Chapter Text
The world around him blurred.
His chest burned, his muscles screamed, and blood dripped from his brow.
Bell Cranel had lost.
His final strike had met the monstrous power of Asterius head-on. Bell had poured everything into that blow—an Argonaut charged for twenty full seconds—yet it still wasn’t enough.
His sword shattered on impact. Asterius caught him mid-air and hurled him straight toward the Dungeon’s entrance, slamming him hard into the ground.
The last thing Bell remembered before darkness claimed him…
was the voice of his rival.
The very rival he had wanted so desperately to surpass.
It was deep, and almost... reverent.
"That makes it one to one. The next duel will decide everything, Bell."
With that, Asterius turned and disappeared into the Dungeon.
Bell was left lying there, broken and unmoving.
The world around him was dissolving—blurring further with every heartbeat.
His vision flickered between light and shadow, the roar of the crowd fading into a distant, hollow echo.
His body refused to move.
He had reached his absolute limit.
And then—
Silence.
Bell lay on the ground, gasping for breath, his mind swirling with disbelief.
“I lost… again,” he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes.
His trembling fingers clenched the dirt beneath him.
Every fiber of his being screamed—not in pain, but in something far crueler.
Disappointment.
He had fought with everything he had.
He had given it his all.
And still… it wasn’t enough.
Bell closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath—just enough strength to stand, or at least wait until someone from his Familia found him.
But before he could recover, something happened.
Something he hadn’t expected.
A crowd began to gather near the top of Babel.
Dozens of citizens from Orario had rushed over, peering down at him from above.
Some looked on with pity…
But far more gazed with suspicion.
With anger.
With contempt.
And then—
They started shouting.
“You lost on purpose, didn’t you?! Monster-loving traitor!”
“Look what you’ve done to this city! And now you just lie there, while that monster walks back into the Dungeon like nothing happened!”
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?!”
The accusations cut deeper than any blade.
More and more voices joined in, each one more venomous than the last.
Bell could only lie there, helpless—unable to speak, unable to defend himself.
Their words rained down on him like arrows, each one finding its mark.
In his mind, a single truth echoed.
I gave it everything...
He didn’t fight for fame.
He didn’t fight for gratitude.
He just wanted to defeat his rival.
He just wanted to prove himself—to Asterius, to himself.
But this?
This backlash, this hatred?
He hadn’t expected this.
Bell knew his reputation had suffered ever since the incident with the Xenos, ever since he saved Weine.
He knew people saw him differently now.
But even so—
Not like this.
Bell’s consciousness faded.
Exhausted beyond reason—body broken, spirit crushed—he slipped into unconsciousness once again.
When he came to, it was only barely.
He was being carried out of the Dungeon’s entrance, his body weak and motionless.
On one side of the stretcher walked Shakti, the captain of the Ganesha Familia.
On the other—
Hestia.
His goddess.
She noticed his half-open eyes and leaned closer, brushing a hand gently against his cheek.
“It’s going to be okay, Bell,” she whispered softly.
Bell looked up at her, barely able to nod.
Then his gaze shifted around him—scanning the faces of the adventurers and onlookers surrounding them.
And what he saw wasn’t kindness.
It wasn’t support.
He saw—
Doubt.
Hesitation.
Anger.
Whispers turned into shouts.
“How can you protect a monster-lover?!”
“He let that thing go free! What kind of Familia stands for that?!”
Some of the adventurers even hurled accusations at Hestia herself.
She stopped walking, turned sharply, and shouted back, her voice fierce despite the tears in her eyes.
“Bell is a good boy! He risked everything to protect you who needed help! How dare you judge him?! Leave him alone!”
But the words fell on deaf ears.
The doubt had already taken root.
Shakti and Hestia carried Bell through the stone corridors with determined urgency, his stretcher flanked by two healers. The crowd was left behind at Babel, though their words still echoed in Hestia’s mind like a bitter wind.
