—
Hello, here with a new chapter, sorry for the delay :D
Thanks to Rayx2108 and Comteqfr for being the beta readers and quality assurance supervisors for the chapter.
I also want to thank a user who inspired me to start writing the chapter. I don't remember his name, but he commented on Wattpad and had a profile picture of Zoro. Thanks a lot, bro.
—
At the top of the Tower of Babel, everything seemed normal, although very quiet. Freya sat in her usual armchair, a glass of wine in her hand, staring at nothing in particular. She said nothing. She did nothing. She just stood there, motionless.
At first glance, you'd think she was relaxed. Her posture was perfect, her dress elegant, her hair intact. Not a single expression of discomfort on her face. Total serenity.
But Ottar, standing to the side, knew well that this was just a facade.
Freya hadn't tasted the wine. She'd been holding the glass for a long time without taking a sip. She only swirled it around occasionally, as if she'd forgotten it was there. And although she still maintained that calm air, Ottar could sense it: she was upset.
It wasn't easy to notice. She didn't frown or snort. The goddess Freya didn't make a fuss. But her silence carried another weight. The kind of silence Ottar already knew. The kind that came when something bothered her and she preferred not to talk about it yet.
Since they returned from Apollo's banquet, she hadn't said a single word. Not one. And that was saying something.
Ottar couldn't quite put his finger on what he felt. Annoyance, yes, that was clear. But there was something else, too. A discomfort he couldn't quite put his finger on.
So he just stood there, as firm as ever. No bother, no questions asked.
He knew that sooner or later, his goddess would do something about it. She wouldn't stay still for long.
Freya let out a slow sigh, almost as if she wanted to expel the air she'd been trapped in for hours. She leaned her weight back on the sofa, crossing one leg with automatic grace. The wine glass swayed in her hand, swirling the liquid around without her noticing. The dark red no longer tasted of anything.
"I know you want to say something, Ottar," she said suddenly, without looking at him. "You don't have to hold it back."
The tall warrior, who stood a few paces away, bowed his head slightly. His voice was deep and measured.
"My lady… what do you plan to do with the god Apollo?"
Freya didn't respond immediately. She continued to stare out the window, observing the distant city lights. Then she turned the glass over in her hand and said emotionlessly:
"Nothing."
Ottar blinked. For anyone else, it would have been a minor reaction. For him, it was almost an exclamation. He maintained his tone, but there was a slight tinge of surprise in his next question.
"And what about Bell Cranel?"
"... Nothing."
Freya finally stopped staring at the horizon and returned her gaze to her glass. She raised it and observed it as if searching for something in its reflection. She smiled, but it wasn't the sweet smile she sometimes showed in front of Bell. It was colder. Sharper.
"But don't mistake my inaction for indifference."
She paused, and her tone changed, lowering a little, losing that softness that used to surround her words.
"My Bell has to experience this kind of thing, I can't protect him forever. That's why I won't interfere."
Another sip. More out of routine than pleasure.
"But if they think I'm going to stay here if something happens to him..."
She put the glass on the table with a slight clack.
"…then they are playing with the wrong goddess."
Ottar said nothing. His breathing barely changed, but his eyes remained fixed on hers. Freya didn't need his approval, but she did want him to understand what she was saying. "Regardless of whether he wins or loses that stupid war game…"
She leaned back on the sofa again, leaning back as if he were talking about some everyday nonsense.
"…Apollo is going to die."
She didn't even say it in anger. She said it like someone saying it's going to rain tomorrow.
"Him. And his whole familia."
There was a brief silence. And then she added, just as calmly:
"No one is going to take the one I love away from me."
This time, she looked at him. Straight ahead. Without smiling. Just that look, filled with silent determination, which to anyone who didn't know her would be just another expression on her beautiful face.
But Ottar knew that meant doom.
And he lowered his head in silence.
He already had his answer. And he didn't need to know more.
…
The sun was barely peeking through the church windows, while the table trembled slightly every time Hestia dropped her spoon into the bowl with more force than necessary.
