---
Hello! Here's a new chapter. I really put a lot of effort into this one because I just reached 100 followers on my Wattpad profile. Yay!
Remember that you can support me by donating to my Patreon.
pa t /reon.com / The gamer 2403 (Erase the spaces)
Thanks to LimX23 for being the beta reader and quality supervisor of this chapter.
---
Bell laid face down on the bed in the new mansion, his jacket lifted and his muscles tense from the unmistakable sensation of Hestia's fingers running down his back. It was a ritual he knew by heart, but that day it carried a different weight. He had made a decision: to finally Level Up.
Hestia, sitting atop of him, maintained absolute concentration. Her small fingers moved with precision, tracing the divine characters that revealed the truth of his growth. The light shone faintly with a bluish hue, expanding and settling on Bell's skin as if burned into it.
Suddenly, the Goddess paused and spoke softly, though her tone left no doubt as to how important it was.
"Bell-kun, before I show you your new Status, I must ask you something. When you Level Up, you can choose a new Development Ability. You have three options: Abnormal Resistance,Magic Resistance, and Swordsman. Which would you choose?"
Bell thought for a moment. With a determined gleam in his eyes, he replied:
"I want Abnormal Resistance, please."
Hestia looked at him in surprise for a moment, then smiled sweetly, as if she approved of his choice.
"Understood. So that'll be your new Development Ability. Now then… watch, Bell-kun."
He lifted the sheet of parchment on which the transcription of his Falna was imprinted, still fresh, and placed it before his eyes. Bell sat up slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and read.
Bell Cranel
Level 4
Strength: SSS1500 → F374
Endurance: SSS1500 → F311
Dexterity: SSS1500 → F322
Agility: SSS1500 → F321
Magic: SSS1500 → E459
[Magic];
Explosion: Swift-Strike Magic. Generates a powerful explosion with the user at its epicenter.
Incarnatio Caelestis: Generates a magical construct based on a Deity. Requires the permission/favor of the named Deity. The construct varies depending on the invoked God or Goddess.
"[God], dispel all my doubts."
"I beseech your help to protect the innocent and repel all evil."
"By your grace, offset the scales and bring us victory."
"For the flame of our friendship burns without end."
"Grant me a boon weaved from our bonds."
"Incarnatio Caelestis!"
[Skills];
[Loved By The world]: The world loves you. Generate Divine Blessings based on your needs.
…
…
…
[Development Abilities];
Spirit Healing - G
Strong Body - H
Abnormal Resistance - I
Bell swallowed, his eyes scanning the lines again and again. The number at the beginning, that Level 4, shone brightly in his mind, like a new milestone achieved.
"You did it," Hestia said, smiling sweetly. "No, more accurately, we did it. You went up another Level."
Bell couldn't help but smile back. A warm pride surged through his chest, a fire that seemed to ignite his bones. He'd fought with everything he had, risked his life countless times, and now the effort was embodied there. Another step on his path to becoming a hero.
"Yes… we did it." His voice came out almost a whisper. He closed his fists, clenching them tightly, as if he could trap that emotion and not let it escape.
But along with the excitement came something else. A strange feeling, difficult to describe, as if an invisible weight were pressing down on him. Pride mingled with unease, a pang in his stomach he couldn't ignore.
Hestia noticed his unease immediately. She was so close to him that she could read his face like an open book.
"Bell-kun? What's wrong? Aren't you happy?"
Bell blinked, unsure. "Yes, I am. Of course I am. It's just…"
He broke off. The air in the room seemed to vibrate, heavy. And then, he felt it. A distant glow filtered through the window, a flash so intense it even lit up the sky as if it were broad daylight. It was impossible to ignore. Bell and Hestia turned around at the same time.
A pillar of light rose on the horizon, vast, burning, like a torch piercing the heavens.
Hestia's eyes widened in horror. She immediately shot out of the bed, her hands shaking.
"It can't be…!" She exclaimed.
Bell sat up too, his heart sinking. He knew that glow; everyone in Orario knew it. It was the absolute, irrefutable sign: the death of a God in the Mortal World.
"It can't be…" Hestia repeated, clutching her chest. "It hasn't even been three days since the last pillar of light!"
The memory of the first pillar was still fresh. The shock of seeing Divinity expelled from the world, of feeling the disruption of order. And now, so suddenly, another sign. Another God had fallen.
Bell gritted his teeth. The pride he'd felt a moment before vanished, replaced by a suffocating anguish.
"Someone…" he murmured, his gaze fixed on the column of light. "Someone is killing Gods."
Hestia looked at him in panic. "That's not normal, Bell. No one would do something like that! Killing a God is the worst thing there is; it upsets the balance, it defies all the Heavens."
"And yet, someone is doing it."
The silence that fell afterward was heavy, suffocating. They both understood what it meant: someone in the Mortal World had decided that rules didn't matter, that the Gods were fair game.
Bell turned to Hestia, frowning. The thought pierced him like a poisoned arrow. If someone was killing Gods, then… How safe was she?
He stood up completely, clenching his fists. "Goddess… this is dangerous. Much more than I thought. If someone is capable of killing a god without caring about the consequences… then you could be at risk as well."
