Chapter: One more step
Made By: Eternal_Jokr
A/N: This fanfic is open to criticism and opinions, tell us what you think in the comments section and leave your support. Thank you
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The ascent through the floors he had cleaned himself was considerably faster. With no monsters to block the way, Dante crossed the stone galleries with long, steady strides, finally emerging from the gates of Babel.
The sky over Orario was already completely covered by the dark mantle of night, exactly as he had calculated.
Before returning to the basement of the abandoned church where Hestia awaited him, Dante made a necessary detour.
His canvas bags were heavy, and carrying so many magic stones and valuable drops home would attract unwanted attention through the residential streets. He needed to convert the results of that slaughter into valis.
He walked toward the Guild headquarters. The grand marble hall was considerably emptier than it had been in the morning, housing only a few exhausted adventurers drinking or counting their late earnings.
Dante crossed the place in silence, his black hood still covering his purple eyes, and headed straight to Rose Fannett's service counter.
The receptionist, with red hair and sharp wolf ears, was organizing some papers for some adventurers when Dante's shadow was projected over her desk.
Her ears gave a slight involuntary twitch as they caught the sound of heavy footsteps and the subtle smell of ash dust emanating from his robes.
"Dante?" Rose looked up, slightly surprised to see him return so late. "You took your time. For a moment, I thought you had ignored my warnings and gotten into trouble on the deeper floors."
Instead of answering verbally, Dante simply reached his hands into the bags beneath his cloak.
With light, silent movements, he began to unload the contents onto the wooden counter.
"Thud Clank Clank"
First, a shower of small magic stones from Frog Shooters, Needle Rabbits, Killer Ants, Imps, and Bad Bats.
Then, the drops, finger blades from Dungeon War Shadows, and intact wing pieces from Purple Moths and more.
Rose watched the pile grow with an expression that quickly shifted from curiosity to silent shock. Her wolf eyes widened.
"Wait... are these remains of monsters from the 7th floor? And the 11th!?" She picked up one of the grey plates Dante had placed on the counter, her fingers tracing the indestructible texture. "This is the hide of a Hard Armored... Dante, what is the meaning of this?"
Before she could formulate the next question, Dante placed the final piece on the table.
"It also has an Orc's magic stone."
A heavy thud echoed as the immense Orc magic stone, the size of a human head, was deposited right in front of the receptionist.
The silence that settled between the two was absolute.
Rose's wolf ears flattened completely against her head, and she leaned forward, staring at the monster stone from the 12th floor and then at the young man beneath the hood, her mouth half-open.
"The... Orc from the 12th floor?" Rose's voice came out almost in a whisper, cracking for an instant before regaining its professional, though visibly trembling, tone. "Dante...you told me earlier today that you were just going to test your new armor on the initial floors! The 12th floor is the limit of the Upper Floors! Normal Level 1 adventurers need an entire support party to survive there, and you bring me an Orc core while solo?!"
"The guide you gave me was useful" Dante replied dryly, his hoarse voice breaking her astonishment.
"The Imp's tactics were correct. I just needed to neutralize them before they scattered. The Orc was just a matter of cutting in the right place" he continued in a dry manner".
Rose let out a nervous laugh, running her hand through her red hair as she tried to process the absurdity of the situation.
She looked at Dante's Young Wyvern leather vest; it displayed deep scratches and severe impact marks from the horns of Needle Rabbits and the strength of the Hard Armored, but it was whole.
Rose stared at the immense Orc magic stone, then looked at the pile of claws and rare wings, and finally at the young man standing in front of her with the utmost naturalness in the world.
Her wolf ears contracted so tightly against her head that they almost disappeared into her red strands.
She dropped her quill pen with such force that the object rolled across the counter, staining one of her sheets with black ink.
"Are you mocking me? Dante!?" Rose's voice rose a pitch, drawing curious glances from the few adventurers who still remained in the Guild hall.
She didn't care. She slammed both flat hands onto the wood of the counter, leaning her body forward with her face red from pure frustration.
"I spent almost half an hour early today giving you a lecture, handing you a detailed guide and begging you to be careful. I literally said: Do not overestimate your abilities, the lower floors are not a playground. And what do you do? You simply ignore everything, go down to the damn 12th floor alone and tear an Orc to shreds?!" ©
She picked up the grey hide of the Hard Armored, shaking it in the air as if she wanted to make him understand the gravity of what he had done.
"This thing here is the greatest defense of the Upper Floors. Normal Level 1 adventurers panic just hearing the sound of this thing rolling through the tunnels, and you brought its armor as a trophy. Do you have any idea how frustrating this is for me?"
"I am your advisor. My job is to ensure you don't die, but you act as if the rules of the Dungeon are a joke. A solo rookie disappearing for hours and coming back carrying the core of a three-meter monster is complete nonsense! The reports I am going to have to fill out to justify this exchange are going to turn my night upside down".
Rose let out a long, exasperated sigh, throwing her hands in the air before beginning to pull the valis coin sacks with unnecessary violence.
She began to count the money forcefully, tossing the coins onto the scale while muttering low curses against the stubbornness of adventurers.
"A matter of cutting in the right place..." she repeated, mimicking Dante's hoarse voice in a sarcastic and irritated tone. "You are completely insane or a monster disguised as a human, Dante. If management finds out about this, they will think I am forging data."
She pulled the scale and began to separate the stones with hands that were still slightly trembling, assessing the value of each drop with the look of someone who knew they were dealing with a living anomaly.
