Bell sat at his table, enjoying the meal laid out before him. The warm atmosphere of the Hostess of Fertility surrounded him, the laughter of adventurers and barmaids filling the air. The food was delicious, better than anything he had eaten in a long time.
But as he ate, he felt eyes on him.
His white hair made him easy to spot, and it didn't take long for some members of the Loki Familia to recognize him. Among them was Bete Loga, a seasoned adventurer known for his sharp tongue and lack of restraint—especially when drunk.
Bell felt a pit form in his stomach as Bete approached with an amused sneer.
"Hah. Ain't you that kid from before?" Bete's voice slurred slightly, but the mockery was unmistakable. "Yeah... I remember now. You're the one who ran away from that Minotaur, right?"
Bell froze, his hands clenched into fists beneath the table.
The room seemed to grow quieter as more people turned to watch the scene unfold.
Bete laughed, shaking his head. "Man, it was pathetic. If Ais hadn't stepped in, you'd be dead. And yet, you're sittin' here, stuffing your face like you're some kind of hero?"
Bell said nothing, his grip tightening on his utensils.
Bete leaned in closer. "A weakling like you doesn't deserve to be anywhere near someone like Ais."
The words stung.
Bell pushed back his chair abruptly, the legs scraping against the wooden floor. Without a word, he dashed out of the pub, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night.
Ais sat in silence, her golden eyes following his retreating form. She hadn't spoken up. She knew Bete had gone too far.
But what could she have said?
—
Bell's feet carried him forward before he even realized where he was going.
The deep frustration boiling inside him needed an outlet—and there was only one place he could go.
By the time he came back to his senses, he was already in the dungeon.
He fought with reckless abandon, striking down every goblin, kobold, and needle rabbit that crossed his path. But no matter how many he cut down, the anger wouldn't fade.
Bete's words kept replaying in his head.
"Pathetic."
"Weakling."
He clenched his teeth, his grip on Kasaka's Fang so tight that his knuckles turned white.
I don't want to be weak.
Bell kept going, deeper and deeper, fighting until the night turned to morning.
By the time exhaustion finally caught up to him, his clothes were torn, and his body bore scratches and bruises. But compared to how he normally looked after a long dungeon run, this was nothing.
He hadn't even leveled up.
—
Bell finally returned home, his steps slow and heavy.
The moment he entered, Hestia's voice rang out.
"Bell! Where have you been all night?!"
He didn't answer right away, avoiding her gaze as he sat down.
Hestia's eyes softened when she noticed the marks on his body. "Bell..."
"I just... needed to clear my head."
Hestia walked closer, sitting down beside him. "What happened?"
Bell hesitated before sighing. "I just want to be strong."
The words left his mouth like a confession.
Hestia reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You will be."
Bell looked at her, doubt flickering in his crimson eyes. "How can you be so sure?"
She smiled. "Because I believe in you."
Her words settled something in his chest—a warmth that pushed back against the lingering frustration.
Bell wasn't there yet.
But he wouldn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
Not until he proved them all wrong.
—
The morning sunlight filtered through the windows as Bell sat across from Hestia, recounting everything that had happened in the past day. He revealed his updated stats.
Hestia's blue eyes widened as she listened.
"Bell... this is incredible," she murmured, setting down the parchment. "You really do have the talent to be an adventurer."
Bell's heart swelled at her words. "You really think so?"
Hestia nodded, smiling. "I don't think so—I know so. You're already getting stronger at a crazy pace." Her expression grew softer. "And I'll always support you, no matter what."
Bell felt warmth spread through his chest. Having someone who believed in him made all the difference.
But then, he noticed something.
Hestia's expression shifted—her usual enthusiasm dampened by something unspoken.
"Hestia?" Bell leaned forward slightly. "Is something on your mind?"
She hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It's just... don't leave me alone, okay?"
Bell blinked, surprised by her sudden request.
"Hestia..."
She looked at him with earnest eyes, and Bell could see the vulnerability hidden beneath her usual confidence.
A silent promise formed between them at that moment.
"I won't," he assured her. "I promise."