Hestia blinked in surprise. Then she shook her head, trying to dismiss it. "Don't say that. I… I'm just me. No one would notice a Goddess like me. I have no influence, no power."
"That's precisely why!" Bell raised his voice, unable to contain his anguish. "If that person doesn't distinguish, if they only see the Gods as prey… it doesn't matter who you are. They'll try."
His words echoed in the room. Bell stared at her with desperate intensity, as if trying to impress upon her the seriousness of the danger.
For a moment, the Goddess of Hearth didn't know what to say. She bit her lower lip, hesitating, because deep down, she felt that fear too.
Bell shifted his gaze back to the pillar of light, still shining on the horizon. He could feel it throughout his skin, like a threat that stretched all the way to Orario. The pride of having reached Level 4 paled before the sight. There was no point in getting stronger if he couldn't protect what he loved most.
He placed a hand on the window frame, taking a deep breath. His heart burned with determination, but also with an icy fear he hadn't felt in a long time.
"I promised to protect you, Hestia-sama." His words were firm, determined. "And I will, no matter who is behind this."
Behind him, Hestia looked at him with large, moist eyes, moved by the determination that surrounded him. She wanted to tell him not to carry so much weight, not to take everything on his shoulders, but the words died in her throat.
Because the truth was that Bell was right. There was someone out there who wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty with the forbidden. And if she kept this up, there was no guarantee she wasn't in his sights.
The pillar's glow was still there, towering, like an open wound in the sky. Bell stared at it, frowning, his mind filled with only one thought: no matter who it was, how strong it was, or what its motives were, he wouldn't let it reach her.
The pride of his new Level hadn't entirely faded. Now it was a reminder, a new weapon, a sign that he was better prepared for whatever was coming. Because what was coming wasn't just another challenge in the Dungeon. It was a threat to the Gods themselves.
And he wouldn't let his Goddess pay that price.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his concentration.
"Mikoto, come in," Hestia said, looking up.
The samurai entered, frowning, her eyes blazing with alarm. "Hestia-sama, did you see the pillar of light?"
Hestia sighed, as if she'd been expecting that very question. "Yes, I saw it. And we can't pretend it didn't happen. It's time for an emergency meeting."
Mikoto nodded firmly. "Understood."
Within minutes, the Hestia Familia mansion was filled with hurried footsteps and tense faces. Lena came down the stairs, her hair still a bit messy from having stood up suddenly; Haruhime arrived with a serenity that contrasted with the latent fear in her eyes, while Mikoto sat next to them at the center table. Hestia took the head of the table, with Bell on her right.
The atmosphere was dense. No one spoke, waiting for the goddess to begin.
Finally, Hestia clasped her hands on the table and with a seriousness that belied her usual warmth, she spoke: "What we have seen is unquestionable. There is a Godslayer on the loose in Orario."
A chill ran through the room. Lena clutched the fabric of her skirt. Haruhime twitched her ears nervously. Bell looked down for a moment.
"We must decide our course of action immediately," Hestia continued. "We can't just stand idly by."
"Obviously, the first thing is to protect you, Goddess."
"Obviously, the first thing is to protect her, Hestia-sama."
Bell and Lena's voices echoed simultaneously, almost word for word, as if they had been rehearsed beforehand. The silence that followed was filled with surprise. They both looked at each other, puzzled, a slight blush rising in their cheeks at the coincidence.
"I see we're all in agreement on that at least," Hestia said with a slight smile, though her eyes were still filled with concern.
"U-uh… yeah," Bell muttered, looking away uncomfortably.
Lena scratched the back of her neck nervously, as if trying to hide her embarrassment at having agreed so exactly with him.
Mikoto raised her hand timidly, as if she were in a classroom. "Hestia-sama… with your permission… I would like to make sure Takemikazuchi-sama is okay."
Hestia tilted her head, her expression softening. "That's a good idea, Mikoto. Not only was he your God, but he's also a good friend of mine. Take… deserves to be safe."
The little Goddess crossed her arms, thoughtful. "In fact, we could all go see it. Joining forces, at least among our Familias, will give us some peace of mind."
"Everyone?" Mikoto asked, blinking in surprise.
"Yes, everyone," Hestia affirmed, then calmly added, "Except you, Bell." The silence that fell afterward was heavier than any words.
"Eh…?"
Bell couldn't believe what he was hearing. Just moments before, he'd sworn that he'd never allow anything to happen to his Goddess. And now she was excluding him?
Hestia looked at him sweetly, though her voice remained firm. "A new Level 4 like you can be of great help on another front. I'm sure Hermes or even Ouranos are already investigating. If anyone can get to that Godslayer… it's you."
"L-Level 4?"
A surprised gasp escaped Mikoto's lips, and her eyes widened. "But Bell-dono had just recently reached Level 3! Did you... did you already Level Up again?"
Hestia smiled proudly. "That's right. Bell is now Level 4."
Mikoto gulped. "Amazing… what speed…"
Haruhime clasped her hands in her lap and smiled softly, though her eyes held a glimmer of concern. "Bell-sama… each step he takes seems heavier than the last. But still, he keeps moving forward."