"Take your valis here and go to your goddess or do whatever, but don't step onto the 13th floor tomorrow. If I find out that you tried to solo the Middle Floors without a party, I will drag you out of that Dungeon by your ears myself! Now get out of my face before I get a migraine".
Dante gathered the heavy sack of valis coins in silence. Rose's explosive reaction did not alter his expression beneath the hood, but he stowed the money quickly, knowing that prolonging that conversation would only result in more shouting from the red-haired werewolf.
------------xXx------------
The streets of Orario at night were a stark contrast to the cold, grey oppression of the 12th floor of the Dungeon.
The illumination from the magic light stones cast long shadows over the stone-tiled ground, while the night wind brought the echo of laughter, music, and the constant buzz coming from the taverns that welcomed the adventurers who survived another day.
Dante walked with slow steps, with the heavy sack of valis firmly attached to his belt and his hands hidden beneath the fabric of the black cloak.
His hood remained raised, but behind the cloth barrier, his mind was immersed in deep thoughts.
He felt the residual vibration on his back, where the 'Inverted Falna' was operating.
The twelve-hour solo descent had pushed his limits to an absurd level, and Rose's explosive and frustrated reaction at the Guild only confirmed what he already knew, he was breaking the logic of growth in that city.
Every drop of stress generated by magic being converted by [Apeiron Khaos] made him denser, faster, more lethal.
But at what cost? He knew that the eyes of the gods would not take long to turn to the Hestia Familia once the reports and rumors began to circulate.
He needed to manage his pace if he wanted to maintain control over his own evolution.
His automatic steps led him down the main avenue until the strong smell of meat stew, beer, and fresh bread invaded his senses.
Dante raised his gaze slightly and found himself passing in front of the Hostess of Fertility.
The tavern overflowed with life. Through the thick glass windows, he could see the frenetic movement of the waitresses in green aprons serving overflowing mugs and steaming plates to noisy customers.
The atmosphere there was the opposite of the silent void he carried inside himself.
He stopped his feet for a brief second on the sidewalk, watching the warm glow that came from the door.
The image of Syr Flover, with her gentle smile and the bento she had handed him that very morning, surfaced in his mind.
He remembered clearly the silent promise he had left in the air, that he would stop by the tavern when he returned from the Dungeon to thank her properly.
His empty stomach gave a slight knot, protesting the prolonged fast after the slaughter of the Dungeon Monsters.
Dante looked at the tavern door, but hesitated.
He knew he could not enter. Not today. Entering there would mean extending the night, answering questions from curious eyes, and spending time that he simply did not possess.
But above all, his sense of duty and loyalty spoke louder, there was a short goddess with a blue ribbon waiting for him in the dark basement of that abandoned church.
Hestia was probably awake, walking in circles, consumed by the anxiety of not knowing if her only adventurer had survived the dangers of the labyrinth.
She did not deserve to spend even one more minute in that agony.
"Maybe next time, Syr" murmured Dante, his hoarse voice barely coming out as a whisper that lost itself in the night breeze.
Adjusting the strap of the Demon Slayer on his back, he turned his back on the warmth and music of the Hostess of Fertility.
Dante plunged back into the shadows of the secondary streets, quickening his pace toward the ruined residential district.
His petite goddess was waiting for him, and he had a fortune in valis and an absurd evolution to deliver to her.
As Dante moved away from the buzz of the main avenue, the echo of laughter and music from the Hostess of Fertility slowly died down, swallowed by the darkness of the alleys.
The vibrant lights of Orario's commercial magic stones were decreasing in intensity, giving way to the grey, cold, and familiar twilight of the forgotten ruins that surrounded the abandoned church district.
The silence of the night finally embraced him completely, a silence that contrasted with the chaos of the main avenue.
Near the ancient, broken columns overtaken by vines and small wild flowers, Dante halted his steps.
The immense and oppressive dark silhouette of the Tower of Babel rose in the background, tearing through the horizon and blocking part of the view of the sky, like a constant reminder of the abyss he challenged and the arrogance of the gods who inhabited its top.
He brought his bandaged left hand to the top of his hood and pulled it back with a slow movement.
The icy night breeze hit his face directly, carrying away the dust that still remained from his battles and messing up his white hair that shone under the starlight.
Dante raised his deep purple eyes to the immensity of the sky.
Above Orario, above Babel, and above all the political intrigues of that city, the cosmos extended in an infinite mantle.
Billions of gleaming stars and the dense, whitish band of a distant galaxy seemed to pulse, shining with a purity that the Dungeon could never replicate.
Looking at that immensity that knew no barriers, stone ceilings, or labyrinths, the physical weight of the immense black iron sword of the Demon Slayer on his back seemed to vanish for an instant.
A deep, ancient, and silent melancholy, which he rarely allowed himself to feel, took hold of his chest.
His features, usually hardened, cold, and focused from combat and survival, softened under the pale starlight.
The image of his homeland, of the faces of those he knew, and of the suffocating atmosphere of fear that shaped his upbringing returned with full force, reflected in the stillness of the night.
"Sometimes I feel like I am still the same boy watching the sky, dreaming of the world outside... and how much longer the people from where I was born, from where I grew up, how much longer would they live in fear, trapped like birds in a cage."
The thought echoed in his mind not as a lamentation, but with the solemn weight of a blood promise.
That city of Orario, with its capricious gods who treated the lives of mortals as a mere game of entertainment and its adventurers obsessed with Status numbers and fame, seemed painfully small and artificial before the true horizon he aimed to reach.