Bell watched her out of the corner of his eye as she ate in silence. He could feel the dark cloud over her head without needing to see it. Hestia didn't say anything, but the way she pursed her lips and snorted every so often spoke volumes.
"Thank you for the food, Hestia-sama…" he murmured with a forced smile, trying to break the tension.
She grunted, barely looking up.
"Don't thank me. I still feel like throwing this at Apollo's face…"
Bell laughed nervously. "I'd rather he threw it at me… than him throwing his whole familia after me."
Hestia looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"That's not funny, Bell! That idiot declared war on us in front of everyone, and you can still joke around!"
He looked down. Not out of shame, but out of concern.
"…I'm just trying not to worry you any more."
Hestia crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks slightly. She didn't say anything immediately. Then she sighed and slumped back in her chair, sounding tired.
"The War Game…" she murmured thoughtfully. "He could have chosen anything else… but Apollo just wants an excuse to crush you."
Bell looked up. His eyes, though tired, remained steady.
"Do you think there's any chance of winning?"
Hestia looked at him with sweetness mixed with bitterness.
"It depends on the type of game you're playing. Sometimes it's about taking a fortress. Other times, it's about protecting an objective. There are even one-on-one combats..."
Bell straightened up at that.
"One on one?"
"Yes. It's the only way we'd have a real chance. A duel between champions. If Apollo would agree to that…"
"…I could win."
Hestia nodded slowly, but her hope was short-lived. Her brow furrowed again.
"But he won't. Apollo is no fool. He won't throw away his advantage. He has hundreds of adventurers in his familia. He'll want an all-out war."
Bell remained silent. His spoon floated in the soup, forgotten.
"So… I'll have to face them all… alone?" The word "only" hung in the air.
Hestia shifted, resting her elbows on the table, facing him. "No. You won't be alone. Our familia may not have the numbers… but…"
She stopped, gritting her teeth.
"We have to find a way. Some way."
Bell lowered his head, his hands clenched. He thought. He looked for a gap, a possibility. If they couldn't avoid a massive confrontation, he had to at least find a way to reduce their numbers. Divide them. Create a strategy…
"What would my grandfather do in a situation like this…?" he thought quietly.
A treacherous thought came to his mind: "Run away, Bell! And take Freya with you, too. Even though she's crazy, she'll probably leave you dry in a few days!"
Bell shook his head to try to erase that thought.
Hestia raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
Bell blinked. "Ah, nothing. I was thinking about… tactics."
She looked at him for a few seconds, then snorted.
"I don't want you to think like a commander, Bell. I don't want you to put yourself in the role of sacrificing yourself to win. You're just a kid…"
Bell smiled. "I'm an adventurer. And Apollo declared war."
She frowned again, but didn't reply. She just mumbled under her breath as she brought a spoonful to her mouth.
"That idiot Apollo... he'll see what happens when a goddess gets really angry…"
But the pang was sudden.
Like an invisible needle piercing the back of his neck, the [Divine Blessing of Danger Sense] set off all the alarms inside Bell. He didn't have time to think. His body was already moving.
"Hestia-sama!" he shouted, turning to face her. The goddess barely managed to blink before Bell lifted her like a sack of potatoes, holding her in both arms.
"Huh? Bell, what are you doing?!" she squealed, kicking her legs in the air. But he had already run away.
With an explosive step and a gust of wind, Bell crossed the dining room in less than a second and launched himself straight toward the church's side window. The glass didn't stand a chance: it shattered into a thousand pieces as Bell's body shot through the frame, carrying Hestia against his chest. He landed rolling on the stone street, still clinging to her.
It was at that moment that the church exploded.
A deafening roar pierced the air. Several magical projectiles impacted the ceiling and walls at the same time, triggering a series of explosions that reduced the entire structure to burning rubble. Dust, fire, and charred wood were flung into the air.
"NOOOO!!!" Hestia screamed from the ground, her eyes widening at the smoldering remains. "MY HOUSE! I JUST RENOVATED IT!" Her fists clenched in childish fury as tears escaped her eyes.