Lena, for her part, looked at the albino with a mixture of admiration and some discomfort. She couldn't deny that the power gap between them was becoming increasingly evident.
Bell, however, felt no pride. Only a knot in his chest. "But… I should stay with you. Protect you, Hestia-sama. It's what I promised."
The Goddess gently shook her head. "I'm already surrounded by my Familia. But there's someone out there who isn't afraid of the consequences of killing a God. Do you understand what that means, Bell?"
Bell remained silent. Yes, he understood. A God killed was no small matter. Someone who could do that, without fear of eternal damnation, was someone who walked outside all rules, outside all reason.
"It's not that I don't want you by my side," Hestia continued, her voice taking on a maternal tone, almost as if speaking to a small child. "It's that right now the best place for you is out there. Investigating. Looking for answers. Because if we let this killer run free… there will be no safe place for me or anyone else."
Bell clenched his fists. He wanted to argue, to insist, to promise once more that he would protect her. But Hestia's gaze stopped him. That mix of tenderness and determination… the same one she used when she wanted him to eat well, when she forced him to rest, when she hugged him after a defeat.
It wasn't just an order. It was his Goddess's absolute faith in him.
Finally, Bell bowed his head. "I understand."
Hestia smiled sweetly and reached out to gently stroke his hair. "That's better. I trust you."
Bell closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. The conflict in his chest didn't disappear, but something about that touch managed to calm him.
Mikoto stood up first, ready to leave. "Then we'll leave to see Takemikazuchi-sama immediately."
"Yes," Hestia said. "If anything happens… Bell will come looking for us."
Haruhime nodded, though not without concern. "Please, Bell-sama… take care of yourself as well."
Lena gave him a serious look. "Don't die like that, Bell. If something happens to you… Hestia-sama won't be able to handle it."
Bell smiled faintly, though his gaze remained determined. "I'll be back. I promise."
And so, as the Hestia familia prepared to depart for Takemikazuchi's dojo, Bell was left with a new weight on his shoulders. A Level 4 Adventurer, an emerging Hero, investigating the shadows of the Godslayer.
His heart was beating rapidly, torn between the anguish of leaving Hestia and the certainty that now more than ever he had to prove himself worthy of the faith she placed in him.
…
Bell ran quickly, his footsteps echoing against the stone as the Artemis Spear gently tapped against his back with each movement. His breathing was steady, firm, his gaze fixed on the path leading him to the Guild. In his mind, Artemis's serene voice accompanied him.
"The first thing would be to find Ouranos in the Guild. If anyone knows what's going on with those pillars, it would be him," the Moon Goddess advised from the Spear.
Bell nodded mentally. "Understood."
But just as he was about to turn onto the main avenue, a female voice broke the air.
"Bell!"
The young man stopped dead in his tracks, turning around immediately. His heart leapt when he saw who it was. Syr. Or rather… Freya. He saw the confirmation instantly: that glowing number above her head, 95, gave it all away.
She approached with the same sweetness as always, her smile light as if the tension of the city didn't exist. Bell, reflexively, smiled back, though his own was much more laced with concern.
"What are you doing here? It's not safe to walk the streets…" he murmured softly, careful to make his tone sound more like a loving rebuke than a command.
Syr tilted her head slightly, her gray eyes shining with a playful tinge. "Don't worry, Bell. Nothing's going to happen to me."
Before he could respond, she darted forward and hugged him tightly. Bell blinked, surprised, but his arms automatically wrapped around her. It was warm, familiar… and for a few seconds, he allowed himself to reciprocate.
Until he felt it.
Syr wasn't just holding him: she was inhaling his scent, burying her face against his neck as if she wanted to engrave him deep within her.
"W-wait…" Bell tensed, heat rising suddenly to his cheeks. He took a step back, carefully distancing himself from her, though firmly enough to create distance.
"Bell?" Syr looked up, a hint of protest in her voice, as if something precious had just been taken from her.
He looked away, still blushing, but with his lips pressed into a serious line. "That… isn't right."
The air between them grew heavy. Syr, or Freya, slowly lowered her arms, looking at him with a mixture of tenderness and suppressed hurt. But there was something else in her eyes, something Bell refused to acknowledge yet: an obsession that wouldn't fade even with his rejection.
Bell still maintained a certain distance from Syr, trying to regain his composure after withdrawing from that overly intimate embrace. He was about to ask her if she knew anything about the pillars when, suddenly, a translucent interface appeared before his eyes.
[It smells like blood.]
Bell froze.
"What…?" he murmured, instinctively lowering his gaze and inhaling sharply. He detected nothing. The air outside was clean, barely permeated with the scent of earth and smoke coming from the nearby chimneys. But that message wasn't accidental. His [Divine Blessing of Context] rarely activated without reason.
Then another picture emerged, almost answering his thoughts.
[Divine Blessing of the Bloodhound]: Greatly improves your sense of smell and olfactory abilities, allowing you to detect scents and odors with 100% accuracy.
Suddenly, his lungs filled like never before. Every breath felt different. It was overwhelming, but also fascinating.
