Night had settled in. Magic Stone lamps glimmered in the distance, their glow muffled by the cool, quiet breeze. On a stone path off the main street, Bell and Laurier walked side by side. He had chosen this secluded route on purpose. Though they were headed toward the church at Hestia's main headquarters, there were far fewer people along the way. The suspicious individuals who had been watching outside the tavern had all started tailing them.
Feeling the sting of several sharp gazes, Laurier tensed up.
"Don't pay attention to the people behind us. Just pretend you don't notice and talk with me," Bell murmured.
"O-okay..." Laurier replied.
She fell silent for a moment, as if steadying her heart. Amid the awkward, delicate stillness, Laurier finally spoke.
"Bell... about what happened in the tavern... I hope you can act like it never happened."
"..."
Bell glanced at the golden-haired Elf from the corner of his eye. In the dim light of the narrow path, her cheeks still held the faint tint of sunset.
"If Laurier wants to call it drunken nonsense, I'll go along with that. But... can you really forget it?" he answered softly.
Her words, her closeness—everything had turned into memories now, deeply etched into both their hearts. Forgetting them was impossible.
"I... I can't..."
Even remembering it made Laurier flush with a shyness she had never felt before, her heartbeat fluttering out of control. There was no way she could throw it away. The warmth of that intimate moment still lingered vividly in her mind. She only wished to tuck it carefully away in her heart like a treasured keepsake.
Their footsteps overlapped across the stone path, yet even that was drowned out by the pounding in her chest. Laurier didn't want to admit that alcohol had pushed her to confess. She searched her own heart, where her feelings bloomed like a flower turning toward the sun.
Even if Hermes had instigated her, even if the alcohol had clouded her thoughts, the love in her heart—Laurier was certain—was undeniably real. She had never felt such trembling for anyone. Just walking beside Bell filled her with joy.
Yet Laurier also knew that this love would never receive the blessing of the Sacred Tree. In the eyes of that pure, sacred presence, a boy with multiple lovers must surely seem unclean. Giving up early and distancing herself would be the proper path for someone pure.
Laurier understood this... and still, she wanted to fall.
"Bell... why do you want a harem?"
She couldn't hold the question back. She wanted to grow closer to him, to understand more about the hero who had saved her.
"If you promise you won't laugh after hearing it, I'll tell you," Bell said, recalling a story from long ago.
"I promise," Laurier replied, wanting to hear his true thoughts before making her choice.
"Let me think... It was when I had just started to understand the world a little. Back then, it was just my grandfather and me." Bell skimmed over the harsher parts of his past. "I was a really mischievous kid and hated learning to read. Grandpa knew I loved stories, so he drew his own pictures and showed me all sorts of hero tales."
Laurier listened quietly, as if she could see the young boy completely absorbed in those hand-drawn pictures.
Bell continued, "I always admired heroes. But the more stories I saw, the more I realized they weren't as wonderful as I imagined."
"Some of them were terribly tragic. Even if they were inspiring, every character still ended up dying in sorrow."
Betrayal, forgiveness, despair... sacrificing oneself to illuminate the path ahead... In those tragedies, there wasn't a single character whose fate didn't make you ache.
"Some stories never have a continuation. Whether it's the lovable girls or the hero who rises to prominence, none of them ever get a happy ending."
The cliché of a hero saving a girl and then falling in love appears in countless tales of heroes, yet the result is almost always disappointing. Many characters' feelings barely sprout and never have the chance to bloom. The girls who harbor affection are always depicted as so fragile and moving. A noble Elf travels alongside the hero she loves, together with the other girls… and then the story simply ends.
Such vague, unresolved endings were something Bell could never accept.
"I want to be a different kind of hero—one who makes every encounter meaningful, who brings smiles to girls' faces, who makes anyone who hears the tale admire the hero from the bottom of their heart."
In the quiet of night, Bell voiced his resolve.
"So that's why I pursue a harem."
"..."
Laurier let out a gentle smile. Her golden hair seemed to sway along with it.
"You promised not to laugh at me," Bell said, half complaining.
