Ryuu had broken the boy's weapon. That sky green dagger had shattered into countless pieces, beyond any chance of repair. Even though the boy had tossed it to her, she was the one at fault, yet she hadn't apologized; embarrassment took over and she ran off.
The crisp sound of ore cracking kept replaying in her mind.
Ryuu could tell that dagger was a luxury for a novice adventurer. Made from Upper Floor ore, it was good enough to handle monsters up to the eighteenth floor. Someone had clearly gifted it to the boy.
But that didn't change anything. She had destroyed it with her own hands. That was irrefutable.
Suppressing her frustration, Ryuu looked around.
She was standing inside the shop of the world-famous blacksmiths, Hephaestus Familia. Behind the glass of the display window, weapons gleamed temptingly. Double-edged swords, rapiers, scimitars... Everything placed in the prime spots was top-quality.
One pure-white dagger drew Ryuu's attention. Its sharp blade shone under the Magic Stone lamps, and even its decorative box was set with several gems.
Ryuu walked closer and checked the price tag.
"..."
Her brows lifted. She froze. The price was absurd. The long string of zeros was far beyond anything she could afford.
She couldn't possibly make amends with some cheap trinket from a street vendor...
Just as Ryuu was debating whether she needed to return to the Dungeon for the first time in a long while to earn money, a figure approached.
"Riveria-sama?"
...
In the luxurious yet empty room, Syr stared blankly into the distance. The boy was gone, but his warm words still lingered in her heart.
She hadn't expected herself to be this changeable. Barely moments apart from him, and she was already missing him.
As if trying to hold onto his scent, Syr lay down where Bell had slept earlier. She lifted the heavy grimoire in front of her.
Judging by its worth, this grimoire was on par with a Tier 1 piece of Hephaestus Familia equipment—maybe even beyond that. As a thank-you gift, it was far too valuable.
But Bell would never realize that.
Syr smiled faintly and held the now-spent grimoire to her chest. This was the weapon she had given him. Invisible, unnoticed—but different from anything else.
It would stay with him forever. Walk beside him. Accompany him to the peak.
No one could tarnish even a fraction of this girl's affection.
Outside the room, a steady voice called out.
"Intelligence from Loki Familia..."
...
"A weapon isn't that simple, you know?"
In another room, the red-haired, red-eyed Goddess Hephaestus let out a weary, helpless sigh. She frowned at her divine friend kneeling before her.
"..."
Hestia kept her forehead pressed to the floor, saying nothing. After the banquet, once they were alone, the goddess had dropped all pretense and stayed in that posture.
Hephaestus had thought she was just putting on a show—until she woke up and nearly jumped in shock.
"Tell me what this pose is supposed to mean, at least?"
"Prostration."
"What?"
"Take told me that if you do this, no matter what you ask for, the other person will agree."
Hestia explained honestly.
"Take?"
"Takemikazuchi."
"Oh, him..." Hephaestus recalled the war god's face and let out a long sigh. Why did he have to fill Hestia's head with such troublesome and useless ideas?
Soft sunlight fell over the two of them.
Hephaestus knew Hestia absolutely couldn't afford a weapon. As for discounts—impossible. Every weapon was crafted through the blood and sweat of her Familia members. She would never abuse her authority as a Familia God to change prices on a whim. Even so, the red-haired goddess couldn't bring herself to look away coldly.
"You're really going to push yourself this far?"
"Yes. I want to help that child." Hestia answered without hesitation.
"And what else?"
"...What I said earlier was just pretty words. In truth, I'm terrified."
Still kneeling, Hestia's body trembled with tension. "Bell never tells me anything about the Dungeon. What monsters he faces, what dangerous battles he goes through—he's never said a thing."
"..." Hephaestus could tell this was her friend's true heart.
"As that child's Familia God, I've never done anything worth mentioning. I've only watched him come home covered in wounds, watched his Status rise higher and higher..." Hestia's voice wavered.
"I know all of it. Those moments of growth we should celebrate—they're all built from Bell's blood, drop by drop. But I can't do anything for him. All I can do is smile like an idiot. I can't even cry for him, because that would only burden Bell."
A tear hit the floor without her noticing, breaking apart.
"I'm just a useless goddess... I'm terrified that one day Bell will meet a monster he can't defeat and simply disappear. I'm scared he'll notice how cowardly I am and leave me. Whenever I think about him, I shake all over."