Bell took a couple more deep breaths and then he felt it.
A trace. Faint, almost imperceptible. But it was there. A strong metallic smell. The smell of blood.
The color drained from his face. He swallowed, slowly turning his head as he tried to trace the source. His sense of smell guided him precisely, like an invisible arrow pointing to a single point.
The metallic scent came from Syr.
Bell froze, his breath coming in short gasps. He quickly looked her up and down, searching for a cut, a stain, anything that might account for that smell. But there was nothing. Her clothes were spotless, her hands clean, her smile as gentle as ever.
And yet… it reeked of blood.
A knot formed in his stomach. He didn't know what to feel. Part of him wanted to worry, to ask if she was hurt, if something had happened to her. Another, much darker part of him shuddered at the thought that the trace wasn't his, but someone else's.
"Bell?" Syr's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She looked at him with some confusion, tilting her head as if she didn't understand why he had suddenly paled. She took a step forward.
Bell almost stepped back.
He tried to smile, at least pretend normality, but his lips trembled and the gesture remained a nervous grimace.
The scent of blood was so close, as if the air had become thick, dense, impossible to ignore. He tried to swallow to regain his composure, but the movement in his throat was so evident that Syr, who was constantly observing the details, tilted his head in a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Bell… what's wrong?" she asked softly, taking a step closer to him.
The young Adventurer tensed. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, and he knew instantly that he couldn't show her his suspicions. He couldn't accuse her without proof. He took a deep breath, once again filled with that metallic scent that reminded him of open wounds, of dungeon fights. His stomach lurched.
"No-nothing," he finally replied awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm just… tired. That's all."
Syr's smile softened, but her eyes seemed to bore even deeper into him, as if trying to read him, knowing clearly that her Odr was lying. Bell quickly looked away and looked for a way out, any topic that would divert the focus.
"Actually… I wanted to ask you something. Before you found me here, where were you? What were you doing?"
He said it as naturally as he could, but even he noticed how artificial it sounded. Syr, however, responded without hesitation:
"I was working at the Hostess of Fertility."
An invisible picture immediately appeared before his eyes, and with it, the brutal sting of a truth that tore harder than any sword.
[LIE.]
Bell felt a blow to his stomach, so strong he nearly lost his balance. His mind began to rapidly piece together the pieces: the pillar of light that had just appeared, the scent of blood that permeated Syr, the blatant lie he'd just uttered without flinching. It all came together in a terrifying conclusion.
Freya had done something.
Something terrible.
Maybe… she had even killed someone.
And with the pillar of light having just occurred, it was almost impossible not to connect the dots. His breathing quickened. The air, once so rich and clear thanks to his new Divine Blessing, now felt suffocating, as if each breath choked him further.
"The entire world…" he thought in despair, "the sky is falling."
Everything he'd experienced with Syr... with Freya—the shared laughter, the conversations in the tavern, the warmth of that embrace in which she seemed so human, so close—crushed before him like a sandcastle battered by the waves. Betrayal seared into his chest.
His legs buckled. Dizziness suddenly enveloped him, forcing him to lean against the nearest wall.
"I need… I need to sit down."
The voice came out barely above a whisper, but his steps led him staggering to a nearby alley. There, an abandoned wooden box served as a makeshift seat. He fell onto it, his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands, as if by doing so he could stem the storm raging inside him.
Syr followed immediately. She'd seen Bell fight impossible Monster, come back from defeat time and time again, but she'd never seen him like this. His body trembled slightly, and beyond the physical, she could feel it: Bell's soul.
She had always seen the unique brilliance of his soul, a pure white light that had amazed her. But now that light didn't fade or burn out like that time, long ago, when she had seen him almost succumb to despair. No. What she witnessed was different: a radiance that seemed to convulse, vibrating chaotically, as if it didn't know whether to expand or collapse.
Freya, behind Syr's mask, opened her eyes in wonder and fear. Not even in the millennia she'd lived had she seen anything like it.
"Bell…" she whispered, approaching slowly. "What's wrong? You're scaring me."
Bell barely lifted his head, his red eyes glassy, sweat dripping down his forehead. He wanted to scream at her that he knew the truth, that she couldn't fool him, that the scent of her blood betrayed her, and that his Divine Blessings had exposed her lies. But the words stuck in his throat. He didn't know if it was from fear of the answer... or from fear of himself, from what he felt at that moment.
Because between the rage and disappointment, there was another emotion that tore at him even more: worry. The irrational thought that maybe Syr was hurt, that maybe that smell of blood was hers, that maybe he was losing someone else.
It was absurd, and he knew that. And yet, his heart ached at the prospect.
Syr knelt in front of him, trying to meet his gaze.
"Please, look at me," she pleaded in a trembling voice. "Don't walk away from me like that."
Bell gritted his teeth and turned his face away. He couldn't. He couldn't look at her without feeling the ground beneath his feet disappear. The contradiction was tearing him apart: the woman to whom he had opened his heart, even a little, could be the same Goddess behind the tragedy that had struck Orario.
His breathing became ragged and labored. Sweat trickled down his temples.
