Hestia's arms were looped around his neck, and because she was so light, Keyaru barely felt any weight at all.
But with contact that close—
If there weren't a few… softer sensations involved, that would've been a lie.
For the first time, he truly felt Hestia's famed "righteous grandeur." He slipped an arm around her waist and, taking her "let's go home" literally but seriously, said:
"Shouldn't we grab dinner first?
"I did pretty well in the Dungeon today. And… thank you for looking after me these past few days, Lady Hestia. I want to treat you to a meal."
Hestia's gaze lingered on his clear, handsome face.
She really had been run ragged lately. Even Hephaestus had teased her that, after recruiting a child, it was like she'd turned into a different person.
In a good way.
A god has to shoulder a god's responsibilities—but there was only so much she could do. With her power sealed, up before dawn, working until dusk—fatigue was inevitable. And yet, hearing him say that, she felt like she had endless energy.
Every time she thought back to the day she "picked him up," she was grateful she'd made the right choice in the wrong circumstances.
"Of course we should celebrate!"
She nodded hard, then shook her head to add:
"But I should be the one paying. Keyaru, I think you should save what you earned—put it toward better weapons and armor. I appreciate the thought. There'll be plenty of chances later."
"Then we'll do it your way, Lady Hestia."
He didn't argue with that resolute, can't-say-no look. But when he glanced through the shop's display window, he suddenly felt like he'd been caught red-handed.
Compared to petite Hestia, the woman inside was much taller, with short vermilion hair and a distinctive eyepatch over her right eye. White top, black trousers, black over-the-knee heeled boots.
Hephaestus.
Of course he knew who she was—owner of Orario's largest weapon chain. In Greek myth, the god of fire and forging; in Orario, Hestia's close friend and frequent victim of one-sided "wool-shearing."
The weapon he'd used in the Dungeon was, in fact, wool she'd "pulled" from Hephaestus.
Orario was the center of the world, but it was a small city—especially when it came to gods Hestia knew. He just hadn't expected to meet Hephaestus like this.
"Lady Hestia."
"That…"
Hestia unwound her arms and followed his gaze to the familiar figure inside, arms folded across her chest.
It wasn't embarrassment over clinging to Keyaru. It was that, seeing him back safe, she'd lost control of her excitement and flung the whole stack of flyers.
"I'll go explain to Hephaestus."
"Oh—Keyaru, want to come meet her? She's Orario's god of forging and my best friend from Heaven! The weapon you're using is made by her Familia."
"If possible, I'd love an introduction. I may need something custom later—and it helps having Lady Hestia to put in a word."
Keyaru's impression of Hephaestus was positive. They were on the same "side," and he planned to plant roots in Orario—no harm in widening his network.
They stepped into the shop. Before Hestia could speak, the eyepatched woman—with sharp poise no hairstyle could hide—looked the brown-haired boy over with frank curiosity.
Hephaestus glanced at Hestia, teasing in her tone. "So this is the Keyaru you've been talking my ear off about these last two days?"
"That's him."
At the mention of his name, Hestia couldn't help but straighten with pride.
Facing hardship yet still choosing her; training hard; getting hurt and still trying not to make her worry—Keyaru filled her with pride.
Keyaru didn't have much experience dealing with gods, but he did feel the need to explain the flyer mess at the door. With a slightly apologetic smile, he said, "Lady Hephaestus, sorry about the flyers out front—we kind of… scattered them."
"It's fine."
She waved it off. She wasn't about to say he'd actually bungled more than that. But a boy who stood up for her friend's dignity left a good impression. Clearly there was something in him that had genuinely moved Hestia—enough to make her change.
"How's the weapon handling?"
"Perfectly. Especially against Dungeon monsters. Without it, I'm not sure I'd have made it back in one piece."
He meant it. Relying on "Heal" alone would've kept him a back-line support at best.
"Good. If you'd run into trouble because of the weapon, I know exactly who would've chewed me out."
Hephaestus shook her head lightly. Given her friend's tight finances, she'd consider this a reward for "changing that girl's habits." She added, "If it chips or cracks, bring it to one of my Familia's smiths for repairs. And if you want to buy something else later, I can give you a bit of a discount."
It wasn't much, but it was what she could do. The weapons were all crafted by her children; giving them away outright would cheapen that effort.
Keyaru hadn't expected a bonus just from saying hello. He didn't make a fuss—high-intensity fights might wear a blade, but he wouldn't need a replacement soon. Saving that expense mattered.
"Thank you, Lady Hephaestus."
"Don't mention it." Then to Hestia: "That's enough for today. Clock out early."
"Knew you're still the best, Hephaestus!"
Watching the two of them go, Hephaestus reflected on the boy: a baby face, but a steadiness beyond his years—temperament that complemented Hestia's. What piqued her most, though, was the "vessel" he carried.
Just how talented was he, to make Hestia show a seriousness she'd never shown the night she came to ask for help?
She had a strong hunch: the tangled thread tying her and Hestia together would only grow thicker because of Keyaru.
Hephaestus sighed, shaking her head, and murmured:
"I just wonder how far that kid can go on his own."