The air in the dungeon was damp and heavy, as always, but this time Bell wasn't intimidated. On the first floor, surrounded by the shadows of the stone corridors, he advanced with firm steps. His dagger moved gracefully, almost as if it had a will of its own. Each goblin that appeared was dispatched with precise, fluid movements, as if Bell had been training in secret for years.
Pinned to his chest, a magic stone sparkled before falling to the ground with a soft clink.
Bell picked it up leisurely.
"This… feels completely different."
And it was true. There were no hesitations, no stumbles, no chaos from her first day. Now every step was measured, every attack balanced. It wasn't just luck. It was as if her body knew exactly what it was supposed to do.
As he wiped the blood from his dagger with a rag, he remembered what he had wished for the night before.
"I wish I could handle my weapons better…"
That simple phrase, almost tossed to the wind, had been enough. It had awakened a new blessing. She didn't need to see it written down to know it. She felt it in her muscles, in her rhythm, in her breathing.
Another goblin leaped from around a corner. Bell spun gracefully around the crude club and plunged his dagger into the creature's neck with a swiftness that surprised even him.
He fell. Another one.
"This is definitely not normal…"
But instead of worrying, she smiled. It was strange, yes, but also incredible. A gift. And she planned to take advantage of it.
As he walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoed with confidence.
"This will be a good day."
A goblin charged at him clumsily, roaring with its high-pitched, annoying screech. Bell dodged the attack with a nimble sidestep, pivoting on one foot, and counterattacking with his dagger in a clean sweep, straight for the neck.
The creature collapsed before he knew what had hit him.
Bell took a deep breath, still focused… though his mind, for a moment, wandered to something much less violent.
"How could it have ended like this…?"
Three days ago, at the tavern, everything had been going well… until he'd confused the salt shaker with the sugar bowl and ruined his own plate. Hestia had laughed so hard she'd almost choked on her drink.
And the next day, as I was updating his status, he burst out laughing.
"You have a new blessing!" she had said, laughing.
Bell still remembered how she told him with tears in her eyes from laughing so much.
"[Divine Blessing of Sodium Knowledge]! You will never mistake sugar for salt and vice versa!"
Bell had covered his face in embarrassment while Hestia laughed, rolling around in bed as if it was the best joke in the world.
"Why of all things… that?"
And yet, he couldn't deny that he now paid more attention before adding things to his food.
A new goblin appeared. Bell snapped back to reality, focused. The creature barely had time to raise its club. With a flick of his wrist and a step forward, Bell effortlessly brought it down.
He bent down, picked up another magic stone, and put it away.
"I guess even the most ridiculous blessings have their uses…"
But there was a certain pride in his smile. After all, this was all part of the journey that was leading him to becoming a hero.
Another goblin lunged at him, filthy claws outstretched, shrieking with rage. Bell twisted his body in response, naturally lowering his center of gravity, dodging beneath the attack, and plunging his dagger into the monster's stomach with surgical precision. The creature instantly shattered into particles.
Bell stood still for a moment, his chest rising and falling gently. Not from the exertion… but from the strange sensation that ran through his body every time he fought.
"I'm not thinking about what I'm doing."
It wasn't just a random idea. It was something that was starting to bother him.
He looked down at his dagger, his fingers gripping it firmly, but he didn't remember choosing to move that way. Every movement, every strike, every dodge… it just came. Natural. Efficient. Instinctive.
As if his body knew what to do without him having to think.
As if he had already fought thousands of times.
Bell swallowed.
"It's… weird. Like I'm just watching myself fight."
It wasn't that he felt ill. In fact, the result was impressive. The enemies on the first floor no longer posed any threat. But still, there was a subtle disconnect between his will and his body. A mismatch.
He could do everything perfectly… but he didn't understand how or why.
And that worried him.
[Divine Blessing of Combat Mastery]
He remembered how it had appeared right after his wish to "fight better." A skill that granted him complete mastery in all forms of fighting. Without training. Without learning. Just… knowing.
But knowing was not the same as understanding.
And that was the problem.
