A Waning Silence

by JL Davenport

She was meant to leave and to die causing destruction throughout Orario. But instead, Alfia, the Maiden of Silence, found herself captivated by the young child her sister had left behind in this world. And so, Bell grew up with one extra guardian, and the ripples from that small change will change his story a great deal. Bell/Harem.

15. Chapter 15

Is It Wrong To Form A Party?

---

Author's Note: Well, I started this around Christmas, intending it to be out in January, and I promised myself it wasn't gonna get to be another 30k monster… and here we are in March with it being just a hair under 30k words. Haha, I'm not sure if that's a success or not, it's bigger than I anticipated and took longer than I wanted, but I think it's a fun chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy it!

Anyway, as always with FFN: Please remember that FFN automatically opts you out of Email alerts every 6months. So, if you want to be updated about this, please go to your profile and opt back in to refresh that timer.

And, since it's been a while,

As a quick recap: We're currently just after the point where he levelled up after beating the two Minotaur on the 9th floor. While he was having a celebration party with Ryu and Syr, he was told he needed to find new companions and build proper 3man party before heading to the middle floors. While mulling over that, he ended up getting ambushed by Chloe, which wound up with Syr dragging both of them away to the pub's backroom… Some time after that, Alfia confronted Freya about her having used the Denatus to get Bell the title "Vanadis Odr", and in reply, Freya promised to send Alfia and Bell "a token of her goodwill". The next morning, Bell went to take Syr on a date (and was met by Cassandra on the way), where he was surprised to find himself introduced to Hörn, who Syr claimed was her sister.

---

Hörn, loyal attendant to the Divine Freya, stared at the man standing in place before her. Bell Cranel. Odr.
The name embroidered upon her Goddess's bedsheets.

She looked at the hand being held, politely, out towards her.

And silently, imperceptibly, with her face still twisted up in a mask of disdain… she suppressed a nervous tremble running down her spine.

She didn't hate this man, not truly.

She hated what he did to her, she hated the feelings he caused that washed through her from the bond she had with Lady Freya, and she hated the way Freya's obsession with him left her playing as Syr more and more than ever.
But she loved how happy he made the woman that meant everything to her, she loved the way he touched her, caressed her, she loved the way her Goddess's heart burst with delight each time she saw him.

Hörn felt every one of those emotions right to her core, she shared in and revelled in every one of them. And so, no matter the natural disgust she felt towards any man that laid his hands upon Freya, no matter the jealousy she bore towards anyone that monopolised her Goddess's affections, she couldn't truly begrudge this man.

Bell Cranel made her Goddess happy. And so, he made Hörn happy, too.

Unfortunately… he also made her Goddess cum so hard that Hörn was left passed out in a daze… that was where the attendant's feelings became a lot more complicated!

This was, of course, hardly the first time Hörn had dealt with a man Lady Freya had slept with. Before Bell Cranel had arrived in Orario, sex had been a natural part of the Freya's life and dealing with those that shared her bed was an inevitable part of Hörn's role as attendant, an awkward but bearable part of her duties and a small unpleasantness amongst the absolute wonder she felt through the connection she shared with the deity she revered so fervently.

But this was different! With him it was different!

Whenever any other man or woman had been graced with an invitation to Freya's bed, all Hörn had felt was a dull and distant sense of warmth, a whimsical amusement that passed long before the night had.

But with him! With this man! That warmth was like a blazing inferno, an incredible pyre that felt hot enough to burn the world down and sear itself across her soul!
And the feelings that surrounded her, rather than whimsical enjoyment, was a tsunami of lust, of love, of affection, of possessiveness, or desire, of delight and a million other sensations all so vivid and so intense that Hörn's previously closed world had been shaken completely open!

When her Goddess lay with this man, not only could Hörn feel every bit of the love Freya felt for him, she could feel every bit of his love for her!

Even when she wasn't using her Seidr! Even when she wasn't mimicking Freya's form! Her mind's eye filled with the sight that Freya saw, and her body was wracked with the sensations that throbbed through the Goddess!

She had felt his breath upon her, she had drunk deep both from his kindness and his strength, and she had drowned herself fully in his desire. She had kissed him and been kissed by him, she had held him and been held by him, she had ridden him and been ridden by him, she had moaned and thrashed and cried, and came so hard that her voice had screamed itself hoarse.

The sensations Freya felt towards this man were so intense that it was as if every one of them had been carved across Hörn's soul.

And worse, unlike any man that had come before him, unlike any other man in existence… Bell Cranel had sex not with Freya, but with Syr. With the body and the self that had once belonged to Hörn.
Bell Cranel had taken Syr's virginity, and Hörn had felt every moment of it.

No matter how much Hörn wanted to deny it, no matter how much she desired to turn away from it, or how much it rankled her, there was absolutely no denying the connection that lay between her and this Odr.

He was the mortal that Freya loved more than any other, the unworthy man who monopolised a Goddess's affection and wrapped Hörn's entire world up in a storm of furious jealousy.
He was the mortal that made Freya happier than any other, the kindhearted man whose gentle love and adoring care left Hörn's heart thumping giddily in her chest.

What a terrible man he was indeed.

And, until this moment, he was a terrible man that had only existed in her Goddess's gushing stories and in the visions she'd seen through Freya's eyes.

That had been more than enough for her, she'd never intended to actually meet him.

If her Goddess desired him killed, others could do it far better than Hörn.
If her Goddess desired him in her bed, she would have no need of Hörn's presence.

She was her Goddess's attendant, Nameless, barely even an adventurer, that was all she'd ever desired.

But, Lady Freya was as impulsive as she was beautiful, and so here she was… thrust before the only mortal in the world that had ever made Hörn's cheeks flush with the Command that she would be joining his party to go into the Dungeon with him.

The idea of leaving her role at Freya's side to instead go risk life and limb in the dank darkness of Orario's labyrinth, all for the sake of Bell Cranel, didn't have even a shred of appeal to it. But it was her Goddess's will, so she obeyed without objection.

Even so, Hörn didn't take the hand he was holding out to her.

Rather, she didn't dare take it.

She was standing face to face with a man she'd previously only seen looking adoringly down upon her, being offered the same hand she could so vividly remember being wrapped around her waist, and being introduced to a name that was so familiar to her it would have fallen from her lips with a loving sigh, if the very thought of that didn't make her skin crawl.

It was challenging enough just standing in his presence and keeping her thoughts under control. If she made contact with him at all, she had absolutely no idea how her body would react. The idea that his touch might leave her flushed with the same excitement she'd felt thrumming through Lady Freya -the idea that she might find herself aroused by someone besides her Goddess- was as terrifying as it was repulsive.

Hörn didn't dare test herself.

'It's unfair how handsome he is…'

Nothing about that was a surprise, all the men that surrounded Lady Freya were handsome. Physical beauty was the bare minimum requirement to catch even a moment of her Goddess's attention. Hörn had been surrounded by the most handsome men in the world for years now, she was utterly immune to their charms (and of course, they had no interest in hers).

But Bell Cranel, Odr, was different.

Until now, she'd only seen him through Freya's eyes, and now she was looking at him through her own, and somehow the difference that made was stark beyond belief.

Snowy white hair, loose and fluffy. As soft as any woman's that flowed through her fingers like virgin snow.
Brilliant shining rubellite, red eyes. So captivating and so enthralling she wanted to carve them out and hide them away in the depths of a temple, saving the Gods and the mortals from their sinful allure.
A shy and awkward smile. A pitiful and unrestrained face, utterly unbecoming for an Adventurer, without pride or guile, open and earnest as if telling her he would accept her.
A lingering sense of manliness. Surrounding all his softness and his gentle features was hard muscle and strength enough to push her down, to hold her in place and make her feel safe, secure, wanted.

It wasn't fair at all! She'd met a thousand men more powerful, a hundred men more handsome, a dozen men more cute… But it was only Bell Cranel that lingered upon her mind like this! It was unfair! It was humiliating! It was maddening!

Even without touching him, even just tracing her eyes up and down, along his body, Hörn forced herself to silence the (wonderful) memories that threatened to arise, and she could feel a shameful spark of heat flaring to life between her thighs. Thankfully, the eternal devotion of a true fanatic kept her safe, and that threatening heat was immediately snuffed out with an icy-cold fury.

And so, Hörn stood stiffly in place, making sure her face was sneering to ensure it wasn't accidentally smiling.

At length, she forced herself to speak.

"Bell Cranel… By command of Lady Freya, I have been sent to join your battle party."

"Eh!?"
"Ahehe, isn't this great, Bell-kun? You've got your third member!"

---

Bell stumbled backwards in shock, his thoughts spinning so wildly that for a moment, he thought he might have misheard. But, the eager way Syr was looking at him, while holding her hands up towards Hörn, as if presenting her to him, made it clear he hadn't made a mistake.

Just what in the world was going on today!?

First he'd run into that strange, beautiful blue-haired girl who'd called him over and started singing a lullaby he hadn't heard since his childhood, a song he'd never mentioned to anyone and she couldn't possibly have known.
Then he'd been told she was apparently an Oracle, able to see the future… but only about a happy everyday life where she and him were friends.
Next, right when he'd been wanting to invite that girl into his team, she'd been ambushed and dragged away by an equally beautiful red-head, exiting his life as abruptly as she'd entered it.
And then, while he'd still been trying to wrap his mind around all that, he'd been surprised to find that Syr had brought another woman along on what was supposed to be their date.
He'd been informed that this woman, who had not stopped glaring icy-cold murder towards him this entire time, was Syr's sister, someone she hadn't mentioned even a single time until today!
And now, before he'd even been able to fully process the surprise of suddenly meeting his girlfriend's family, he was told that Hörn was joining his party!?

Just this morning, he'd been tied up in knots wondering how to deal with Ryu's advice, that it was vital to recruit a third member before he and Lilli descended to the middle levels. Just a few minutes ago he'd been stressing himself out with guilt, worrying that his date plan with Syr wasn't particularly well thought out, or particularly romantic. It was as if anytime he tried to focus on something rational and reasonable, he was being ambushed with something utterly unprecedented, completely out of left field.

Hörn was going to be his teammate from now on..?

"Why is this being decided for me!?"

"Silence!" the woman in question bristled, "You have no right to object! Just shut your mouth! This was a command from the Goddess Fr-"

"Hörn. I already told you, don't be mean to Bell-kun! Geez… I want you two to get along, okay?" Syr's voice was as gentle as ever, but it was sterner than Bell had ever heard and it left absolutely no room for argument, her sister instantly bit back anything she'd had left to say, offering simply a conciliatory nod instead, "And Bell-kun, nothing's been decided for you. If you're not comfortable with this, you can say no."

Unable to bear the sight of his girlfriend's upturned eyes, Bell looked away, suddenly feeling utterly childish.

He knew he wasn't the smartest man in Orario, but he wasn't stupid either, it didn't take much thought to figure out what had happened. Syr was with him last night when Ryu's advice had been offered, she had even argued the case for his two-man party against the experienced Elven Adventurer. While he'd been wracking his brain, lost in thought about how he should go about trying to find another party member, she'd already taken action. Once again, Syr had gone well out of her way for his sake. And, once again, a small pit in Bell's stomach opened up with his worry that he wasn't anywhere near as good to her as she was to him.

"S-Sorry, I was just surprised…" He quickly apologised, forcing himself to meet her gaze straight on.

"I know, and I know I shouldn't meddle too much in your adventures. I just… I worry about you all the time, Bell-kun, and I wanted to help you... And, I was hoping you could help me, too."

He blinked, but his heart practically leapt at the chance, "Help you?" Syr was so utterly capable, it felt like he'd barely been able to assist her with anything at all.

"Of course, Hörn's my beloved sister, you know? And she's a Level Two Adventurer, just the same as you… but she doesn't go into the Dungeon very often, so she doesn't have a party of her own, which means I'm always left worrying about her and if she's safe anytime she leaves…"

Ah. Bell nodded, he could understand that. His Goddess had talked about that herself, how much she worried about him while he was going into the Dungeon all by himself. Even Alfia was the same, she wasn't very fond of Lilli after everything that'd happened, but she'd told him privately that she found it a relief to know he had someone watching his back at least.

"Well, of course, Hörn isn't as terrifyingly reckless as you though…"

Syr's usually warm eyes turned cold for a moment, and despite being about the same height as him, Bell got the distinct impression she was looking down upon him from far above.

"She would never run into the Dungeon in the middle of the night, without any items or even any armour."
"Aha…haha…"
"She wouldn't go racing into the Dungeon in a fit of excitement either, blasting magic left and right until she was ready to pass out on her feet."
"Um… Well, that is to say…"
"And she definitely wouldn't throw herself into a fight against two Minotaur, after I specifically told her to run away from that kind of dangerous situation, and instead get herself beaten into such a bloody, battered mess that I thought my heart was going to break!"
"Syr…"

A shudder ran down Bell's spine, but the chill in his girlfriend's gaze passed as quickly as it had appeared and her warm nature returned.

"I can't fight, so I can't do anything to protect you, or help you when you're in danger… but… but I thought, like this, the man I love and my precious sister… I thought she could look after you, and you could keep her safe."

He swallowed, accepting her words. As was so often the case, when Syr put her mind to something, it was very difficult to disagree with her.
Rather, if anything, he found himself swelling up with pride that she was able to even entrust someone as important as her own sister to him.

"Is, er… I mean, is Hörn-san okay with this?"

She still hadn't stopped glaring at him, after all. He found it a little scary just looking over at her direction, it felt like the chill in her gaze would freeze the flesh from his bones.

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Syr laughed happily, clapping her hands as she turned around to throw a devastatingly cute wink towards her sister, "She was the one who asked Lady Freya for permission to join you!"

"Eh!?"

Two sets of eyes shot wide at that revelation, but Bell was so focussed on Syr he didn't notice Hörn's own surprise.

"Mhmm! She kept hearing me going on and on about how worried I was for you, and so she offered to come help. Lady Freya thought it was a marvellous idea, and so here we are!"

Boggling at this unexpected development, Bell turned to look at the other silver-haired woman.

Hörn's furious composure had broken, but instead of looking pleased, or shy, about any of this, she seemed to be in a state of furious non-composure!

Her flawlessly beautiful features were twisted up in a scowl even more ferocious than before, but her cheeks were flaming red, her breath was coming in haggard pants and she was twisting awkwardly in place, clenching and unclenching her hands from where they were balled up into fists at her side.

He had absolutely no idea what to make of it. Had she really requested to join his party? She certainly didn't seem to be showing any signs of wanting to be around him, much less protect him… but she hadn't argued with anything Syr had said, in fact she hadn't said anything at all, she was simply holding herself in place, glaring straight ahead.

Actually, Bell added to himself, as he stared in shock at the Nameless attendant's flushed cheeks, she wasn't even directing her fury his way anymore, rather she didn't seem to want to meet his gaze at all.

It made sense, he supposed. Or a strange kind of sense, at least. No matter how fond Freya might be of Syr, she was still just a waitress at a bar the Goddess liked. It was hard to imagine the deity considered 'The Empress of Orario' would simply send one of her children to join a complete stranger's battle party at Syr's request. Not unless that was what Hörn also wanted.

Watching as the pieces clicked together in his mind, Syr gave another spirited laugh, "You understand, right? Hörn's just a little shy. You know, she hasn't even met any of my other friends at the bar. You're the first one I've introduced her to."

Nodding, Bell sighed, mentally comparing the other woman's aggressively cold attitude against her apparently sincere desires to help both him and her sister. Calling her 'a little shy' didn't seem to be doing her justice.

'She must be one of those women with 'a difficult personality' my Goddess mentioned.'

For some reason, he was reminded of a certain Elf from the Loki Familia he'd met briefly while on a date with Filvis.

Regardless of anything else, Bell knew he could only be grateful. Being Level Two herself, Hörn must be an experienced Adventurer, and seeing as it was Syr that was entrusting her to him, she must be someone reliable and responsible, not like the Adventurer's Ryu had so roundly rejected the previous night. He needed a third party-member, and, difficult personality or not, if keeping her sister safe would pay Syr back -even just a little- for all she'd done for him, he couldn't be happier.

And so, mind made up, Bell shook away the last of his concerns, turning to both women with the most encouraging smile he could manage. Syr bounced on her feet, smiling back just as brightly in return, while Hörn, looking like the very picture of a woman steeling herself to simply endure this conversation until it was over, continued to avoid his gaze… yet even so, he didn't miss the way her cheeks glowed a little redder just the same.

Definitely a difficult personality, this woman.

"Then, if- if you're both okay with it… Hörn-san, I'd be grateful to have you join my party."

"Unsightly fool! I neither desire, nor welcome your gratitude!" apparently set off by his words, the ashen-haired attendant's composure finally broke and she spun around towards him once more. Her beautiful face was twisted up into an expression of absolute ice-cold fury, and her uncovered pitch-black eye shone with a dark glare, as if to freeze him to his bones, "Rather, it disgusts me that you even offer it. If you do not have the wits to even understand when your attention is unwanted, then at least have the decency to stay silent and keep from inflicting yourself upon others."