The people he had left behind, previously confined by the oppression of forces they could not understand, limited by the terror of the unknown and by helplessness before finally perishing, were the true reason why he accepted the pain.
He did not descend the floors of that cursed Dungeon for valis coins, for the warm applause in the Guild halls, or to have his name glorified on street corners.
Dante fought for a much more absolute Cause, he needed to become the unstoppable and implacable force capable of shattering, once and for all, the bars of the invisible destiny that bound the fate of his people and world.
If for that he needed to transform into a monster greater than the demons of the abyss themselves, he would accept the burden without hesitation.
"Is it already too late for me to ask for forgiveness, mother?" He sighed in contemplation before shaking his head. "Well, and even if not, the 'no' would be fair, what is forgiveness worth..... to someone who is going to destroy the world."
Someone who sees their own world turn to ashes ceases to have limits, and without a reputation to protect, you become an anomaly.
Dante let out his breath slowly through his lips, watching the subtle vapor of his respiration rise and vanish into the cold Orario night.
The moment of introspection and vulnerability caught itself on the distant stars, dissipating along with the wind.
Determination and coldness would form part of his armor once again.
With a firm gesture, he covered his face again with the black hood, hiding his purple eyes from any observer in the shadows.
He adjusted the heavy sack of valis that swung on his belt, ensuring that the fruit of his effort was secure, and resumed walking with long, decided steps toward the abandoned church.
The freedom of the world outside still needed to be conquered with a lot of blood and sweat, but for now, he had a small, anxious, and hungry goddess waiting for his safe return home.
After a while of walking, Dante pushed the heavy and worn wooden door of the abandoned church, crossing the threshold from the silence of the ruins into the contained warmth of that basement he now called home.
The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed through the stone staircase as he descended toward the main room.
He barely had time to take the final step onto the basement floor.
"Dan-teeee" a sharp cry, mixing pure relief and an almost childish excitement, echoed through the rustic walls.
Before he could even untie the knot of his black cloak or place the Demon Slayer on the ground, a figure with black hair tied into two side twin tails and an iconic blue ribbon crossing her breasts launched herself in his direction.
Hestia ran with everything, throwing herself against the armored chest of the young man.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her soft cheeks against the Young Wyvern leather of his vest, while her legs almost left the ground from the impact of the clingy embrace.
"You took too long" she complained, making a dramatic and frustrated pout, exactly like a young wife reprimanding her husband for arriving late from work. "I kept walking from side to side down here, Dante! I looked at the door, looked at the clock, and nothing of you. I thought you had forgotten the way home or that one of those waitresses from the Hostess of Fertility had kidnapped you".
Dante remained static for a second, his arms slightly open from the surprise of the unexpected attack of affection.
Beneath the hood, his purple eyes softened before that genuine demonstration of concern.
With a light sigh, he brought his hands down and, careful not to hurt her, pushed her away gently by the shoulders just enough so that he could look at her.
"I said I would return, Hestia. I just needed to stop by the Guild to make the exchange" he replied, his hoarse and calm voice bringing an instant wave of tranquility to the goddess.
Hestia puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms and looking at him from bottom to top with her eyes shining with worry.
"Even so. Look at your state, your clothes are all scratched and you smell like ashes" She began to give light and frenetic pats on his chest, inspecting every inch as if she were looking for hidden injuries. "You didn't get hurt, right? If you have a single scratch, I am going down there into that Dungeon and kicking the butts of those monsters myself! You are my only and precious adventurer, you can't give me these scares".
As she felt around his vest, her hands hit against the canvas bag attached to Dante's belt.
The metallic, heavy, and crystalline sound of hundreds of valis coins echoed through the basement.
Hestia instantly stopped her hands, blinking her eyes, confused.
Dante took advantage of the silence to untie the bag and deposit it onto the old wooden table, along with the huge sack of valis that Rose Fannett had delivered with so much frustration.
The thud was so heavy that it made the table tremble.
"What is... all this?" Hestia approached the table, opening her mouth in a perfect "O" upon seeing the obscene amount of gold and silver coins overflowing.
"The result of today. I cleared up to the 12th floor" said Dante, finally removing his hood and revealing his face, tired but with the expression of a job well done. "It's enough to cover our expenses and guarantee real food for a good while".
The goddess looked from the money to Dante, and then back to the money.
The shock lasted only three seconds before her eyes transformed into two full moons, completely devoid of her usual animation.
She took two slow steps toward the table, as if she were staring at a mirage, and extended her trembling hands, but without the courage to touch that Dante had also removed from the bag.
"THE... THE TWELFTH FLOOR?!" Hestia's scream echoed so loudly through the stone walls that some old tools in the corner of the basement vibrated. She brought both hands to her head, gripping the strands of her dark hair in a pure state of shock and dread.
"Have you lost your mind, DANTE!? The 12th floor is the limit of the Upper Floors. The gods in the city keep saying that Level 1 rookies can barely breathe on the 10th floor without an entire party!"
She approached him with quick steps, holding him by the sides of his jacket and looking up with a mixture of genuine incredulity and despair.
"On the 12th floor there are those giant monsters with pig faces that crush experienced adventurers with a single punch?! Dante, you have less than a week of Falna, you should be hunting Kobolds and taking out marble-sized stones on the 3rd floor! How do you go down to the lair of an Orc while you are alone?"
She let go of his jacket and began to walk in circles through the basement, gesturing frenetically with her arms, the blue ribbon on her breasts rising and falling with her accelerated breathing.
