–
Hi everyone, here with a new update. Many thanks to Time_walker for reminding me about magic, I honestly forgot about it XD. Although I'm not going to implement it yet, possibly in the next chapter.
Here is the updated list as of this writing (double votes do not count, for either candidate):
Ryuu: 15
Riveria (wow): 22
Ais: 6
Freya: 7
Mikoto: 2
Hestia: 3
Artemis: 2
Another note: Someone recommended that I can find someone to serve as a beta reader to fix all the bugs before the final version. The thing is, I don't have the money to pay anyone, and I don't know anyone who speaks English as their first language who would do me the favor. So I'd need your recommendations.
–
Bell's footsteps echoed dully against the cobblestones as he walked aimlessly through the streets of Orario. The usual bustle of the city—merchants shouting their offers, adventurers loudly boasting about their exploits, children playing in the alleyways—it all seemed distant. As if he were submerged underwater.
Bell Cranel, the boy who dreamed of being a hero, shuffled his feet as if the world weighed on his shoulders.
"Was I naive all this time?"
He thought of Lili. Curled up in that cold corner, speaking to him in a hollow voice. A girl who had known hell, while he dreamed of saving princesses.
He thought of Naaza. An adventurer, an adventurer from one of the Medicine Families… trying to trick him for a few coins. And he didn't feel angry. He felt disappointed. Because he had believed that being part of a Family was synonymous with values and heroes.
He thought about the adventurers at the bar. About the looks they gave him. About the negative numbers floating above their heads.
"Is this what this world is like?"
Hestia always told him the Dungeon was cruel. That the world was cruel too. But it's one thing to hear it, and another to experience it. And now… now Bell lived it. Breathed it.
He passed by a group of adventurers. One of them burst out laughing and pushed him, without even noticing. Bell barely moved. He didn't even complain.
He just kept walking, his eyes lowered.
And in his mind… something creaked. Like a crack in glass.
Hope.
Faith.
His dream.
Was cracking.
And then, without knowing why, Bell looked up.
The sky in Orario was clear. Deep blue. A flock of birds flew across the Tower of Babel, as if nothing mattered.
But Bell didn't smile.
He just murmured, barely audible:
"…Maybe it's not worth it."
"Bell!"
The scream made him jump slightly. He literally hadn't felt her approaching, and when he turned around, there was Syr, smiling with that mixture of sweetness... although this time with a raised eyebrow.
"What are you doing walking around like the world is about to end?" she asked, crossing her arms as she stared at him.
Bell blinked, still puzzled. "Syr… I didn't see you coming…"
"And why that funeral face?" she persisted, ignoring his comment. "Did someone break your heart? Did they reject you? Did your goddess leave you without dinner?"
"It's nothing," Bell muttered, looking down.
Syr narrowed her eyes. She took a step closer and said in a soft but firm voice, "You don't seem well, Bell. And don't tell me it's 'nothing.' People who shuffle around like you usually aren't well."
Bell didn't respond. Not because he didn't want to, but because… he didn't know how to explain what he felt.
Syr then changed her tone. Her smile returned, although gentler this time. "Well, I know what you need. A hot meal. And I know just the place!"
Bell looked up, a little puzzled. "The Hostess of Fertility?"
"Exactly!" Syr said, pointing toward the side street. "And don't make that face. This time it's on me."
"Huh? No, I can't accept it! I don't have any money…"
"And what did I tell you?" Syr interrupted, sticking out her tongue playfully. "It's on me. I'm not asking you, Bell. It's an order."
Bell opened his mouth to protest, but something about the way she looked at him—a mix of warmth and stubbornness—made him stop. And for the first time all day, the weight on his chest eased a little.
"…Thank you," he murmured, letting out a small smile.
Syr nodded, as if she'd won an invisible battle. "Very well. Let's go, before Ryuu spills all the stew."
Bell walked behind Syr, letting the silver-haired girl guide him as she spoke casually about what they would be preparing at the tavern today. However, Bell barely paid attention to her. His eyes were focused on something else... or rather, on something else.
Above Syr's head, a number floated.
The number represented the strength of the bond between him and her. Or rather, how that person truly felt toward him.
With Hestia, it was easy. I was always at 45. But with Syr…
65. 74. 69. 73. 68. 75. 66. 72. 70.
It went up. It went down. It went up again. It fell again.
It was chaos.
Bell blinked. Something wasn't right. This wasn't normal. Emotional bonds shouldn't fluctuate so much. Not even in the middle of an emotional fight with someone. And yet, Syr—who walked as if everything were perfectly normal—blatantly showed it.
"Bell? Are you coming?" Syr turned slightly with a smile, noticing that he had fallen behind.
"Ah! Yes, yes, I'm going."