"Gh!?"

"Such revolting arrogance! Hideous. Even just standing around you it feels as if the very air is being polluted by your shamelessness. Are you truly so proud of yourself that you think I desire this!? That I would leave my Ladyship's side to rush to yours!? Revolting! Even the Gods are not so conceited! You have already been informed that it is Lady Freya's will that I join your battle party. That is the end of the discussion, there is no need for us to talk further, and yet you stand there, disgracing me with your presence, prattling on as if your opinion could possibly countermand hers, as if you had some decision to make at all. Disgusting! Disgusting! Disgusting! Unrepentant filth! Spare me your gratitude and direct it to Lady Freya, direct it to Syr-sama, and then fall to your knees in apology! Ten years of penance wou-"

"Hörn."

Syr's voice wasn't cold, but neither was it warm, and her one single word put an end to her sister's tirade. The attendant lowered her head.

"Rest assured, Syr-sama, all shall be as you desire. I will ensure his safety if it costs me my life."

And with that, without waiting for another word and certainly not waiting for any kind of approval from him, Hörn turned on her heel and walked off, disappearing around a corner.

"Haa…" the remaining silver-haired woman gave a deep sigh, shaking her head with a wry smile, "Sorry, Bell-kun, she means well… but she can be a little much at times, hehe. I'll be counting on you to keep her safe too, okay?"

With his jaw hanging open and his head still spinning from the unexpected avalanche of insults, it took him several more seconds to even process what he'd been told, much less try respond.

Having grown up with only Alfia and his grandfather for company, in a village so small you couldn't even find it on a map, until he'd come to Orario, Bell had only rarely met any women about his age, and even more rarely had any kind of meaningful conversation with them. Thanks to the efforts of Hestia and Syr, and even Chloe's harassment, he was starting to get a lot better at dealing with the opposite sex than he had been…

…But his Goddess and girlfriend were both overflowing with kindness, and the Black Cat's affection was at least flattering. As a young man, and as a gentle soul, Bell was absolutely unprepared to have been so thoroughly and coldly eviscerated by someone he'd only just met!

"Means well..? Um… S-Syr… Are you sure… Er, hey, Hörn-san really did ask for this, r-right?"

He had been confident in his previous conclusion, and he didn't think his girlfriend would lie to him, but… In her own gentle and considerate way, Syr did have a way of talking people around to doing what she wanted them to do.

Walking around and taking his arm, the waitress pulled him close, warming his frozen body with the heat of her affection, "Bell-kun, she said all that about being inflicted with your presence, and how there was no need to even discuss anything, but she didn't leave until you'd already invited her. I think she was really happy that you accepted her like that… I know I was."

As always, Syr was just as adept at soothing him as she was at riling him up. Bell nodded.
Perhaps he should just see this as more training for getting better at dealing with women? The path to being worthy of all the love he'd received seemed long indeed, maybe having a woman bearing such open hostility towards him would give a different perspective.

"And also… Don't look now, but-"
"Yeah."

He already knew what she was about to say.

Ever since he'd come to Orario, Bell had become attuned to the sensation of someone's eyes upon him, a heated, possessive, oppressive gaze that followed him obsessively around the city. And, because of that, he'd become extremely aware of the eyes of others on him.

Which meant he was currently extremely aware that -despite having stalked off and disappeared around a corner- Hörn was currently peeking out at him from behind a vendor stall. Far away in the distance, with her silver-grey hair only just barely visible above the shop's counter, the attendant's eyes were boring powerfully into him.

Despite his girlfriend being such a normal, well-adjusted girl, her sister was a surprisingly strange woman. A difficult personality indeed.

"Well then!" clasping his hand in her own, and entwining his fingers with hers, Syr beamed happily and began pulling him gently away in the other direction, "Shall we go?"

Matching her smile with his own, Bell walked in step with her. As he did, he forcefully pushed away all thoughts of the bizarre encounters that had made up his morning so far, he would have time to worry about them later, for now he wanted to only focus on her! Although, of course, that thought brought a shocking realisation!

"O-Oh, a-ah, S-Syr, sorry! I never got a chance to say, um, er, you look amazing today!"

After hearing about his underwhelming dates with Filvis and Eina, Alfia had drilled that into him, a strict and unbreakable imperative to always compliment a girl's appearance when she got dressed up for him. Although, in this case, the embarrassing words came a lot easier than normal because they were also his own honest feelings.

Lightly made up, with just a hint of blush and eyeshadow, wearing her hair hanging loose down her back instead of the usual ponytail, she looked utterly adorable. And, with her waitress uniform traded in for a light, blue summer dress that offered him both a tantalising view up her bare legs and captivating display of her soft curves, every bit of Syr's innocent charm radiated for all to see. No matter how untrained Bell's eyes were for anything unfashionable, with his advanced Status, he couldn't possibly miss the way her clothes hung perfectly on her slender body; the outfit was clearly hand tailored just for her, and the material looked to be of the kind of quality he'd only seen in Alfia's treasured dresses.

Clearly, his girlfriend had gone to great lengths for this date.

"A-Ah, Bell-kun! Mou… You're embarrassing me… but… but thank you."

Which only served to remind him of his own lack of preparation.

"An-And, ah… S-Sorry, I, I know this isn't… this isn't a very romantic way to spend time to-"

"Geez!" slapping his shoulder lightly, she interrupted his guilty admission instantly, "What're you talking about? You invited me out, in front of the whole bar, you even stood up to Mama Mia to spend time with me, Bell-kun, I was over the moon! I barely slept last night, thinking about you.

"It doesn't matter what we do. Whether we go shopping together, or just walk around together, or even do nothing at all, I'm happy just to be with you," she squeezed his hand with her own, and another dazzling smile stole his breath away, "And, I'm happy you wanted to be with me too."

His heart thumped and his steps became lighter.
Once again, he was struck with the feeling that his girlfriend was far too good for him. And once again, he was filled with the resolve to become a man worthy of the love she so regularly enveloped him in.

"I love you, Syr."

"A-Ah! G-Geez!" her feet missed a step, but his strength easily held her up and they kept walking, hand in hand, "Just saying that so suddenly, right in the middle of everyone! Haaa, I, I've gone completely red, haven't I? You're becoming really bold, Bell-kun!"

Of course, her counterattack landed only a few moments later. Sliding towards him and leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked, Syr turned her lips up towards his ear, whispering just loud enough for him alone to hear.

"I truly do want you and Hörn to become friends… but, I wouldn't mind if you became more than that. Hehe, you know, I really enjoy making meals for you, Bell-kun… perhaps I'll offer you a sister sandwich one day?"

"Ghah!?"

This time it was his feet that missed a step, and -of course- there was no way Syr could have held him up. Instead, she simply, kindly, lovingly, held his hand as Bell skidded to the ground with a yelp.

Looking up at her mischievous smile as he picked himself up, Bell couldn't help but wonder if it was okay for him to keep getting manipulated by her like this.

…

Watching this lover's farce from where she was (mostly) hidden behind a vendor's stall a few dozen meders away, Hörn chewed angrily on her thumb.

That awfully warm, shamelessly pure, foolishly gentle smile of his that she'd only previously experienced through her Goddess's eyes had been a thousand times worse in person!

Seeing him through her own eyes meant she was evaluating him with her own eyes, it meant everything she saw and thought and felt were all her own honest thoughts, not second-hand feelings echoing through the bond with her Goddess.
And, in turn, it meant that she was being evaluated by him.

It meant that the smile he'd offered had not been for Syr, or for Freya, it had been for Hörn alone.

'Disgusting! Unfair! Disgraceful! It must be a cruel trick of the fates… He's a beast! A rabbit-like omen of desire sent to tempt and ruin both Goddesses and mortals alike!'

That way he'd looked at her, the way he'd accepted her, the way he'd invited her to join him… it made her so angry that just thinking about it left her cheeks flushed red and sent her heart pounding in her chest! Even now, even with the warmth and joy of Syr's simple happiness flowing through their bond, she couldn't calm down!

There was no doubt about it, Bell Cranel was a terrible, unsightly, unreasonable, selfish wretch of a man.

But he made her Goddess happy. She understood that in a way nobody else in the world could imagine.
And so, he made her happy too.

Ensuring her scowl was fixed properly upon her face, Hörn watched as the pair walked off into the distance.

And, on her way back to Babel Tower, she sent in an anonymous vote for Bell Cranel in the "Smiles you want to wake up to" category of the informal Adventurer Rankings.
Just to save Freya from having to do so.

---

Despite his day getting off to such an ominously strange start, Bell's date with Syr was surprisingly normal. And despite Lilli's dire warning, as they leisurely wended their way through Orario, the only bags he wound up carrying for her were for a new pair of shoes, a few bottles of perfumes, and some dubious looking culinary ingredients she wanted to experiment with.

Walking hand in hand, they made light conversation, she pointed out the sights of Dungeon City to him, and they passed a pleasant morning in each other's company.

Bell knew from his Grandfather's advice that it was dangerous to get complacent about romantic endeavours, but as they slowly worked their way through all the items on his checklist, and as he let Syr pull him this way and that through whatever stores caught her eye, his misgivings about the dull nature of the date slowly faded.

In the end, it was exactly as she'd said, he was perfectly happy just spending time with her. And, from the way she smiled at him, from the way she laughed lightly at his stories and from the way her fingers entwined with his, he hoped the same was true for her too.

And so, bit by bit, the items he'd lost in the Dungeon were slowly replenished and his wallet was slowly depleted.

Luckily, while he'd been recovering, Lilli had traded in the Minotaur's stones. From what she'd told him afterwards, even the trading clerk had been surprised at the purity of them. One stone had been far grander than the other, but both were worth far more than a normal Minotaur, and they'd earned almost 100,000 valis from that alone.

It wasn't particularly surprising to learn they'd been something special, they had been far from their usual floors and one of them had been wielding a weapon, everything about those Minotaur had been strange, but at least the strangeness was now working to help Bell's expenses. And right now, with almost 300,000 valis stuffed in his wallet, for the first time since coming to Orario, Bell was starting to feel flushed with cash.

And, as their date took them in and out of various stores and stalls around the city, he was left staring in amazement yet again both at how skilled his girlfriend was at dealing with people, and how ruthlessly she was able to haggle down merchants even despite that.

It was a stark contrast to Lilli's confrontational, aggressive form of haggling and an even starker contrast to his own soft-hearted habit of accepting whatever price he was offered. Syr smiled, she laughed, she praised, gushed and she talked the shopkeepers down and down and down, until she was walking out of the store with whatever Bell had been after, at a discount that made his head spin.

They restocked his potions at the Blue Pharmacy while he introduced her to Nazhaa.
They topped up crossbow-bolts at a small armoury off the main thoroughfare.
They passed through five different stores dotted all across the market district to fill out a list of strange materials Lilli had requested.
They picked him up a new pair of boots, and a few new undershirts, since his clothes had been almost as badly mangled as his armour.

And finally, with his girlfriend's smile shining bright and all their other needs attended to, he led her to the 8th floor of Babel Tower, and to a small Hephaestus Familia shop tucked away in the middle of the circular hallway.

Being still only a novice Adventurer and having no background in smithing at all, Bell had no clue about armour or weaponry and no working guidelines for how to tell good equipment from bad. Alfia had given him a few begrudging pointers, but as with everything else, she left all the details of his "adventure" to him. She would certainly say something if he brought home a truly worthless weapon, or armour that would put his life at risk, but other than that, she was as steadfast as ever; his path was his own and so were his mistakes.

He didn't have any complaints, really. Anytime he was caught trying to decide one way or another, it was tempting to want to press her for advice. If it was truly important, or if he pushed her hard enough, he was sure she would give in.
But, he'd come to Orario to become the kind of Hero that a woman like Alfia could believe in. He couldn't do that by simply following her instructions.

And that was exactly why this particular store seemed perfect to him. If he didn't know how to judge quality himself, then he would put his trust in the brand Hephaestus.

Even aside from the brand's sterling reputation, Hestia had keenly vouched for the deity herself, and it had been the smithing Goddess she's sought out to create his beloved knife. Bell was certain, there was no way the woman his Goddess spoke so highly of, would allow any kind of low-quality products to be sold in her stores, not even in the discount stores like this. And, even beyond that, this was the store Eina had taken him to, the one she'd recommended. It was always a lot easier to shop in a store you'd already been to.

"Oh, wow!" Syr hummed, peering around curiously as he held the door open for her, "I had no idea there were stores like this here."

"I was just as surprised!" he answered, leading her inside and feeling like an expert for a change as her regaled her the story of his own disbelief when his advisor had led him here, "I always thought the Hephaestus stores were only for the most expensive equipment, the stuff you see on main street but…"

She nodded, following his gaze.

Just like the last time he was here, the shop was a forest of armour. All around them were pieces on display, black and grey sheets of protective metal in various shapes, sizes and designs. From sets that looked extremely sturdy, to pieces that looked downright gaudy or outright peculiar, there was an extensive range of varieties on display. It all looked high quality, but, just as he'd indicated-

21,000, 35,000, 46,000, none of it was out of his price range.
Rather, Bell was left with a feeling like he could afford pretty much anything in the store. A feeling he couldn't have even imagined a few weeks ago.

"Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Yeah…" he hummed, slipping past the display racks and looking instead through the boxes setup at the very back of the store, "Pyonkichi."

No sign of it. Frowning, Bell walked further around the back of the store, looking through the shelves, lifting up each of the crates in turn, making sure he hadn't missed anything.

"…Pyonkichi?"

"Uh, oh, yeah… Hah, it's a bit of a strange name, isn't it? But, that's the armour I was wearing before… er, before it was destroyed. It was incredible! I wanted to find more by that smith."

To Bell, simply calling it incredible felt like he was underselling it. The Pyonkichi armour, aside from the odd name and affordable price, had been light, strong, and it had fit his body like a glove. It was exactly the kind of protection he wanted to take with him into the middle levels… and yet, even as he did a full loop around the store, and even as he looked through each of the racks in turn, he couldn't find a single sign of anything like it, nor of anything bearing that smith's name.

"It's not here?"

"…"

He didn't want to admit it. But, even after doing another full loop of the store, Bell's search turned up completely empty.

A knot of disappointment formed at the pit of his stomach. There was no reason he had to buy another set by the same smith… If he looked around the store properly, there was surely a tonne of armour just as good or better than the set he'd worn before, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to even try. His heart was already set.

'Did I really become a fan of his work that easily..?'

"Well, I might as well ask…"

"Mhmm, it can't hurt to make sure."

Feeling defeated, but doing his very best to try keep it from showing on his face, Bell dragged his feet towards the customer service counter.

Slogging back to the entrance of the store, the sound of raised voices and a fiery argument echoed all around him, bouncing loudly off the forged metal armour and the razor-sharp blades. Stepping around a line of display models and over to the front desk, Bell could see a customer having a very heated discussion with one of the Hephaestus Familia clerks.

The closer he got, the clearer the argument became, until it was impossible to ignore even despite wanting nothing to do with it.

"This is my lifeblood, you hear me!? At least treat me like everyone else!"
"This was a decision made by management… It needs to sell, and without that…"
"Oh! So, that's it, huh!? Well, I've got a few things to say about that!"

Fitting for his loud voice, the customer looked tall and strong. A human, muscular, although not to the point of being beefy and a few years older, probably about the same age as Nazhaa.

And, fitting for the fiery passion on display, he had a head full of flaming red hair. Actually, as he took a second look, Bell couldn't help but notice that it all looked a little strange, his hair was a short cut that had grown out, only to have the bangs shorn off when they'd started getting in his eyes. It gave the man a rough-hewn look, one that was only magnified by the sight of his clothing, particularly the long, pitch-black cloak hanging off his shoulders. Thick, tough-seeming and probably of high quality, the jacket's durability was clear… but what was also clear was just how much it had endured. Beaten, frayed and torn, it looked almost to the point of being rags.

Given that he was hefting a box of armour parts on the front counter, slamming his hand against the side of the crate each time he made to emphasise his point, and given he seemed so angry about whatever was wrong, Bell could only assume he was a fellow adventurer.

Was the equipment he'd brought defective? Was he trying to return them? It was hard to imagine something sold in a Hephaestus shop would be faulty… And a little worrying, given that was a huge part of his very justification for coming here… But whatever the case was, the employee he was barraging looked both exhausted and disinterested.

Every one of the man's complaints were waved off, shrugged away, or given simple dismissals. Whatever was going on, it was clear the shop didn't intend to concede any ground. And in return, the customer was getting angrier and louder, his rage building each time he was brushed-off.

Thankfully, unavoidable as this argument was, it was none of Bell's business.

Ignoring the spectacle, he made his way up to the second counter, where a female clerk was watching the squabble with a slightly annoyed look on her face, and waved for her attention.

"Oh! Welcome! Can I help you with anything?"

"I was looking around, but I just wanted to be sure- do you have anything made by Welf Crozzo?"