"If the other gods find out about this...If the Loki Familia or the Freya Familia hear that my only adventurer cleared the Upper Floors in twelve hours..." She stopped walking and looked at the pile of gold and silver coins. "This is complete nonsense. This could buy real food and equip the basement for months!"
Hestia swallowed hard, the initial shock slowly transforming into an overwhelming realization that the young man standing in front of her defied all the logic of the world she knew.
She walked back to him, still with her legs half-trembling, and looked fixedly into his purple eyes.
"You...you really did all this alone? You didn't get hurt anywhere, did you?" her voice lowered, laden with a concern so intense that her eyes even welled up with tears. "I don't care about fame or how many valis are on this table, Dante. If you had died down there... I would have been completely alone again".
Dante sustained the gaze of the goddess. Feeling the raw sincerity of her words, he extended his hand and placed it gently on top of Hestia's head, lightly messing up her twin tails.
"I am whole, Hestia. The armor held the impact and my power took care of the rest. You don't need to worry" he reassured his petite patron goddess.
Upon feeling the firm and protective touch of her adventurer's hand, Hestia's dam of shock finally broke, returning to her intense emotional state.
She threw herself against his waist, hugging him with so much force that she almost moved him out of place.
"Y-You went to the 12th floor alone?! My Dante is incredible! A genius! The best adventurer in all of Orario!" she chanted, rubbing her head happily against his arm, completely spoiled by the success of her 'child'. "I knew I hadn't made a mistake in choosing you! Now, enough dungeon talk, you must be starving. I prepared something simple for us, so take off that heavy sword".
Dante just let himself be carried away by Hestia's contagious energy. The emptiness and loneliness that accompanied him through the dark streets of the city dissipated completely under the ceiling of that basement illuminated by the smile of his goddess.
Dante just let himself be carried away by Hestia's contagious energy, feeling the weight of the Demon Slayer and the fatigue of the 12th floor finally begin to dissipate.
He untied the straps of the immense black sword, leaning it carefully against the stone wall of the basement, and removed the leather vest of the Wyvern, faded by the marks left by the battles.
Hestia, who was watching him with shining eyes, suddenly took a step back.
She joined her hands behind her back, swaying lightly on her heels.
Her cheeks gained an adorable crimson hue and a mischievous smile, mixed with a feigned shyness, sprouted on her lips. She cleared her throat, puffing out her chest dramatically to embody the role of a perfect and dedicated traditional wife.
"Welcome back, darling" she said, modulating her voice to a sweetly soft and affectionate tone, while blinking her large eyes at him. "You worked hard today in the Dungeon... So, tell me, would you like to have dinner first? Perhaps you would like to take a bath? Or would you like... me?"
In the very next second after pronouncing the final phrase, the sheer audacity of her joke took its toll. Hestia's face exploded into a red so intense that it rivaled the ripest tomatoes in the Orario market.
"Wawawah!" She covered her mouth with both hands, letting out a sharp squeak of embarrassment, realizing that she did not have the courage to maintain the seductive pose for more than two seconds.
"I-I mean! Not that I am suggesting anything inappropriate, Dante, it's just a joke, a welcome-home joke that I read in a book in the library!" she began to gesture frenetically with her hands in the air, trying to justify herself while taking clumsy steps backward. "The bath, I meant the bath! I can heat the water for you! And dinner is also ready"
Dante paused for an instant, looking at the goddess totally destabilized by her own joke.
Behind the cold and pragmatic facade he displayed to the world outside, a corner of his lips rose in a rare and subtle smirk.
It was impossible not to be infected by the purity and lightness that Hestia brought to that dark place.
"Dinner sounds like a good idea, Hestia" replied Dante, his hoarse voice sounding softer than usual. "I am starving."
Upon hearing his calm and relaxed response, Hestia let out a sigh of relief, although her ears were still red.
She smiled back, instantly recovering her usual animation, and ran toward the small improvised stove in the corner of the basement.
"R-Right! Sit at the table! I will serve my number-one adventurer's plate immediately!"
Dante just let himself be carried away by Hestia's contagious energy, feeling the weight and fatigue of the dungeon finally begin to dissipate.
He sat at the old wooden table while Hestia hurried to bring the meal. Away from the weight of the labyrinth and the steel, Dante looked just like an ordinary young man, although the exhaustion of the twelve hours of combat was subtly stamped on the line of his shoulders.
Hestia placed before him a plate with a steaming stew and a few slices of bread. It was not a banquet worthy of the great gods of Orario, but the homemade aroma was welcoming and genuine.
She sat right in front, propping her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, watching him eat with a silent and radiant satisfaction.
"So..." she began, her eyes shining with curiosity. "You told me that you cleared up to the 12th floor and brought me this mountain of valis, but I want the details. How was the descent? Did you meet other adventurers? Did anyone try to mess with my Dante?"
Between one spoonful and another, Dante responded with his usual calmness, but dosing the information so as not to leave her in a panic.
He detailed the progression of the floors: how the map provided by Rose Fannett had saved time on the 5th floor, the efficiency in neutralizing the nests of Killer Ants on the 7th before they could organize themselves, and the resistance of the Hard Armored on the 11th.
He spoke about how his power reacted to the mystical stress of the Dungeon, adapting to each purged creature.
He deliberately omitted the part about having sliced a three-meter Orc alone and the scandal that Rose had made at the Guild, preferring to focus on the logistics of the ascent and the accumulated value of the smaller and medium drops that had yielded that fortune.
