Bloom Moon 5
Each morning before descending to the tenth floor, Felis and Narissa passed through the upper levels of the Dungeon. On the second floor, a white-haired boy often caught their attention—red eyes brimming with frustration, determination, and the raw hunger to grow stronger.
Narissa never spoke to him. She simply observed, quietly watching as he struggled alone against the Dungeon's threats.
Bell Cranell swung his dagger like someone chasing shadows. His grip was off. His footwork sloppy. He charged headfirst into fights with little more than speed and heart. A goblin ducked his first swing. Bell stumbled, barely dodged a claw swipe, and retaliated with a wild overhead slash. The monster burst into ash—but the victory left him panting, dagger shaking in his hands.
'Too much wasted movement,' Narissa thought, watching from behind a nearby column as Felis stood beside her, arms folded.
"He's green," Felis murmured, voice unreadable. "Still thinks strength is enough."
Narissa glanced his way, catching the way his golden eyes lingered a second longer before turning.
"Come on," he said quietly, starting for the stairs. "We've got our own work to do."
She gave the boy one last look—sweat-soaked, breathing hard, yet still gripping his sword—and followed.
---
Narissa's own battles were far from easy. She gritted her teeth as an orc's club slammed into her shield. The impact rattled through her bones, her stance holding—but only barely. She tried to counter with Blade Form, but the delay gave the beast time to recover.
Felis watched in silence until the fight ended. "You're focusing too much on blocking," he said, calm and direct. "Defense is good, but if it stops you from attacking, you're not winning. Just lasting longer."
Then came the Infant Dragons. Their heat shimmered in the air. Narissa instinctively raised her shield to block a dive. It held—but every cast drained her Mind. When she switched to Blade Form, her aim scattered, thrown off by their sudden, erratic glides.
By the time the final one collapsed into ash, she slumped onto a stone ledge, drenched in sweat.
"I thought magic was supposed to make this easier," she muttered.
Felis knelt beside her, offering a waterskin. "It does," he said. "Once you learn how to use it right." His golden eyes met hers. "You don't need to block everything. Read the fight. Move when you can, defend when you must, and strike when it counts."
She drank slowly, then gave a short nod. The lessons were getting through, even if her body hadn't caught up yet.
---
The next morning, Bell was there again.
Still white-haired, still burning with that desperate fire—but he hadn't changed. Not yet. His swings were faster, more aggressive, but just as reckless. Goblins fell under the onslaught, yet every fight left him more drained than the last.
Felis watched longer than usual.
After Bell's third clumsy exchange, Felis called out.
"Stop relying so much on brute force."
Bell froze mid-step, caught between a swing and a breath. His eyes turned—wide, uncertain—toward the voice.
Felis didn't move closer. He just stood there, arms folded, tail flicking once. "Control the flow of the fight. Don't just charge in. Use your head."
Bell looked like he wanted to respond, but Felis had already turned away.
Narissa followed—but not before casting one last look back, eyes lingering on the boy and the quiet, shifting weight in his stance.
The boy still stood alone.
But his expression had changed.
---
Narissa adjusted her grip as another orc approached, club raised.
This time, she didn't brace with Shield Form. She didn't freeze.
When it swung, she moved—sidestepping at just the right moment. The orc overextended. Her Blade Form activated in a heartbeat, cutting across its exposed joint. The beast roared once before collapsing.
From the side, Felis nodded. "Better," he said. "You're starting to think."
Narissa exhaled, brushing hair from her cheek. "Feels more like I'm just not panicking."
A faint smirk played across his lips. "That's half the battle."
She allowed herself a quiet smile. The floor hadn't gotten easier. But she was starting to meet it on her terms.
---
Bloom Moon 7
Bell was there again—but this time, he didn't rush in.
He waited.
Watched.
When a goblin lunged, he didn't flinch. He sidestepped cleanly and struck with one smooth motion. The creature vanished in a burst of ash before it hit the ground.
Later, when a kobold charged, Bell lowered his stance—baiting. The beast fell for it, lunging at the apparent opening. Bell parried, twisted, and used its momentum against it. His dagger moved like water—one arc, one clean kill.
From behind a column, Narissa watched, eyes narrowed.
His footwork was still clumsy. His grip still unsure.
But he wasn't panicking anymore.
He was learning.
Felis didn't speak. He simply watched, silent and unreadable, before turning toward the stairs.
The boy wasn't strong.
Not yet.
But he was improving.
---
So was Narissa.
Her rhythm had changed—no longer stiff or reactionary. She baited attacks now. She sidestepped with purpose. Each Blade Form spell was clean, measured. Her movements flowed.