!?

The very moment Bell said the name that had been inscribed as a signature on the inside of his armour, the entire shop fell silent.

The argument that had been raging beside him fell silent instantly. The clerk he'd addressed stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth falling open, and the two men that had been fighting so loudly slowly turned to face him.

'H-Huh, wha..?'

He boggled, trying to make sense of this shocked reaction. Had he done something wrong? Was he not supposed to ask so directly? Three sets of eyes bored silently into him. His girlfriend's presence, just a few steps behind him, would have been a comforting support… if only he couldn't practically see the amused smirk on her face as she watched him unwittingly making himself the centre of attention. So instead, Bell shifted awkwardly under the pressure.

The attendant coughed, "U-Um, you're… you're looking for Welf Crozzo's work..?"

"That's right," he nodded. Unsure of what in the world he'd landed himself in, all Bell could do was stay the course, "I want to buy armour made by Welf Crozzo."

He braced himself for her reaction, whatever it might be. But surprisingly, the first person to respond wasn't the clerk, but the young man who'd been arguing at the other counter until now!

"Haa… HAHAHAHA! Well! Would you look at that! Looks like there's at least one name on my client list!"

Booming with laughter and practically shaking with delight, the redhead's entire demeanour changed in a moment! Punctuating his words by slapping the box he was carrying one last time, he smirked victoriously over at the man who had been so thoroughly brushing him off until now.

The employee couldn't respond, turning away as his shocked expression turned into a displeased scowl, he simply stood in place, doing his best to avoid eye contact.

Which, instead, left Bell -also standing awkwardly in place with a shocked expression, and also doing his best to avoid eye contact- the next target of the young man's attention.

"Yessir, Adventurer-san! If you're looking for Welf Crozzo armour…"

"Eh!?"

"It's right here!"

And with that, the box he'd been lugging around was set down on the counter, directly before Bell's eyes. Looking now from up-close, he could see it contained a set of light armour, shiny and pristine, it was undoubtably brand new, without a single dent or mark and with its white coloured metal as unblemished as virgin snow.

"Ah!"

The design was a little more refined from what he'd been using before, and the colour was a little fresher, but Bell recognised it instantly! There was no mistaking it! It was exactly the same craftsmanship as his Pyonkichi armour, it was exactly what he'd come here to find, this was Welf Crozzo's work!

"So, how about it?" The other man egged him on with an eager smile, "Want to try it out?"

"Eh… Um, but… isn't this yours?"

For the second time in almost as many minutes, Bell was given the impression that he'd unwittingly asked a very strange question, because as soon as he'd said that, the other man blinked blankly at him a few times, as if trying to make sense of what he was even asking… Thankfully, just a moment later, the redhead's face lit up once again, and he beamed like a kid in a candy store.

Thrusting out his chest and planting his hands on his hips, the redhead looked him square in the eyes, "Yep, it's mine all right… I'm the one who forged it!"

Bell's brain did a backflip trying to catch up.
Syr laughing gently behind him didn't help.

"Ha, okay, let me introduce myself properly- the name's Welf Crozzo, currently a low-ranking smith from the Hephaestus Familia. And, if you're here for my work, then that means you must be my very first fan! …Want an autograph?"

Far from the frustration he'd shown early from the clerk's earlier treatment, and no longer crowing with the rush of victory either, Welf's smile was warm and genuine. It was the simple pride of a craftsman who was seeing his hard work finally being acknowledged by someone who'd cared enough to give it a chance.

Looking up at him now, shocked to have found not just the armour he'd wanted, but the man who'd made it, somehow, Bell felt like Welf had a very brotherly aura about him, a sense of being steadfast and reliable.

He couldn't help but smile in return.

---

"Er… ah… Sorry…" Wincing, Welf scratched his head with an awkward smile, "I didn't realise you two were on a date… I thought she must've been your sister or something, well, just never thought this store'd be the kind'a place couples would hang out."

"Yeah…"

Bell was forced to agree.

After Welf had properly introduced himself inside the store, he'd quickly followed up by asking if Bell would go outside with him, to speak privately. Once again, finding himself taken completely off guard, the young adventurer had been scrambling for a way to politely refuse when Syr had crashed his thoughts to a halt, squeezing his hand with hers and agreeing that he should go with the smith.

Leaning so close to him that Bell's head had spun, she had quietly explained that they'd already finished up with everything they'd needed to buy, but that she still had some female things she needed to take care of, and so this would be her cue to leave. Instead, she'd said he should go with Welf, finalise any adjustments that needed to be made on the armour, and discuss whatever else it is that men need to talk about privately.

As always with his girlfriend, her words had trodden that painfully difficult line between a reasonable suggestion and outright teasing that he'd been at a loss for how to respond.

And so, with her face lightning up just as delighted as ever at seeing his confusion, Syr had pulled him away behind a line of display pieces, planted a painfully brief goodbye-kiss on his lips, and slipped away from him almost before he'd known it was happening.

Now, there was just the faintest trace of her touch upon him, the slightest ember of her warmth left on his lips.
Now, instead of walking hand in hand with the woman he loved, Bell was sitting on a surprisingly comfortable chair in the 8th Floor's rest area, once again lamenting his romantic ineptitude.

Even with all her assurances, and even if buying the armour had been one of the main reasons for the shopping trip today, he really did feel bad about having taken her to such a dingy little store on what was meant to be a romantic shopping trip. Syr wasn't an Adventurer, she didn't know anything about the Dungeon, she couldn't possibly have found it interesting to look through boxes of platemail with him.

He'd spent a pretty significant amount of the money he'd risked his life to earn buying drinks for the whole bar, not to mention facing up against Mama Mia herself, to get the chance to take her out today… and this is what he'd done with the opportunity?

He could only sigh. He was sure his Goddess would chastise him firmly when he told her. It was yet another reminder that he still had a lot to learn about romance.

"Hey, sorry… I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name, anyway?"

"Oh, Bell Cranel."

"Bell Cra… wait, as in Vanadis Odr!? You're Odr!? The new record holder!"

"N-Not so loud… er, what do you mean by 'record holder'?"

As Welf told it, it seemed that Bell hadn't just levelled up quickly, but he'd levelled up faster than anybody else in history. He'd taken the record of "Fastest Level Up" from the Sword Princess herself.

He'd had no idea. After returning from the Denatus, his Goddess had been so distraught about his new title, and her failure to win him the kind of title she'd been aiming for, that she hadn't mentioned anything like that.

A few days ago he'd been a completely unknown nobody, and now the news was spreading around Orario that he'd taken an achievement from the star of the Loki Familia… That probably explained the group of Gods that had chased him around the previous day, as well as all the extra attention he'd been getting just walking around town. A nervous sweat built on the back of his head just thinking about that, Bell could only hope that it was just like Ryu had advised, and that his novelty would pass soon.

From there, Welf's explanation began in earnest.

Starting from the beginning, he introduced himself once again as a low-ranking smith in the Hephaestus Familia.

He told Bell about how he'd come to Orario, that he'd been doing his best, working hard to get a good reputation from the store and yet had been treated like trash in response.
He talked about how the first few items he'd sold had all been returned to the store, and about the underhanded tricks the Hephaestus smiths used to get their way with each other.
And he explained how no matter what he made, and no matter how high-quality it was, his weapons and his armour didn't sell.

As Welf told it, high-tier smiths and famous workshops never lacked for customers, but those that were still making their way up and those still getting their name out were always fighting each other for every client they could get. The unknown blacksmiths fought tooth and nail for a chance to talk to Adventurers, to get their advice and sell their products. Creating a better weapon or a more amazing suit of armour and stealing even just one sale away from another Familia member was the everyday struggle these smiths went through. Every customer was another chance to get their work out there, another chance to be attached to a promising adventurer and have their quality associated with success.

If an adventurer became famous, then the person who made their weapons and armour would become well known alongside them. Even if the smith had lived in obscurity to that point, it could turn around their entire career.

Bell found himself amazed at the depth of the connection between blacksmiths and adventurers. Until now, he'd never given it much thought, but he could see immediately that the two roles were linked inextricably.
And, in that role, Welf was at the bottom of the pile, just like him. Actually, given that he'd been able to level up, Welf was even worse off than he was.

Having worn the redhead's armour himself, Bell could vouch for the quality of the man's work himself. And yet, the only other set of armour he'd sold was returned immediately.

'It's the name!' He'd thought, 'Pyonkichi. The problem is definitely the strange name you give your work!'

But, Welf was baring his soul to him, being honest even about all his flaws and his failings, and so Bell didn't have the courage to say something like that to his face. Instead, he'd simply found himself impressed by how good-natured and mature the smith seemed to be, despite all his hardships, he was still smiling broadly and he was still clearly wearing his heart on his sleeve.

He was exactly the kind of person Bell got along with, and so he listened happily as Welf's stories continued, enjoying himself just listening as the smith spoke excitedly about his creations and earnestly about his setbacks.

And finally, having held nothing back, the redhead explained why he'd told him all this.

He wanted Bell to know exactly who he is and exactly what kind'a work he was trying to make, because he wanted to form a Direct Contract with him.

A contract that bound adventurers and smiths together in a mutually beneficial arrangement. Adventurers would bring drop items back from the Dungeon for the smiths, who in turn would use them to make strong weapons and armour at a reduced price. And, what made it even more appealing: When a blacksmith with a Falna created equipment for a specific person, it would typically turn out far better. Stronger swords, more durable armour, gear that would last and would ensure victory… the best items weren't the ones that filled the shop windows for general sale.

"Are… are you sure that's okay?"

"Hey, hey, that's my line! You're already Level Two, and I'm a no-name, low-level smith who hasn't even earned the Forge Ability yet. When you think about, this isn't fair to you, is it?"

Bell's natural modesty flared up and he almost instinctively made to argue back. Instead, he stopped himself, right before he spoke up. As difficult as it was to admit, he had a point. If he tried to say anything, he was sure it would sound a lot less like modesty and a lot more like sarcasm.

Still, it was a hard point to concede all the same.

No matter the slight difference in their current status, ever since he'd woken up, the whole time he'd been looking around the store, he'd never once seriously considered wearing any but another set of Welf Crozzo armour. Strange name aside. That was just how good the first Pyonkichi set had felt on him.

Bell was hardly a connoisseur, he knew that it was very likely he simply didn't know better, but his mind was made up on that fact all the same.

While he was lost in thought, Welf leaned over and wrapped an arm around his neck, pointing his head back over in the direction of the other shops.

"Have a look over there," he whispered, with a canny smile on his lips, "Past all the swords, axes and shields, do you see those guys, standing there? They're staring right at us."

Bell was taken aback. It was true. He'd felt various gazes following him the entire time he'd been sitting here, he'd assumed it was because of Welf's display, but now that he seriously paid attention he could see it was coming from all sorts of humans, dwaves and animal-people, all from various stores setup around the 8th Floor.

They were all looking on anxiously, as if expecting something to happen.

"All those guys're smiths, just like me. And by now, word's gotten around 'bout who you are. They're holding back to see if you turn me down, but they're all after you, they want to sign a contract with you, just like me."

"Huh!?"

Once again, Bell was left wrapping his head around the notoriety he'd gained in such a short space of time.

"It's not just you, for better or worse, all adventurers who level up are targeted," Welf's words were eerily close to those Ryu had spoken to him last night. Just like the Gods looking for a new, amusing novelty, smiths were looking for a new, promising adventurer, "That's the difference between Lower and Upper class, my friend."

Even as he spoke, Bell could see the redhead was making a point of shooting all the onlookers a smug look, as if to tell them all that he'd already won.

"Well, that's how it is," he concluded, pulling his arm back and sinking back into the chair, "I want to be your go-to guy for smithing. If I sit back and wait, then some other smith is gonna sign you, and I'll lose my first customer, the first guy who's ever come looking for my work. I've gott'a at least try make sure that doesn't happen! And, look, I've tried to be as upfront as I can, I wanted to make sure you know where you stood. I definitely have a lot to gain from this, certainly more than you do, it would do a lot for my rep if I can sign an adventure with a lot of potential like you.

"Of course, there's plenty of other more experienced, or better regarded smiths that would love to make a contract with you… So, I won't hold it against you at all if you turn me down, I'm sure your Goddess would be happy to know you were working with someone as trustworthy as possible. But… You've worn my armour. You've fought in it. And you came back looking for more."

Suddenly looking a bit abashed, Welf turned away for a second, his face going slightly red as he scratched his cheek.

"That's what I really care about. It's probably a little hard to believe when I've already said all this, but your Level doesn't really matter to me… I just, well, I never thought there'd be a day when someone would come into the store and say they wanted my work, after looking at all the other options, y'know? It's… it's like this awesome feeling inside me that just keeps piling up. It's like a smith's badge of honour, like I'm finally being recognised."

The once boisterous explanation turned into a shy admission and Welf's words trailed off with an awkward smile.

'He was after this from the start,' naïve or not, Bell was smart enough to recognise that, 'Since meeting me in the store, wanting to talk privately, it was all to try convince me to work with him.'

Even baring himself honestly was part of that show. If he did any research, then surely everything Welf had revealed would have been found out just as easily. He wasn't really happy about that, nor that he'd been pulled away from his date to listen to what was essentially a sales pitch.

But, the honesty Welf had shown was earnest. Even if he wasn't very good at understanding people, Bell was sure that his impression of the smith was correct. He'd told him everything because he'd wanted to make it clear where they stood, because he wanted to be on an equal level with him.

And, everything he'd said was true. Bell did want to keep wearing Welf Crozzo armour, he had come looking specifically for it. When Welf said he'd worked hard to make equipment that was as high-quality as anything in the store, Bell had no trouble believing it.

He sighed. Nodding to himself as he made up his mind.

Foolish as it was, naïve as it may be, ultimately, he liked the idea of working with another novice just like him. Even if Welf went a bit overboard putting on a presentation like this, the thought of two newcomers climbing the ranks together was an appealing one.

"All right, then. I'll sign a direct contact with you, Welf-san."

"That settles it! Don't know what I would have done if you'd said no!"

For the second time today, Bell stuck his hand out. For the first time today, the other person took it.

"Ha!" Welf laughed heartily once again, looking utterly refreshed, as if all his worries had just been shaken off, "Thank you! Looking forward to working with you, Bell!"

His hand was large and strong, and it felt almost as hot as a furnace. He felt as though he could feel all the smith's enthusiasm radiating out of him.

And, as they shook hands, Bell could feel the gazes on him slowly leaving one by one as the onlookers sighed in frustration or disappointment and turned back to their work.

"We'll work out the official contract between us later on, but for now…" Releasing their hands, Welf dropped his head with another awkward wince, "I know this is a bit early to be asking, but, whichever way this went, I was also hoping to ask you for a favour…"

Bell's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
It seemed to be a smith in this city, you truly had to be absolutely forthright.

He didn't hate it, but he couldn't imagine being that earnestly upfront, it almost made him a little jealous.

"Hey, I'm not asking you to help me for nothing. I'll give you that armour there, and I'll make any and all equipment you need to go with it, absolutely for free."

"HUH!?"

Once again, Bell found himself blown away by the sense that he'd been offered an unbelievably favourable deal.

"Haha, don't be so surprised! C'mon, it's common sense for adventurers to want items from smiths, right?"

Not even in his wildest dreams had the white-haired adventurer imagined getting an entire new set of gear for free. If what Welf was saying was true, then he wouldn't need to pay to replace anything else that was broken. Along with the free set of armour, that was a tremendous savings!

"That's not too bad a deal, right? You can use the money to take your girlfriend out somewhere nice instead, ha… You can tell her that's my apology!"

"I… Right!" After how much time he'd spent lamenting his romantic ineptitude, that was certainly a great use for the money. He'd have to do something nice for his Goddess too, of course, "I'll definitely do that."

"Well, so long as you're fine with it… Ah, well… Er, anyway…" Getting a little caught up in the moment, Welf's words got away from him once more, but he forced himself to stand straight and face Bell head-on once again, "I want you to let me join your battle party."

"Eh?"

Bell blinked.

Welf… a blacksmith… wanted to go into the Dungeon?

"Haha, no need to look so shocked, it's not such a strange thing. Well, I guess it's not that common… Most smiths want to just work in the forge all day. But, if you're any good at fighting, and if you can handle the risks… It's well worth heading to the Dungeon. Y'see, I'm still stuck at Level One, but if I can Level Up, even just one time, I'll be able to take the Advanced Ability, Forge! It's no exaggeration to say that skill is a game-changer for smiths, it can make or break your career as a smith. If you really wanna make the very best equipment, if you wanna make the kind of gear that'll be famous all around the world…"

"I see…"

He'd had no idea. He'd known that a Falna responded to your soul, your determination and the actions that you took, but until now he'd only ever thought of it in the context of Adventurers, or Supporters, only in the sense of Dungeon exploration. But it seemed that the depths of the labyrinth held inestimable value even for people who would otherwise be civilians. It was a bit of a shock, wrapping his head around it. Truly, just as his Goddess and Alfia had both told him, the world was bigger than he'd imagined.