Hestia listened to everything paying absolute attention, letting out small sighs of astonishment and widening her eyes at the most dangerous parts, acting as the number-one fan of her only adventurer.
When he finished, Dante laid down his spoon and looked fixedly at the goddess.
Dante finished chewing the last piece of bread, wiped his lips with the back of his bandaged hand, and fixed his purple eyes on Hestia.
He realized how much she had worn herself out emotionally that afternoon, frying cakes and immersed in the anxiety of waiting for him.
He knew he could not hide the truth for long, especially because the Guild reports would soon be on the lips of the other gods.
"Hestia, there is one more thing about my day that you need to know" Dante's hoarse voice cut through the cozy silence of the basement, drawing the immediate attention of the goddess. "I didn't stop fighting when I reached the 12th floor."
Hestia blinked her large eyes, tilting her head to the side.
"What do you mean, Dante? The 12th floor, didn't you just fight against the Imps and the Needle Rabbits that get more aggressive?"
"Yes. But it is also the territory of the Orc, as you had said before" Dante responded with a surgical coldness.
Hestia's jaw dropped instantly. Her eyes widened so much that they looked like two full moons in the dark basement, and she slowly raised her head to face Dante, her voice completely stuck in her throat.
"W... What... don't tell me you fought against an Orc!? That Orc?!" she stammered, pointing her trembling finger at him.
"You are right, an Orc. A creature three meters tall, pure brute strength and armored hide" explained Dante, without altering his tone of voice, as if he were describing the weather outside. "He cornered me at the end of the floor. I just needed to use force, find the gap in his guard, and cut in the right place. The Demon Slayer did the rest."
"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, DANTE?!" Hestia's scream echoed just as loudly through the stone walls, again. "An Orc?! Those monsters that crush experienced adventurers with a single punch?! Before it was just a worry about the possibility of you meeting one, now I know that you in fact met one and fought against it!"
Dante shrugged slightly.
"Rose Fannett's reaction at the Guild was exactly the same as yours."
He leaned back in the broken chair, remembering the chaos at the service counter.
"When I threw the Orc's magic stone and the Hard Armored's carapace onto her desk, she almost broke her own pen. She slammed both hands on the counter, her face went completely red, and she started shouting at me in the middle of the hall.
"She said I was completely insane, a monster disguised as a human, and that I was turning her night into a hell because she would have to spend the whole dawn filling out anomaly reports to justify all this money for a Level 1."
Hestia was still breathing at an accelerated pace, looking at him with a mixture of overwhelming pride and a retrospective fear that made her legs tremble.
"Did she... did she curse at you a lot?" Hestia asked, her eyes half-welled with tears.
"She threatened to drag me out of the Dungeon by my ears if I try to go down to the 13th floor tomorrow." Dante gave a rare and subtle smirk, finding amusement in the fury of the red-haired wolf. "But she paid every valis that was due".
Hestia swallowed hard, the initial shock slowly transforming into a deep realization.
She walked around the table, ignoring the gold, and threw herself against Dante's chest, hugging his waist with a strength surprising for her diminutive size.
"You incredibly strong silly..." she whimpered, hiding her face in his shirt. "You are going to kill me of a heart attack before we become a famous Familia."
Dante sustained the embrace, placing his heavy hand on top of Hestia's head to calm her down. The labyrinth could be a hell of stone and blood, but the return home was always worth it.
"And your day, Hestia?" he asked, with his hoarse voice, demonstrating a genuine interest that he rarely directed toward any other person in the city. "What did you do while I was away? I know you started at the Jagamarukun stall early today. How did the owner and the customers treat you?"
Upon hearing the question, Hestia's eyes shone instantly. All the tension accumulated by the shock of the report about the Orc seemed to dissipate, giving way to a contagious animation.
Hestia gave a little laugh, her energy and happiness returning, straightening her posture and puffing out her cheeks with a silly pride.
"Ah, Dante. It was real madness, but I did super well, you know?" she began, opening a smile from ear to ear. "The stall owner is a bit grumpy at first, he keeps shouting at everyone, but when he saw how hard-working I am, he softened up. I spent the whole afternoon with my sleeves rolled up, frying those potato cakes in the hot oil. The steam rises in your face, the oil splashes a bit on your hands... but I didn't give in"
She stood up from the chair, mimicking herself at the stall, swinging her arms with enthusiasm while the iconic blue ribbon on her chest accompanied her movements.
"I shouted with all the strength of my lungs: 'Come taste the Jagamarukun, it's the cake that gives the strength of a god to adventurers!'".
"And it worked, Dante. I attracted so many customers that the dough stock almost ran out early. There were even some adventurers from the Ganesha Familia who stopped to praise my energy! I felt so proud to see those coins entering the box... I thought 'Every cake I sell is support for my Dante down there'."
She smiled from ear to ear, proud of her achievement.
The tone of her voice softened suddenly, she dropped her arms and sat back down in the chair, and she looked at her own hands on the table, fidgeting with her fingers with a milder and more melancholy smile, and she began to trace invisible circles on the table with her index finger.
"But... to be honest, after my shift ended and the sun began to vanish, the basement became so silent. I tried to tidy some things, I cleaned the house, cleaned the stove, but the truth is that I couldn't stop looking at the door".
"I would prepare the stew and think: 'Is he already coming up? Is he hungry?'. Every sound of wind outside made me think it was you returning. I got so scared of you getting hurt, Dante... Orario can be a very cruel place for someone who is alone."
She raised her eyes again, and all the melancholy dissipated upon meeting the focused and understanding gaze of the young man.