"Sorry, sorry… I didn't mean to…"
Laurier couldn't stop smiling. She could hear the boy's longing and hopes. Before a soul this pure, even the Sacred Tree's radiance might seem dim.
Tainted? If the Sacred Tree truly cursed a boy like this, then all the faith Laurier had placed in it up until now would have been nothing but blind and small.
Her steps grew lighter.
Learning what was in the boy's heart—how blissful it felt.
The restraints pressing down on her chest dissolved, replaced by a rising, weightless joy.
Just like an oracle from Hermes.
Laurier felt herself carried along by the river of fate—refreshing, sweet, utterly intoxicating.
"Bell, I understand your dream now, but… there must be another reason, right?"
The boy froze for a moment, then let out a small smile. "Do I really have to say it…? Of course it's because I like pretty girls."
Laurier's smile grew even brighter. Even under the night sky, this sunflower bloomed brilliantly.
"Hehe, I knew it…"
As they continued forward, the street ahead had become completely empty.
Under the cool moonlight, Laurier reached out and clasped the boy's right hand.
"Bell… what I said back in the tavern—I meant every word."
Laurier had already been rejected once.
More accurately, her confession had been put on hold.
If she failed now, they might not even be able to remain friends.
Yet Laurier still chose to speak from her heart.
Just as Bell drew breath to speak, Laurier pressed her index finger gently against his lips.
"I'm not ready yet. Don't tell me your answer… not for now."
She suddenly smiled, as though something had come to mind.
Stopping beside a tree, she motioned for Bell to come closer before softly embracing him.
"If we want those people following us to lower their guard, this is the quickest way. Think of it as payback for the hellhound incident."
The place and situation were completely different, yet the warmth of her embrace and the fluttering in her chest were exactly the same.
Under the moonlight, Laurier didn't give the boy any chance to speak. She simply held him tightly, like a kitten clinging to warmth it never wanted to let go of.
...
Behind them, one of the men couldn't help but curse under his breath.
"Damn it, I told you this wasn't a trap. They picked this secluded path on purpose to do that kind of thing."
"Enough. Quit stalling and move." another man replied.
They drew their blades and advanced toward the embracing pair.
Moonlight flickered across the metal, cold and sharp.
Just as the men quieted their steps and crept closer, the two figures pressed against the tree seemed overcome by heat, clinging even tighter to each other as they shifted behind the trunk.
The men grinned lewdly and quickened their pace.
Leaves rustled, tree shadows swayed restlessly in the wind.
The man at the front, however, suddenly realized he could no longer see the youth or the Elf.
"?!"
The pair who had been locked in an embrace right before his eyes had completely vanished.
The others rushed up from behind.
"Where'd they go?!"
"I—I didn't see them either! There's nowhere to hide around here!"
They looked around in confusion, unable to understand how living people had disappeared into thin air.
A scream tore through the night.
"Behind… behind us!"
They spun around. One of the men at the rear had already collapsed to the ground.
The white-haired boy stood beneath the moonlight like a ghost, his expression ice-cold.
"What business do you have with me?"
"You little brat, where'd you hide that Elf?!" one man snarled.
"She's already gotten away. Aren't you afraid the Guild will punish you for this?"
Bell used the moment to probe them for information.
"Our comrade died mysteriously in the Dungeon. Of course we're here to settle the score with that damned Elf!" the man barked, claiming righteous justification.
"Is that so… Then how about we go to the Guild right now? I'm sure they'll investigate and hand down punishment."
Bell's cold voice exposed the flaw in their excuse.
"..."
The man froze, speechless.
"What's wrong? Is there something you can't let the Guild know?"
Bell's quiet tone tolled like a death knell, striking straight into their hearts.
"Tch… Just take this brat out first! Then find that blonde Elf! No matter what, we have to offer her to that Master!"
The leader's face twisted with malice, his disguise completely discarded.
At his order, the man who'd fallen earlier grabbed a dagger and tried to get up—only for the boy to kick him back down without mercy.
The white hair reflecting the moonlight carried a biting chill.
"Hey, that's the Adventurer who leveled up in half a month…"
The trembling comment spread fear through the group.
"A genius like that… There's no way we can beat him…"
"He defeated a Minotaur while still Level 1…"
The leader scowled and spat out a curse.