Bell quickened his pace, but his mind was still caught in that constant fluctuation of numbers. He'd seen fluctuations before, yes… but not like this. Not so rapid. Not so unpredictable.
And for the first time, Bell wondered with genuine concern: Who the hell is Syr really?
…
Flashback:
The wind at that height was constant, cutting, almost like a whisper of the gods among the gods.
Freya stood at the top of the Tower of Babel, her arms crossed behind her back, her long, dark dress billowing like smoke caught in the sky. Her eyes, like liquid silver gems, scanned Orario in silence.
From there, I could see everything. The streets, the squares, the rooftops. The people were nothing more than dots, dim lights moving routinely. Their souls, without exception, were opaque smudges not worth observing for long…
Except one.
Freya frowned. Her gaze focused on a part of the city, on a figure walking with his head bowed.
Bell Cranel.
The young man of the purest light.
The brightest flame I had ever seen.
The spark that had made her break her own rules, her own limits.
The one soul I couldn't ignore.
And now…
Her breath stopped.
The light that Bell radiated, that warm, brave, innocent essence…
It was going out.
Not just weakening. Withering.
"No…"
The goddess took a step back, her perfect expression cracking, her lips trembling with an emotion rare for her: panic.
"No… no, no, no! What did they do to him?!"
And without further ado, she turned on her heels and descended like a whirlwind.
Freya sped through the floors, heedless of etiquette, decorum, or discretion. As she reached the lower floors, a massive figure stood in her path.
"Lady Freya?" Ottar tilted his head in surprise, crossing his arms. "What's wrong?"
Freya, without stopping, looked at him with a mixture of urgency and barely contained rage.
"I have an emergency. I'm going out."
"Would you like an escort?"
"No. This is something I have to see to."
And without waiting for a response, he crossed the main doors of the Tower of Babel, his elegant gait turning into a determined march.
The goddess of beauty, the most distant of all, descended to the ground.
Because the soul that loved the most…
It was starting to fade.
Freya didn't think twice.
With a soft flash of pale light that barely illuminated the alleyway she turned into, her form began to undulate, dissolving into silver mist. Her long hair shortened, her features softened, and in less than a blink of an eye, Syr took the place of the goddess.
The simple waitress clothes, the side ponytail, and that warm smile that hid a storm behind it… Everything was back in place.
But his heart kept racing.
"Just a little more… Just a little more…"
Syr ran like the world depended on it. Because in her mind, it did.
The most beautiful soul I had ever beheld was fading away and that…
That was not acceptable.
He turned a corner, his heart beating with divine urgency, and there it was.
Bell, walking as if carrying the weight of the world. Head down. Alone.
Syr paused for a second, gulping air as if she hadn't done so in centuries.
It wasn't the first time I'd seen him like this. But this time... this time I felt it.
Something inside him had broken.
"I won't allow it…"
And with a sudden smile, radiant enough to pierce dark clouds, Syr took a few quick steps and—
"Bell!"
…
The doors of the Hostess of Fertility opened with their characteristic soft creak, and the aroma of roasting meat, spices, and freshly baked bread enveloped Bell as he crossed the threshold. For a moment, his expression softened.
"Welcome—"
Ryuu stopped mid-greet when he saw who was coming in.
"…Syr," she said, an eyebrow raised, noting not only the girl's presence, but also that she was wearing her work uniform… when clearly today was her day off.
Bell tilted his head slightly, shy as ever. "Hello, Ryuu-san…"
Ryuu, still confused, looked away at her partner.
Syr gave him a quick, subtle hand signal, a sort of small, below-the-waist gesture, accompanied by a slight smile.
Ryuu understood instantly.
There was no need to ask.
She had come for Bell.
And that was enough.
Without saying a word, Ryuu simply nodded with the same sobriety with which she treated problematic customers, and returned to her usual composure.
"There are free tables in the back. I'll bring the menu," she said calmly, turning to disappear among the tables.
Bell watched her go, slightly confused.
Syr looked at him with a more relaxed smile. "Come on, sit down. All you have to worry about today is eating well, okay?"
Bell hesitated for a moment… but nodded slowly, following Syr toward the back of the tavern. Though he didn't know it, he'd taken his first step toward not letting the darkness swallow him whole.
Bell sank back onto the wooden bench with a long, weary sigh. It wasn't just physical… the weight on his shoulders didn't come from the Dungeon or his injuries. It was deeper, heavier.
He leaned his elbows on the table and ran his hands over his face, as if he could brush his thoughts away like dust. But it didn't work.
Memories assaulted him like slow stabs.
Lili's muffled laughter in the cell.
The blatant lie in Naaza's eyes.
The dried blood on the ground where those adventurers fell.
And Hestia's voice, telling him it still wasn't enough. That he needed a "feat."
But how much more did he have to lose before he deserved to go up?
The wood of the table creaked as he clenched his fists.
