The streets of Orario buzzed with life as the morning sun cast golden rays over the city. Merchants called out their wares, adventurers in gleaming armor strode through the market, and the aroma of freshly baked bread mixed with the scent of sizzling meat from nearby food stalls. It was a rare moment of peace for Bell and his companions—a day without dungeon dives, a day to simply enjoy the city they fought so hard to protect.
Bell walked alongside Lili and Hestia.
Bell chuckled at their exchange, his gaze wandering across the marketplace until he spotted Hermes leaning against a fruit stall, casually tossing an apple in the air. "Bell! Just the man I wanted to see," Hermes greeted with his signature smirk.
"Hermes? What are you doing here?" Bell asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Oh, just observing," Hermes replied. "You know, it's always fascinating to watch adventurers outside the dungeon. Some look more comfortable swinging swords than choosing between apples and pears."
"And which one do I look like?" Bell asked, crossing his arms.
Hermes took a dramatic pause, studying Bell with exaggerated scrutiny. "Hmm... definitely someone who could use more practice in both."
Before Bell could retort, a loud crash sounded from a nearby alley, followed by the yelp of a child. Without hesitation, Bell dashed toward the noise, weaving through the crowd. When he turned the corner, he found a group of older boys surrounding a younger one, who had fallen to the ground, clutching a small bag.
"You should share some of that, don't you think?" one of the bullies sneered, reaching for the bag.
Bell stepped forward, his presence immediately drawing their attention. "That's enough," he said, his tone firm but not hostile.
One of the boys scoffed. "Who the hell are you?"
"Bell Cranel," he answered simply. That alone was enough to make them hesitate. The White Rabbit of Orario was no longer an unknown name.
The boys exchanged nervous glances before huffing and walking off. Bell turned to the child, offering a hand. "Are you okay?"
The kid nodded, clutching his bag tighter. "Thank you, mister!"
Bell ruffled his hair before walking back to his group, where Hestia and Lili were waiting with knowing smiles.
"You really can't ignore anyone in need, can you?" Hestia teased.
Bell just smiled. "I wouldn't be much of an adventurer if I could."
—
The air in the Mid-Level of the Dungeon was thick with the acrid scent of burnt flesh as Bell, Lili, and Mikoto stood amidst the scattered remains of a pack of Hellhounds. The battle had been swift but intense, the fiery breath of the monsters leaving scorch marks along the cavern walls. Mikoto wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, exhaling deeply as the last of the creatures fell.
"That was tougher than expected," she admitted, sheathing her blade.
Bell turned to her with an appreciative smile. "You did great, Mikoto. Thanks for coming with us."
Mikoto shook her head. "No, I should be thanking you. This was my request, after all."
Lili scoffed. "You two can pat each other on the back later. Let's get out of here before more of those things show up."
Later that evening, the trio found themselves at a bustling pub in Orario, the air filled with the scent of roasted meat and the clamor of adventurers unwinding from their dungeon forays. Bell and his companions sat at a corner table, drinks in hand, indulging in the rare moment of respite.
"So, your new Shadow Soldiers," Mikoto mused, swirling her drink. "I have to admit, it's still eerie seeing them in action."
Lili, leaning back in her chair, nodded. "I agree. But it's also ridiculously effective. With them, we don't have to worry about being outnumbered."
Bell chuckled, taking a sip of ale. "Yeah, it's definitely been a game-changer."
Just as the atmosphere settled into a comfortable rhythm, a sneering voice cut through the noise.
"Look at this," a Pallum from the Apollo Familia sneered, sauntering up to their table with a few of his lackeys in tow. "A little rabbit playing warlord. Surrounding yourself with monsters now, Cranel? What, too scared to fight your own battles?"
Bell's fingers tightened around his mug. He set it down slowly, locking eyes with the Pallum, but before he could stand, Lili crossed her arms, glaring. "Why don't you mind your own business?"
The Pallum smirked, ignoring her. "I'm just saying, no amount of tricks will make you anything more than a weakling pretending to be strong."
A dull thud echoed through the pub as Bell's mug struck the Pallum's head, knocking him out cold. The room fell silent for a moment before erupting into laughter from nearby patrons.
"Ah, damn," Bell muttered, shaking his head. "Didn't mean to waste good lemonade."
The Apollo Familia members scrambled back, eyes wide, but one remained standing—Hyakinthos Clio. Unlike the others, his expression held neither fear nor amusement. It was pure, seething anger. Bell could feel the bloodlust radiating from him, sharp and suffocating.
Bell met his gaze, unfazed, and activated Bloodlust.
Clio's breath hitched. His body tensed, heat rising beneath his skin. Beads of sweat formed at his temple as an invisible pressure crushed down on him. His hand twitched at his side, hesitating.
"I suggest you leave," Bell said coolly.
Across the room, Bete watched with mild interest, a smirk tugging at his lips. Tch. The kid's come a long way.
The tension in the pub thickened as Clio's face twisted in rage. His fingers twitched over the hilt of his dagger, his pride burning hotter than the alcohol in his system. The laughter and chatter around them dulled, replaced by the subtle scrape of chairs as patrons subtly edged away, sensing the fight about to unfold.
With a sharp intake of breath, Clio lunged. His dagger flashed under the dim candlelight, aiming straight for Bell's side.