Bell, still kneeling beside her, was breathing with forced calm. He had frowned, and his gaze hardened in a way that rarely happened.
"I didn't need to look too far."
He looked up, and there they were. Figures on the rooftops of the neighboring houses, positioned at high points, clearly prepared for another attack. Some held magic staffs, others had daggers and swords at their waists. And all of them, absolutely all of them, wore that black uniform with gold details.
Bell gritted his teeth.
"Of course… it had to be them."
The Apollo familia. That stupid uniform had already caused him more trouble than he could count. Anywhere they appeared, it was a sure sign something was going to go wrong.
Hestia stood up staggering a little, still shaking dust from her hair.
"This is completely against the rules! We haven't even formally agreed to the war game! THIS IS AN OPEN ATTACK IN A CIVILIAN ZONE!" she shrieked, red-faced with indignation.
Bell didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on the enemies, scanning. There were at least twenty visible. Probably more, hidden in the shadows or preparing another flank. Some were already descending and approaching.
"Bell…" Hestia murmured, worried now that her adrenaline was starting to wear off. "What are we going to do?"
"I'll get you out of here first," he said firmly, picking her up again.
"Not again! I'm not a sack of potatoes!" she protested, kicking and stomping.
Bell spun around and ran. His steps were so quick he barely touched the ground. He darted through alleyways, zigzagging through the city to throw off his pursuers. The warning cries of the Apollo familia members echoed in the distance.
As he ran, Bell only thought of one thing : If they're already willing to attack us outside of formal combat… then there won't be any kind of fair play. If I want to win this, I need more than strength. I need strategy. I need allies. And I need a plan now.
But first… he had to make sure Hestia was safe.
The crunch of another magic projectile forming in the distance triggered Bell's reflexes. Without a second thought, he planted his foot on the ground and stamped down twice, concentrating his energy. In that instant, the ground beneath them began to tremble slightly, the pavement splitting like loose sand, revealing a narrow tunnel.
"Trust me, Hestia-sama!" Bell shouted, and before she could retort, he threw her inside with chilling ease.
"Kyaaaaaa!!! Bell, you damn kid!!" the goddess screamed as she disappeared down the tunnel, kicking and flailing.
Bell immediately launched himself afterward, closing the path behind him with a gesture, causing the ground to fold back on itself as if it had never been disturbed.
The journey wasn't long. Just a few seconds of curves, jolts, and acceleration before seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Hestia shot forward like a projectile wrapped in shrieks, and without being able to avoid it, she landed directly on someone.
"Ugh!" a male voice exclaimed.
They both fell to the floor amid a pile of papers and scattered maps. The room was spacious, with a central meeting table surrounded by comfortable armchairs and several shelves filled with bottles… and there, beneath Hestia, was the god Hermes himself, a smile somewhere between amused and pained on his face.
"Well, I must admit I wasn't expecting such an… enthusiastic visit. Although I'm not complaining about the landing…" he murmured in his typical honeyed voice.
Hestia blushed with fury, slapping him without hesitation —bang!—and quickly stood up while clenching his fists.
"Perverted idiot! We're under attack! Apollo has destroyed our home!"
Hermes rubbed his cheek with a calm smile, as if that was part of the conversation.
"Really? That's awful, losing that church of yours."
At that moment, Bell emerged from the same tunnel with a flip, landing on his feet as if nothing had happened. He brushed the dust off his shoulders and looked at Hermes with a serious expression.
The few adventurers in the room—two boys and a girl, all members of the Hermes familia—tensed in surprise. Hermes raised a hand in a sign of calm.
"Calm down, calm down. It's just Bell-kun."
One of his adventurers, clearly confused, opened his mouth to protest, but Hermes cut him off without even looking at him.
"Out of the room. Everyone. Now." "What? But Mr. Hermes—!"
"Out," he repeated in a lower tone, but with such authority that no one else dared say a word. They left the room, closing the door behind them, leaving Bell, Hestia, and Hermes alone.
The messenger god leaned back relaxedly in one of the armchairs, as if they were not in the middle of a critical situation.