"What if I face something stronger? What if my body fails? Will I know how to adapt... or will I just stand by and watch as I'm overwhelmed?"
He shook his head and took a defensive stance as he heard a noise from a crack in the wall. Two more goblins staggered out.
He couldn't afford to hesitate. Not now.
And yet, while her body reacted with impeccable fluidity, her mind continued to carry that small shadow of uncertainty.
…
Bell left the dungeon as the sky began to turn orange, marking the end of the afternoon. He walked with a calm but heavy gait, as if the weight in his backpack was less than the one he carried on his shoulders.
He'd had a good day. Many enemies were defeated, no serious injuries, and his bag full of magic stones. But even so, his expression was somewhat subdued.
"I'm fighting well… but I don't even know if I'm the one doing it."
His body continued to react with that automatic, almost mechanical control. Almost perfect. But that only made him feel more disconnected from himself. As if he were a spectator inside his own body.
He ran a hand over his face, which was sweaty and covered in dust from the Dungeon, and sighed. "Well… at least I'm making progress."
Despite everything, it was undeniable that he was making progress. And fast.
"I still have a long way to go…"
Then, as if something stung him, he dusted his clothes off, forced a smile, and muttered, "But if I don't strive to understand my own strength… I won't get very far, will I, Grandpa?"
And with that, he began walking back to the city, the sun at his back and the streets of Orario waiting for him.
As he walked through the plaza that connected the Tower of Babel to the Orario neighborhoods, Bell continued moving forward, paying little attention to his surroundings. His mind kept revolving around the blessing that made him move like an expert, without understanding how or why.
It was then that he passed a figure going in the opposite direction.
It was a girl.
Her figure was slender, with a calm but firm presence. Her long, golden hair fell like a cascade of light down her back, and her eyes—though Bell didn't look directly into them—had a golden hue that captured the eye. She wore a light, pale tunic and a short skirt that revealed her legs. At her waist hung a thin but sharp sword. Her gait was elegant, silent... almost as if she didn't touch the ground.
Bell didn't notice her. He was too deep in thought, frowning slightly as he muttered to himself.
The girl, on the other hand, did notice him as he passed by. She saw him with his disheveled white hair, his backpack clinking with magic stones, his tired but determined gait. And his expression, a mixture of confusion, concentration, and effort.
Then, without changing his tone of voice, or looking at anyone in particular, he murmured in a low voice:
"It looks like a bunny…"
A slight smile appeared on her lips as she watched him walk away.
Adorable.
Although Bell didn't notice, his relationship number went from 0 to 3.
…
Bell finally arrived at the old abandoned church. His steps were somewhat slow, not so much because of the weight of the backpack on his back, but because of the accumulated fatigue of the day. Still, there was a spark of satisfaction in his eyes: he had fought, he had survived… and he had learned a little more about himself.
The heavy door creaked open.
"Bell!" a cheerful voice exclaimed from inside.
Hestia came running from the back of the room with an expression of pure excitement, as if she hadn't seen him in days.
"Welcome back~!" she said, raising his arms.
Bell smiled, tired but happy to see her.
"I'm here, Hestia," he replied, setting his backpack aside. "It's been a long day."
"I see, I see!" she said as she circled him to see if he had any injuries. "Did you eat? Did they hit you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I promise," he said with a small laugh. "Just a little tired."
Hestia nodded, narrowing her eyes as if she didn't quite believe him, but she didn't press the issue.
"Then sit down and rest a little. Today it's my turn to pamper you, understand? The hero of my Family deserves a warm welcome."
Bell blushed slightly, but obeyed, sinking into one of the church's makeshift armchairs with a sigh of relief.
It was an old place, full of dust, with cracks where the wind blew through, but for them... it was home.
After Bell settled in a bit, and after Hestia's insistence with an overly mischievous smile, the usual moment arrived: the status update.
Bell sat on the floor as Hestia stood behind him, taking out a small needle with which she would prick his finger.
"Are you ready?" she asked in a sing-song voice.