They laid him on a clean bed in one of the private treatment rooms. His armor was cracked, stained with blood and dust. The healers wasted no time—they activated potions and healing magic, their hands glowing faintly with pale light as they tended to his bruises, cuts, and broken ribs.
Bell winced in his sleep, unconscious but still visibly in pain.
Hestia stood nearby, clutching her own hands tightly, watching every movement with wide, worried eyes. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She only prayed—silently, desperately—that he would be alright.
Minutes passed. Then an hour.
Finally, one of the healers stepped back and gave her a soft, reassuring nod.
“His condition is stable. He needs rest, but the worst is over.”
Hestia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her knees nearly gave out, but she caught herself on the edge of the bed, reaching down to gently brush Bell’s hair away from his eyes.
“You scared me, Bell…” she whispered, voice trembling. “But you’re safe now.”
After few hours Bell slowly opened his eyes. The light above him was soft, and the air smelled faintly of medicine and lavender.
For a brief second, he forgot where he was.
Then the soreness hit him.
His whole body ached, but it wasn’t like before. It was manageable. He was alive.
He turned his head—and saw Hestia, asleep beside his bed, her arms folded on the mattress, her hair slightly messy from worry.
“Goddess…?” he murmured.
She stirred immediately, eyes flying open. The moment she saw him awake, her whole face lit up.
“Bell! You’re awake!”
He gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry… I made you worry again.”
Hestia shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “No… I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Later that evening, they left the medical wing together.
The streets were quieter now. The chaos from earlier had settled into silence. Bell walked slowly, leaning on Hestia’s shoulder for support. Every few steps made his ribs twinge, but he said nothing.
The city looked the same, but it didn’t feel the same.
He noticed the way people looked at him. Some turned away. Others whispered. A few still stared with cold eyes.
But next to him, Hestia kept walking with her head held high.
And that was enough.
When they finally reached their small home, Hestia opened the door for him, helped him inside, and guided him to his bed.
“Rest,” she said softly. “You’ve done enough for today.”
Bell nodded, sinking into the blankets. “Thank you… Goddess.”
“Always,” she whispered, pulling the blanket up over him. “I’m here. No matter what anyone says… I’ll always be here.”
Bell drifted into sleep, his body finally allowing itself to rest.
But peace did not follow.
The darkness of his dreams was thick, suffocating.
And then—
Voices.
Distant at first, then sharper, louder.
“You lost on purpose, didn’t you?!”
“Monster-lover!”
“You brought chaos to our city!”
Faces swirled in the shadows. Angry faces. Disappointed faces. Even familiar ones—adventurers he once looked up to. People he had saved. People he had fought beside.
They all stared at him.
And turned away.
Then the dream shifted.
He stood alone in the Dungeon, deep in its endless stone corridors. No torchlight. No exit. Just silence… and something approaching from the dark.
Heavy footsteps echoed. A hulking figure emerged.
Asterius.
Bell raised a sword that wasn’t in his hands.
But the blade shattered.
Again.
And again.
No matter how many times he tried to lift it—it broke.
“You were never strong enough,” a voice said.
“You don’t belong in this world.”
He fell to his knees, powerless. He looked up, and now even Hestia was gone. Only the void remained.
“I gave it everything…” he whispered.
“And it still wasn’t enough.”
Bell awoke with a gasp, sweat clinging to his forehead. The room was dimly lit by morning sun spilling in through the curtains.
He lay there a moment, catching his breath, trying to shake off the cold weight of the dream. But its echoes still lingered.
Eventually, he sat up, sore but steady. He changed slowly, wrapped his torso in fresh bandages, and stepped out of his room.
The soft smell of breakfast reached him—simple rice, eggs, and tea.
In the kitchen sat Welf, Lili, Mikoto, Haruhime and of course, Hestia. They turned toward him as he entered.
The silence was thick—half relief, half tension.
“Morning,” Bell said quietly.
“You’re awake,” Lili said, setting down her mug. “Good. We need to talk.”