"So... I'm begging you, Hephaestus. This is my lifelong plea. No matter what you ask of me, I'll repay the debt... please..."
Hestia's tears fell freely. Fear, affection, guilt, self-hatred—countless emotions weighed down her small frame.
Hephaestus felt the sincerity in her words. Even if she still acted like her usual carefree self, there was no doubt—the goddess before her was changing because of that boy.
"Hestia, what do you mean 'useless'? You were the one who gave that boy his start."
When everyone laughed at Bell Cranel, Hestia accepted him into her Familia. To Hephaestus, that was the beginning of everything—a salvation for them both.
"Stand up. I'll give your child a weapon."
Hestia's eyes widened as she sobbed and rose to her feet.
The red-haired goddess firmly blocked the incoming hug. "Let's be clear. You're still paying for it. Even if it takes centuries, you will repay this debt."
"I... promise... you..." Hestia cried, her voice muddled by tears.
"Enough, stop crying. What weapon did the boy ask for?"
"A dagger..."
"I see..." Hephaestus murmured.
She walked to a tall cabinet and pulled out a crimson iron hammer. Then she approached a crystal chest, unlocked the heavy latch, and took out several metal ingots.
Mithril gleamed with a bright silver light.
Hestia gasped. "Are you... going to forge it yourself?"
"Of course. This is our private matter—how could we involve members of the familia?"
"Wonderful! I never imagined I'd have the honor of having you, hailed as the Divine Smith, craft a weapon for me."
Hestia's tear-stained face instantly shifted into a bright smile.
"I can't wield divine power, you know. I'm just a blacksmith."
"I couldn't care less. As long as it's a weapon forged by you, nothing could make me happier."
"..."
Her divine friend's unshakable trust brought a small flicker of warmth to Hephaestus.
Since she had agreed, she would forge a weapon worthy of her Familia's name.
But there was one crucial problem.
Hephaestus knew nothing about the boy.
To her, forging was similar to painting: to create a piece that truly satisfied its owner, she needed to understand the face of the one who would wield it.
Judging from Hestia's words, the boy shouldered everything alone so she wouldn't worry.
Mocked throughout Orario as the weakest adventurer, he still held firm and pushed onward with courage.
Hephaestus felt that something essential was still missing as a reference for the weapon.
As she frowned in thought, an unexpected figure appeared.
"Loki?" Hestia blinked in disbelief.
"I'm just the messenger, bringing news of Bell Cranel's death," Loki said with a wicked grin.
"What nonsense are you spouting?" Hestia glared at her.
Every god knew their child's life and death instinctively.
"Don't get so tense. I just watched a great show, so I took on this little errand," Loki said as she looked around to confirm no one else was present. "Didn't expect to see you making such a crybaby face, shorty. Worth the trip."
"...I wasn't crying," Hestia muttered.
"What did you mean by 'death news'?" Hephaestus pressed.
"Well, actually..."
As Loki explained, Hephaestus finally understood what the weapon she was about to forge was missing.
Wisdom.
For the boy, what was fitting was a weapon with a life of its own.
Once the idea clicked, the image of the youth—holding both courage and cleverness—took shape in her mind.
Forging a weapon for a new adventurer was never easy.
Too powerful, and it would hinder his growth, dragging him down.
Too weak, and it would disgrace the Familia.
Hephaestus had hesitated for these exact reasons.
But now her thoughts were overflowing.
The boy who had staged his own "death" seemed to be running right before her.
Hephaestus smiled to herself.
The weapon she would forge would be one of a kind.
Growing with the youth, evolving beside him.
Calling it a dagger felt insufficient—it would be more like a child etched with sacred script.
It sounded a bit unorthodox.
But how far could it go?
Hephaestus cast aside all distractions and raised her hammer.
Let me try.
Clang!
Throughout the morning, the forge echoed nonstop.
...
Hestia clutched a rectangular wooden box as she sprinted down the street.
Bell...
She kept repeating the boy's name in her heart.
Bell Cranel was about to enter the Dungeon.
Even with Loki Familia accompanying him, no one knew what might unfold.
Hestia understood how weak she was. Even for a single weapon, she needed her divine friend's help.
But no matter what, she was Bell's Familia God.
So wrapped in a dark hooded cloak from head to toe, Hestia raced toward Loki Familia.
The only thing she could do...was update his Status, turning Excelia into the boy's weapon.
...
The sun rose over the treetops.
Amid the girls' tangled thoughts, Bell Cranel's "expedition" was about to begin.
...