It was then that the soft aroma of stew, freshly baked bread, and mild spices brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up just as Syr returned, balancing a tray with practiced ease.
"Ta-daa~! A house special, courtesy of the chef and me," she said with a smile that seemed genuine… but with a hint of concern hidden in her gray eyes.
She placed a steaming bowl of meat and vegetable stew in front of Bell, accompanied by a thick slice of crusty bread. She also placed a cup of lightly sweetened tea beside it, and sat opposite him, crossing her arms on the table.
"Come on, eat. I'm not moving until you finish everything," he said in a soft but firm voice, as if it were an order wrapped in sweetness.
Bell looked at her for a moment in silence.
"…Thanks, Syr," he finally murmured, before taking the spoon.
I wasn't hungry, but… I didn't want her to worry anymore.
And somehow, the warmth of the plate in front of him… brought a little warmth back to his chest as well.
Bell took the first sip of the stew. The taste was simple, homemade, unpretentious. Nothing extraordinary… but it felt real. As if someone had cooked with the intention of caring, not impressing. A dish that made you feel less alone.
Syr watched him from the other side, saying nothing, just with that gentle smile. As if she knew better than to rush her words.
Bell swallowed slowly, and for a moment, he simply ate. The outside world paused. There was no Soma Family, no lies, no deaths in the Dungeon. Just a table, a warm meal, and a person in front of him who made no demands. Who just…was there.
After a few minutes of silence, Syr broke the calm with a low voice.
"Are you feeling a little better?"
Bell didn't respond immediately. He finished chewing a piece of meat, put down his spoon, and stared at the surface of his tea as if hoping to find answers there.
"I don't know…" he murmured. "I feel like everything I thought about the world was… wrong. Like I'd been watching a prettier version of Orario… and suddenly someone ripped it out."
Syr settled back in a seat, resting one cheek on her hand, her eyes gently narrowed.
"And that's bad?"
Bell looked at her, confused.
Syr tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder.
"See the truth, I mean. Knowing that the world isn't perfect. That there are ugly things, people who hurt you, who use you, who don't care. But there are also others who try... who cook for you without asking. To those who care. Who still believe it's worth it."
Bell looked down, the words taking up space in his mind.
"…Sometimes I wish I were stronger," he murmured. "Not to level up, or become famous, or catch up to someone… just so I don't feel like everything's crushing me."
Syr smiled at him sweetly. There was no mockery in her eyes, only a strange compassion… and something else. Something impossible to define.
"So you're on the right track, Bell."
He looked at her, surprised.
"What?"
She shrugged with a simple smile, as if the answer was obvious.
"Because even if the world changes… you still care about things that matter."
And even though he didn't know it, at that moment, the number above Syr's head stabilized for a moment...
In 80.
And then it went up to 85, just as she served him tea again without him asking.
Bell's smile was weak, but genuine.
Bell blinked as he felt a small tremor in his chest, like a whisper only he could hear.
A new line of text flashed through his mind, as if it had been seared into his soul.
[Divine Blessing of Knowledge of the World's Desires]: New blessings are obtained without the need to update status.
Bell put the spoon halfway to his mouth. His expression changed slightly, though he tried to hide it.
"Another one...?" he thought.
It was strange. Normally, to obtain a new blessing, you had to return to the Goddess Hestia, and she would have to refresh your status using blood and the whole ritual process. But now… it wasn't necessary anymore.
The blessings simply appeared, as if the world itself were bestowing them directly upon them.
He put a hand to his chest, thoughtful.
"This is… too convenient. Why now?"
His eyes slid to Syr, who was still smiling as she ordered dishes at another nearby table, as if nothing had happened.
Bell looked down at his teacup, trying to regain his former calm… but now his mind was spinning faster than ever.
It was true that he felt a little better. More relieved. But at the same time, this... this wasn't normal.
And he knew it.
As if his desire to be a hero… was being heard by something other than a god.
Or, worse yet… by something bigger than them.
But even with that revelation, Bell just sighed… and kept eating. Because he'd learned, albeit the hard way, that not everything could be understood immediately.
And sometimes, the only thing you could do… was keep walking.
Even if the ground began to shake beneath his feet.
But the pain came suddenly, like an invisible spear piercing his skull.
Bell dropped the spoon, bringing both hands to his head with a stifled groan. The table vibrated as his forehead nearly hit the edge.
"Bell!" Syr cried, noticing him lean forward, barely holding himself up on the table. She rushed to his side, grabbed him by the shoulders, and tried to steady him. "Bell, look at me! What's wrong?"
But he couldn't answer.
Inside his mind, the words appeared in flames, etching themselves mercilessly:
[Divine Blessing of the Blue Skies]: You are stronger when you are under the blue sky.
[Divine Blessing of the Rainy Skies]: You are stronger when you are under the rainy skies.