"Yes," Bell replied, his shirt already removed. By now, the shame of that ritual was beginning to dissipate… though not entirely.
Hestia made the small cut and dripped a drop of blood onto Bell's back. As always, the sacred symbols began to glow, and his relaxed expression gradually changed to a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
"…Another one?" he muttered.
"Another what?" Bell asked, turning his head slightly.
"A new blessing," she explained, narrowing her eyes. "Below the previous one… [Divine Blessing of Sodium Knowledge]…"
Bell felt a chill.
"What is this one called?"
Hestia blinked twice, then read aloud, trying to hold back a giggle. "[Divine Blessing of Attire]: Enables one to choose suitable clothing for anyone."
"…That?"
"It's useful!" she said, trying to sound serious, but her tone held a treacherous mix of amusement. "Can you imagine? You could help anyone look amazing! You could be a stylist!"
Bell turned a little further, a drop of sweat on his temple.
"Why do I feel like these blessings are starting to get… weird?"
"Weird?"
"First sugar and salt... and now this one. I'm not saying they're not useful, but..."
"…they're not exactly useful for fighting," Hestia completed for him, resting her chin on his shoulder.
Bell nodded.
Hestia glanced at him and then smiled sweetly.
"Maybe it's because heroes also need to know when to use salt or sugar… or what clothes look good on a princess in distress."
Bell gave a small, resigned laugh.
"…Maybe."
Despite her doubts, deep down she felt a spark of excitement. Because while they were strange, each blessing was living proof that her desire to become stronger was resonating throughout the world. Although, apparently… that world also had a rather peculiar sense of humor.
The next morning, the first rays of sunlight had just begun to filter through the broken windows of the old church when Bell felt someone gently shake him.
"Bell! Bell, wake up now!"
The young man slowly opened his eyes, still sleepy, to find Hestia's smiling face leaning over him.
"G-Goddess-sama? Is something wrong?"
"Yes! Let's go out!"
Bell blinked. "Exit…?"
"Shopping!" she exclaimed, throwing up both arms excitedly. "It's my day off work! And you're working too hard in the Dungeon. Today we're going to relax and spend time together, okay?"
Bell sat up, still half-dazed. "I'm not going to the Dungeon today…?"
"Don't even think about it!" she said, crossing her arms with a firm expression. "A hero needs breaks too… and decent clothes. You can't go through life in that same half-torn leather vest."
"But…"
"No 'buts,' Bell. I've already made my decision. You're going to accompany your goddess on a lovely walk through the streets of Orario."
Bell sighed with a surrendered smile. "Understood."
Soon after, they left the church. Hestia was wearing a simple but pretty white dress, and Bell was wearing his usual clothes, though he felt increasingly aware of how simple they were compared to what others wore.
As they walked along the cobblestone paths of the city center, Hestia grabbed his arm without asking. Bell blushed, but said nothing. The Goddess shopped around, pointed out unnecessary things with overflowing excitement, and even tried to drag him into an accessory store.
"Come on, Bell, you can't say no!" she insisted, tugging at his arm with a seemingly endless energy.
Bell, with his usual expression of gentle resignation, followed her without much resistance. "All right, all right… But at least tell me what we're going to buy."
"Anything we want!" Hestia replied, grinning from ear to ear. "It's my day off, you're resting, and we both need it. It's a heavenly shopping date!"
Bell blushed a little. "A date…?"
"Of course. What, don't you want to go for a walk with your favorite goddess?" she said with a mischievous giggle, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
"It's not that! It's just that... well..." Bell muttered, not quite sure how to respond.
The scene was warm and almost everyday: Hestia walking ahead excitedly while Bell followed with a mixture of embarrassment and happiness. They passed through markets, tried street snacks, and stopped in shop windows to look at dresses Hestia clearly couldn't afford, but liked looking at anyway.
"What do you think of this one, Bell?" she asked, holding up a light red dress with white trim.
Bell looked at her for a second and, without quite knowing why, replied, "It's not your style. Something with darker tones... maybe blue or purple would suit you better."