"Course, normally when Familia members go into the Dungeon, they form a party with other members of the same group… I'm kind'a embarrassed to admit it, but, whenever a battle party goes into the Dungeon, I'm always left out! Can you believe that? What's their deal!?"

Ah.

It made sense now.

Bell nodded along as Welf explained how he'd been forced to work solo, or join up with battle parties made up of members from other Familia as a last resort.

He needed high-level excelia in order to level up and he needed reliable companions who could help him achieve a great feat. If he couldn't do that, the Forge ability would forever be out of his reach, and eventually he'd probably reach the limit of what he could do as a blacksmith with only a basic status. Since his Familia members always left him behind, he'd been forced to work solo, but going deeper than the top floors by himself was impossible- Welf had been into the Dungeon a number of times now, and he had a decent amount of combat experience, but he wasn't anywhere near skilled enough as a fighter to explore far by himself.

In short, he was stuck in a very difficult position. But, strangely, it was a very similar position to the one Bell had found himself stuck in after Ryu told him he needed to expand his battle party the previous night.

It was serendipitous, almost too perfect a coincidence to believe. Just this morning he'd been fretting about where he could possibly find other companions, and now it was barely midday and he suddenly had two more people wanting to join. Hörn was a strange woman and a very hard person to get a handle on, but Welf seemed about as straightforward and upfront as they came.

If anything, it was hard to imagine a guy who was both so clearly skilled at smithing and steadfast enough to risk his life to get better at it, was being given such poor treatment by his Familia.

His Goddess had always been full of nothing but praise for Hephaestus. And Bell knew that not only was the Forge Goddess responsible for his Knife, but she'd also provided the very roof over his head. How was it that the faction she led was so harsh to one of their own? That wasn't anything like the woman Hestia described, nor was it anything at all like how he'd imagined a Familia would act.

"Is… there a reason they leave you out?"

Welf looked away, his expression turning to one of sullen frustration, "They're… they're just jealous of my hidden talents."

It was hard to believe that. But, with how quickly the other man's walls had jumped up, it was also hard to press more.

Bell hesitated.

He liked Welf. And he'd already agreed to form a direct contact with him. And it was also to his benefit to have the smith he was contracted to learn Forge. And he felt a kinship with this man, he wanted to help him. And his Goddess got on well with Hephaestus, he could surely trust anyone that Hephaestus trusted. And having four members would surely let them make even faster progress than having three. And he was sure Eina would be proud of him for forming an agreement with both someone from the Freya and Hephaestus Familia.

…

And… and Welf was offering him not just a whole set of armour, but a full assortment of equipment to go with it.

It wasn't as if he was being bribed. He had been looking to expand his battle party, and Welf was someone with experience down to the 12th floor, more or less the same as him, it was an ideal fit. Still, no matter his reasons and his logic, he couldn't say the smith's offer wasn't a factor.

"Ha… Okay, that sounds great too! Then, Welf-san, I'd be happy to have you in my battle-party!"

Once again, it seemed as if a wave of relief had just been shaken off the grateful blacksmith.
And once again, the two of them exchanged smiles and laughs as they shook hands.

"I won't let you regret that, partner! I swear! And, when I Level Up, I'll make you some amazing gear!"

Once again, the two of them exchanged smiles and laughs as they shook hands.

"You know, you really are an incredible guy, Welf-san."

"Ha… Yeah? What's brought this on, you really like my work that much, huh?"

"Oh, ah, well that too, of course… But I was just thinking, you make armour like that, and you go into the Dungeon, even though you're a Crozzo."

Bell had meant to say more, but the second he mentioned the smith's surname, Welf's expression dropped, and he had a sudden impression he'd put a foot very wrong.

"Ah… You know about my family…"

"S-Sorry? I, sorry, I shouldn't have said anything..? I didn't mean anything bad by it, I ju-"

Heaving a sigh, the redhead held a hand up to forestall him, his face a look of awkwardness and frustration.

"No, no, it's my fault, I should have been upfront about it from the start. It's not as if I'm trying to hide it or anything…" If he'd wanted to hide who his family was, then he wouldn't have signed his creations with the name, "It's just, it's a worthless name these days. All it does is give people expectations…"

After a moment's contemplation, his expression hardened and he nodded to himself.

"Right. Yeah. Okay. We're gonna be partners from now on, I told you all about me so you'd know the kind'a guy I was, I should have been upfront about that too. It's not right for me to be holding back like that, so I'll fix that now. Alright, how much do you know? What do you know about the Crozzo name?"

Welf's steadfast nature was as refreshing as ever, but now Bell found himself put on the spot from what had been intended as a fairly lighthearted comment.

"Er, well… Not much… I only know what my mother's sister has told me."

"Your… your mother's sister? So, your aunt?"

"Gh!?" The white-haired adventurer flinched so hard he almost fell off his seat, "S-Sh-She doesn't like that word."

Welf blinked. Slowly.

"And, and, I shouldn't say it, really. She didn't tell it very nicely."

"Well, that's fine, it's not a very nice story. Actually, I'm a bit interested in what others say about us."

Bell sighed, and then, looking at his feet, he slowly repeated the words Alfia had told him when he'd shown off his armour the first time, "She said the Crozzos were a pack of fools that were blessed with the ability to make the most incredible magic swords the world has ever seen."

Grinning, Welf leaned in closer, making no objections. So, he continued, reciting the Maiden of Silence's story as she'd told it to him.

"Nobody knows where their talent came from- maybe they made a pact with a spirit, or maybe it was just the whim of the Gods, but their ability was truly undeniable. Crozzo became a second word for disaster, their blades scorched mountains, annihilated forests and were even said to be able to set fire to the ocean. No other magic sword could even come close, it was as if the power of the heavens themselves were imbued in their blades, and they made hundreds, maybe thousands of those swords.

"If they had taken their skills to Orario, they would have changed the very fate of Dungeon Exploration, and been instrumental in the success of the Great Quests. Or, if they had at least honed their skills with the swordsmiths in Solingen, they would have given strength to all the world in the fight against Monsters. But, unfortunately, the Crozzos instead wasted their talents becoming lapdogs to the Kingdom of Rakia.

"The greatest magic swordsmiths the world had ever seen were easily brought by the King's praise, drowning themselves in the opulence he offered them, using their talents only for the sake of maintaining a decadent, noble lifestyle. And so, the greatest magic swords that have ever existed were used for nothing more than a bunch of petty, senseless wars. The power of the blades was utterly insurmountable, entire countries were razed as fast as an army could march, vast Elven forests were burned to ashes and countless lives were lost under their power. But, of course, it was never their power. However they had attained their blessing, it passed suddenly and without warning. The Kingdom of Rakia stood at yet another pointless war, right on the eve of battle, only to find every single one of their Crozzo magic swords had turned to dust. Not only that, but the Crozzos themselves had completely lost the power to make them.

"In a single instant, the fates had turned. The age of the Crozzos and of Rakia was over. For all they had done, the vengeance meted out on Rakia by the other nations was tremendous. The Kingdom had made an enemy of the entire world, and with its sudden weakness it was pillaged on all sides, losing all the territory they had gained and retreating their forces right back to their heartland defences.

"And, for their years of loyalty and service to Rakia, the Crozzos were rewarded with nothing. The smith's failure was blamed for the Kingdom's downfall and they were stripped of all their titles, all their wealth, all their land and everything their foolishness had gained them. Even to this day, they haven't learned a single thing, they're still right where they were left, still crawling around pathetically on the dirt of Rakia, prostrating themselves before a King who hates them and chasing after the echoes of a dream that's already ended."

After finishing his recital, a wave of concern suddenly washed over him. He'd repeated it just as he'd been told, and Alfia had explained it to him as if it was nothing more than history, but this was someone's family, he was saying this directly to the per-

Welf bellowed with laughter once again, slapping his leg with a wild smile. "So, that's how outsiders tell our story, huh? Well, it's not wrong, ha, it's not wrong at all! She's right, Crozzo magic swords are just a dream that's long since gone."

Suddenly relieved, Bell matched the smith's smile with one of his own, "She liked you though! She said, the fact you're in Orario, and that you're making armour this good means you must be the only one in the entire family who's not a fool."

Again, the redhead's laughter filled the air, "Well damn, I'm glad I've got her approval at least then."

"I, I think she's right. Magic swords sound great, but if you can't make them, then all that matters is what you can make, just the same as anyone else. There's no reason the Crozzos can't be as good a smith as any other… At least, the armour you made me, it was better than anything else I found."

Again, Welf beamed, soaking in the recognition and praise for all the hours he'd toiled unrewarded until now.

"I'm glad, I'm really glad to hear you say that, partner. But… but if I'm being upfront with you, then I wanna lay it straight…" He paused, frowning for a moment, as if getting a great weight off his chest, "You see, I actually can make magic swords."

Bell gaped. He suddenly felt as if the whole previous conversation had been thrown for a loop.

"You didn't know, huh? Sorry, couldn't help but wonder when I heard you knew my name. Yeah, I've got no clue why, but I'm the only Crozzo that can make 'em. But, I'll tell you this upfront, I won't make any. I can't budge on that… If, if that means you wanna cancel our agreement, that's fine. I should'a said it from the start."

"I er, I… ha…"

After everything they'd talked about, after the disgusted reverence even Alfia had had in talking about Crozzo magic swords… Welf could make them? Bell felt as if his mind was doing a backflip once again. But the moment he processed it, he started to understand why the redhead was being treated so badly even in the Hephaestus Familia.

Magic swords were incredibly, unbelievably powerful. They gave magic to anybody, at any time, with no cost to the user. They could turn the tables in an instant, turn defeat into victory in a single moment. A single magic sword was often worth hundreds of thousands of valis.

And Welf could make something amazing enough to put all that to shame. He could make a kind of legendary weapon that any Hephaestus store in the city would be begging to put in their window display. The kind of mythical Crozzo magic swords that would have people coming from across the world to get their hands on. And he chose not to.

He couldn't imagine what Alfia would say if she heard that. But it wasn't hard to imagine how the other smiths must have reacted. Welf had a free ticket to fame and fortune, just because of his bloodline, but he refused to use it. No wonder they left him out of their battle parties, they must be jealous beyond reason.

"Why..?"

"Well, there's a few reasons… but… I hate magic swords," his mouth curled into a grimace, and he cast his gaze off into the distance, "I told you my work doesn't sell, but I've had a tonne of clients. Nah, I still do, even. It's all so simple, it makes me sick. All these people see my weapons and armour in the shop, they see the name Crozzo on them and they run out to find me. They ignore what I've made, they bang on my door, walk past everything I've created and just beg me to make them a magic sword instead.

"Nothing I've made matters, none of it counts, none of them even give it a second look. It's all just magic sword, magic sword, magic sword, that's all I ever heard. I mean, I know, I realise I don't have much experience, I'm not a famous name or anything, but… it still really hurts, y'know?"

Even if Bell thought he couldn't understand, he could still at least sympathise. Welf clearly put a lot of himself into his work, the passion in his voice when he talked about blacksmithing was intense, it was the same kind of fire that he'd seen from Ais when she talked about the Dungeon, or Riveria when she talked about magic, the dazzling ferver of someone who'd put their life into what they loved. The way Welf's entire body had lit up from having his work praised was unmistakable. And yet, despite having clients beating down his door, there was nobody that recognised that passion, nobody that looked him in the eye; none of them cared about his work, or his efforts, they only saw the value of the Crozzo bloodline. All they saw was magic swords.

Bell doubted he could ever understand what that felt like. But, he knew how much he hated it when Alfia said that heroes didn't exist, and he knew how desperate he was to prove her wrong. He'd come to Orario and put his life on the line for that reason. It felt a little shameless to say, when their situations weren't similar at all… but he imagined something of a kindred spirit with Welf in that regard- the smith was putting his life and his reputation on the line, chasing after a dream that everyone he respected told him was stupid, just the same.

"Things went downhill fast, I sent them all packing! I chased them away, every one of them!"

A newbie smith chasing clients out of his workshop. Just another reason all the other Hephaestus blacksmiths would resent him.
He was angry at the people who wouldn't give his hard work a second look, and he was angry at the Crozzo blood flowing through him that was all anyone cared about.

"Your aun-, er your mother's sister isn't wrong. The rest of my family is still doing the same thing, exactly as she said, just desperately trying to restore the family name," his disdain was clear, "Ever since I was a kid, my old man crammed all these forging techniques into my head. But I'm grateful to him, because thanks to that, I learned the joy of creating something useful. Maybe that's why I can make them? Because I didn't hate smithing, and I wasn't just doing it to keep myself going either. I didn't want to be a lord, or a noble, or anything like they dreamed of, I was happy just being in a forge alongside my old man, covered in soot and making something people would care about… That feeling, the first time I struck metal… I can still feel it, even now.

"However, once they realised what I could do, everything changed. My old man forced me to make a magic sword. He said it was to return the Crozzo family to glory. Ha… 'Make a tool the King would appreciate' is what he meant, but he left that part out."

Bell couldn't imagine. He didn't have anything to even compare that to. His family had been far simpler and far more loving. His Grandpa told him stories of Heroes, Alfia denied them, and both of them filled him with such love that he'd wanted to make them both as proud of him as he could.

He wasn't living his Grandpa's dream anymore, but he wasn't opposing it either, and he knew his Grandpa would be happy for him all the same. He'd always wanted Bell to find his own path… Rather, if anything, he was pretty sure his Grandfather would be beside himself that Bell had managed to win the love of a (no longer) virgin Goddess.

What was it like to come face to face with the ideals and desires of someone who'd raised you, to face them head on against your own convictions and reject them entirely? Once again, he couldn't possibly imagine.

"Making tools to be used, that's fine, it's a living. And even political tools, they're something fancy for royalty to wave around… But weapons aren't like that. They ain't even close," the unwavering resolution in Welf's voice was staggering. Whatever anyone else said about him, or about his magic swords, this was his truth, "Weapons aren't just a tool, or something nice to look at. When someone's in trouble, when they're in desperate straits, they need to know they can always count on their weapon. From the moment they grip the hilt, it becomes an extension of their arm.

"As smiths, it's our job to make weapons that can live up to that. It's our job to make weapons that last. We face down metal at its hottest- at our hottest. You can't make a weapon unless you pour everything you have into it, unless you bring out everything you've got to bear. So, what happens if we half-ass it? What if it's just a routine? What if we forget our ambition?"

The question hung in the air.

"I hate magic swords. They always break before the wielder."

Bell's eyes widened, slowly understanding the meaning behind Welf's philosophy. Of course, normal swords broke too, they wore down and snapped… but, that was only normal swords. Durandal weapons would never break, and his own knife was no different. It would last longer than he would. Could a magic sword be made in the same vein? He'd never heard of anything like that. At the very least, it seemed the greatest Crozzo magic swordsmiths had never achieved anything like that. There had never been a need to, the weapons had already been considered unstoppable, and they had been raised up like lords and nobles just for creating them.

What ambition would a smith like that have? Would he have the same kind of passion for forging that Welf was showing right now? He couldn't imagine it.

"I absolutely despise magic swords. That kind of power rots people's souls. The user, the smith's pride, anyone and everyone, it becomes all they rely on until it fails them, and then they just want more. Well, at the very least, Crozzo magic swords are like that. I won't make a magic sword, and if I did, I'd never put it up for sale."

The air was tense, filled heavily with the other man's conviction. Bell nodded slowly, taking it onboard, testing it against his own resolve.

"I… I think, as an adventurer, it's hard to understand," he admitted after a moment. If Welf was going to bare himself honestly, then he needed to do the same in reply, "Of course, I know it's greedy to just want the power of a magic sword, it's too easy that it becomes dangerous… But it's also something that can help people. My supporter saved my life with a magic sword, if she hadn't had it, I would have been in a lot of trouble. And, and even if it does break… that doesn't mean it's not useful. Nazhaa works hard to make the potions I use, and they've saved my life many times, but when I drink them they're gone.

Welf sighed, scratching the back of his head, "I can't say you're wrong, but-"

"But, I can believe in something beyond that too," so saying, Bell pulled out the Hestia Knife. Even though he was only going out shopping today, even though he'd had no intention of going to the Dungeon, he'd still strapped it to his hip out of pure habit, that's how much he'd come to rely on this knife. Just as Welf had said, it was a part of him, "Because, I treasure this knife more than any magic sword in the world, even a Crozzo magic sword. This knife will never fail me, and… and, I understand how much that means. I know I can always stake my life on it."

The smith's eyes went wide seeing the Hephaestus signature on the hilt, and the sheer, unmistakable quality of the knife held out before his eyes. He could tell instantly, this was something his Goddess had made. This was something the woman he loved had crafted. It was amazing, beyond compare. That simple obsidian black knife was far beyond any magic sword.

His soul got fired up just looking at it!

"See, partner! That's my ambition right there! Rather than being a guy who can just make magic swords, I wanna be a guy who can make something like that!"