'This… this feeling…' Syr/Freya thought, terrified. 'What's happening to his soul? Am I the one causing it?'
She reached out a trembling hand, trying to place it on Bell's shoulder to reassure him. But as soon as she was about to touch him, he flinched, as if the mere touch were intolerable.
"No!" The word came out in a gasp.
Syr pulled her hand back instantly, as if she'd been burned. The rejection pierced her more than any wound. And yet, she couldn't leave him there, sunk in that abyss.
"Bell, I… I'm here," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, even though fear was gnawing at her insides. "No matter what happens, I want you to trust me."
The young man finally looked at her, his eyes burning with a mixture of fury and pain. Unspoken words crowded his throat, but for now he could only manage a hoarse murmur:
"So… tell me the truth."
Freya opened her mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some twist of phrase that would disguise the truth. But Bell, his eyes fixed on her, gave her no room.
"No."
His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Don't try to ask me what I mean. You and I know exactly what I'm talking about. Were you…?"
The silence that followed was so heavy that the distant murmur of the city seemed to die away. Syr stood still, her lips parted, her large eyes trembling. For a moment she seemed to resist, but then, as if her strength had left her, her face darkened. Her voice, so low it was barely a whisper, broke the inevitable.
"Yeah…"
One word. Enough to destroy everything.
Bell felt the world shatter inside his chest. It was as if that confirmation had opened a wound deeper than any sword cut. His trust, the trust he'd fought to deliver to the Goddess of Beauty disguised as a waitress, crumbled like shattered glass.
He shot up from the box he was sitting on. His breathing was quickening, and his hands were shaking, not from fear, but from suppressed rage. He looked down at her, his red eyes glowing, and the question came out like a roar.
"WHY?!"
Syr took a step back, unable to bear the intensity of that gaze.
"Why did you do that?! Why did you do something so horrible?!"
The sound of his voice was almost a whip that tore at her. Freya felt her world shake. The thing she feared most—that glint of hatred in Bell's eyes directed at her—was happening. And yet, her instinct, her obsession, compelled her to justify herself.
"They… they tried to hurt you." Her voice cracked as she said it, but she persisted desperately. "Ishtar planned to sabotage you, to destroy you. And Apollo… Apollo had already attacked you before!"
The words crashed into Bell, who could barely process them. His mind was working feverishly, and suddenly, the revelation fell like a brutal blow: Apollo.
He had been the second God killed.
The memory of the pillar of light shining in the sky returned with a vengeance, and immediately, the image of the Sun God being dragged out of Orario after losing the War Game. Bell gritted his teeth, anger rising in his throat.
"Apollo…!"
He brought a hand to his hair, pulling at it as if seeking to release the unbearable pressure that consumed him.
"Apollo was unnecessary!"
[90…]
His voice echoed in the alley, harsh, full of rage and frustration.
"I had already won that War Game. I already defeated him! He already left Orario. He left and will never come back. He was never going to bother me again! I made justice for everything he put me through. I did it!" The words burned, each syllable an accusation that hit her head on.
[85…]
Syr looked at him, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. Her lips trembled, and in a burst of despair, she raised her voice with a strength she had never displayed in that disguise. "I didn't care about that!"
[80…]
The scream came out ragged, laden with a pain so visceral that even Bell flinched. Tears now streamed freely down her face, but they didn't stop the fury vibrating in her throat.
"I don't care what you've decided, or your justice, or the battles you've won! I only care that they will never touch you, Bell! Let no one dare lay a hand on you!"
[75…]
The word resonated with a terrifying echo. Him. Her Odr. Her treasure. Her everything.
"And anyone who does that…" she continued, gasping through tears and sobs, "anyone who tries to harm you, must receive the consequences!"
Bell froze. He didn't recognize those words. He didn't recognize that person.
The woman who had looked at him sweetly, who had shared tender moments with him, who had shown herself vulnerable before his eyes… now revealed herself to be someone completely different. Her words were razor-sharp blades of obsession, of possession.
"Consequences…" he repeated in a low voice, as if trying to comprehend what he was hearing. "You call it consequences?"
[72…]
He looked up, his red eyes vibrating with indignation.
"What you did was murder! What you did was steal the lives of Gods! You destroyed families, you destroyed people who had nothing to do with it! And you're telling me it was all just because you didn't want me to be touched?!"
[69…]
His voice cracked, but it still sounded strong, like a hammer hitting Freya's conscience.
"That's not protecting me! That's destroying everything I am, everything that I believe in!"
[64…]
Freya stared at him, her lips parted, unable to respond. Each word was a deeper wound than the last. And yet, the obsession that consumed her prevented her from turning back.
"I… I couldn't allow it…" she whispered, sobbing. "Not after seeing you hurt… I couldn't stay still!"
Bell took a step back, as if those tears hurt him more than her words. His heart ached, torn between rage and a strange, almost unbearable pain.
"So…" he finally said, his voice low but carrying an edge that cut through the air, "everything you did, all that bloodshed… was it because you didn't care about what I wanted?"
The question made her shudder. It was the dagger she feared most.