Even when surrounded, she didn't freeze. She repositioned. Adapted.
Against the Infant Dragons, she stopped hiding behind her shield. She moved with them, not against. She dodged, countered, and struck at just the right moment. When their wings flared, she was already firing—dropping them from the air before they could breathe fire.
At the edge of the corridor, Felis watched in silence.
When the last one fell, and Narissa stepped back—sweating, breath steady—he finally spoke.
"You're improving."
His tone was calm, but there was something beneath it. Subtle approval. Quiet pride.
"Your attacks have purpose now. You're not just enduring the fight—you're controlling it."
Narissa nodded, catching her breath. "Still have a long way to go."
"Yeah," he said. "But you're heading the right way." His gaze flicked to her waist. "Don't forget the dagger. Magic's strong—but when your Mana runs dry, you'll need a fallback."
She glanced at the small blade. "I'll keep that in mind."
Their work done for the day, they made their way back toward Hearth Manor.
Narissa's muscles ached. Her limbs were heavy. But it was a satisfying kind of exhaustion.
She wasn't just surviving the Dungeon anymore.
She was learning to win.
Felis walked beside her, tail swaying with a slow, steady rhythm.
She was getting stronger.
And he knew—
She hadn't even begun to reach her limit.
---
The last rays of twilight bathed the marble steps in a warm orange glow, casting long shadows across the plaza outside the Dungeon. Bell stood near the edge, his white hair rustling faintly in the wind, the worn dagger Felis had given him still sheathed at his side.
His hands fidgeted slightly behind his back as he spotted two familiar figures approaching—their silhouettes unmistakable against the fading light.
Felis and Narissa.
He stepped forward, hesitating only a heartbeat before calling out.
"Um—Felis-san!"
Golden eyes flicked toward him as Felis slowed, ears twitching once. Narissa raised a brow but said nothing, settling back with arms loosely crossed.
Bell's grip tightened slightly. "I… I wanted to ask. About today. How did I do?"
Felis studied him in silence. There was no dramatic pause, no theatrics—just that sharp, unwavering gaze cutting through the air like a drawn blade.
"You've stopped panicking when things don't go your way," he said bluntly. "You're adapting. Reading your enemy. Still sloppy—but better than before."
Bell blinked, lips parting slightly. Then, a quiet smile broke through, soft and genuine. "Thank you…"
Felis tilted his head. "You really want to know how you're doing?"
Bell nodded, posture straightening.
"Then listen close," Felis said. "You're not strong yet. Not even close. But…"
He stepped forward, golden eyes narrowing slightly.
"You've got the look of someone who's trying—really trying. That means more than stats or skills."
Felis met Bell's eyes, his expression unreadable for a moment—then gave a slow nod.
"You remember what I said, back when I threw you that dagger?"
Bell's hand instinctively touched the weapon at his side, its leather grip familiar by now. He nodded.
Felis took a step closer. "You've grown. Enough that I won't pretend otherwise."
Bell blinked, stunned. "Wait… you're serious?"
Felis gave a quiet nod, his arms crossed. "I keep my word."
For a moment, Bell said nothing. His gaze dropped to the dagger at his hip—that dagger—and then back up to Felis. His voice was lower when he finally spoke, steady.
"…Yeah. I still want to. If you'll have me."
Felis raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"I wouldn't say it if I wasn't," Bell said, standing a little straighter. "I've seen enough to know what kind of person you are. What kind of Familia you're building. I want to be part of that."
A short silence passed.
"…Alright," Felis said, turning toward the city. "Then tomorrow, we visit my goddess. Don't be late."
Bell smiled, something quiet and proud in it. "I won't."
---
Bloom Moon 8
Bell clutched the small parchment in his hands, checking the directions for the third time as he made his way through Orario's winding streets. The note Felis had given him yesterday was simple—a hand-drawn map with clear landmarks and a few terse instructions.
'North district. Follow the cobblestone path past the old fountain. Look for tall stone walls with a wooden gate. Be there by midday.'
The morning air carried a hint of spring's warmth as Bell turned the final corner, his pace quickening despite himself. Then he saw it—a high stone wall stretching across the entire block, three meters tall at least, with a single wooden gate centered in its length.
Bell swallowed hard, smoothing down his shirt and checking that his dagger was properly secured at his hip. This was it. His new beginning. His hands trembled slightly as he approached the gate.
Before he could knock, the heavy wooden door swung inward.
Felis stood in the entrance, golden eyes sharp and assessing. His black tail swayed once behind him, a subtle movement that betrayed nothing of his thoughts.
"You're early," he said, voice even. Not quite approval, but not disapproval either. Just an observation.