She extended her hand across the table, lightly touching his bandaged fingers.
"But now you are here. And seeing all this..." she glanced at the mountain of valis. "I think my Jagamarukun salary is going to be just pocket money next to the fortune you brought! But I won't give up, I will continue working hard to support you in every way possible".
Dante looked at Hestia's hand over his, feeling the simple warmth of that connection. For someone who had spent the day surrounded by ash dust, dark blood, and the cold greed of the city, listening to Hestia's simple and devoted account was the true banquet of that night.
"Thank you for dinner, Hestia" he said, his voice calm and firm. "And for your effort on the surface. Both of us are doing our part."
Dante observed Hestia's face for a few more seconds.
Her physical fatigue was evident, but the emotional wear and tear she had suffered that afternoon, split between the hot oil of the Jagamarukun stall and the suffocating anxiety of waiting for him to return from the Dungeon, weighed even more.
Without saying a single word, Dante pushed his chair back and stood up.
He walked around the old wooden table until he stopped right beside the goddess. Before Hestia could understand what was happening, he leaned down and, with impressive ease, passed one of his bandaged arms behind her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her from the floor in a fluid movement.
"HE-HEY! Dante?" Hestia let out a small squeak of surprise, instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders so as not to fall. Her twin tails swung in the air and her cheeks gained an instant crimson hue. "What are you doing? Put me on the ground"
"You worked hard on the surface" Dante responded, his hoarse voice sounding firm and leaving no room for argument as he began to walk toward the back of the basement. "And both of us are smelling like oil and ashes. Let's solve this at once".
Hestia blinked her large eyes, her mind processing his words as the warmth of Dante's body enveloped her.
"Wait... Both of us? Together?!" she stammered, her face exploding into a red so intense that it looked like she was going to faint right there. The iconic blue ribbon on her breasts stretched as she tried to hide her face in his chest. "D-Dante, this is...this is very sudden! A goddess and her child... taking a bath together... as if they were..."
"As if we were a Familia" Dante cut her off calmly, although there was a subtle tone of amusement in the corner of his lips. "And you suggested the bath yourself just a moment ago. I am just accepting the offer."
"Gah!" That embarrassment turned back against her quickly.
Upon hearing his irrefutable argument, Hestia stopped protesting. She puffed out her cheeks in a grumpy and embarrassed pout, but relaxed her body, leaning her head against Dante's shoulder and allowing herself to be carried.
They crossed the small partition that led to the bathroom in the back area, where a large wooden tub sat. Dante deposited Hestia gently on the floor and began to prepare the hot water she had already left pre-heated on the stove.
The small bathing area in the back of the basement was impregnated with the dense and warm steam of the water Hestia had left prepared.
The illumination came only from a single low-intensity magic light stone lamp, casting soft and welcoming shadows against the rustic stone walls.
Dante took a step forward and untied the cords that held his combat trousers, letting the heavy fabric fall to the stone floor, followed by his undergarments.
His body stood entirely naked under the soft light of the magic lamp, revealing the dense musculature shaped by the brutal effort of the Dungeon, marked by scars and the discrete glow of the divine runes on his back.
Hestia, standing a few steps away, swallowed hard. Although she was already with her cheeks flushed by the heat of the environment, seeing the imposing nudity of her child made her heart accelerate.
'It's big' Hestia thought internally with her hands covering her face, but with clear gaps between them.
With hands slightly trembling but decided, she brought her fingers to the knot of the iconic blue ribbon that crossed her arms and spoke, undoing it, leaving it over the wooden bench.
Next, she slid the white dress down her shoulders, letting the fabric slip down her body to the floor, revealing her full curves entirely naked and large, soft breasts being affected by gravity.
The initial shyness hovered in the air for a brief second, but the complicity between the two soon filled the space. Before entering the tub, the hygiene ritual needed to be fulfilled.
Dante crouched near the bucket of warm water and the wooden bench.
He picked up a small bowl and poured water over his own shoulders first, letting a sound of satisfaction escape as the water washed away the surface dust.
Hestia approached slowly from behind him, picking up the soap and the damp sponge.
"Let me help with this first" she said, her voice a bit lower than usual, but full of affection.
She began to lather Dante's muscular back, rubbing firmly to remove the persistent soot and the remnants of dried monster blood that had stuck to his skin during the battles.
Hestia washed Dante's back carefully, feeling his trained back, she couldn't help but feel filled with admiration.
Dante closed his eyes, feeling the small and agile hands of the goddess undo the knots of tension in his shoulders.
When she finished, he took the bowl and threw several portions of warm water over his back, watching the grey foam run across the stone floor.
"My turn" murmured Dante, turning to her.
Hestia turned her back, holding her black hair at the top of her head so as not to wet it.
Dante took the lathered sponge and, with a surprising delicacy for his large and calloused hands, began to pass it over the shoulders and back of the goddess.
He carefully cleaned the sweat and the smell of frying oil that had remained impregnated in her after the long work shift at the Jagamarukun stall.
Hestia let out a relaxed sigh, tilting her head back as she felt the careful touch of her adventurer eliminating the fatigue of her day on the surface.
After Dante threw the clean water over her to rinse away all the foam, the two changed their pace.
Completely clean of the dirt of the outside world, they took the final steps toward the wooden tub, ready to finally sink into the warmth of the water that awaited them.
The warmth of the water enveloped the two as soon as they submerged into the large wooden vat. However, the basement of the abandoned church imposed its limitations.