Bell grinned.

"Right!"

He doubted Alfia would agree with that logic at all, but to him, that was exactly the kind of smith he wanted to be contracted to.

---

While Bell was talking to Welf, Syr had made her way to the eastern side of Orario and was now walking casually through the many twists and turns that made up Daedalus Street.

Despite being alone in one of the most disreputable parts of the Dungeon City, her steps were light, unhurried and unbothered. She turned a corner, vanishing out of sight from any would-be onlookers, and with that, the neighbourhood girl disappeared.

Where Syr had once stood, Freya now strode.

"My Lady."

Where Syr had been alone, Ottar walked at Freya's side, his massive arms cradling an ornate chest that clinked lightly with every step he took.

Wordlessly, the Goddess extended a hand, and just as wordlessly she was handed the same long, sleek robe she so commonly used to hide her appearance when travelling around the city. Wrapping the cloak around herself and flipping up the hood, Freya permitted herself a minor grimace.

Normally, staying incognito when she was in public was a matter of convenience. Her very presence drew everyone to her, mortals and deities alike, and it was tiresome to deal with them all. This time, however, it was a matter of prudence. Both because she wished to have the business she was about to conduct stay unseen, and because she wished to have as little of herself as possible looked upon by those she was doing business with.

She had already instructed Hörn to prepare an almost scaldingly hot bath for her return.

This was hardly the first time Freya had dirtied herself, whether in the Heavens above or on the Earth she now stood, she was no stranger to disgracing either her body or her morality. But, to do so directly after leaving her beloved Odr's side… to go from basking in his vibrant warmth to dealing with the filth that crawled between Orario's cracks… that held a special kind of repulsion.

Still, there was precious little choice, the only other one who could possibly create what she needed was Asfi Andromeda. And Freya dared not risk letting Hermes get any closer to her plans than he already was.

So, for now, the Empress of Orario would simply have to endure.

Turning down another twisting alleyway and passing by another blind corner, the Goddess and her follower ducked discreetly into a small, dust-ridden house. The door was unlocked, but the walls were threadbare and the shelves were empty, by all accounts it was another abandoned tenement within the city's darker district.

And yet, when the Boaz pressed gently on the foyer wall, it slid open to reveal a dark, orichalcum staircase.

Down, down, down, down, down, down, they went.

And, at the bottom, the door at the foot of the staircase opened up to reveal a wide, sweeping room lit bright by magic-stone torches. A workshop hidden beneath the bowels of the city. One of many that the Evilus used for their hidden agenda.

A sinister looking forge sat in an alcove on the southern side, a ring of benches lined the walls, and atop each of them were all manner of delicate, expensive looking machinery. Sparkling, well maintained and expertly polished tools hung from hooks or laid at rest atop the tables, ready for use; hammers, tongs, scales, bowls and all manner of other goldsmithing instruments she could only guess at.

And, unfortunately, with a soul as black as soot, among all the beautiful machinery stood a man as ugly as Freya had ever seen.

One of Ikelos's children. She didn't bother learning his name. Rather, she had intentionally omitted it.

"Come no closer."

Ottar's voice boomed a warning as ominous as thunder the instant the man rose from his seat, coming to greet his guests. As always, the boaz was well-attuned to his Goddess's wishes.

Simply enduring this man's presence, lowering herself to making a deal with him, of making use of him, was disgrace enough for the proud deity. She would brook nothing further.
If he dared to reach a hand out to try shake hers, then he would find himself smeared across the workshop's walls long before he made contact.

"Of course, of course!"

Thankfully, the craftsman was smart enough to back down, instantly shrinking away from her and into his seat. And thankfully too, Ikelos had stood by his word and sent only this one single child to meet her.

Freya had intended her date with Odr to act as a shield against the disgust she felt consorting with the Evilus's filthy souls, akin to someone throwing a bucket of water over their heads before rushing into a burning building. Instead, watching the way the craftsman's eyes traced up and down across her figure, drinking in as much of her as visage as was possible around the cloak, she found her disgust only magnified, as if her very pride was mocking her, sneering the idea that she had left her beloved behind to make a deal with a man like this.

'This is for his sake too! This is so I don't have to have Hestia killed! So, I don't need to have Alfia dealt with!'

As always, the Goddess's justification was utterly self-serving. But her anguish was real.
The warmth of Odr's goodbye-kiss vanished from Freya's lips and she didn't bother trying to hide her scowl.

At her gesture, Ottar opened the chest he'd been carrying, and revealed the contents. Two beautifully ornate glass bottles, the finest glassware in all the world… and each holding the finest liquid in all the heavens: A full litre of Freya's ichor. Divine Blood that would surely be used to create numerous cursed items.

It made her skin crawl just thinking about it, the very idea that her essence would be used to power some sick and twisted weapon forged by a madman. No small part of her wanted to call this whole deal off, to have Ottar dispatch this man and to have every one of those Ikelos rats killed just for having the gall to even suggest something so demeaning.

But she stamped those feelings down. Even if she no longer sought it out, even if her self-destructive days were behind her, Freya was no stranger to being dirtied.

For the first time since she'd come in, the craftsman's gaze finally left her, staring at the bottles his eyes filled with almost ravenous delight.

'Disgusting.'

Cursed items had little place in the Dungeon. They were not used to save the world. Rather, they were created primarily to twist fate and to kill Heroes.
They were a rejection of the Great Quests and the wishes of all the non-Evil Gods.

She knew little of their production and cared even less. There was only one part that mattered to her, the most important part of all: That while cursed weapons certainly existed to twist fate… fate itself had twisted was also back against them. Any God's ichor could be used in their creation, but the viler the God, the thinner the effect. Those who created cursed weapons worked with the worst of the Divinities, but those same Divinities had the least to offer them.

Freya was no Goddess of virtue and purity, the only justice she cared about was self-serving, and she couldn't even remember the night she lost her virginity.
But, she had pride, she had kindness and she had love. She loved Orario, she loved mortals, and she loved this world. Even if her love was selfish, even if it was twisted, it was still earnest, heartfelt love.

To these people, her blood was worth a great deal. That was a repulsive, but valuable fact. And that fact meant Ikelos's child could be trusted to do what she had required of him.

"One bottle for your craft, one for your payment."

He reached for them with eyes full of greed, but Ottar didn't let go.

Her messenger had told Ikelos she needed a craftsman of exceptional talents. She hadn't told him why.

"I shall explain the details of what I will have you create in a moment. First, you will take a binding oath to never mention a word of this agreement, of your creation, or my requirements, in any capacity, on pain of death. Next, you shall take a second oath to create what I need to the very utmost of your ability, also on pain of death."

"Yes, yes, of course! It shall be just as you say! Just as you say! Ahahaha!"

No hesitation, even in the face of her still unspecified commission, even in the face of such naked threats. Either this wretch truly was as unparalleled a craftsman as his God had promised, or he was a fool beyond reason.

Freya's scowl could have frozen even Hephaestus's forge, but Ottar released the bottles into the man's care and the preparations for the vows were made instead.

"It must be perfect. Beyond perfect. Even if it takes your life to do so," she warned, self-serving and self-righteous in equal measure, "If there's even a flicker of suspicion, a single moment of recognition, then I shall go to the Guild and tell them everything I know. And then, I will join forces with Loki and destroy every last one of you."

---

Walking through town with his arms folded behind his head and his feet taking him in no particular direction, Bell found himself filled with a strange mix of both listlessness and restlessness.

After agreeing to a direct contract with Welf, the redheaded smith had taken Bell all the way over to Northeast Main Street, right to the heart of the Industrial District, where he'd shown off his own workshop as well as explained his intentions to both put the finishing touches on Bell's new armour, as well as creating new custom-made elbow and knee guards to complete the set.

Already feeling like he was getting far too much from their deal, the white-haired adventurer had made repeated attempts to offer payment, or partial payment, or repayment in terms of favours or items… but Welf had shut all down instantly. To him, this was both the start of their new agreement and the first time he was ever creating something personal for his contracted adventurer, a custom work to be put to the test directly in the Dungeon.

"My soul as a smith is roaring hot!" He had claimed, and Bell hadn't had any way to answer that.

And so, after marvelling at the various works filling out the workshop, and after spending a good hour having his measurements taken, re-taken both as he stood still and in various fighting poses, Welf had set to work immediately.

The new set of armour had been left with the blacksmith, apparently to be adjusted slightly, refitted and reshaped to better conform to Bell's physique.

Welf's previous set had felt almost perfect on him, slipping on like a glove as if it was already tailor made, so it was hard to imagine what a difference it would be to wear truly custom-fitted armour. But the redhead's mind had been made up and his smile had been blazing with excitement, so Bell could only look forward to it.

With the sound of his hammer already ringing out loud, they'd arranged to meet up outside Babel, first thing the next morning. Welf promised to prepare the extra pieces, as well as custom fit the current set to perfectly suit the adventurer, and Bell promised to do his utmost to be worth the smith's efforts.

And with that, Bell was back, wandering through the bustling streets of the Dungeon City.

And with that, there was nothing else left for him to do.

His armour was arranged and being readied. The bag he was carrying was filled with all the items, potions and various ingredients Lilli had requested from him. He'd formed a battle party as Ryu had advised. All his preparations and arrangements had been made.

Tomorrow he would go back into the Dungeon… but today… Bell was bored, and he was restless.

Normally, a day off was nothing but a break in the routine, a chance to get out into the city and do something new, to relax and to enjoy himself. Alfia had stressed over and over that maintaining his health, both mentally and physically, while he was aboveground was just as important as anything he might do in the labyrinth.

But right now, with all the time he'd spent lying around recovering from his injuries, and all the time he'd spent making arrangements for his next adventurer… and especially with the excitement of his advancement to Level Two and the new skills he'd gained (even if one of them had an unfortunate name)… Even if it had only been a few days, it felt like an eternity. His hands twitched and his eyes turned towards the massive tower that dominated the landscape. He wanted to go back to the Dungeon.

'Maybe Syr was right about me… Maybe I really do 'just have dungeons, dungeons, dungeons' on my mind…'

He'd been told over and over that his growth was extraordinarily fast. Eina had complained about how fast he was advancing through the floors, his Goddess and Alfia had both commanded him to keep his exploration prudent. And now, apparently he'd been given the tile 'Record Holder' for how quickly he'd reached Level Two.

He knew he was being greedy, his feelings were shortsighted and foolish, but just sitting around while a woman he loved was heading so far ahead of him. It rankled at him. His love was greedy, his desire to hold multiple women at once was unimaginably greedy, Bell Cranel had no doubt that he was a fool, he would have absolutely no complaints at all if Ais slapped him in the face when she heard about his ambition to catch up to her. But he'd already taken Ryu's words to heart, he'd already decided to go on an adventure, he was back on his feet now, he couldn't simply sit around doing nothing!

Actually. He corrected himself with a sigh. Unfortunately, there was nothing else he could do.

Fool as he may be, Bell Cranel did learn at least some lessons and he knew better than to go back into the Dungeon without armour or companions, purely for the sake of his restlessness. If nothing else, he was sure Alfia would skin him alive if she found out, and he didn't think he could look his Goddess in the eye if he was that reckless after making her worry so much already.

He was too restless to imagine sinking himself into a novel.
Alfia wouldn't want him interrupting her.
Syr was off taking care of her own business.
His Goddess, Ryu and Eina were all busy at work.
Lilli was helping the gnome she worked for too.
Ais and Riveria were both far ahead of him, deep in the Dungeon.
He had no idea how to get in touch with Heith.
And Filvis-

"Ah?"
"Huh?"

Filvis… was standing right in front of him?

Standing silently off to the side of one of Orario's many through-roads, the beautiful raven-haired Elf was as solitary as ever, her severe expression and frosty presence doing more than enough to keep anyone from getting too close as she idly examined her surroundings and made notes in a little book she was carrying.

The crowd around her seemed to shift and change. And, looking up from her task, she suddenly found herself meeting the gaze of the city's currently most talked-about adventurer.

"Filvis-san?"
"Bell Cranel…?"

It should have been an awkward moment.

She was sure there was no honest man in all Orario that would relish the idea of a sudden, unprepared meeting on the side of the road with the cold and distant former-Elf derisively titled "The Banshee" by her own kin. And she, of course, had little reason to desire spending time with the greenhorn adventurer, Bell Cranel, especially while she was in the midst of carrying out a task her beloved God had given her.

They were barely more than strangers, forced together by Alfia's frustrating meddling rather than any actual connection. He should have had little to say to her, and she even less in reply.

And yet, the way his entire expression lit up when he saw her, the way he immediately ran over to her, calling her name with that bright, genial smile practically stopped her in place. She was reminded instantly of Lefiya, the only other person who'd ever reached out to her… With the Loki adventurer there'd been a bond of kinship… what exactly was her connection with Bell Cranel?

She didn't quite know. But, as she tucked her pocketbook away and returned his greeting, something akin to the ghost of a smile blossomed across the beautiful features of the tainted Elf.

Instead, the only awkwardness she felt was from the small, soft warmth she could feel radiating from her chest as he drew close.

She'd already seen him back on his feet, when she'd happened to be visiting his house the day he woke up and returned home. But looking at him again now, the young Hestia Familia adventurer was clearly fully recovered, the same light of unwavering excitement was burning in his eyes, and every bit of his (now slightly muscular) frame appeared to be practically bursting with energy.

His near-death experience had dimmed neither his resolve, nor his soul. Bell Cranel was shining just as brightly as ever.

Which also meant that, despite now being an upper tier adventurer, he still radiated the exact same childish naiveté as before.

Elves loved the upright, the earnest, the naïve, the innocent, the honest, the resolved and the honourable. They loved the romantics and the dreamers. They loved those who gave their all and fought with their very soul on the line.

That was the warmth she felt, she was sure. A resonance with a part of her she'd thought extinguished completely.
That was the only reason for it, she told herself. Nothing but an echo of long-lost feelings.
Somewhere within the tattered remains of her once-Elven soul, the sight of Bell Cranel, hearty and hale, made her happy.

Of course, to her current self, that meant nothing. Her current self looked only upon Lord Dionysus and rejected all else.

Her God had tasked her with a mission, a trivial and tedious matter with little urgency, but one that needed to be resolved all the same. She intended to see it through and to report her success as soon as possible. Alfia was not here, and she had no need to curry the woman's favour at all times, and thus, she had no need to put on even the unusual thin veneer of civility she usually maintained with this man.

She would send him on his way and return to her duty.

…

And so it was that Bell Cranel once again found himself escorting the usually unapproachable captain of the Dionysus Familia around the city. His second date in the same day, with a second unbelievably stunning woman!

He didn't know exactly what Syr would think of this, but he was sure his Grandfather would be overjoyed!

In truth, he hadn't expected her to agree at all. Filvis had clearly been busy with something of her own (of which, she refused to tell him any details when he asked), and until now, their dates had always been at Alfia's command. Actually, he'd always felt it a little arrogant even to consider them 'dates', given that they'd only ever consisted of her teaching him things- whether that was the sights and scenery of Orario, or the Elvish language.

He'd spent more time with her than Ryu by now, probably even more than Eina too. And while she certainly hadn't shared anything with him to say he knew a thing about her, he still knew there was far more to Filvis than just the cold and harsh persona she tried to present.

He doubted he'd ever forget the sermon he'd received from her after he'd taken her hand, trying to put on a show of being her boyfriend to convince that Loki Familia Elf they were seriously dating. Blushing, stammering and fuming, she'd completely lost her cool as she stomped around in place, ranting about him and about humans in general. And yet, despite all her complaints, she'd accepted his words and accepted him.

Similarly, he could easily remember the way her entire face had collapsed into mortified shock after he told her about how he'd used that special elvish phrase she'd taught him to make peace with Ryu. She hadn't quite ranted or raved that time, but he couldn't have possibly missed the way the tips of her ears had been flaming red with shame as she'd scolded him.

Beneath the façade of indifference and disdain, there was a passionate heart within Filvis, he was sure of it.

And, surrounding her was a veil of darkness that he knew nothing about.

Bell Cranel was naïve, he was unworldly and he was inexperienced, but he wasn't stupid. Filvis always turned up to their home hidden beneath a cloak, she passed secret messages between her God and Alfia, and any questions by either Bell or his Goddess were furiously rebuffed. She was even lying about the nature of their relationship to her friends, she hadn't wanted that Loki Familia Elf to know anything about him or how they'd met.

No matter how he looked at it, no matter how much he wanted to believe in her and give her the benefit of the doubt, there was unquestionably something shady going on.

Still, against his better nature, Bell went along with it. He didn't ask questions, he did as he was asked, and he treated her as a friend.

Because he trusted her, and most of all, he trusted Alfia. Cold as she may be, harsh as she could act, he knew his mother's sister wouldn't be dealing with anything or anyone truly bad, not something that could get people hurt or cause serious problems.