Bell clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles white.
"Do you know so little about me? Or do you know all about me, but you just didn't care?"
[60…]
Freya choked back a sob, but the tears didn't stop. She felt naked, exposed, defeated. Her knees shook, and for a moment she seemed about to collapse.
"Bell… I…"
She couldn't continue. The words died in her throat.
Bell watched her, and his eyes no longer held the tenderness they'd once held. There was anger, yes, but also disappointment, a disappointment so profound it became an icy emptiness that tore Freya's soul in two.
The alley, once only dark and silent, became an unbearable prison.
Freya reached out, trembling, as if trying to hold on to the bond she saw shattering before her.
"Please…" she whispered. "Don't look at me like that…"
[50…]
But Bell didn't respond. His breathing was still labored, his thoughts an impossible chaos. Everything he'd built with her had collapsed in a matter of minutes, as if it had never existed.
He didn't recognize the woman in front of him.
And she... she didn't recognize the boy who now looked at her with so much pain and contempt.
The silence stretched again, heavier than before. A silence laden with invisible wounds, exposed truths, and an abyss that yawned between them.
A gap that, perhaps, could never be closed.
Bell, breathing heavily, took a step forward. The sound of his boot against the wet stones felt like thunder amid the tension. His finger dug into Syr's chest, trembling not only with rage, but with the pain he struggled to contain.
"I don't want to see you again…"
Bell's voice cracked, as if he were pulling each word from deep within his heart. And then, at that instant when it seemed nothing could get any worse, a strong, cold hand rested on his shoulder. It wasn't a gentle or conciliatory gesture: it was a grip that pressed hard, like a warning.
Bell turned his head and met a pair of green eyes, hard and sharp as blades. Ryuu Lion was glaring at him, and what struck him most wasn't her hostility, but the cold hostility on her face.
"Get away from her."
Ryuu's voice was firm, with no room for argument, laced with an edge of hostility Bell had never heard from her before.
Bell felt something inside him crack. Instinctively, he obeyed, taking a step back. The finger that had been pointing at Syr seconds before trembled and slowly lowered itself. But what shattered him most was what appeared before his eyes. Ryuu's number, always steady in his vision, plummeted downward.
[56]… [35]… [11]…
[0]…
[-12]…
The numbers descended like a guillotine, severing any bond they had shared.
He couldn't stand it. He didn't want to see anymore. He didn't want Ryuu to look at him like that. If she hated him, if she rejected him because of what she'd seen, how could he bear it?
Bell's body moved before his mind could stop it. Heart in his throat, he turned and ran out of the alley. Stones thumped beneath his boots, his breathing mingled with the roar of his soul breaking, and the echo of Ryuu's voice still haunted him. He couldn't stay. He didn't want to make anything worse, at least not with her.
Ryuu watched him leave, her expression hardened, but inside, a spark of bewilderment flickered. She didn't understand what had happened before she arrived. She'd only seen Bell aggressively approaching Syr, pointing at her, his face flushed with anger. That wasn't the image of the kind-hearted boy she respected.
"Bell…" she muttered to himself, frowning, before turning to Syr.
Syr, however, didn't give her time to ask. As soon as Bell disappeared from sight, she lunged at Ryuu, burying her face in her chest. Her entire body trembled like a leaf caught in a gale.
"I lost him… I lost him…" Syr sobbed between choked gasps, as if her words wanted to pierce the ground and bury her with them.
Ryuu, surprised at first, tensed. Her instinct told her to stand firm, to get answers first. But when she felt the real trembling in Syr's body, her hands moved on their own, gently surrounding the girl's shoulders and pulling her towards her.
"Calm down… it's okay now. I'm here."
Ryuu's voice was gentle, like a balm seeking to cover the cracks in that instant. However, his gaze remained firm, alert, fixed on the entrance to the alley through which Bell had fled.
Syr wept with a desperation that seemed endless. Tears stained her face, sliding down her neck, and each sob was a reminder of what she had just lost. Because she knew. She wasn't naive. Bell had discovered the truth. He had connected the dots. And in that instant, when his pure eyes had stared into hers with disappointment and rejection, she had understood: she had lost everything.
Ryuu looked down at the girl he was hugging. She felt fragile, broken, as if an invisible blow had split her in two. But still, something wasn't right. Syr was always cheerful, always there with a calm smile, the Hostess of Fertility, caring for everyone with warmth. Now… now she was unrecognizable.
"What happened between you two?" Ryuu asked in a low tone, almost a whisper, although his gaze remained sharp.
But Syr didn't respond. She just held on tighter, as if afraid that if she let go, Ryuu would leave too.
"I lost everything…" she repeated, her voice broken, and that simple phrase resonated in Ryuu's head like a disturbing echo.
Silence stretched out in the alley, broken only by Syr's sobs.
Ryuu sighed. She didn't have all the answers, but one thing was clear: Bell was deeply hurt by what he'd just learned, and Syr was just as devastated by what she'd lost. There was a truth buried in all of this, a dark truth she couldn't yet grasp.