"I'm sorry to say it, Hestia-chan… but I can't officially protect you. If I bring my familia into this, Apollo might use it as an excuse to escalate things further, and you know how he is. He'd turn this into a familia war."
Hestia gritted her teeth. "But he's attacking my people! He's done it before!"
"And you stopped him with help," Hermes replied, tilting his head. "I'm sure you'll manage this time, too. Although…" he looked at Bell with a barely concealed spark of excitement in his eyes, "I'm dying to see how you do it."
Bell, without losing his seriousness, didn't respond. He simply stood at attention.
Hermes sighed theatrically. "You can stay here, in this room, at least until you have a plan. No one will bother you… except maybe Asfi if she finds out, but I can take care of that."
Hestia crossed her arms, frustrated, but accepted. "Okay… Thanks. I guess." Hermes smiled widely, walking towards the door.
"I'll be close by. And if you need 'information'… well, you know I've got a knack for that. But officially, I didn't see anything. And I didn't see anyone. Understand?"
Bell nodded.
As the door closed behind the god, the room fell silent for a moment.
Hestia looked at Bell with a mixture of resignation and gratitude. "Well… at least we're not dead."
Bell clenched his fists. "No. But I'm not going to stand idly by."
But almost immediately Bell froze. The tension on his face was evident, not because of the situation with Hermes… but because a thought shot through him like an arrow. His lips moved slightly, as if he were reluctant to say it, but he finally blurted it out.
"A-Artemis… is still in the church."
The silence that followed was brief, broken only by the soft creaking of the chair Hermes settled into, more to listen than for comfort. Hestia looked at him, at first uncomprehending, until her expression changed to a look of resignation and annoyance.
"Don't tell me…"
Bell nodded regretfully. The image of the spear engulfed in flames, surrounded by debris, formed clearly in his mind. It was obvious: she couldn't move on her own, not trapped in that divine construct.
Hestia placed a hand on her forehead and sighed deeply. "Well… it can't be that bad. It's a divine artifact, Bell. There's NO WAY it could have been destroyed by an explosion like that. It could survive even if we threw it to the bottom of a volcano."
The goddess said it with certainty, but then frowned. "Although… that doesn't mean she'll be happy we left her there. I daresay she's the opposite."
Bell clenched his fists nervously and approached the window of the meeting room. The warmth outside was still felt despite the distance, as if the destruction of the church still reverberated through the city. He looked in the direction where his home had once stood and asked in a low voice:
"Should I… 'call' her?"
Hestia glanced at him, instantly understanding. "You mean that blessing of yours that allows you to instantly recover your weapons?"
Bell nodded. "I could bring it here right now. It would fly right into my hand."
Hestia crossed her arms, shaking her head firmly. "No way. That would give away our location immediately. Believe me, there's nothing more striking than a spear flying full speed out of a burning house. It would practically be a firework announcing where we're hiding."
Bell looked away from the window, biting his lip. Artemis was safe… probably. But he knew that when he saw her again, the conversation wasn't exactly going to be pleasant.
Hestia sighs, seeming to consider an idea until she finally dares to say it.
"Well... now that we have some time, let's update your status because I don't think we'll have another quiet moment to do it later."
Bell was silent for a moment, processing what Hestia had just said. It was true… ever since Freya handed him the grimoire and he used it, he hadn't had a single second of calm to review what he had gained. Between the disaster with Apollo, the declaration of the War Game, and the attack on the church, his life had been like running downhill without brakes.
"I guess it's not a bad time to see it…" he murmured, taking off his white jacket and folding it carefully before setting it aside. He turned, allowing Hestia to approach with that familiar expression of concentration she always wore when updating his status.
The goddess used a quill pen lying on one of the tables, pricked her finger with the pointed end, and let a drop of blood fall onto Bell's back. A soft blue glow spread as the Falna characters were rewritten. Bell felt the characteristic tingling, accompanied by Hestia's silence, which lasted a few seconds longer than usual.