But Bell was already moving.
He sidestepped with ease, the blade slicing through empty air. Clio snarled and slashed again, but Bell tilted his head back just enough for it to miss. Another thrust—another dodge. Again and again, Bell weaved through Clio's furious attacks with the effortless grace of someone humoring a child's tantrum.
The smirk on Bell's lips only fueled Clio's frustration. He swung wildly, his attacks becoming sloppy. Bell, almost bored, pivoted on his heel and slammed his elbow straight into Clio's gut.
A choked gasp left Clio's lips. His body jolted, and with a sickening guh!, a mix of blood and saliva splattered onto the wooden floor. The dagger slipped from his grasp, clattering noisily against the ground. He staggered back, clutching his stomach, his breath ragged and uneven.
The pub remained eerily silent, all eyes fixed on the spectacle. Clio's gaze darted around, his face pale. He knew it—there was no winning this fight. Not here. Not against him.
With a sharp glare, he wiped his mouth, scowling as he turned on his heel. "Tch... This isn't over," he muttered before storming out, his men trailing behind him.
As the door slammed shut behind them, the pub burst back into life. Cheers and laughter erupted, tankards raised in amusement.
Bete, who had been watching from the side, let out a short chuckle. "Hah. Not bad, Rabbit."
As the tension faded, Lili smirked and raised her mug. "Well, that was fun. Another round?"
Bell sighed. "You're going to make me pay, aren't you?"
Mikoto simply laughed, raising her glass as the pub returned to its lively atmosphere.
A short while later, a pair of representatives from the Apollo Familia approached Bell in the bustling streets of Orario, handing him a sealed letter. The emblem of the sun god was stamped in wax, its golden sheen reflecting in the dimming afternoon light. Bell hesitated before tucking it away, knowing this was meant for Hestia.
Back at the ruined church, Bell watched as Hestia broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Her eyes flickered across the words, her expression shifting from curiosity to mild annoyance.
"It's an invitation to a banquet," she said, exhaling sharply. "One hosted by Apollo himself."
Bell blinked. "A banquet?"
"Yeah. A special one for the gods," Hestia muttered. Not wanting to attend alone, she quickly decided to invite Miach and Takemikazuchi along, hoping their presence would keep things from becoming unbearable.
When the night of the banquet arrived, Bell and Hestia stood outside the Apollo Familia's extravagant manor, its towering structure bathed in warm candlelight. The laughter and music spilling from inside hinted at the grandeur within. Soon, Miach and Naaza arrived, the latter adjusting her arm prosthetic with a sigh.
"Takemikazuchi should already be inside," Miach noted. "Shall we?"
The group stepped into the lavish estate, immediately greeted by the sight of opulence—the golden chandeliers, flowing silk drapes, and an endless spread of gourmet food. The moment they entered, Hermes strolled toward them, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
"Bell, Hestia," Hermes greeted, flanked by Takemikazuchi, Asfi, and Mikoto. "Didn't think you'd miss this grand affair."
Before Bell could respond, a powerful voice echoed through the hall. The room quieted as the host himself, Apollo, made his entrance. Dressed in regal finery, he stepped forward with three members of his Familia trailing behind him—faces Bell recognized all too well.
With a dazzling smile, Apollo raised his goblet high. "Welcome, honored guests! Tonight, we celebrate the strength and unity of Orario's greatest adventurers. May the festivities begin!"
As the party commenced, guests mingled, feasting and laughing in the golden glow of the ballroom. Bell found himself standing near the balcony when Hermes approached him once again, his gaze sharp yet amused.
"Tell me, Bell," Hermes mused, sipping from his wine glass. "Why did you become an adventurer?"
Bell hesitated before answering, his voice firm. "Because my grandfather inspired me to."
Hermes hummed in thought before shifting the conversation. "And? Is there someone here you'd like to dance with?"
Bell glanced toward Ais, standing gracefully amidst the crowd. The flickering candlelight made her golden hair glow like a divine blessing. Hermes smirked.
"Go on."
Bell took a breath, steadied himself, and walked toward her, keeping his composure in check. "Ais... Would you like to dance?"
Ais blinked, then nodded. "Yes."
As the two moved to the center of the floor, their dance began—awkward at first, but soon fluid and natural. Around them, their respective goddesses, Hestia and Loki, squirmed in frustration, held back by Asfi's firm grip.
"I've never danced with anyone before," Ais admitted softly.
Bell smiled. "Then I guess we're both learning."
From a distant corner, Freya watched with intrigue, her lips curling in amusement. She turned to Ottar. "How many Minotaurs do you think I could summon here?"
Ottar, unfazed, responded, "Impossible."
Their dance continued, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away—until the lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight shining on the two of them.
A slow clap broke the spell.
Apollo stepped forward, his expression smug as he gestured toward a wounded adventurer. The man staggered forward, bandages wrapped tightly around his torso, his face twisted in pain.
"This," Apollo announced, "is the work of your Familia." His sharp gaze landed on Bell. "And I will not let this insult stand."
Before Bell could speak, Hestia stepped in front of him, shielding him with unwavering determination.
Apollo smirked. "I, Apollo, challenge the Hestia Familia to a War Game."
---
Next: Challenge Accepted