Meanwhile, on the streets of Orario, Bell ran aimlessly, his heart pounding. The memory of the numbers descending upon Ryuu's Affinity Bar haunted him more than any physical wound. He couldn't shake the rejection in her eyes, nor Freya's implicit confession that had destroyed everything they had shared.
His breathing was a stifled sob. His feet barely felt the ground. The world had become a whirlwind of noise and emptiness, and all he knew for sure was that everything he'd thought was safe had crumbled.
The mansion was silent when Bell arrived. His steps were quick, almost clumsy, as if the weight of his heart was pushing him to retreat into a corner where no one could see him. Artemis, from the Spear on his back, called out to him again and again, with that firm voice that used to guide him through moments of doubt, but now it was as if her words were bouncing off an invisible wall.
"Bell… Bell, please answer me. You can't just ignore me like this! Please calm down, let's talk."
But Bell wasn't listening. He couldn't. His thoughts were a whirlwind of images and voices: Syr's face, the whispered confession that had destroyed his confidence, the numbers descending on Ryuu, his friend's icy gaze. All of it crushed him with a force that not even his new Divine Blessings could counter.
He crossed the mansion's door with his head down, thinking only of reaching his room, closing the door, and letting the world shut off for a while. However, fate had a surprise in store for him: in the living room, Haruhime was gathering some things into a small bag.
Bell froze at the sight. He immediately tried to wipe away the remaining tears with a hand, forcing his expression into a neutrality that didn't come naturally to him.
"B-Bell-sama…" Haruhime looked up, surprised.
Bell took a deep breath, trying to sound normal. "Haruhime? What are you doing here? You were supposed to be with Lady Hestia at Takemikazuchi's dojo."
Haruhime lowered her gaze slightly, as if trying to gather her words. "That was supposed to be the case… but Lady Hestia decided to stay the night. She asked me to go back to Lena's to pick up some of her things for tomorrow. You know how she is, she forgot a few."
Bell nodded, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. The lump in his throat was tightening again, and all he wanted was to escape. "I understand… Then, I'll… go to my room. I need to rest a bit."
He tried to walk past her, but Haruhime stopped him with a soft voice.
"Bell-sama…"
He turned slowly, his heart pounding, waiting for a question he didn't want to answer.
"Could you join me for a moment?"
Her tone was delicate, almost shy, but there was a firmness in her gaze that made Bell stand still. He didn't know why, but his body reacted before his mind, and he nodded with a simple nod.
A few minutes later, Bell followed her into the garden. The grass was cool, illuminated by the soft light of the stars and moon. Haruhime sat down gracefully, folding her legs to the side, and patted the ground beside her a few times, inviting him to do the same.
Bell hesitated for a moment, but sat down. His back was stiff, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on his knees.
"What did you need?" he asked, with a forced attempt to sound calm.
But Haruhime surprised him by speaking bluntly. "I don't know what exactly happened… I just know that something happened. I don't know what it was, but… I can't let the person who helped me, the one who took me into Hestia-sama's Familia, suffer in silence."
Bell pressed his lips together, his gaze shifting to the floor. "It's okay, Haruhime. I'm fine."
She watched him for a few seconds in silence. Then she smiled tenderly, that gentle smile that she didn't try to force, but rather accompanied. "Bell-sama... I know what it's like to swallow tears, what it's like to live without being able to speak, without being able to vent what's inside. I learned it in the Ishtar Familia... and I know how to recognize it in others."
The words hit him harder than he expected. He tried to respond, but his voice cracked before he could form a sentence. Everything he had held back during that walk, everything he had tried to hide upon entering the mansion, came crashing down on him.
Syr's face, Freya's smile, the confession, Ryuu's gaze, the numbers dropping, the feeling of the ground crumbling beneath their feet...
And unable to stop it any longer, Bell began to cry.
Tears streamed heavily down his face, at first unstoppable, then unstoppable. He lowered his head and covered his eyes with his hands, his shoulders shaking as the sobs tore the air from his chest.
"It's okay, Bell-sama. It's okay to cry."
Haruhime's voice was a warm, steady whisper, like a silk thread seeking to hold him together as he tore apart.
Bell sobbed harder, the words coming out slurred. "I thought I could trust… I thought… she'd change. She promised me. And I…" His voice cracked, trailing off into a void of frustration. "I believed her."
Haruhime listened silently, letting her pain flow.
"All I ever wanted… was to do the right thing. To be someone they can trust, someone who protects, not destroys. But…" he lifted his head, his eyes red and watery. "What am I supposed to do when those next to me… do the exact opposite?"
Haruhime clasped her hands in her lap, lowering her gaze slightly. "Bell-sama… I don't have all the answers. But I do know one thing: what you feel now, that disappointment, that sadness… it means that you remained true to yourself. Even if the world contradicts itself, even if those around you fail, you are still you."
Bell closed his eyes tightly, as if he wanted to hold back those words, but the tears kept falling.
"I don't want to hate anyone… But I can't accept this either. I can't."
Haruhime bowed her head gently. "No one said it would be easy, Bell-sama. I… in the Ishtar Familia, I often thought that hate was the only way out. But hate never gave me strength. It drained me, made me weaker. It was you who showed me another way to live… and that's why I now want to give back to you, even if it's just by listening to you."