Hestia looked at him in surprise. "Hey... that was pretty accurate. Aren't you a hidden fashion expert?"
Bell froze. For a moment, he remembered the blessing he had received just the night before: [Divine Blessing of Attire].
"I just... had a hunch," he said, scratching his cheek with a somewhat awkward smile.
Hestia narrowed her eyes and leaned dangerously close. "Bell... are you using me as a mannequin to practice your fashion taste?"
"No!! I swear I don't!!"
They both burst into laughter as they continued their walk. The day had started as a simple rest, but without realizing it, it was turning into another small memory to cherish.
As they walked through one of the market's quieter aisles, amid the bustle of vendors selling fruit, fabrics, and magical accessories, something caught Bell's attention. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes fixed on a stall that seemed almost hidden between two larger ones.
"Hm? What's wrong, Bell?" Hestia asked, turning around when she noticed he had stopped.
Bell didn't respond immediately. His steps carried him by inertia toward the stall, approaching a garment hung carefully on a dark wooden base. At first, he thought it was just an elegant cloak, but upon closer inspection, he realized it had an upper body covering the torso, like a light jacket, attached to the cape that fell from the shoulders.
It was white, with a clean and simple design, but it had fine crimson red borders that gave it a heroic air. It had no symbols or excessive embellishments, just a small crescent-shaped buckle at chest level, and precise stitching that spoke of craftsmanship.
Bell looked at her in silence for a few seconds, and a voice in his head murmured: She's perfect... for me.
"Bell…" Hestia said curiously, noticing the sparkle in his eyes.
He didn't take his eyes off the garment. "It looks light... but durable. It's not ostentatious, but it has character. And the red..."
The goddess looked at him for a moment, then narrowed her eyes with a soft smile. "Want to try it on?"
Bell nodded, almost as if hypnotized. The stallholder, a dwarf with a braided beard and sleepy eyes, gave him permission with a vague gesture, more focused on his pipe than on his customers.
Bell removed his old leather breastplate and carefully slipped on his cape-jacket. It felt light, but as he moved his arms, he noticed it adapted to his movements as if it had been custom-made. He turned to a rusty mirror hanging in the corner of the stall… and couldn't help but smile.
"What do you think?" he asked, turning to Hestia.
She looked him up and down, crossing her arms. "Hmm… definitely more handsome than ten seconds ago."
Bell blushed. "Goddess!"
"It's true! And besides…" he leaned closer to touch the fabric, "I think it looks better on you than you imagine."
Bell looked down, still smiling. For some reason, that moment, that small instant of finding something that made him feel… like a hero, would stay with him.
"I'll take it," he said without hesitation.
"But you didn't ask the price!" Hestia exclaimed, surprised.
The vendor, without taking his eyes off his pipe, said, "Ten thousand valis."
Bell froze. "…what?"
"Sorry, kiddo. Handmade, sturdy, and a perfect fit. Ten thousand, and not less."
Bell looked at his money bag, then at his jacket. Then at his bag again. And then at his jacket.
Hestia watched him silently. Finally, she sighed. "If you're going to waste your savings, at least do it on something that makes you happy."
Bell pressed his lips together… and pulled out the money.
While the dwarf was lazily receiving the money, Bell kept his jacket on, as if he didn't want to take it off.
In his heart, he felt it clear: that coat wasn't just clothing. It was a symbol. Another step on his journey.
And, even if he didn't know it, that outfit would be part of his legend to come.
Bell and Hestia spent the rest of the day together, walking through the colorful alleys of the market, trying snacks from the stalls, and stopping to watch street performances where little magicians performed illusion tricks for children. There were no monsters, no fights, no worries. Just gentle laughter, silly jokes, and the kind of tranquility rarely found in Orario.
Hestia dragged Bell to an accessory shop just to try on ridiculous hats, and after much insistence, he ended up wearing one with bunny ears, causing the goddess to laugh so loudly that some passersby turned to look. Afterward, they shared a cold drink while sitting by a fountain, talking about nonsense, dreams, and how good it felt to not have to think about tomorrow for a while.