Hestia glanced at her, then back at Bell. “Only if you’re ready.”
Bell nodded. “I am.”
He took a seat across from them.
“Let’s talk,” he said. “About what happened… and what comes next.”
The kitchen was quiet as Bell sat at the familiar wooden table. Across from him sat his Familia — Hestia, Welf, Lili, Mikoto and Haruhime — each of them watching him not with suspicion, but with concern… and care.
A plate of food rested untouched in front of him. His hands lay folded in his lap.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Lili leaned forward, her voice calm and steady.
“Bell-sama… we supported you back then. When the city turned its back on you during the Xenos incident, we didn’t.”
“And we never will.”
Bell looked up, surprised by the certainty in her voice.
“We saw them too,” Welf added, arms folded. “Not just monsters. Not just enemies.”
“Wiene lived here with us,” Mikoto said quietly, a faint smile on her lips. “She smiled like a child… cried like a child. She was one of us.”
“They feel, Bell,” Lili continued. “They laugh. They dream. They suffer. Anyone who spent even a day with her could see that.”
Haruhime clasped her hands gently in her lap, her golden eyes shimmering with emotion.
“I remember… how Wiene held my hand when she was scared. How she smiled when she listened to your stories, Bell-sama.”
“She was kind. So gentle. And so afraid of being hated.”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“She wasn’t a monster. She was a child.”
“After living with her… I can’t believe people still think they’re all just beasts.”
Bell’s expression softened, pain and warmth mingling in his eyes.
Haruhime looked at him with quiet strength.
“Thank you… for not giving up on her. Or on them.”
Hestia nodded. “You’ve never been alone in this. We believe in you — not just because you’re strong, or because you fight… but because you always follow your heart.”
Welf added with a smirk, “If anyone tries to mess with you again, they’ll have us to deal with.”
“You’re not alone,” Mikoto said.
Lili folded her arms, more firmly this time.
“So whatever you decide next… we’ll stand with you. Just like always.”
Bell took a deep breath, meeting all their eyes one by one — and smiled.
“Thank you… all of you.”
“I don’t know what lies ahead. But I won’t stop. I’ll keep moving forward.”
The sun was already beginning to set, casting long orange shadows across the city. Bell walked through the quieter streets of Orario, his steps slow, thoughtful.
He didn’t tell anyone where he was going.
He didn’t need to.
His feet carried him instinctively—to the outer wall, where he used to train.
The place where he had first crossed swords with Ais Wallenstein.
Where he had bled, stumbled, risen, and grown.
But something felt… different now.
The city behind him felt heavier, like its very air was pressing down on him. Even the sky above felt distant.
As he passed through the last alleyway leading to the training grounds, he caught a glimpse of a small group of adventurers standing nearby, talking in low voices.
They noticed him.
And fell silent.
Bell didn’t recognize them. But the look in their eyes was enough.
Suspicion. Disdain. One of them even scoffed and turned away.
No words were spoken, but the message was clear.
Bell lowered his gaze and walked past them in silence.
He reached the outer wall. The high ledge overlooked the rolling fields beyond Orario. Wind tugged gently at his cloak.
He stood where he always stood. The very spot where Ais had once corrected his stance, where she’d smiled at him—not as a warrior, but as a comrade.
He unsheathed his weapon.
Tried a few swings.
But everything felt… off.
His movements were slow, disconnected. His heart wasn’t in it.
He stopped, gripping the hilt tightly.
“What am I even doing…?”
The silence answered him.
He stared out across the open plains, far beyond the city walls, into the fading horizon.
“I fought with everything I had. I stayed true to who I am. And still… it’s not enough.”
His grip loosened.
He let the sword fall gently to the ground.
“I’m not strong enough. Not yet.”
The thought crept into his mind like a whisper.
Maybe I don’t belong here.
Not until I’m strong enough to protect them.
Not until I can face everything this city throws at me… without breaking.
He took a deep breath.