"I didn't want to be late," Bell replied, straightening his posture.
Felis studied him for a moment longer, then stepped aside. "Come in."
Bell passed through the threshold, and his eyes widened despite his attempts to maintain composure. The manor before him was nothing like he had imagined. Where he had expected something utilitarian—practical and plain—stood a true estate.
Heart Manor rose from the ground in elegant lines of warm stone and timber. Large windows caught the midday sun, making the façade gleam. The main building was substantial, far larger than any adventurer's residence Bell had ever seen, with a courtyard garden still taking shape at its front.
'This is... a familia headquarters?' Bell thought, unable to keep the awe from his expression. He had heard stories of the grand manors maintained by Loki, Freya, and other major familias, but seeing one up close—one that might soon be his home—left him momentarily speechless.
"It's not what you expected," Felis observed, closing the gate behind them.
Bell shook his head. "No, I—" He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I didn't expect something this..."
"Nice?" A faint smirk touched Felis's lips. "Our goddess enjoys comfort. I see no reason to deny her that." His ears twitched once as he gestured toward the main entrance. "This way."
Bell followed, his gaze still sweeping across the grounds. The manor's shadow fell across him as they approached the main doors. Inside, the foyer opened into a warm, spacious interior—polished wood floors, tasteful furnishings, and the distinct feeling of a place well-cared for.
"The living quarters are upstairs," Felis explained, leading Bell through a wide hallway. "Six rooms, each with its own bathroom. The office is that way—" he gestured to a closed door on their right, "—where we handle Familia business."
Bell nodded, trying to commit every detail to memory. The inside was just as impressive as the exterior—comfortable without being ostentatious, practical yet beautiful.
"And through here," Felis continued, pausing before an open doorway, "is the dining room."
Bell stepped inside after Felis, and his gaze immediately found the two figures seated on a plush sofa by the far wall.
Goddess Hestia sat with perfect posture, her blue-and-white dress immaculate, dark hair cascading down her back in twin tails. Despite her small stature, there was an undeniable presence about her—the quiet dignity of divinity.
Beside her sat a young woman—Narissa. Bell had seen her a few times before but never had the chance to speak with her.
Neither showed any surprise at his arrival.
"Goddess, Narissa," Felis said, his tone slightly gentler than before. "This is Bell Cranell. The one I told you about."
Hestia's blue eyes lit up, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Welcome, Bell! I've heard so much about you from Felis." She stood, smoothing her dress. "He said you've been improving quickly."
Bell bowed slightly, nervous energy coursing through him. "Thank you for having me, Goddess Hestia."
The half-elf—Narissa—remained seated, studying him with careful eyes. She nodded once in greeting but said nothing.
Bell felt the weight of the moment pressing on him. This wasn't just a visit. This was the beginning of something new—a path he had chosen for himself. His chest tightened with a strange mix of anxiety and hope.
Felis moved to stand beside the sofa, his golden eyes unreadable. "Bell wants to join our Familia," he stated simply. "I've watched him for almost a week now. He's inexperienced but learns quickly. Has potential."
Bell straightened his shoulders at the assessment, feeling both proud and humbled. Coming from Felis, even such measured words felt like high praise.
Hestia clasped her hands together, beaming. "That's wonderful! Our familia could certainly use more members." She looked at Bell directly. "But I want to hear it from you, Bell Cranell. Why do you want to join the Hestia Familia?"
Three pairs of eyes turned to him—Hestia's bright and welcoming, Narissa's cautious and assessing, Felis's golden gaze sharp and unblinking.
Bell took a steadying breath.
"I… I want to become a hero."
His words hung in the air, unashamed and pure.
"I know that probably sounds childish," he added quickly, flushing. "But it's the truth. Ever since I was little, I dreamed of being someone who saves others… someone who inspires people. Like the heroes in the old stories."
His hands clenched at his sides.
"I came to Orario to chase that dream. But the Dungeon—it's not like the stories. It's terrifying. I've been scared more times than I can count. And I've made mistakes—stupid ones."
He swallowed, his gaze flickering briefly to Felis, then back to Hestia.
"But I still want it. Even if it's hard, even if it takes everything I have… I want to become someone worthy of being called a hero. And I think—"
He hesitated, then pressed on.
"I think I can grow stronger here. With you."
Felis didn't speak right away.
His golden eyes remained steady on Bell, unblinking, unreadable. But his tail gave him away—the faint, irritated flick at its tip.
He had heard this before. Dozens of times. Starry-eyed rookies dreaming of glory, of saving people, of becoming heroes. And then reality came crashing down—bloody and brutal and unrelenting. Bell's sincerity wasn't the problem. It was the lack of grounding behind it. The dungeon didn't reward noble words. It demanded proof.