A small, satisfied smile returned to Hestia's face.
"...Thank you, Bell."
She then stood up, stretching. "Well, I need to go out for a few days. It'll only be three, so try not to miss me too much, okay?"
Bell tilted his head. "You're leaving?"
Hestia nodded. "Yeah. I've got some things to take care of. But I'll be back before you know it."
Bell made a mental note of that.
Three days.
He wondered just how much stronger he could become in that time.
After Hestia left, Bell wasted no time.
He stepped outside and took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. If he wanted to be stronger, he needed to be disciplined.
His daily quest began.
100 push-ups.
100 sit-ups.
100 squats.
10 km run.
Each movement burned, but Bell welcomed the pain. Every drop of sweat, every strained breath—it all meant progress.
With each rep, each step, he reminded himself:
He couldn't stay weak.
He wouldn't stay weak.
Three days.
By the time Hestia returned, he would be even stronger.
—
The warm, familiar scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air as Bell stepped into the Hostess of Fertility once more. The night before had been a disaster, but he was determined to make things right.
Mia Grand, the formidable owner, stood behind the counter with her arms crossed. Bell approached her with his head bowed slightly.
"I'm really sorry for leaving without paying last night," he said sincerely. "I promise it won't happen again."
Mia let out a gruff chuckle. "Kid, if I was mad, you wouldn't be standing here right now."
Bell swallowed nervously. That... wasn't exactly comforting.
"But," Mia continued, "you're lucky Syr argued in your defense. If it weren't for her, I'd have made you work off that debt yourself."
Bell's eyes widened slightly, and as if on cue, Syr Flova appeared from the side, carrying a neatly wrapped lunchbox.
"You must be starving after a long night," Syr said with a kind smile, holding out the meal.
Bell hesitated for a moment. "I—"
"Just take it," Mia cut in. "And make sure you thank her properly."
Bell looked between the two women before taking the lunchbox.
"Thank you, Syr," he said earnestly.
She beamed. "Just come back here again, okay?"
Bell nodded, feeling a little lighter as he left.
—
Bell found himself standing in front of a weapon shop. His fingers twitched slightly—he knew he needed better gear, but his funds were still limited.
Just as he was lost in thought, a familiar calm voice called out.
"Bell Cranel?"
Bell turned to see Miach, the gentle and kind god, carrying a bag filled with supplies.
"Miach!" Bell greeted him with a smile. "Are you out shopping?"
The blue-haired god nodded. "Supplies for my Familia. What about you?"
Bell rubbed the back of his neck. "Just... thinking about getting a new weapon."
Miach's gaze softened. "I see."
A pause. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out two small glass vials.
"Here, take these."
Bell's eyes widened. "Potions?"
Miach nodded. "Consider it a gift. You're growing fast, and I imagine you'll need them."
Bell stared at the potions for a moment before accepting them with both hands.
"Thank you, Miach," he said, bowing his head slightly.
Miach smiled warmly. "Stay safe out there, Bell."
With that, the two parted ways.
—
Meanwhile, in the heart of Orario, inside Hephaestus' workshop, Hestia was on her hands and knees.
"Please, Hephaestus! I'm begging you!"
The red-haired goddess of the forge sighed, arms crossed as she looked down at her prostrating friend.
"Hestia, get up."
"I won't until you say yes!"
Hephaestus pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're impossible."
Hestia clasped her hands together, eyes shining with determination. "Bell needs a weapon! Something special! Please, Hephaestus, I'll do anything—just make it for him!"
Silence stretched between them.
Then, Hephaestus let out a long sigh.
"...Fine."
Hestia's eyes lit up.
"But," Hephaestus added sternly, "you will pay your debt, no matter how long it takes."
Hestia nodded so fast she almost lost balance. "I don't care! Thank you, Hephaestus!"
The forge goddess smirked slightly. "Don't thank me yet. You're going to help with this."
Hestia froze.
"...Help?"
Hephaestus chuckled. "If this weapon is for your child, you should have a hand in its creation."
Hestia gulped, but her determination did not waver.
"For Bell, I'll do it!"
---
Next: Growth