And for the first time in a long while… the idea felt right.
Not like giving up.
But like choosing a different path.
“Maybe I need to leave Orario.”
He stared into the distance, wind brushing softly against his face.
The vast fields beyond the wall stretched out endlessly—open, wild, and free.
A sharp contrast to the narrow, judgmental streets of Orario behind him.
And then—
A voice, clear and steady, echoed in his memory.
Old. Kind. Stubborn.
"Do not leave your decisions to others. Not to people, not to spirits, and definitely not to gods. Don’t let anyone decide for you. This is your story."
His grandfather.
The man who’d raised him.
Who believed in his heart long before he had any strength in his arms.
Bell closed his eyes. That voice, those words… they had always stayed with him.
But lately?
He had forgotten them.
He had let the city push him, shape him, question him.
He had let others define who he was and what he should be.
Even now—he realized—everyone around him was trying to decide what he should do next.
The Guild. The citizens. Even his Familia, even if they meant well.
And that wasn’t how he wanted to live.
“No more.”
He looked down at his hands—still shaking slightly from the weight of it all.
“I won’t let the city define me. I won’t let anyone—human, god, or monster—make my choices for me.”
“If I’m going to protect them… if I’m going to face what’s coming…”
He took a step forward, toward the edge of the wall.
“…then I need to become stronger. On my own terms.”
Bell turned, facing the city one last time.
The walls that once felt like home now felt like a cage.
“I’m sorry, everyone. But I need to do this.”
The sun had fully set by the time Bell made his way back into the heart of Orario.
The streets were dimly lit by lanterns, the air cooler now, filled with the quiet hum of evening life. But even in the twilight, the stares remained.
And soon, so did the words.
“There he is. The Monster-lover.”
“Back from training with his pet, huh?”
“Thought he’d be hiding after that embarrassment…”
Bell heard them all.
The bitterness. The mockery. The venom.
Once, those words would have pierced him.
Once, he might have flinched.
Might have questioned himself.
Might have let doubt creep in again.
But now?
He just kept walking.
No angry retort. No lowered gaze.
Just a quiet, steady smile on his lips.
Because for the first time in days—
he knew what he had to do.
He wasn’t running away.
He was choosing.
And there was strength in that.
He passed the familiar buildings, the alleys he used to sprint through, the shops he once peeked into with awe.
Everything looked the same… but everything felt different.
As he turned the final corner and saw the warm glow of his home waiting ahead, his heart ached—but not with sadness.
With resolve.
The door to the Hestia Familia home creaked open as Bell stepped inside.
Warmth greeted him. The gentle glow of lanterns. The scent of tea. The quiet murmur of voices from the next room.
He stood in the entrance for a moment, just breathing it in.
Home.
And yet… not for much longer.
He stepped forward and called out:
“Can everyone come to the living room? Please… I need to talk to you.”
His voice was calm. Not strained. Not uncertain.
Just calm.
Within moments, they gathered—Hestia, Welf, Lili, Mikoto, and even Haruhime, who had just returned from the orphanage. They all looked at him with varying degrees of curiosity and concern.
Bell stood before them, arms loosely at his sides, his eyes steady.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
The room grew still.
“I’m leaving Orario.”
Gasps filled the room. Hestia stood up instinctively.
“Bell—what are you talking about?!”
“Not forever,” he said gently, raising a hand. “But… I need time. Time away from the city, from the pressure, the noise, the eyes on me.”
“I want to get stronger. Not just in power, but in who I am. I want to fight because I choose to, not because people expect me to. I’ve let others make too many choices for me. That ends now.”
Lili stepped forward, disbelief in her eyes.
“You’re just going to leave us behind? After everything we’ve been through? After our talk today?”
“No,” Bell said softly. “I’m not leaving you behind. I’m carrying you with me. Every step of the way.”
Welf let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn it, Bell…”
Haruhime’s eyes were already tearing up. “Is there truly no way we can change your mind…?”