The tub, which originally was sufficient to hold only the small goddess, became an incredibly reduced space with the imposing physical presence of Dante.
Hestia ended up positioned right in front of him.
Due to the lack of space to stretch her legs, she needed to nestle almost into the young man's lap, with her back partially leaning against the robust chest of the adventurer and her legs bent, sharing the same recess of steaming water.
The proximity and mutual nudity took their toll instantly. Hestia's face exploded into a hue of crimson so vivid that it seemed to radiate its own heat through the steam.
She gathered her arms against her own chest, trying to occupy the least space possible, while her large eyes stared fixedly at the water, not knowing exactly where to look.
"D-Dante..." she stammered, her voice coming out in a sharp and trembling whisper, betraying the embarrassment that made her heart hammer against her ribs. "It got... it got a bit tighter than I calculated. A-Are you comfortable? I'm not crushing your legs after all your effort in the Dungeon, am I?"
Dante, whose arms rested relaxed on the wooden edges of the tub, sustained the proximity with his usual calmness. He looked down, observing the top of Hestia's head and the improvised bun that left her nape exposed to the steam.
"It's fine, Hestia" he replied, his hoarse voice vibrating subtly against the goddess's back due to the direct physical contact. "The water is hot and the space is the least of it. Just relax. You spent the whole afternoon on your feet at the stall."
Upon feeling the vibration of his voice and the tranquil firmness of his words, the tension in Hestia's shoulders began, very slowly, to give way.
She let out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding and allowed her body to relax, leaning with a bit more surrender against his chest.
The warm water floated around her shoulders, creating a bubble of perfect isolation.
"Yeah... you're right" she murmured, her tone of voice softening as the embarrassment gave way to a deep comfort. She tilted her head slightly back, looking sideways at the profile of her son's face. "It's just... it's the first time we've been this close. It's a bit embarrassing for a goddess, you know? But... your chest is very warm, Dante. It's a good place to rest".
Dante did not respond with words, but shifted his shoulders slightly, accommodating her even more securely against himself. In that misty and tight cubicle, the silence that settled was no longer of shyness, but of a solid and shared intimacy.
The marks of the Jagamarukun oil, soot, and fatigue had gone down the drain, inside there, only the certainty remained that neither of them would ever have to face the immensity of that city alone again.
The comfortable silence that had settled in the misty vat began to change its pace.
The heat of the water, previously just relaxing, now seemed to intensify the static electricity running between the two.
With every breath Hestia took, the movement of her back against Dante's bare chest created a subtle, but dangerously conscious friction.
Hestia shifted her hips slightly to try to accommodate her legs in the reduced space. The movement caused her full, soft curves to slide directly against Dante's intimacy and firm thighs.
A distinct shiver ran down the goddess's spine, and she let out a breathless sigh, catching her breath.
Her cheeks, which were already flushed, burned with a fire that did not come from the steam.
Dante, who until then had maintained a rigidly calm posture, felt his muscles contract.
His arms, previously resting on the wooden edges, descended slowly.
His large hands, calloused by the hilt of the Demon Slayer but now bare of bandages, rested firmly on the sides of Hestia's slim waist. His fingers pressed into the goddess's soft, damp skin, subtly pinning her in place.
"Dante..." his name came from Hestia's lips in a whisper, almost a low moan.
She tilted her head all the way back, resting it on his shoulder.
Her large eyes were half-open, shining with a desire she had never shown before. The proximity was such that Dante could feel the accelerated pulsing of her heart.
Without haste, but with an implacable intensity, Dante brought his face close to the curve of Hestia's neck.
His lips brushed the warm, damp skin there, distributing slow, deliberate kisses that caused the goddess to gasp and tighten her hands against the edges of the wooden tub.
One of his hands rose from her waist to her abdomen, moving slowly up the wet skin until it rested just below the contour of her full breasts, feeling the frenetic rhythm of her heart.
"You said Orario is a cruel place for someone who is alone" Dante's voice echoed right next to her ear, hoarser and deeper than usual, sending a new wave of chills through the goddess's body. "But inside here, we are not alone".
Hestia released one hand from the edge and brought it backward, burying her fingers in Dante's white, damp hair, subtly pulling him closer, deepening the contact.
Hestia gasped, her back arching subtly against Dante's chest when his lips rose from her neck to the line of her jaw, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses.
The sensation of his calloused hands rising up her ribs, firm and possessive, caused her divine mind to enter a complete short-circuit of pleasure.
"D-Dante... more..." she begged quietly, turning her face sideways to try to find his mouth, her lips half-open and thirsty.
Dante did not make her wait. He captured Hestia's virgin lips in a deep, slow kiss laden with an intensity he had been saving.
His tongue invaded her mouth with dominance, finding Hestia's in a rhythm that made the goddess moan quietly against his mouth, the sound muffled by the splashing of the water around them.
Dante's hand that was rising up her abdomen finally reached one of her full breasts, squeezing the soft flesh with the firmness of someone who knew the strength necessary not to hurt, but molding it with the firmness necessary to make her shudder.
His thumb brushed the nipple, already rigid with desire, tearing a start from the goddess.
Hestia shifted her hips again, now completely deliberately, pressing herself against the obvious rigidity of Dante that rose beneath her in the warm water.
The heat between her legs found his through the friction, creating a wave of electricity that made the goddess's small fingers bury themselves hard into the adventurer's broad shoulders, lightly scratching his skin in search of support.
"You are... my Dante... my only..." she whispered between his lips when the kiss broke for a brief second, her large, bright eyes fixed on his purple ones, completely surrendered.