Silence filled the garden, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The wind gently moved their hair, and Bell's crying slowly began to soften, turning into ragged breaths.
Haruhime, her heart pounding inside her chest, felt Bell's tears pierce any barrier she'd tried to maintain. Her own past, filled with scars and loneliness, echoed in his pain. And then, without thinking too much about it—because if she did, she'd never dare—she did something unthinkable to her.
She reached out, trembling, and gently took his shoulder. Bell raised his head, confused, barely able to see her cheeks flushed with shyness. But before he could ask, Haruhime guided him down, with a strength that came not from her muscles but from her resolve.
Within seconds, Bell's head was lying in her lap, on top of the soft fabric of her kimono. Haruhime pressed her lips together to keep from letting out a nervous gasp; the sensation was too much, so overwhelming that her heart nearly stopped. She'd never been this close to a man, and if it hadn't been Bell, the only one who'd ever shown her genuine kindness, she would surely have fainted on the spot.
The warmth of his body, the confident weight of his head, the vulnerability in his sobs—all of it made Haruhime tense up at first, but then, with a superhuman effort, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Her hands trembled, but she raised them and gently began to stroke Bell's white hair.
The Renard's fingers gently ran through the strands, as if afraid of breaking them. And against all odds, that caress calmed not only Bell, but herself as well. The trembling in her hands faded, and with it, the fear of losing her composure.
Bell said nothing, didn't move, just let out softer sobs, slowly releasing the pressure that was suffocating him. The touch, the gesture, reminded him of something he'd needed for a long time: the certainty that there was someone willing to hold him when he couldn't hold himself.
"Bell-sama…" Haruhime murmured tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. "I… may not be the strongest person, nor the bravest, but you gave me something no one else has."
Bell tilted his face slightly, not raising it, listening silently. Her tears continued to wet Haruhime's kimono, but she didn't seem to mind at all.
"You allowed me to have a new life." Her voice vibrated with emotion. "Before… I thought my path was already sealed. That my value as a person was defined only by what others could take from me. But when you accepted me into this Familia… when you gave me a place to belong… you allowed me to dream."
The tears that had once been on the verge of springing from Haruhime now did so, silently, sliding down her cheeks. "To dream of being someone else. Of being useful, of learning, of walking alongside others. And for that… I will be eternally grateful."
Bell's chest tightened at those words. He felt the weight of what Haruhime was saying, and for a moment the anguish that was suffocating him mingled with an unexpected warmth. Still sobbing, he murmured hoarsely, "Haruhime... I don't... I'm not someone that big."
"Yes, you are." Haruhime interrupted, more firmly than she'd ever used with him. Her fingers tangled carefully in his hair, as if she feared he might disappear. "You are to me. You always will be."
Bell squeezed his eyes shut, letting more tears escape. The conflict in his chest wouldn't go away, but Haruhime's words were like a balm, a reminder that even though the world was becoming dark and chaotic, there were still voices anchoring him to what he wanted to be.
Time passed without either of them measuring the minutes. There was only the serenity of the garden, the gentle touch of Haruhime's fingers, and Bell's muffled crying, which slowly transformed into a tired, exhausted but lighter breathing.
Upstairs, on the second floor of the mansion, Lena watched from a window. She had gone to drop off the things she and Haruhime had collected, and noticing her friend's absence, she looked for her curiously. She had never expected to encounter such a scene.
Her gaze softened, and a genuine smile curved her lips.
Lena leaned an elbow on the window frame and calmly enjoyed the view. She didn't want to interrupt. She knew what she was seeing was intimate, precious, the kind of moment that could change the relationship between two people forever.
Down below, Haruhime continued speaking in whispers, words that flowed like prayers. "I… know I can't ease all your pain. But if my words, if my company can give you even a little bit of calm… then I will feel happy. Because you are my hero, Bell-sama. Not because you fight monsters, not because you have strength… but because you saved me from myself."
Bell swallowed hard, his throat burning from all the crying. He tried to reply, but only a weak, "Thank you… Haruhime."
She bowed her head, still petting him. "Don't thank me. Just… get some rest."
He closed his eyes, and without realizing it, his tears subsided. The sobs subsided, and exhaustion, both physical and emotional, enveloped him. Within a few minutes, Bell's breathing calmed, and he fell into a light sleep.
Haruhime, still blushing to the tips of her fingers, remained motionless, letting her Hero sleep on her lap. The embarrassment was still present, but so was a newfound calm, as if in that moment she had found a purpose beyond herself.
At the window, Lena stepped back with a wider smile. "Well done, Haruhime," she murmured to herself, slowly closing the curtain to give them privacy.
The garden fell silent again, accompanied only by the distant chirping of a few crickets. Haruhime, silent tears still rolling down her cheeks, looked down at Bell and whispered what she had never dared to say out loud:
"Thank you for letting me dream, Bell-sama."
And under the Moon, while the world outside burned in chaos from the pillars of light and fallen Gods, in that corner of calm, a Fox Girl and a Young Adventurer found solace in each other.