was all the beast needed.
With a terrifying roar, the minotaur charged at Bell with the force of a battering ram, driving one of its horns into his side.
Bell felt a searing pain as the horn pierced his flesh, tearing through muscle and skin "Not again...!" He though while a wrenching scream tore from his lips, echoing like a tragic cry through the ruins. Blood poured from the wound, staining his clothes and the ground as the beast lifted him as though he weighed nothing.
The world blurred for Bell. His vision clouded by the tears caused by the pain, but he forced himself to stay conscious.
With the little control he had, he dug his nails into the minotaur's horn and used his leg to push himself, trying to free his blood-soaked body. Every movement was agony.
Finally, he broke free, collapsing to the ground like a broken ragdoll. His body trembled, his breath ragged, but he couldn't stop.
"You can do it, onii-chan!"
A child's voice pierced the chaos. Bell raised his eyes, meeting the gaze of a small boy holding his little sister. Both were covered in dust, small cuts marking their faces.
"I can't fail!"
The cold coursing through his body intensified. A layer of frost began to form over his skin, thin as crystal, but enough to give him a sense of invulnerability.
When the minotaur's horn pierced his right hand in another charge, the pain was unbearable. Flesh split open, and blood flowed relentlessly, leaving a trail of red with every step. But Bell did not yield.
With one foot behind the beast's, he channeled all his strength into a single move. His fangs involuntarily bared, veins pulsed intensely beneath his skin, and his eyes gleamed with a reddish hue, bright and fierce.
The ground beneath Bell began to crack.
The minotaur roared, surprised, and tried to resist. Its large, heavy legs sank into the debris of the street, and the creature began to regain control, pushing the boy back.
The civilians watched in disbelief. Bell, a young boy of average height and fragile appearance, was matching the strength of a beast that far outclassed him in size and power.
And then, they started cheering.
Shouts of encouragement and hope filled the air, like a chorus that fueled Bell's determination.
From a distance, Loki watched. A proud smile spread across her face.
"That's my boy."
Bell, with his own roar, freed his hand from the minotaur's horn, leaving behind a trail of shattered ice. He took his sword with both hands and raised it in a decisive movement, delivering a diagonal slash from the beast's shoulder to its hip.
The blade sank deep, ripping a torrent of blood that painted the ground red.
The minotaur staggered back, roaring in pain, but it didn't fall. It struck the ground with both hands, raising dust and debris in one last burst of fury.
Bell gasped, his chest on the verge of collapsing. His body trembled from the exertion, but his eyes never left the enemy. He knew the battle was far from over.
The wound on Bell's forehead froze slightly, blocking the flow of blood that had once stained his face. The cold seeped into every fiber of his being; the ice covering his skin seemed as if it might tear him apart, but at the same time, it protected him from imminent collapse.
"So that's why Goddess hid my status from me?" he thought, between gasps and the pain that tore through his body. An ironic smile curled his lips. "Of course, it had to be her... always so mischievous."
Finally, after so long wishing for it, Bell felt it: magic.
The icy flow coursing through his body was a gift, a weapon born from his will and his bond with his goddess. The frost forming on his skin spread to his sword, turning its once gleaming blade into one covered in ice, adorned with snowflakes that seemed to crystallize in motion. Despite its new appearance, the weapon felt even sharper, as if the cold enhanced its destructive power.
Bell gripped the sword tightly and assumed a familiar stance.
Aiz's stance.
The simple act of mimicking his teacher gave him back some strength. But it went beyond that—he felt his body grow stronger and faster.
Smoke escaped his lips with a deep sigh, creating a frozen mist that covered the ground beneath his feet. His body continued to bleed, and the ice coating his skin had changed from a frosty blue almost white to a reddish hue, stained by the blood soaking him.
His legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment. His vision blurred, and each breath was a titanic effort. But Bell did not yield. He couldn't.
From a corner of the street, Loki watched him with a mixture of concern and pride. The bond between them burned brighter than ever, and the goddess could feel the desperate yet powerful pulse of her now beloved child soul.
Before him, the minotaur took up its enormous axe again, though its movements seemed slower. Even that fearsome creature was beginning to succumb to fatigue, and Bell knew this was his chance.
Bell tensed his body, ignoring the pain burning through his veins, and pointed his sword toward the enemy. Around him, the air grew even colder, almost cutting, and the street fell into a tense silence, broken only by the gasps of both combatants.
This time, he would take the offensive.
Hey, the truth is that I got a little too inspired for this chapter, I think. There might be some things that could be improved or small mistakes and repetitions, but well, I hope you like it. Writing so much and consistently as a beginner is quite difficult. I wish you all a good day or night! By the way, about the reviews... I decided not to include them in this chapter, but just know that I read every one of them and they really brighten my day.