Bell Cranel
Level 3 (+)
Strength: B706
Endurance: B781
Dexterity: B799
Agility: A859
Magic: C603
Magic:
Explosion: Chantless magic. Generates an explosion with the user at its center.
Divine Protector: Generates a magic construct based on a deity. You must have the permission/favor of said god/goddess. The construct varies depending on the god named.
"[God], dispel all my doubts."
"I beseech your help to protect the innocent and repel all evil"
"By your grace, offset the scales and bring us victory"
"For the flame of our friendship burns without end."
"Grant me a boon weaved from our bonds."
"Divine Protector!"
Skills:
[Loved by the world]: The world loves you. Generate blessings based on needs.
…
…
…
Development skills:
Spirit healing H
Strong Body I
Finally, she spoke.
"Well, let's see… Strength B706… Stamina B781… Dexterity B799… Agility A859…
Magic C603…" she listed calmly. "And there's the new magic… oh, oh…"
Bell tilted his head, curious. "How 'oh, oh' are we talking?"
Hestia smiled broadly and read aloud. "Divine Protector: Generates a magical construct based on a deity. Requires the permission or favor of said god or goddess. The construct varies depending on the god named. And look… it has a whole chant! Quite poetic, indeed."
"So… I can summon a giant shield or something?"
"I suppose so. But not just any shield… it says it's a magical construct, so I assume it's not limited to just a flat shield; it'll also be something directly related to the deity you summon. Imagine: if you say my name, a barrier of blue fire might appear, I don't know… or maybe something more symbolic."
Bell nodded, mentally picturing a massive wall shaped like Hestia's silhouette. "Sounds... very useful."
Hestia, for her part, was visibly excited, almost jumping up and down. "Bell, this is incredible! This isn't ordinary magic; it's a versatile ability that relies on your bonds. It suits you perfectly! If you use my name, I'll always be protecting you, even in combat."
Bell smiled a little, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, now I have even more reasons not to let anyone down…"
"Exactly!" Hestia slapped him on the back, forgetting for a second that he was still shirtless. "Oh, sorry… but I can't help it, this is just too good!"
Bell put his jacket back on, still pondering the possibilities. Meanwhile, Hestia kept looking at him with a mixture of pride and excitement, as if she'd just won a trophy she'd trained for herself.
He didn't say it, but he knew that magic could be decisive in what was to come. And, judging by the gleam in Hestia's eyes, she knew it too.
Bell watched out the window, seeing the figures in the black uniforms of the Apollo familia moving across the rooftops like a plague. His brow was still furrowed, but now there was a different glow.
in his eyes, something between determination and a suppressed fire. He turned to Hestia, still feeling the warmth of the new spell.
"With what I have now… I think I can fight them," he said firmly, more to himself than to her.
Hestia, who was still holding the newly updated blade, looked up sharply. "Bell… don't get too confident. This isn't like facing a few bandits or a strong monster. They'll go all out, and they won't hesitate…"
"I know," he interrupted gently, but with confidence in his voice. He took a step forward and, with a calmness that contrasted with the chaos outside, added, "I don't want to sound arrogant, but I truly believe it. I have my blessings… and this new spell. I can do it."
Hestia pressed her lips together, uncomfortable. Bell's expression wasn't that of a boy going on a wild goose chase; there was conviction, yes, but also absolute faith in his abilities and what he could accomplish. That, paradoxically, worried her more.
"I don't want you to get hurt…" she said, and this time her voice came out lower, laden with a sincere concern that she couldn't disguise.
Bell took a step closer and, without taking his eyes off her, replied, "Then trust me."
Hestia blinked, surprised by the confident tone. It wasn't a plea, it was a declaration. A reminder that he was no longer the timid adventurer who had entered her familia.
There was a brief silence, broken only by the echoes of screams and the crackling of burning wood in the distance. Hestia sighed, looked down for a moment, and with a small, resigned smile, nodded.
"I trust you…" she finally said, and in those three words there was a great weight of love, fear and hope mixed together.