Rather, whatever the nature of the darkness Filvis was embroiled in, Alfia wanted him to help her. He was sure of it. That's why she kept pushing them together, that's why she kept telling him he needed to learn to understand Elves while refusing to tell him anything about them. She wanted him to learn from the Elf in question, himself.

And the only way to do that, or at least, the only way Bell would accept, was to understand Filvis better. In this, at least, their interests were aligned.

Of course, having only just achieved Level Two, he knew it was almost unthinkably, ridiculously, arrogant to even think about "helping" someone who was the captain of an entire Familia…

…So instead, Bell Cranel did exactly what it was he wanted to do anyway. He simply did his best to try make a woman he liked happy.

"And here we are!"

In contrast to how he'd spent a good deal of this morning lamenting his lack of preparations and utter romantic inability for his date with Syr, this time, he actually had a plan! Given that Alfia had sent them out together every time Filvis visited, he'd expected that he would wind up out with her again sooner or later, and so, after pressing (a strangely red-faced) Eina for some locations an Elf might like to go for a date, he arrived at a simple, wonderful solution!

Café Wishe.

A small boutique shop tucked slightly away from the main road, with elegant furnishings, a bright atmosphere and a sense of serenity said to be similar to visiting a woodland forest. An Elven café. It was a little after midday, and with the money he'd saved on buying armour his wallet was full with valis, what better way to catch up than with some good food in a good restau-

"Eh?"

Rather than the look of delight or surprise he'd hoped for, Filvis was looking from the décor, to him with an exceptionally complicated expression.

"Absolutely not."

"EH!?"

Spinning on her heel, the black-haired Elf was halfway down the street almost before he'd realised it, and Bell was left running after her just to catch up.

…

In the end, Filvis at least took pity on him enough to commend the idea, explaining that she was sure any other Elf would have loved it, but not her.

And so, without any better idea and with all his other frantic suggestions immediately shot down, the two of them fell back into the same, surprisingly comfortable rhythm as always, simply walking around the city talking, until they came to one of the city's parks. There, they sat on the grass, beneath the trees, surrounding themselves with a small piece of nature and beginning another lesson on the Elvish language.

Dating Filvis was a very different experience to dating Syr.

Syr was bright and bubbly, always eager to go anywhere he suggested and always full of her own ideas for where they should go next. She happily took his arm, laughing and tugged him along as they went.

Filvis was taciturn and strict, almost all his suggestions were dismissed and most of his attempts at conversation were rebuffed. She walked quietly at his side, a half meder away from him, and spoke her mind softly but seriously.

It shouldn't have been any fun at all, but somehow, he found himself enjoying his time with Elf almost as much as with the waitress. They were able to connect with stories about the Dungeon and adventure, and whenever she gave him advice or instruction, it was always with utmost sincerity.

He wondered if it was just because of how much time he'd spent with Alfia, and how fond he'd become of Ryu, perhaps he'd simply become deviant… but, there was a warmth to Filvis's coldness that he savoured.

They passed a few hours in lessons and another just walking and talking around the city, until the sun's light was waning into late afternoon and he'd finally escorted her right back to the street where they'd met.

"A supporter from the Soma Familia is one thing," Filvis sighed, "But now you've recruited someone from the Hephaestus Familia and even the Freya Familia? Ill-fitting dregs who have no place within their own Familia's battle party… It's certainly true that you will need a team to challenge the middle levels, but I have never even heard of such a disorganised crew. Do you take the Dungeon so lightly that you believe you can just face its dangers with any rag-tag band?"

He didn't have a good answer to that.

"If your Familia cannot form a proper battle party, then the proper thing to do is to bring in more members; strong, reliable companions who you can entrust your life to. That's the entire point of having a Familia. If even that is impossible, then your Goddess should arrange for you to work with an allied Familia, someone who you can trust and who will trust you in return. I can say at least that adventurers from the Hephaestus and Freya Familia should be trustworthy, but even so, do you not think it shameful to be relying on others this much?"

"Ah, well…" Laughing awkwardly, once again, Bell could only concede once again that she was correct.

It wasn't as if he didn't want to grow the Hestia Familia, he just didn't know how he was meant to do that. They were still only a 2 person Familia stuck away in the basement of an abandoned church. Even with his new title as 'Record Holder', nobody had wanted to join his faction, they'd simply wanted to urge him to join theirs.

Suddenly stepping around to face him head on, Filvis answered his weak response with an utterly uncompromising gaze, and Bell was left swallowing heavily at the sight. Her amber eyes bored into his with an unwavering sense of sincerity and, to his surprise, a warm compassion.

"I said before that it was remarkable you were able to survive what you did on the ninth floor, and I do not take those words back. But, you must caution yourself against both pride and complacency; you have reached a new height in ability, but the danger of the Dungeon will increase far faster than you can imagine. The waitress you said warned you about the middle levels was entirely correct, and I second her vigilance in all regards. P-P…Please, Bell Cranel…"

"Ah!?"

Surprising both herself as well as him, as she gave her quiet plea, Filvis reached out to him. And, as she spoke, the very tips of her fingers took hold of the tips of his. With her hands covered in her white gloves and their fingertips just barely making contact, it was probably the smallest amount of physical contact possible.

And yet, completely by her own will, an Elf that wished never to be touched by anyone had reached out and taken his hand.

Despite all the far more extreme intimate encounters he'd had so far in this city, despite all the nights he'd spent wrapped up with his Goddess, Bell's breath was still blown away.
Filvis's face burned red, right to the tip of her ears. She hadn't intended it, she hadn't even imagined touching him until her hand was already holding his. Somehow, some forlorn part of her had yearned to reach out for him.

Bell Cranel was the only man who had ever held her hand, and now, he was also the only man whose hand she had held. That thought should have mortified her, it should have disgusted her. It wasn't meant to be him, it wasn't meant to be this man, it was meant to be Lord Dionysus.

And yet, the warmth pounding from her heart felt as if it could light up her whole body. For just a single moment, a weak spark of light shone within the darkness of her soul.

"Please, Bell Cranel. Remember, there are many on the surface who worry about you," the contact lasted only an instant, she let go a single heartbeat later. And as soon as she did, she spun around away from him, "Your Goddess, Alfia-sama, and… and me as well."

Filvis was gone long before he could have stammered a reply.

And so, once again, their date concluded with a sudden and abrupt finale.

And, once again, they each parted ways with a smile on their face.

---

"Mhmmm! Hmhhmm!"
"Mmm- hhaammm! Mmm!"

Her lips crashed against his, again and again. Moaning hungrily, sliding against him lewdly, tugging at him greedily, her thin arms were locked tight around his neck and she was utterly irresistible in both senses of the word. Hooking a leg around his as she ground her slender body shamelessly into him, the heat of her wanton desire grew hotter by the moment.

"Haa!"
"Nya-mmmphh!"

Bell broke the kiss just barely long enough to gasp for breath, but her mouth chased him down instantly, closing the gap almost as soon as it appeared.

And yet, despite being so suddenly dragged here and despite her forcefulness, he could only smile.

Being held so tight against her, feeling her entire body pushed so forcefully up against his, he could feel every bit of her.
He could feel the way her heart was slamming in her chest, feel it thumping and pounding at least twice as fast as his.

Turning her head to the side as she pushed her lips against his, she moaned her desire into their kiss and slid her tongue against his own.
Tugging him to her with the arms locked around his neck, she rolled her hips in place, slithering and grinding herself into him.

And in all of it, in all her desperation, she couldn't hide the fact that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Looking over to her in the moment he'd gasped for breath, Bell couldn't have possibly missed the way her entire face had seemed to be burning as red as a tomato, or the way her eyes were squeezed furiously shut, as if she knew she'd lose all her courage entirely if she looked at him.

'She's really doing her best, huh?'

That felt like a rather mean thing to think about a woman who was throwing herself at him with everything he had, and Bell knew he was hardly a master of love himself, but he couldn't help it. Nor could he help finding it thoroughly charming.

Her movements were clumsy, awkward, unsure and yet unrelenting; she was trying to lead him through a dance she barely knew the steps to.
Using enthusiasm to try make up for lack of experience, she was pushing through her embarrassment by covering it up with wantonness.

He found it a little bit adorable, but he also found it incredibly arousing. He was still a young man, and -skilled or not- she was an unbelievably attractive woman, pressing, grinding, sliding and slithering every curve and delight of her wonderfully lissom body against his. The scent of her filled his nose, the sensation of her filled his world, and the feeling of her working so hard to excite him was more than enough to fill his cock, leaving his length stretching up like a pillar between them.

Purring with delight, that only spurred her to roll her hips against his harder, faster, more eagerly.

He couldn't get away, even if he had wanted to. He didn't think she was trying to pin him in place, she was just clinging to him like any other woman might. But, unlike any other woman, she was so much stronger than him that he couldn't break away at all, even if he put his full force into it, he didn't think he could so much as budge her arms.

It was a very different feeling from when he was with his Goddess, or Syr. Especially so, with his back currently pressed against the wall… Bell was trapped between a rock and an exceedingly soft, warm and alluring place, one that kept moaning his name.

If he told her to stop, she surely would. But, until then…

'Fine!'

The white-haired adventurer was a gentle soul and a forgiving man. But, when it came to intimacy, in all the time he'd spent with his Goddess and especially with Syr, a fledgling, assertive streak had been kindled within him. Both his lovers had made it repeatedly (and loudly) clear that they loved it when he took charge. When he pinned them down, when he grabbed hold of them and showed them every one of his desires as directly as possible.

Through their encouragement, the reckless courage that Bell had fostered within the Dungeon blossomed into a gentle but firm domination that drove both women wild in the bedroom! The confidence to charge headlong into danger and come out on top had formed into the exact same selfless lust that had driven Cassandra to blissful madness so many times in her dreams. The resolve to charge forwards, the determination to make his women collapse in pleasure.

'If she won't stop until she's had her fill, then I won't hold back either! I'll make her cry out!'

"Mhngh-!?"

Wrapping one hand around the small of her back and threading the other through her short, black hair, cradling the back of her head, Bell's sudden shift to the offensive took her completely by surprise.

And then, for the second time in as many days, he showed the infamous Black Cat how to kiss.

…

"Nyaaaaaaaaaa~"

Chloe barely lasted two minutes before collapsing limply into his arms. Panting and shivering, with her face flushed and tail twitching, her eyes looked up at him with giddy delight as her voice leaked out shameless purrs.

"Th-That was amazing, White Hair… you really took my breath away, nyaa…"

"I, I could say the same to you. You just suddenly grabbed me! I was completely taken by surprise!"

"Nyaahahaha, I saw that cute butt of yours walking and I couldn't resist!'

Just a few minutes earlier, Bell had been making his way back along Orario's main road, heading towards the Hostess of Fertility. Syr would have probably started her evening shift by now, so he wouldn't be able to talk to her much, but he'd wanted to at least offer an apology for how their date had turned out.

Instead, a short distance from the bar, he'd been shocked from his thoughts by the sound of Chloe calling out his name, and then -practically before he'd even realised what was happening- she'd grabbed hold of him and bundled him away down this side alley, just a few meders away from the central throughfare, but out of sight of anyone looking.

A large sack of potatoes sitting propped upright against the wall at their feet, probably the last thing she'd done before pushing him against that same wall, made it clear the catgirl waitress must have been out on an errand for Mama Mia.

"Were you coming to see me, nya?"

"Well, er, well that too, of course…"

"Actually, how come Syr's not with you, nya? Did you leave her behind?"

"Eh? Syr, no, I… Huh, she hasn't come back yet?"

"Nope! We haven't seen her all day, nya! Haha, Mama Mia was complaining, she said she only lent her to you for the day."

Bell blanched.

The thought of that terrifying Dwarven woman thinking he'd run away with one of her waitresses sent him into a cold sweat. Was this another one of Syr's pranks!? Despite having an alluring catgirl slunk right up against him and purring contentedly in his chest, the white-haired adventurer jolted on the spot, immediately making to flee back to the bar and clear up any misunderstanding!

"Gh!"

Chloe's strength easily yanked him back.

"Nyahah, it's fine, it's fine, White Hair. There's no hurry, we're not busy at all tonight. That's why I got sent out to go pick up some stock. Mama Mia wasn't really missing Syr… Heheh… And so, she won't miss me, if I take a little bit longer with you…"

So saying, the black-haired catgirl's hands slithered their way down Bell's body, tracing a devious path all the way over his stomach, and around his waist, until, "Ghk!?" she took two big, greedy handfuls of his ass.

Immediately delighting herself with squeezing and massaging his butt, Chloe's head sank back to his shoulder with a heady sigh, and her face turned again to one of blissful contentment. The Black Cat, it seemed, was a woman of simple pleasures. Not quite sure about how he felt about this, but with his cock still straining -a little guiltily now- against the waitress's stomach, he tried to get the conversation back onto some kind of track.

"But then… If, er, if you haven't seen Syr at all, and I haven't seen her since midday. Something might have happened to her, Chloe-san! We need to go find her!"

"Nya, Syr isn't the kind to get herself into trouble," the waitress dismissed his worries with a shake of her head, "She'll be at that orphanage of hers."

"…Orphanage?"

As Chloe explained it, she'd gotten curious about where Syr went whenever she was skiving off work, so she'd followed after her one day (almost certainly skiving off work herself, Bell noted) and wound up trailing her to some run-down orphanage in the middle of Daedalus Street. It seemed that the grey-haired waitress visited regularly to look after a handful of destitute children.

He'd had no idea. She'd never mentioned a thing about that to him. And it sounded like she'd never said anything about it to the other waitresses either. It seemed to simply be a quiet and private act of charity for her.

And, given his own circumstances, it touched his heart just thinking about it. He couldn't help but be reminded of the way his Goddess had found him, down on his luck and slumped over in the street. Despite their very different personalities, both women had very powerful maternal sides to them. They'd both gone out of their way to reach a hand out to someone in need, to help the lost and the stray. Perhaps they were more alike than he'd imagined? He wanted to believe that the two of them would get along when they met.

"Well, I guess I'll just wait for her to get back," he still did need to explain things to Mama Mia, and he figured any lingering resentment could be smoothed over if he ordered some food.

"Then there's no hurry, nyaaa~"

"Chloe..?"

She didn't seem inclined to move one bit. He knew he could press the issue, she wouldn't hold him against his will… but, feeling her flush against him, Bell couldn't quite muster that resolve.

"You're a dangerous man, White Hair, nya… You're like capnip. I thought, I just wanted a little taste of you, nya, I thought I'd just tease you a little…" Chloe's already twisted desires began to twist once more. This wasn't what she'd expected at all, she'd thought she'd be satisfied just getting a hold of his ass… but instead, she could feel both her core and her heart, burning for more… "But now, nyaaaa! I feel like, I don't wanna lose to you at all!"

"Huh!? Lose to me?"

Releasing hold of his butt, her dextrous fingers slipped around his waist once more, and before he'd even realised what was happening, Bell's belt was flipped open, and his trousers were being slid down his hips!

"L-Last night, w-with your tongue! You made me go crazy so many times I lost count! I'm gonna pay you back!"

Reflexively grabbing his pants to prevent them from falling to the ground, he was left completely unable to stop the impulsive waitress as she eagerly tugged his underwear off from his length, and-

"Ah!"
"Mmmmmmmmm!"

Finally freed his cock from the tight confines it'd been straining against all this time, leaving it to bounce free into the air, and then into her greedy hands.

Chloe let out a delighted mewl the moment her fingers were once again wrapped around the pulsing heat of his shaft. Already standing at full mast thanks to her ministrations so far, the catgirl was yet again left marvelling in amazement as she felt the full weight and might of Bell's cock. Long enough that it could easily lay flat across her entire face, so thick and so hard that it took both her hands to fully wrap her fingers around it, and twitching with a hunger she could practically feel resonating through right to her very womb… It left her heart skipping a beat, and it left her lips wet with anticipation.

"Nya… Even though I could never forget something like this, it's still hard to believe… Despite having such a cute face, you're really manly here. It's so burly, nyaaa…"

Her thighs had been wet since the moment she'd pulled him into the alleyway, with her desire spilling out hotter and wetter with each moment she'd spent pushing herself against him. But now, looking down and seeing his massive cock twitching between her fingers, feeling the full heft of it throbbing against her hands… Chloe's mind was instantly sent back to the previous night, the way Syr had guided her through offering an "apology" to this man, and this cock…

The sensation of being on her knees before him, looking up at his length towering over her.
The way it had filled her mouth, the taste of him overwhelming all her other senses until it had filled her entire world.
The gentle guidance she'd received from Syr, how they'd brought him to pleasure together.
The soft moans and groans of delight they'd wrung out from him, side by side.

…And then…

"Nyaaaa…."

After that, everything that followed as a heady, dizzying rush of sensations, each of them flowing into the other and all of them carved deep within the Black Cat, right to her very soul.

She'd never imagined herself the submissive type. She hated losing, she hated fighting at a disadvantage, and she happily went out of her way to get revenge anytime she was bested.