"Useless idiots! Think—how long have we been stuck on the Middle Floors? Even if he really did level up, there's no way he's stronger than us! Get him!"
Adventurers need accumulated experience to grow.
Leveling up in half a month sounded like a fantasy—he must have rushed it, forcing the process without building a proper foundation.
In other words, to them, Bell was nothing but a paper tiger.
The longsword swung first, dripping with killing intent.
Bell wore only his everyday clothes, no light armor. One direct hit would leave him bleeding badly.
Yet he didn't panic. He didn't run.
Too slow.
The longsword aimed at his abdomen, the opponent's movements—compared to that raging bull, everything was painfully slow.
Bell drew his dagger, easily knocked the longsword aside, and countered at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.
"With just one strike..."
The others in the rear stared dumbstruck at the fallen figure. This was vastly different from what they'd anticipated. Fear steadily grew within them, as if they'd encountered a monster.
"What are you standing around for? Unless you want to end up like those guys in the Dungeon, get moving!"
The man at the rear barked the threat.
Bell frowned. It seemed that encounter with the monster held hidden implications.
Amidst his thoughts, spears, short swords, daggers, iron hammers... a hail of weapons descended upon him. Amidst the man's crazed gaze, blood blossomed and scattered in the wind.
"...?!"
Bell remained unscathed. Facing the assault of several Level 2 foes, he dodged, parried, and thrust his dagger—a chilling white grim reaper sweeping all before him.
...
Unseen in the distance, the god Hermes observed everything from above. "I don't recall you having such a hobby," Asfi remarked.
She hadn't gone to investigate the suspicious familia base as agreed, instead handing that task to Lulune. Instead, she'd obeyed the Familia God's command and brought the other party here.
Below her gaze, the youth was locked in fierce combat with a mob of thugs. Every attack, every evasion, revealed the Minotaur's tempering in his movements.
"Such is the nature of a god. Watching thugs dance before you is quite the pleasure."
Hermes chuckled softly, admiring the one-sided battle.
"Asfi, what do you see?"
"Bell Cranel moves with remarkable agility... as if..." Asfi replied with a hint of surprise.
"Yes... Perhaps no one else notices, but I understand."
Hermes kept his true thoughts to himself.
In his eyes, Bell Cranel was a hero of a different kind. Though the Freya Familia had their own battlegrounds for internal conflict, the youth clearly stood above them.
Bell possessed an intimate familiarity with the human body's movements. This awareness had become deeply ingrained.
No matter how many internal conflicts adventurers endured, their ultimate target remained the monsters of the dungeon.
But Bell was different. Training since childhood and his personal intellect had forged his uniqueness.
To put it bluntly, in the boy's eyes, monsters were likely no different from humans. If he encountered a kind and righteous monster, he would protect it without hesitation. If he encountered wicked, despicable humans, he would decisively draw his dagger.
Hermes now watched precisely such a unique hero. The path ahead would be strewn with thorns and precipices. Yet the youth would undoubtedly press forward without a backward glance.
It was precisely this that stirred the blood and stirred the soul. Hermes wished to bear witness. What kind of change would this Last Hero, this hero unlike any other, bring to the world?
"Then dance on, Bell Cranel!"
...
Too slow.
Bell deeply understood what the level-up, so coveted by adventurers, truly meant. His vision was crystal clear, his movements fluid. Time itself seemed to accelerate, drawing him closer to the gods.
The Blade of Hestia traced a blue-violet arc through the air. In mere moments, everyone lay fallen. The Hestia Knife traced indigo arcs through the air. In mere moments, every opponent lay fallen.
"This... this can't be!"
The man at the rear cried out in disbelief.
Experience point accumulation was absolute. If this white-haired youth had truly just reached Level Lv.2, then his pre-level-up Status must have been... utterly absurd.
"Impossible... absolutely impossible!"
The man scrambled backward, terror etched across his face. The next second, he burst into maniacal laughter.
"Don't... don't come any closer!"
He thought it was divine intervention. A child, playing somewhere nearby, had wandered into this path.
The child darted out from the grass, landing right before the man. The man grabbed the child, pressed a dagger to his throat, and threatened, "Come any closer, and I'll kill him!"