…
In the spacious throne room of the Apollo familia mansion, the silence was so thick it could almost be cut. The god Apollo, reclining on his throne, drummed his fingers against the armrest in an irregular, nervous rhythm. His lips, normally curved in a self-delighted smile, were pressed into a line of irritation.
In front of him, several members of his familia stood tensely, their gaze fixed on the floor. The scent of incense permeating the room failed to hide the air thick with discomfort. Outside, the bustle of the mansion could be heard in the distance, but inside, every breath sounded too loud.
Apollo had just received the report: they'd destroyed the church where Bell Cranel and Hestia had been hiding… but somehow, they'd lost him. Not a trace.
"Are you telling me that… you saw him turn a corner and disappear?" Apollo asked, his tone gentle, but dangerously restrained. He hadn't expected an answer; in fact, the silence that followed had
confirmed that no one had a convincing explanation. He closed his eyes for a second, resting his head on his hand, and muttered something under his breath that no one dared to interpret.
Hyakinthos, standing to the side, stepped forward. The captain of the Apollo familia's face was serious, and although his voice was thick with displeasure, he was careful with each word, keeping his tone low and controlled. The last thing he wanted was for Apollo to see him shout as if he were losing his composure.
"This is unacceptable," he began, without raising his voice. He walked slowly in front of the members present, his gaze cold as a blade. "Lord Apollo doesn't tolerate incompetence… and neither do I. It's not enough to destroy a hideout if you let your target escape. I don't want excuses, I want results."
He stopped right in front of one of the adventurers, who gulped and visibly tensed. Hyakinthos continued, his tone low but with a sharp edge: "Don't disappoint Lord Apollo again. Next time, there will be no room for error."
Silence fell again. Some even avoided moving, as if any sound might further enrage the god on the throne.
A sharp knock on the front door interrupted the scene. The sound echoed loudly in the living room, shattering the tension like glass.
Hyakinthos frowned. Without turning his head, he spoke coldly into the air:
"I made it clear that I didn't want any more interruptions, unless it was news of Bell Cranel's capture."
From the other side, an unknown and cheerful voice replied: "Hi, here is the order you placed."
Apollo tilted his head, clearly confused, and looked at his captain. Hyakinthos looked back, equally perplexed. Neither of them had asked for anything.
Before they could react, the front door was ripped off its hinges with a deafening crash. Splinters and shards of wood flew through the air, crashing onto the marble floor. The members of the Apollo familia instinctively took a step back, reaching for their weapons.
The figure who had broken down the door was surrounded by a firm and determined presence: Bell Cranel. His white jacket billowed in the air, and his red eyes remained fixed on the throne at the far end of the room.
But he wasn't the one who spoke first.
A small figure stepped forward, passing Bell without losing her poise. Hestia, her white dress immaculate and her blue ribbon fluttering slightly, held Apollo's gaze.
Her footsteps echoed against the marble, one after the other, without hesitation. She stopped at a prudent distance, her voice clear and firm, cutting through the silence:
"Apollo. I've come to bargain."
The echo of those words spread throughout the hall. Some familia members exchanged nervous glances; Hyakinthos tensed like a rope ready to snap; and Apollo, hearing Hestia's tone, narrowed his eyes… and smiled, though there was a dangerous undertone to that smile.
…
Among the charred remains of what had once been the church, Artemis's spear remained buried in the ground, barely covered by pieces of wood and scorched stone. It couldn't move on its own, so all she could do was wait.
The initial worry had long since dissipated. The bond with her Orion was still there, strong and clear, so there was no doubt: Bell was alive. And if Bell was alive, then sooner or later he would come looking for her.
"Yep… they'll probably come any moment," she muttered to herself, trying to sound calm.
A few minutes passed. The smoke slowly dissipated, the silence of the street barely broken by the crackling of the embers.
"…at any moment…" she repeated, this time a little more downhearted.
A piece of wall collapsed nearby, causing dust to cover the spear even more. Artemis sighed —or at least, as close as a voice trapped in a weapon could come—and decided to keep waiting. After all, her Orion always came… he just took his time sometimes.