As the sun began to set behind the Tower of Babel, dyeing the sky shades of orange and pink, they both walked home with slow steps. Not because they were tired, but because they wanted this moment to last a little longer.
It was a simple day. No big events. But for both… it was perfect.
…
The next day, Bell rested in the plaza in front of the imposing Tower of Babel. His white cape with red accents fluttered gently in the breeze as he sat on the edge of a fountain, watching the adventurers come and go. It was one of those small moments of tranquility before plunging into the madness of the Dungeon.
Until a sweet and shy little voice interrupted his thoughts.
"U-um… Mr. Adventurer… do you need a supporter…? I… can help…"
Bell blinked. He looked around and looked down, finding a scene that almost seemed like something out of a story designed to melt hearts.
A tiny, fragile-looking pallum girl, barely visible behind a gigantic backpack that seemed ready to swallow her whole, looked up at him with bright eyes, a trembling smile, and a perfectly measured, pleading expression. Her light brown hair was neatly combed behind her hood, and her voice was so soft it seemed to doubt itself with every word.
"I know how to charge magic stones, cleanse drop crystals, and… and I'm not too bothersome. I just… I just want to work…" she said, clasping her hands in front of her chest, as if she were begging not to be rejected.
Bell felt a pang of guilt at the sight. Her aura of "tragic cuteness" was so intense that anyone would feel bad about saying no.
But…
-50.
The number floating above his head was not an illusion.
Minus fifty.
Bell felt a chill run down his spine. It was impossible not to notice. His blessing wasn't lying: this girl, who looked so adorable and vulnerable, detested him with every fiber of her tiny being. But then... why that smile? Why act so kind?
Bell swallowed uncomfortably. Despite his natural instinct to help and his soft heart, he couldn't ignore what his ability was telling him.
And that put him on alert.
Bell lowered his gaze slightly, looking more closely at the pallum girl in front of him. Her backpack seemed about to crush her, yet she continued to smile sweetly, with that honeyed little voice and the shy posture of someone begging for a chance.
But that -50 floating over her head didn't disappear.
The contrast unnerved him. It was as if there were two versions of that girl at the same time: the adorable, humble one before his eyes… and a completely opposite one whose blessing whispered in his ear.
"What kind of person smiles like that and hates me so much?" he thought, trying not to frown.
His mind began to race, reviewing possibilities.
Maybe she wanted to scam him. She could pretend to be a harmless supporter, work with him, and then disappear with whatever valuables they collected. Or worse… maybe she planned to abandon him in the middle of the Dungeon, where there would be no rules, no laws, no witnesses. On those floors, anything could happen.
"The Dungeon is not a place to trust blindly…" he thought seriously.
The memory of Hestia's teachings and her own lack of experience added weight to her concern. She was just getting started. Trusting the wrong person so early could be a fatal mistake.
Bell gulped discreetly, trying not to show her discomfort. As pretty as she looked, something didn't add up. And for now, it was best to proceed with caution.
Bell forced a smile, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
"Sorry… but I already have a route planned for today. Besides, I'll only be on the first few floors, so I don't think I'll need any help yet."
The pallum tilted her head, her expression dejected as if it came straight out of a play.
"H-huh? Really? But… I can carry heavy things, look at my backpack!" she said, giving it a little spin to show it off proudly, though he almost lost his balance in the process.
Bell scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Really, thank you. But today… I'd rather go alone."
She nodded sadly, lowering her head. "I understand…" she murmured, before turning and starting to walk away with short, slow steps, as if she expected him to change his mind at any moment.
Bell watched her silently as she disappeared into the crowd in the plaza. The charming smile she'd given him didn't match the -50 that still floated in his mind like a silent warning. A contradiction too great to ignore.
"Even though she looks harmless... something about her isn't right," he thought.
So, as he resumed his journey toward the Dungeon, Bell decided to make a mental note of that pallum girl. Her face, and her voice were etched in his memory. He didn't know exactly what she wanted, but he wouldn't be naive. If he ran into her again, he wouldn't treat her like any stranger.
Prevention is better than cure.