Dante held her tighter by the waist; the water overflowed over the wooden edges, wetting the stone floor of the basement, but neither of them cared as they continued to give themselves to each other in the kiss.
The goddess let out a muffled cry against his shoulder, tightening her arms around his neck as she felt an immense passion fill every space of her being.
The heat inside there was almost unbearable, fueled by the dense steam and the fire that burned between the two.
Hestia buried her fingers in Dante's damp hair, pulling him to herself, seeking his mouth in a desperate kiss, mixing the taste of the warm water with the heat of their lips.
Each movement of his tongue took her to the limit, making her mind spin in a whirlwind of purely carnal sensations.
"Dante...my Dante..." she panted between the kisses, her voice failing, completely delivered to the implacable rhythm he dictated.
The heat they shared inside there now challenged any limit between divinity and mortality, transforming the tight basement into the setting of a mutual and fiery surrender.
------------xXx------------
(Rose Fannett Side)
The Guild hall already had its lights partially extinguished, leaving only the distant echo of the cleaning staff's footsteps.
Behind the main counter, the advisors' file area was overtaken by the silence of the night, broken only by the harsh sound of parchment sheets being turned forcefully.
Rose Fannett was sunk in her chair, her wolf ears drooped to the sides in a pure sign of exhaustion and her red hair visibly messed up from running her hands through it so much.
In front of her, two of her closest coworkers, Eina Tulle and Misha Flott, observed her with expressions that mixed curiosity and concern.
"Rose, you are already on the third Dungeon anomaly report. What happened?" asked Eina, the half-elf, adjusting her glasses with her usual calm and professional posture. "Did some Level 2 party do something stupid again?"
"I wish it were that, Eina... I wish it were" Rose let out a frustrated groan, throwing her quill pen onto the desk, where a massive pile of stamped sheets displayed the name of Dante.
"I just passed the worst migraine of my life because of a rookie. A single Level 1 guy."
Misha, who was drinking a glass of water to end her shift, let out a light chuckle.
"A Level 1? What did he do? Cry on the 3rd floor because he was bitten by a Kobold and demanded a potion refund?"
"He descended to the 12th floor. Alone. Can you imagine? Making a solo exploration to the 12th floor with less than a week of being an adventurer" Rose fired the sentence all at once, tapping her index finger on the top of the pile of documents.
Misha's laughter vanished instantly. She choked on the water, coughing as she tried to regain her breath.
Eina, for her part, completely stopped the movement of her hands. Her green eyes widened behind the lenses of her glasses.
"The... the 12th floor?" Eina repeated, her voice losing its melodious line and faltering. "Rose, that is impossible. The 12th floor is the limit of the Upper Floors. The density of monsters there requires battle formation, fatigue management... A solo Level 1 would be cornered and torn to pieces by Imps in a matter of minutes! Not to mention the Orc..."
"Ah, the Orc. I'm glad you mentioned the Orc!" Rose stood up from her chair, frustration overflowing in her gestures as she walked from one side to the other. "He didn't just survive the Imps. He went head-to-head with a Hard Armored, broke the creature's carapace, and to close the night with a golden key, sliced a three-meter Orc in half with that gigantic black sword! He brought the Orc's stone magic. It was the size of my head, Eina!"
Misha widened her eyes, leaning on Rose's counter to look at the exchange slips.
"Wait, Rose... That means the volume of valis you released to him tonight..."
"It was an obscene fortune for a rookie" Rose vented, pulling her own red ears downward. "I spent the whole morning delivering the monster guide to him, explaining step by step how rookies die from overconfidence. I did my role as a perfect advisor"
"And what does he say to me when he throws that mountain of drops on my desk? The guide was useful. The Orc was just a matter of cutting in the right place. Cutting in the right place. He acted as if he were cleaning the kitchen, and not slicing a monster that incapacitates Level 2 veterans."
Eina picked up one of the sheets filled out by Rose, analyzing the data with furrowed brows.
The initial shock on her face was slowly giving way to an expression of deep seriousness and caution.
"A matter of cutting in the right place..." murmured Eina, feeling a light chill down her spine.
"Rose, the physical strength necessary to split an Orc in half in a single blow challenges the logic of the Falna system itself for a newcomer. If he did all this alone in less than 1 week, his growth rate... or the structure of his power... is not normal. Which Familia did he say he was from?"
"Hestia Familia" Rose responded, snorting and throwing herself back into her chair. "A goddess with a blue ribbon who just arrived in Orario and has no other members. The boy is doing all this without support, without a rearguard, without anything".
"That is terrifying... and fascinating" Misha commented, looking toward the window that opened onto the dark street of Orario. "A monster disguised as a human walking around. The gods are going to find out about this soon, Rose. An anomaly like this doesn't pass unnoticed by the gods."
"I know. And that is exactly why I am frustrated" Rose covered her face with both hands, letting out a long sigh that mixed fatigue and a genuine advisor's worry. "Tomorrow management is going to interrogate me thinking I falsified the reports. I threatened to drag him from the Dungeon by his ears if he steps onto the 13th floor tomorrow..."
"But knowing the cold look of that boy under the hood, he is probably going to ignore my warning again. May the gods give me patience, because if Dante decides to solo the Middle Floors this week, the one who is going to end up dying of a heart attack is me".
"As if it wasn't enough having to deal with that stubborn Sword Princess, now there's another crazy genius to deal with" Rose murmured, already frustrated with it all.
---END---
To be continued....