Bell looked at them all. The faces that had stood by him in everything. His family.
“I love you all. You’ve done more for me than I can ever repay. But this is something I have to do—alone. For me.”
Finally, Hestia stepped forward. Her eyes shimmered, but her voice was strong.
“If this is truly your choice… then I won’t stop you.”
She looked up at him with a bittersweet smile.
“Just promise me one thing.”
Bell met her gaze. “Anything.”
“Come back to us. No matter how long it takes. Come home.”
Bell nodded, voice tight with emotion.
“I will.”
Bell sat on the edge of his bed, quietly folding the last of his belongings into a small travel bag. He didn’t own much. A spare shirt. His dagger. A few potions. His journal.
The room was silent, save for the soft rustling of cloth and leather.
Then—
A gentle knock on the door.
“Bell…? Can I come in?”
He paused. “Yeah… come in, Goddess.”
The door opened slowly, and Hestia stepped inside.
She closed it behind her and stood there for a moment, watching him pack. Her eyes were sad but calm, filled with something deeper than sorrow—understanding.
She walked over and sat beside him on the bed.
“So… you’re really going.”
Bell nodded, not looking at her. “I am.”
“You’re not running away, are you?”
“No,” he said softly. “I’m choosing my path. Just like you always told me I should.”
Hestia smiled faintly. “That’s my boy.”
Silence settled between them again. Then she reached out and gently touched his arm.
“Take off your shirt.”
Bell blinked. “W-What?”
She rolled her eyes with a small laugh, even as her voice trembled. “Not for that, you idiot. I need to unlock your Falna.”
His eyes widened. “But… why?”
“You’re going to be gone for a long time,” she said. “And you might end up far from Orario… far from me. If you meet a god—one you trust, one you believe in—someone who’s willing to walk with you… then I want you to have a choice.”
“A way to keep growing.”
Bell hesitated, then slowly pulled off his shirt, revealing the glowing emblem on his back.
Hestia placed her hand gently on it, fingers warm and steady. With a quiet incantation and a whisper only the gods knew, the seal of her blessing loosened… and faded.
Bell’s skin shimmered briefly. The bond was still there—but now unlocked, free to be rewritten.
Hestia lowered her hand, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“No matter where you go… no matter whose blessing you carry in the future… you will always be my first child.”
“You were the first to believe in me, just as I believed in you.”
She looked into his eyes, her voice breaking slightly.
“And I’ll be right here. Waiting. In Orario.”
“And when you return… I hope you come back to me.”
Bell’s heart ached.
He reached out and took her hands in his.
“Of course I will,” he whispered. “You’re my family. My home.”
“And nothing in this world will ever change that.”
They sat there in silence for a while, hands still joined, two hearts saying goodbye the only way they knew how—with love and hope.
The first light of dawn crept over the rooftops of Orario, casting a soft golden glow across the silent city.
The gates hadn’t yet opened to the flood of adventurers. The streets were still asleep. Peaceful.
Bell stood in the doorway of the only home he had ever truly known, his travel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked back one last time.
The small hallway. The kitchen table. The scent of tea and parchment and oil. The warmth that clung to every corner.
And behind him, in the shadows of the corridor, Hestia stood silently—watching, waiting.
Their eyes met. No words were spoken.
None were needed.
Bell offered her a gentle smile.
She nodded.
Then he turned, stepped outside, and closed the door behind him.
He passed through the sleepy streets of the city. A few guards nodded to him absently. No one recognized him in the soft morning light.
The city that had once cheered his name… now let him go in silence.
And that was okay.
He stepped through the outer gate just as it opened, the guards too tired to ask questions. The path beyond stretched wide and open—toward the unknown.
Bell took a deep breath.
His heart was heavy. But his spirit was light.
This wasn’t an end.
It was a beginning.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered to the wind.
“Stronger. Wiser. Ready.”
He didn’t look back again.
And with steady steps, Bell Cranel left Orario behind.