But, the sheer delight she'd felt, kneeling obediently before him and servicing him to the very best of her abilities, the way she and Syr had both mewled and panted and moaned his name, was all engraved deep into the former-assassin's heart. And, more than anything else, the flood of pure bliss she'd felt, the unrestrained rush of ecstasy and victory that had thundered through her when Bell Cranel's seed had splattered across her skin… that was something Chloe Rollo knew she would never, ever forget. Even now, she could still easily remember the taste of it, thick and viscous in her throat. And she could still feel the warmth, the sheer domineering potency, the incredible thickness, deep and strong enough to drown all her other senses.

'How can you conquer her heart, if you won't cum on her face?'

She didn't know if Syr had been teasing with that incredible statement or not, but she knew -whether she liked it or not- that from the moment his very first load had coated her from her forehead to her chin, some small part of her heart had been irrevocably claimed by the white-haired Adventurer.

It was ridiculous! He hadn't even laid a hand on her, and she'd gotten off over and over again, just trying to please him! And then, after that, she'd practically fallen into a cum-drunk haze, and before she'd known it, she'd been on her back, with his tongue between her legs, and he'd made her cum so many times she'd passed out!

"Nyaaaa~"

The moment Chloe felt his cock once more, all those memories and all those sensations came rushing back through her, and with them, a fresh flood of her juices pooled within her panties and ran slick across her thighs. A dizzying heat washed over her body and her legs quivered, as if she felt some natural compulsion to fall to her knees before him once more.

But, the Black Cat didn't give up that easily! She'd crawled up from the gutter, cried bloody tears and fought her way through one of the darkest periods of Orario's history, even if she suffered a setback, Chloe Rollo wasn't that simple to take down!

Even if he was more experienced than her! Even if he had such a ridiculous, wonderful, delicious cock! Even if she'd already gotten off three times this morning just remembering the sensation of his cum splashing across her skin! She was going to turn the tables! She was going to make it clear, she wasn't part of his harem, he was part of hers!.

The waitress's tail swished from side to side as she began running her fingers up and down the length of his shaft, grinning eagerly as she felt him twitch and pulse, and as she heard his breath catch in his throat.

Of course, she didn't have any actual plan, but that was fine. She trusted in her abilities as an assassin, her instincts would be more than enough to bring this man to his knees!

"Gh-Ah, h-hey, Chloe?"

Her ministrations weren't anywhere near as skilled as his Goddess or Syr's, but the sheer confidence with which the black-haired catgirl began stroking his shaft had a delight all of its own.

Feeling her slender body pressed flush up against him, her exceedingly-modest chest grinding against his own, and her breath tickling over his skin was more than enough to excite every one of the now Level Two Adventurer's senses. The scent of her, the feeling of her, the pleasure he was feeling at her hands… No small part of him wanted to just lean back against the wall and savour her clumsy, enthusiastic delight!

…If only he wasn't currently standing in public, just a few meders from the main road!

They were in a secluded alleyway, out of sight from where anyone could see them, but there was absolutely nothing stopping anyone else from just passing by! Bell's desire for more warred furiously with his sense of shame!

"Hey, w-why, why don't we go inside?"

Inside where? He didn't have anywhere in mind, but probably anything was better than out in the middle of the city.

Chloe, of course, instantly seized upon any sign of weakness.

"Ohhhh… What's wrong? Have you never done it outside before?" Her teasing laughter tickled his senses and the excitement in her expression toyed with his desires, "Nnyaaa, that's fine White Hair, in that case, I'll happily take your first time!"

Her cheeks were blushing with the same shame as him, but her exhilaration was clearly conveyed by the way her hands began pumping up and down along his shaft, faster, harder, more greedily than before.

Bell's voice choked out in a gasp, "C-Chloe! Not here, this is-"

"Nyaaahahaha, it's fine, it's fine, White Hair! Look-"

So saying, the Black Cat suddenly released him, letting his cock bounce free into the air once more. Flying from sudden delight to a sudden stop, Bell's head spun in a whirl and his voice leaked out in another weak moan.

Unfortunately, not even an instant of relief awaited him at her abrupt showing of restraint, not with the way he could see her face practically glowing with a victorious smirk. With her ears pinned back and tail standing high, the waitress was the very picture of a cat toying with her prey!

"-I'll just do this! NGhg-Nyaaaa~"

Hitching her dress up over her hips, Chloe slunk herself forward, showcasing an incredible feat of her Level 4 agility to instantly wrap Bell's cock up between her bare thighs.

"Ah!"
"Nyaaaaaaaa."

The two lovers were pressed up tight together. Crossing one foot over the other, she was holding him securely between her legs, squeezing him softly but tightly in place as his cock slid against her now thoroughly soaked black panties. And, with her position secure, she then released her dress and wrapped her arms back around him once more.

As before, she had no plan at all, she was simply following her impulses. But, those same impulses had been hard won in brutal fights along the razor of life and death.
Even if she had no sexual experience, the Black Cat had absolute faith in her body!

"See? Now nobody can see anything, nya… So, stop thinking about anything else, and start being grateful a beauty like me is giving you such special service!"

"I am grateful."

"!?"

Once again, Chloe abruptly stopped in place. But, this time, it wasn't something she'd intended, instead, it was as if her entire body had suddenly jolted in the spot.

She wasn't a particularly humble woman. Just as she had great faith in her strength as a Level Four assassin, so too did she take full pride in her appearance. She didn't spend much time on makeup, or accessories, or the kind of facial-cremes that Syr liked so much, but she was still confident in herself as an attractive, alluring figure of any man's affection.

Unfortunately, whatever her own opinion on her appearance, reality hadn't been quite so kind.

Chloe had been in Orario for years now, and not only had her harem ambitions completely failed but she'd never managed to get even a single young boy chasing after her tail! She was 21 now, still a virgin, and still without a single guy that wanted to pamper her. The 'first kiss' that she'd finally gotten to experience after so many years had happened only after literally throwing herself at her friend's boyfriend, the only proper sexual encounter she'd ever had was thanks to that same friend. If it wasn't for Syr's unusual open-mindedness, she didn't know if she would have ever had a chance like she did now.

In short, her romantic life had been pretty pathetic. And unfortunately, Chloe's arrogance was as thin as her knives. She wasn't one of those blind fools who could never see reality, she was painfully aware of reality and put up a façade of strength to deal with it. That was how she had always been, even back in her darkest days, crawling along the muck and killing whichever filth her Goddess had sent her after. If she hadn't adopted an indifferent personality and a carefree way of talking, her heart wouldn't have been able to survive.

Chloe Rollo may not have been a particularly humble woman, but she was still a woman. When she called herself beautiful, her friends rolled their eyes. When she told Njörðr he should be proud to get to bear witness to her assassination-honed body when updating her status, he called her flat. But, when she told Bell Cranel he should be grateful for her attention… he agreed.

"Nya…"

"I am grateful, Chloe," he repeated, leaving not a trace of doubt, "I'm sure you could have any guy you wanted, and, I don't know what I've done to make you so interested in me, I don't know why you like me at all. But, I do appreciate it. I want to be worthy of it."

His gaze on her was completely level, utterly steadfast, without a hint of duplicity or humour. He wasn't teasing her, nor was he trying to seduce her, he was baring himself to her. It wasn't fair at all. It was an utterly merciless, unstoppable counterattack. Bell's simple honesty and good nature instantly destroyed all her defences and every one of the walls she put in place around her heart.

Her chest tightened and her womb throbbed hot.

The Black Cat melted instantly.

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak…. And, she couldn't possibly resist as his hands took a firm hold of her hips.

"I was going to the bar to see Syr, but I also wanted to see you, Chloe. And right now, you're the only one I'm looking at."

"NyaaaaaAAAHHH!?"

Punctuating his words with action, Bell thrust himself forward, sliding his cock roughly through the gap in her thighs. She cried out immediately, clinging to him even tighter and burying her head into his shoulder with a frenzied yowl.

Having never done anything like this before, he wasn't quite sure how he should be moving, and he was even less sure about doing something this blatant in public. It was certainly true that the waitress's outfit did manage to hide exactly what was going on… But with how tight she was wrapped around him, and with the way her dress was hitched up around his waist, he could only imagine how it would look to anyone that passed by.

Even so, Bell Cranel had already made up his mind. Chloe had gone well out of her way to appeal to him, she was wearing her heart on her sleeve. Rejecting her or running away from her just for the sake of his own unease would be nothing but cowardice. Alfia had told him time and time again, the time he spent enjoying himself on the surface was just as important to the time he spent honing his skills in the Dungeon. Tomorrow he would be going back into danger, which meant, today he should satiate himself as thoroughly as possible!

Holding tight to the catgirl's hips, Bell drove himself through her thighs again. And again. And again.

Faster. "N-Nyaaaa!"
Harder. "White! White Hair!"
Holding very little back at all. "Ngh, wa-wait, w-ait, I'm going crazy! Nya!"

Throwing himself against her, just as recklessly as she'd thrown herself against him, the Level Two Adventurer quickly built up to a powerful rhythm.

"Gh!"

It wasn't bad, actually!

It didn't feel anywhere near as good as being buried within his Goddess or Syr, but it certainly didn't feel half bad. There was an irresistible charm in feeling the way Chloe's warm thighs were wrapping and squeezing around him, how her legs shook and quivered with each thrust, and how she jumped and shivered with each time the sweet song of her pleasure rang out.

And, while it wasn't quite as enthralling as the real thing, because he wasn't actually having sex with her, there was no worry about him hurting her.
In the end, he was only thrusting his cock back and forth across her thighs, over her (desperately wet) pussy. It didn't matter how hard or how forcefully he slammed his hips forward, or how recklessly he pulled her waist towards his.

"Chloe!"

This time, it was Bell's lips that chased hers down, catching the suddenly overwhelmed waitress mid-gasp and stifling her moan with a kiss left an electrifying shiver running down the very length of her body. Her toes curled, her hands clenched tight, and the Black Cat cried out her delight directly into his mouth as she fell ecstatically into his embrace.

'Th-this wa-wasn't how it was supppppppooosed to go! Nyaaa!'

For her part, the catgirl waitress was long past any kind of rational analysis. Her thoughts were scattering further and more frantically with each time his cock rolled across her entrance, and with each time yet another surge of wet, heady warmth flooded out from her core, across every part of her body.

The pretty pink nipples atop her painfully flat chest were rock hard and practically sparking with delight as her exceedingly modest breasts rubbed against the fabric of her dress, as her body was ground in place against his.

Her tail felt like it was practically stuck bolt upright, hanging high in the air, jolting and quivering only as her body did, with each time another rush of dizzying bliss speared through her and with each time the white haze of pleasure washed completely through her senses.

Clinging tight around him, she moaned her delight directly into his mouth, falling deeper and deeper into the kiss as she pushed her body harder against his.

With his shaft held tight between her thighs and dragging directly across her pussy, she could feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as it slid against her. She could feel the heat and strength of his shaft, just how easily it spread open her pussy lips even beneath her panties. And she could feel just how eagerly, just how wantonly, and just how joyously her very soul seemed to ignite in reaction!

His cock wasn't even touching her directly, she was only feeling him through her panties.

So how in the world had she lost control so easily!?
Why was she the one clinging tight to him, quivering with lust and mewling with delight!?

Chloe was an expert assassin. She never fought fair, she never fought evenly, and she never went in without a plan. Running into Bell had been a coincidence, but suddenly ambushing him and dragging him away to overload him with affection was anything but! She'd planned out this exact encounter, or many other variations of it, hundreds of times in her head… late at night, while tossing and turning beneath her covers. And even a few dozen times in the shower when the warm water had been cascading over her and her thoughts had swirled away into fantasies.

And, this wasn't going anything at all like she'd imagined it!

She'd intended to seduce him and squeeze him. To hold him in place as he moaned and gasped and begged for more, watching as his face collapsed into blissful ecstasy and reminding him exactly why he wanted to be hers.

Instead, he was taking control, he was holding her tight, he was kissing her, and he was driving her absolutely crazy once more!

Of course, beneath the confines of her bedsheets, she'd made almost as many 'plans' about how Bell would pamper and please her after he'd happily joined her harem… But, this wasn't anything like that at all!

She was being pampered, her entire body was awash with heated delight.
She was being pleased, her head was spinning and her thoughts fragmented as fresh waves of delight speared through her.

But, this wasn't the soft and gentle adoration of a young boy acting just as she desired.
This was the powerful and greedy affection of a man doing whatever he wanted with her body.

Her dreams of squeezing young and firm butts felt far away.

Instead, just as it had yesterday, Chloe's world was filled only with simple reality.

The ecstasy that had left her brain half-melted last night, the pleasure that was driving her wild right now, none of it was anything like her fantasies. It was nothing but the sheer delight at having a man holding her firmly in place! It was the exhilaration that pounded in her chest at feeling just how powerfully he desired her! It was the joy of losing control, moaning and gasping and screaming and panting as she was sent careening through dizzying heights, again and again!

It was the exact same feeling she'd felt when she'd been on her knees, servicing him alongside Syr. When she'd felt her body flushing with heady delight just from savouring his cock or tasting his cum.

'No, no, no, th-this, this is bad, nya! Nn, if this keeps up, I'll never make him mine, nnyaaaa… I'll become his instead! I've got to-'

Heedless of the catgirl's internal struggles, Bell's cock slammed forward once more, griding roughly across her thoroughly soaked panties and spearing the full length of his shaft across her extremely-sensitive, painfully-virgin pussy.

"NyAAAAAAAA!"

Chloe came instantly!

Clinging desperately tight around him, breaking off their kiss only to shamelessly cry out her delight for anyone around to hear, the Black Cat completely gave in to another visceral, dizzying, long-awaited climax.

Bell didn't stop, he didn't even slow down. Holding tight to her waist, pulling her firmly against him, even as her body trembled and her voice rang out, he continued the same furious tempo, dragging his full length back and forth, across her flooded entrance, over and over and over again.

Mewling and moaning, crying and panting, gasping and cumming, Chloe completely gave in to the haze of pleasure!

'Nya… It's too… it's too gooooooood!'

She wasn't even trying to resist anymore, no longer even trying to put up a semblance of control. Holding him as tight as she could manage with her trembling hands, she simply squeezed herself around him, wrapped her thighs vice tight around his length, and rocked her hips back and forth in time with his thrusts.

'I want… I want more, nya… I want to feel it, I want to feel it properly!'

If she'd still had any scraps of her rationality or pride, Chloe would have been amazed at just how weak she was to this pleasure. This was the second time she'd found herself completely dominated by a man who was both several levels weaker and several years younger than her! She couldn't even blame Syr this time, she'd been the one to attack him, and she'd completely had the tables turned on her.

And with each thrust, with each time she swung her hips in response, and with each time her voice rang out… the desperate, hungry, yearning within her womb grew hotter and hotter.

No matter the agreement she had with Syr, the temptation to simply reach down and undo the side-ties to her slim black panties was staggering. With her agility, it wouldn't take more than a single turn of her hips to guide him inside, to, finally, feel him filling her. She could only imagine it. It already felt this amazing. He already had her world shaking this desperately. And he hadn't even put it in yet, this was all still just teasing, all still just a prelude.

What would happen to her then?

She'd seen the look of mind-broken ecstasy on Hestia's face. She'd heard Syr's wanton moans echoing through the walls. Somewhere deep inside, the Black Cat knew unquestionably, the way she was now, if she experienced the same, she would never be able to come back from it. Her harem dreams would be lost forever, and Chloe the assassin would become Bell Cranel's woman.

…That didn't sound so bad, really.
Being the pampered housecat to a fast-rising Adventurer had an appeal all of its own. That was exactly what Lunoire was looking for.

The temptation gnawed at every part of her with maddening intensity.

But, ultimately, as Chloe clung tight to the white-haired young man, and as she soared blissfully from peak to peak from his ministrations, it was a lifetime of hard-fought assassin's instincts that stayed her hand.

An incautious assassin was a dead assassin. Anyone who made a habit of jumping in the second they thought they saw an opportunity lived only as long as their luck allowed them. Coughing up blood and muck, she'd had that lesson beaten into her since childhood, and she'd seen countless deaths from other members of the same Familia that hadn't learned it quite as well as she had.

Even if she was barely thinking with any kind of rationality anymore, and even if her womb was practically begging to be filled with his seed, any temptation to take things further than this was instinctively squashed.

As with everything in her life, she would decide that with a plan. She would rig the scenario in her favour, strike first without warning, and do whatever it took to ensure her absolute victory.
(Although… some distant echoes on the very edge of her consciousness whispered… with this man, perhaps her absolute victory could be found even within unmitigated defeat…)

And so, Chloe's hands remained in place, tight around Bell's collar.
And, her voice cried out his name again and again.
And, once again, the Black Cat found herself drowned in pleasure.

And, in the end, by the time Bell's own release thundered through him, after he gasped aloud and painted her thighs with his seed, Chloe Rollo had -once again- completely lost count of just how many times he'd driven her to blissful madness.