[Divine Blessing of the Night Skies]: You are stronger when you are under the night sky.
[Divine Blessing of First Sight]: Allows you to dodge attacks you experience for the first time, including ambushes and surprise attacks.
[Divine Blessing of Advent]: Allows you to dodge attacks that you experience two or more times, including ambushes and surprise attacks.
[Divine Blessing of the Phoenix]: Allows you to immediately return to life only once if you die.
[Divine Blessing of Judgment]: Allows you to know the type of skills your opponent has.
"Bell! Breathe! What's wrong? Does anything hurt?" Syr knelt beside him, gently holding his head, her gray eyes filled with concern. "Did you eat something bad?"
Bell gasped. The world was spinning. He felt as if he were absorbing something enormous, as if his mind was opening to receive information he didn't even understand.
"Too much…" he murmured. "Too fast…"
It was as if all those blessings were accumulating at once, without rest, without pause, one after another. The pain wasn't physical. It was existential. His soul stretched to make room for that torrent of power. He felt like if he stood up right now… he could fly.
But instead, he just clung to Syr's voice. To her warm touch. To the feel of…humanity.
Little by little, the pain began to subside. Sweat soaked his forehead, his breathing remained labored… but he could now focus his gaze again.
"I'm… fine," he said hoarsely. "Just… a migraine."
Syr didn't seem to believe him, but nodded slowly. "I'll get you some water. Stay here, okay?"
Bell just nodded.
I didn't want to worry her anymore.
And I didn't want to tell him that... during those seconds, he could see the new blessing activating itself...
…and for a moment, she knew Syr had abnormal skills for a common waitress.
But he didn't give it a name.
He didn't put a face to it.
His mind, exhausted, simply couldn't connect the dots.
And that, perhaps, was what saved his heart.
As Syr walked away toward the kitchen, Bell leaned his elbows on the table, closing his eyes tightly as he still felt the echo of pain pulsing gently in his head.
The names of the new blessings spun like shooting stars in his mind, but little by little he began to see a pattern among them… a logic hidden amidst the chaos.
"Blue skies… rainy… night skies…"
He opened his eyes and looked out the window. The sky was still clear, illuminated by the afternoon sun.
Three of those abilities were tied to what was above. To the surface. As if the world itself responded to him.
"…I get stronger when I'm outside," he murmured. "As if the heavens were protecting me…"
It was strange. Not only because of how literal it sounded, but because until now, his growth had always been tied to the dungeon, not the open air.
But now… it seemed his strength flourished best outside the depths.
And then there were the other two…
[First Sight] and [Advent].
"…dodge surprise attacks. Even ones I don't know about. Does that mean I can't be ambushed… ever?"
It was crazy. The idea that his body could react on its own to something his mind hadn't even anticipated... as if the world was reflexively protecting him.
The first time by instinct.
The second… for learning.
"As if the world were teaching me…"
Sigh.
Everything sounded good. Too good.
Since when were there adventurers with so many skills?
Most of them barely developed one… maybe two.
He already had more than ten. And they kept increasing.
But… in exchange for what?
His gaze lowered, observing his trembling hands on the table.
The same hands that just a few days ago were those of a dreamy boy who only wanted to be a hero.
Now…
Now he didn't know if it was still him.
And yet, when he heard Syr's footsteps returning with a tray of food and a warm smile, Bell tried to smile too.
Even if it was just a little.
Bell didn't even hear Syr put the plate down in front of him. His mind had stopped on one thing:
[Divine Blessing of the Phoenix]: Allows you to immediately return to life only once if you die.
His breathing stopped.
The sounds of the bar faded away.
Syr's footsteps, the murmur of customers, the echo of dishes being washed... everything faded into the background.
An extra life.
Literally.
"...Is this a joke?" he thought, feeling his skin crawl.
Instinctively, she brought a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating fast, as if she was also trying to process it.
It wasn't a metaphor. It wasn't a poetic figure. It was a literal truth written on his soul.
He could die. And come back.
Only once.
An opportunity.
A golden trap.
His mind, already weary of so much information, struggled to bear the weight of that revelation. It wasn't just the power that overwhelmed him… it was what it meant.
What kind of world was allowing this?
How desperate was the world itself… that it wouldn't let it die?
And for a moment, he understood.
Sadness. Disillusionment. Fear.
All of that… was real. The world was cruel.
But that gift was not a whim.
It was a message.
"You have to keep going."
Even if it hurts. Even if you fall apart. Even if you feel like nothing's worth it...
"You have to keep going."
A shadow fell across the table. Syr was approaching with a tray and a smile.
Bell swallowed and looked up at her, as if nothing had happened… but inside, his heart burned with a mixture of fear, gratitude… and something else.
Responsibility.
Because now I knew.
The world not only loved him,
It needed him.