"Is that so," Felis said at last, his voice even but cool. "Then I hope you understand what that means."
There was no warmth in the words—no encouragement. Just quiet steel. A warning, perhaps. Or a challenge.
On the sofa, Narissa studied Bell with quiet scrutiny. Her expression didn't change, but her fingers curled slightly where they rested on her lap.
'A hero, huh?' she thought.
It was… sweet, in a way. Admirable, even. To want to protect people. To save them. But it sounded too rehearsed. Too… shallow. Not in intent—but in weight. She couldn't help but wonder—had he ever needed to make a choice between running and dying for someone else? Between saving a comrade and saving himself?
Because for her, protecting Familia wasn't a dream. It was instinct. Reality. Duty.
She offered no comment, no judgment. Only a single nod. Neutral. Reserved.
Hestia didn't respond immediately. Her blue eyes were no longer on Bell, but instead quietly drifted to the figure standing beside her.
Felis hadn't moved, but she noticed the subtle signs—his tail's low, irritated flick, the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze sharpened just slightly. He wasn't impressed. Hestia knew him well enough to see it clearly: Bell's words hadn't landed the way that felis hoped.
But he hadn't interrupted. Hadn't scoffed or shut him down. That, too, spoke volumes.
'You're still willing to give him a chance,' Hestia thought, lips curling faintly. 'Even if you're annoyed… you wouldn't have brought him here if you weren't.'
Last night, it was Felis who'd approached her—quiet, serious, and deliberate. He rarely gave recommendations. And rarer still did he ask for her opinion before acting. But with Bell, he had.
And that meant something.
Hestia turned back to Bell, her expression soft but no longer just cheerful. There was something steadier in her gaze now—something that reached deeper than simple approval.
"That's a beautiful dream, Bell," she said gently. "To want to protect others… to grow stronger so no one else has to suffer. It's a good heart to have."
She stepped forward, the hem of her dress whispering against the polished floor as she closed the distance between them. Her hands clasped in front of her, not regal but sincere.
"But dreams like that come with weight," she added, voice lowering just a touch. "Not just the strength to fight monsters, but the strength to carry pain, to fail and keep moving forward. Protecting others sounds noble, but it can also mean watching people you care about bleed… and sometimes not being able to stop it."
Bell's posture stiffened slightly, his throat tightening.
Hestia smiled again, gentler this time. "But that's okay. You're not there yet—but you want to be. And that's why I believe in you."
She extended a hand toward him. "If you're ready to take that first step—not just with ideals, but with your whole self—then I'll welcome you into our home."
---
The room was quiet, Bell sat cross-legged on the floor, shirt removed, facing away. He kept still, nerves simmering just beneath his skin—not out of discomfort, but anticipation. This was it. His Falna.
Hestia's eyes followed the glowing script that bloomed faintly across Bell's back. Her expression shifted as she worked—expectation first, then curiosity, and finally, something almost like surprise. Her fingers slowed just slightly.
No skill. No magic. His stats were clean. Blank.
Just the basics.
It wasn't unusual for a new adventurer, but…
She had hoped—no, expected—something else. Something more. After all, it was Felis who had brought Bell to her, vouched for him with a rare seriousness. And Felis rarely spoke with certainty unless he meant it.
Libertas Aeternum had dazzled her when she first saw it. Fulgor Familiae, Narissa's bond-born skill, had touched her heart.
But here was Bell—ordinary. Unadorned.
Her hand paused, hovering. Then she let out a small breath and smiled softly to herself.
'Even if there's nothing yet… it just means it's waiting to be written. That's fine too.'
She passed the parchment to Bell and he took the parchment reverently, and his eyes scanned the status like it was a sacred text. No skill. No magic. But he wasn't disheartened.
Instead, he smiled—genuinely, almost proudly. "Thank you, Goddess. This… this means the world to me."
He showed it to her without hesitation.
"I'll work hard," he promised. "I want to earn everything I can with my own strength."
Narissa, standing nearby, offered a nod and a quiet, "Welcome," nothing more. She'd seen many adventurers begin this way. This was normal. And Bell, for now, was just another beginning.
Felis stepped forward, arms loosely crossed, eyes unreadable. Then he gave a short nod. "Welcome to the Familia, Bell."
Bell beamed, standing straighter at the acknowledgment.
Felis continued, voice cool but clear, "Starting tomorrow, you'll train with me each morning before entering the dungeon. Don't be late. If you're aiming for your dream, you'll need more than hope."
Bell's grin only grew. "Yes, sir!"