Instead, she simply collapsed fully against his chest, her shaking legs barely able to keep her upright even with her Level Four status, and her dizzy orgasm-drunk mind just barely able to keep her from passing out, even with her lifetime of gruesome battles behind her. She didn't think about any of those things. Sight now, she wasn't an assassin, or a waitress, she was simply a woman; for just this little moment, she was one of Bell Cranel's women.

Her soft mewls echoed quietly into the air, and her sleek tail batted playfully back and forth against his leg.

"Nnnn… White Hair… Right now, I feel like I'm on top of the world, nya…"

No matter how he might have felt about the fact that he was currently leaning breathlessly against an unfamiliar wall, in a dilapidated alleyway, where anybody could pass by anytime, with his cock hanging free in the air and his girlfriend's close friend soaked in his cum… Bell couldn't do anything but smile happily at that.

"I'm glad."

---

Some time after, after Bell and Chloe had stumbled their way back down Orario's main road… and then gone back to collect the sack of potatoes she'd forgotten in the alley… The current Adventurer and former assassin finally made their way back into the Hostess of Fertility, pushing through the entrance with dazed smiles and slightly weak legs.

Just as the Black Cat had said, Syr was nowhere to be seen.

And, just as Bell had hoped, buying himself some of Mama Mia's (thankfully incredible) food was enough to deflect any of the Dwarf's ire away from him. The proprietress sighed, waved off his apology and told him it wasn't his fault "That stupid girl decided to just do whatever she wants."

Thankfully, being so early in the week, and after already celebrating the Denatus results just the previous night, most of the bar's clientele had already drunk their fill for now, so it was just as quiet as Chloe had said. Or, at least, as quiet as it was possible for such a famous tavern to be. Although only about a third of the tables were taken, the air was filled with the same warm, boisterous atmosphere as ever.

Having already made up his mind to wait for his girlfriend, Bell took up a table in the corner, intending to simply sit out of everyone's way, eat and drink quietly and pass the time until Syr decided to sneak back in.

That plan was altered however, when, after delivering his meal, Chloe immediately plopped herself down alongside him… and just as immediately began helping herself to his food…

"Nyaaa, Mama Mia's cooking is the best! Tastes even better after exercise, doesn't it, nya?"

Predictably, the other waitresses had a poor reaction to that idea.

"You damned lazy cat! You already took more than an hour on a single delivery! Get back to work!"

"Chloe. This is low, even for you. Please be warned that I shall be reimbursing Cranel-san for any food you eat and having Mama Mia deduct it from your salary."

Lunoire's voice was red hot, Ryu's was ice cold, and… thankfully Anya was stuck in the kitchen.

Having already had it thoroughly demonstrated just how foolish it was to mess with any of these waitresses, Bell couldn't help but quail slightly in his seat, waving his hands and trying to smooth things over.

"What's the big deal, nya?" Completely fearless, the Black Cat gave a lazy shrug and speared another meatball directly from atop his spaghetti, "You got to spend the whole night with White Hair yesterday, I'm just taking my turn, nya!"

"That was a party to celebrate him levelling up! I was invited!"

"Well then, this is a party too… Mmm, we're celebrating various things, nya! And, I'm inviting myself."

"Um, I'm… I'm okay with it? So long as, er, so long as Mia-san is… alright with it?"

Bell didn't want to get in the middle of the terrifying waitress's fight, but he didn't really have any objection to Chloe keeping him company.

"See, nya! It's not a problem, if it were, you think Mama Mia would stay cooped up in the kitchen?"

Chloe raised an important point. Surprisingly, the dwarven proprietress seemed to be letting her waitress's truancy slide. Even if they weren't particularly busy, it would typically be her that was storming out from behind the bar and dragging her staff back into line. The fact that she'd done nothing was practically a tacit approval.

Heaving a sigh, even the strict and serious Elf was forced to concede that point, "She probably just thinks it'll be a good punishment for Syr to make her jealous seeing you two like this. Such petty justification gives you no right to impinge on Cranel-san's hospitality."

"You heard him, he just said it was fine! I'm not impinging on anything, nya!" A meatball clad fork was waved back at the Elf's furious glare and Bell shrank further in his seat, regretting having said anything at all, "And since you've already said I'm paying for this stuff, I'll order some more food, and I'll take some wine too, nya!"

With a glare of marked disapproval frozen on her face, Ryu spun on her heel and stalked off. Whether more food would be coming or not was anybody's guess.

"Aha…"

"Well, then… Hmm!" Slamming her fist into her palm, Lunoire turned from where her comrade was going, back to where the truant catgirl seemed to be getting away with everything, "In that case, I'll join you too!"

"Huh?"

"It's only fair! Syr and Ryu got the evening off, and now you're spending another evening with Chloe? I want a turn too!"

Chloe laughed happily as her ridiculous self-invited party attained a reinforcement, and another of Bell's meatballs quickly disappeared as the blonde sat down alongside her friend, opposite to him. By now, his spaghetti was starting to look somewhat forlorn.

"So, Cranel-san," chomping happily away at what had once been his meal, the woman once known as the Black Fist addressed him directly, "We only really know what Syr's told us about you. How'd you wind up in Orario anyway?"

"Ah, well…"

And, with that light-hearted prompt, the three of them fell into conversation with surprising ease.

He told them about his past, the tiny countryside town where he'd grown up with his Grandfather and his mother's sister, about the stories he'd been told about Adventurers and the Dungeon city, and how he'd set off after his Grandfather's death.

They laughed with both good humour and sympathy when he described his initial troubles finding a Familia, how he'd been turned down high and low, and how it was the Goddess Hestia who had found him on the side of the road, lost and forlorn, before being the one to finally take him under her wing.

As he told the two waitresses about himself and his past, Ryu arrived once more, with both a very displeased look on her face and a full armload of dishes to pass out around the table. Although, much to the Black Cat's consternation, the Elf did take pains to point out that Lunoire's portion would also be coming out of Chloe's salary.

From there, eating and drinking and talking earnestly, Bell told them about his time in the Dungeon and the adventures he'd found himself on so far.

The terror he'd felt being stalked by the Minotaur, how desperately he'd raced to save Lilli from the Killer Ants, the way reckless sense of determination that'd seen him throwing himself against two Minotaur at Level One. And, all the while, even as he discussed the horrors and dangers of the Dungeon, and even as he admitted just how foolishly he'd signed up to put his life on the line without truly understanding what that meant, he also made sure to explain the allure the Labyrinth held all the same: The mystical and beautiful seen through the dark caverns lit by magic stones, the feeling of constant advancement and success where you could see yourself growing just a little stronger every day, the rush of excitement of magic… all the things that kept bringing him back to the Dungeon and kept him on the same path he'd been running nonstop all this time.

To the retired Bounty Hunter and the former Assassin, it was a shockingly understandable story.

Lunoire knew very well the allure of feeling yourself getting just a little stronger day after day, as well as the heady rush from facing down strong opponents with reckless determination.
Chloe understood to her core the terror that was fleeing at full speed from a foe that was far stronger than you'd even imagined, as well as the understanding that you'd gotten yourself well and truly over your head.

Both women had seen Bell when Syr and Heith had dragged him in. That had been after he'd been healed, and he'd still looked barely more than a few steps from death.

And they each knew that feeling very well. They knew it better than he did. The sense of being crushed down to your very knees, of coughing up blood and scraping along the ground just to keep crawling through the muck and the pain, just to stand up one more time, to keep going just a little longer… That was a feeling neither of them would ever forget. That was the life they'd each lived, over and over, again and again, until all light and all purpose in their lives had gone out.

But, Bell Cranel wasn't like that, he wasn't like them.

And, as both waitresses leaned forward onto their elbows, listening to his stories with warm smiles and rapt attention, they realised he wasn't anything like the other Adventurers they'd heard boasting of their exploits either.

Working in a famous bar at the heart of the legendary Dungeon City, they'd each heard countless boasts from men, women, Elves, Dwarves, animalpeople, Prums, or anything else. Even without ever asking, it was impossible not to hear about huge feats, glorious victories, tall tales, or heroic exploits. After a while, they all just mashed together.

But somehow, hearing this greenhorn Adventurer telling them about the placed he'd seen and fought his way through, the exhaustion he'd felt fighting consecutive battles, the shock of having a monsters appear from the walls all around him, about the dark hallways and twisting corridors he'd walked through and the rumours he'd heard about what lay still deeper below… it felt refreshing.

None of it was particularly incredible and none of it should have been especially interesting, the big victories he'd won paled in comparison to half the stories that got told by half the patrons of this bar any given day of the week, and yet, Chloe and Lunoire both found themselves thoroughly entertained. He wasn't trying to impress them, or to try win their favour, he wasn't even boasting, half his stories were more pathetic than they were impressive… Bell was simply recounting his everyday life. He was simply, earnestly, openly sharing something he was passionate about.

That passion, especially, was unmistakable. Listening to him shamelessly recounting the time he got lost for several hours on the fourth level, both waitresses shared a knowing smile. Even after just speaking to him for this long, it was impossible not to understand exactly what Syr had meant when she'd complained that "All Bell cares about is Dungeons, Dungeons, Dungeons!"

And, as the hours ticked by, as the food and drink flowed and as young Adventurer's stories tapered off, the two waitresses found themselves filling the air themselves.

Neither had intended to.
Nor had either of them ever talked about their past lives like this before.

But, watching the way Bell's eyes lit up as Lunoire described a thrilling chase atop castle battlements, or when Chloe whispered about skulking her way through a fortress undetected, they couldn't help themselves. Surrounded by a warm atmosphere, filled with delicious food and quality alcohol, and given an utterly rapt audience… slowly at first, but then more and more as time ticked by, they each found themselves sharing more and more of their past… drawn in by the excitement shining in his eyes, they couldn't help themselves!

Chloe embellished her stories shamelessly. She trimmed off the dark edges and shied away from the dark places. She told him about courageous fights against evil, about secret missions under moonlight and about rescuing an entire warehouse of young children from pitiless slavers.

She didn't tell him the name she'd been known by (that she still resented having), or about the poisons, the traps and the blades in the dark. She didn't tell him that the exciting fights of her stories were also the most desperate ones, the ones where her plan had gone wrong and she was fighting just to stay alive another second. She didn't tell him that her successful plans almost always involved targets that were killed in their bed, or without any possible chance of preparing themselves. She didn't tell him that when she killed evil people, it was always on orders from other evil people.

But, even if her stories weren't unvarnished truth, they were still the truth, and they were still her stories. They'd been a secret until now, held tight within her (pitifully modest) chest, none to almost none beyond her Goddess and her Employers.

They weren't something Chloe looked back on happily, and when she considered the sludge that had filled up her soul before finding her way to this bar, she would probably have had numerous regrets. And yet, somehow, looking at the way Bell stared at her in amazement, she found herself smiling, laughing and simply enjoying telling them.

Lunoire was no different. Just like her personality, her stories were incredibly straightforward and far more concerned with getting right to the action. She didn't have any impressive tales about rescuing a group of children from salvers, but she had countless anecdotes of her life as a street urchin, fighting in turf wars against other gangs of children, and she had even more stories of herself as an adult, chasing down and capturing dangerous outlaw before dragging him back to face justice before the authorities.

Just the same, the rough edges were sanded off from her retellings too. She didn't talk about the feckless God she'd served who'd used his followers like pawns and staged a revolution for fun, nor about how her Familia had collapsed from infighting. She didn't tell him about drifting from Familia to Familia, how she'd joined one after another only to find her rough attitude left her resented by the people who should have become her comrades.

But, even if her stories were simplified and mostly just about exciting fights, they were still her own experiences. They had never been a secret, but they'd also never been something she'd ever had anyone to talk to about.

Before coming to the bar, Lunoire had been alone for a long, long time, never able to fit and never able to find a place to belong. Living through Orario's dark days with that solitude had been a poison that had eaten away at her soul, and now that she'd finally found a place to call home those memories had become almost stained black in her mind. And yet, surprising herself most of all, with a whole table of free food and with Bell's eager attention, she found herself having a lot of fun recounting them.

In the heart of both the former Black Fist and the once Black Cat, the exact same sentiment echoed-

'This feels pretty nice...'

---

Meanwhile, back home in the basement of an abandoned church, Alfia was sitting on the bed, staring at the bottle before her with an extremely conflicted look on her face.

'I went ahead and brought it…'

Despite herself and despite her many, many, misgivings, she'd gone out and purchased herself another bottle of wine.

Alfia liked wine. She liked luxury and she liked indulgence. Even if she was far from any kind of luxury and even if she could hardly indulge in anything but the most modest varieties, being back in Orario still meant she had access to a far wider selection of vintages than had ever graced the markets of the small countryside town Meteria had holed herself up in.

There was just one problem. Just one issue that had made her almost tempted to forgo alcohol entirely.

For some reason, whenever she drank, Bell and Hestia seemed to think she was drunk enough to sleep through practically anything.

And, the anything that they seemed to imagine she would sleep through would typically include a lot of barely muffled moans, shuddering gasps, the heated sound of flesh on flesh, and even the sounds of a (laughably) Virgin Goddess seemingly trying to suck Bell's soul out via his cock!

It was humiliating! It was mortifying! The two of them were like rabbits in heat! Even if she had encouraged them to get together, she'd never intended them to do so right beside her!

And it left Alfia in an exceedingly awkward position. She couldn't simply tell them the truth, doing that would mean admitting what she'd already heard… what she'd already seen…

An image from a few days ago rose in her mind at that thought, the sight of Hestia, Vestal Goddess, naked, panting and bent over the broken altar above them. And with it came the memory of Bell that she'd seen right behind his Goddess, the sight of his bare body in a way she'd never seen it before. The power and strength in his arms, holding his woman upright. His lithe figure and toned musculature. That fleeting glance she'd seen of something absolutely incredible between his legs…

!

Scowling furiously, Alfia immediately banished that memory, just as she had so many times before.

There was no way she could tell them. Her pride refused to even let her consider it. The Maiden of Silence would remain as steadfastly silent as ever before.

That was why she'd decided to simply forsake buying more alcohol until they'd moved into more suitable accommodation.

And yet… sitting imperiously before her, utterly indifferent to the myriad worries running through her, was a brand-new bottle of wine.
It had been a purely impulsive decision, one against all her better nature. She regretted it already; she was sure she would regret it more later.

Despite the conflicted look on her face, the silver-haired woman made no effort to hide, remove or discard the bottle. Nor did she try tell herself something like 'I just won't have any, I'll leave it for those two.'
Instead, she left it right where it was. And right beside it, sat three glasses.

Her adorable and beloved Bell should be home soon.
And Hestia would follow shortly after.

The tiny Goddess delighted in alcohol just as much as Alfia did, and she delighted in free alcohol even more shamelessly. No doubt as soon as she returned from work, the cork would be popped, the wine would flow, and then…

'Why in the world did I buy this..?'

---

Bell Cranel - Level 2

[Rabbit's Foot]

[Liaris Freese] Rapid growth. Continued desire results in continued growth. The strength of the effects corresponds with the level of the user's feelings.
[Eternal Pledge to the Goddess of the Hearth] Greatly improved fire resistance. Additionally, provides a temporary Status increase when defending loved ones. The strength of the effects corresponds with the level of the user's feelings. Effects are reversed if the pledge is broken.
[Argonaut] Executes automatically with an active action.

[Sagitta Sonus] Swift Strike Magic

---

A/N: Man, I really do have so much fun writing Syr in these chapters. It's all just so devious… She's absolutely benevolent, she's helping him immensely, she's utterly sincere and earnest with both her love and affection… And none of that stops her from lying her ass off right to his face, again and again. The duality of Freya's kindness and selfishness really does make her fun to write. Similar to Cassandra's absolutely lewd shamelessness, Hörn's mix of love and hate, or Hestia's currently ridiculous status as a Vestal Goddess…

Just a fun chapter in general really! I wanted to still follow along with canon enough to make sure that Welf joined the group, I love Welf, and I absolutely wanted to have him around. But it's also fun to mix things up, so Hörn's gonna be joining the adventure as well! She's excited! Well, maybe not, but she's complaining less than you'd have thought. That's a positive, no?

And here we see more of Freya's plans. She's sick of having to avoid Hestia's gaze when she's with Bell as Syr, and she understands how untenable it's gonna be to keep that act up if he's truly going to build a harem, but she doesn't want to remove Hestia, nor does she dare provoke Alfia's wrath… So just what does she intend? Well, you can probably make some pretty clear guesses now. I think it'll be fun.

In other news, I'm very regularly active on a small Lewd Fanfiction Discord server. Whether you write yourself, or just read my stories, if you'd like to drop by and hang out, you're very welcome: discor(d.g)g/Caecazj8

Anyway, this chapter was posted first on my SubscribeStar a week ago, so if you want to read these chapters as soon as they're done, that's the place to be! Otherwise, if you just want updates about how the stories are coming along, want to support me in getting these chapters out faster, or just want to explain how Ryu should be the next atop Bell's cock, then that's the place to be!

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