"...."
Bell stopped in his tracks.
Asfi witnessed the scene, wrinkling her brow in disgust. "Hermes-sama..."
"Do not intervene."
Hermes issued the order coldly.
The era marched forward, heroes gathering one by one. The King, the Nine Hell, the Braver, the Sword Princess...
These individuals, each possessing the caliber of a hero, shared the same stage. Yet, their paths gradually began to converge around Bell Cranel.
If he couldn't even overcome a lowly villain, how could this youth ever lead anything?
Hermes sought to see how this unconventional hero would confront humanity's malice. Would he persuade with words? Or sacrifice himself to save others? Or perhaps, disregarding all, use the boy's death to ignite the killing intent within his heart.
Regardless of the choice, Hermes would recognize this youth.
Under the cold moonlight, one human and one god watched the tragedy unfold.
...
The man saw Bell halt his steps and grinned maliciously.
"Drop your weapon! No... stab yourself in the gut!"
"...Do you really think I'd be that foolish? If I fall, you won't spare the boy witnessing this either."
Bell responded calmly.
"Cut the crap! You want to watch me stab him to death?!"
The man tightened his grip, the dagger's tip piercing the boy's skin, drawing a few drops of blood.
"Waaaaaah..."
The boy burst into tears instantly.
"Listen carefully. If you kill him, I won't feel guilty because you're the criminal. But I will be angry. I'll sever your Achilles tendons, make you wish you were dead, and give you the punishment you deserve."
Bell remained rooted to the spot, neither advancing to provoke the man nor stabbing himself as the man demanded.
"Hmm..."
The man now understood that this youth was not one of those brainless do-gooders. Further threats were futile.
"I see... Then this is the deal: you let us go, and I'll release this child."
Bell frowned slightly, responding decisively, "Agreed."
In the moonlight, the man's smile was utterly vile. He exchanged a glance with his companion.
Just as one of them scrambled to his feet, clenched a small knife, and lunged at the youth—
"Firebolt."
The words hadn't faded when thunderous flames erupted.
The fire tongues devoured the knife, shot past the fallen man, and slammed into a crumbling wall, bathing the dim space in a brilliant crimson glow.
The stone wall collapsed, dust billowing.
"Laurier, move."
As the man froze in shock from the sudden flame Magic, the dagger in his hand seemed to be seized tightly by someone else, and the boy was pulled away.
The next second, Bell had already charged forward.
Beneath those angry crimson eyes, a violet-blue light erupted violently. The Hestia Knife plunged straight into the man's abdomen.
"You... you?!"
It all happened too suddenly; the man was utterly stunned.
Bell stabbed again at the man's leg, then turned away coldly, without a shred of pity.
Under the moonlight, wails echoed unceasingly.
Ignoring the fallen man, Bell walked toward Laurier's side.
"You worked hard."
Laurier smiled softly, examining the boy's injuries. Satisfied they were minor, she relaxed.
"It's fine. I left the fighting entirely to you. It was my duty."
Bell quickly sensed something amiss. "Let me see your hand."
"I'm really fine..."
Laurier hid her right hand behind her back, evading the youth's gaze.
"I feel like this has happened before..."
Bell recalled the scene of the hellhound's scorching flames and firmly seized Laurier's right hand.
Deep knife wounds ran across both sides of her palm, fresh crimson blood dripping steadily.
"Why did you do this?"
The wound clearly came from clutching a dagger with her palm to shield the boy from harm.
Laurier lowered her head. "I wasn't sure I could take him down. If he'd noticed, the boy would've been in danger."
Using her stealth to become a shield.
Such a foolish act.
Yet it radiated the Elf's noble purity and sense of justice.
Bell chuckled softly, offering a vial of healing potion.
"Nothing fancy, just enough to treat minor wounds. If you refuse this, I'll have to refuse your earlier offer too."
"Earlier offer..."
Laurier blinked.
She quickly realized the boy was referring to her confession in the tavern.
"So you accept?!"
"Drink the potion first, then I'll tell you." Bell watched the blood seeping steadily and hurriedly replied.
"Mm..."
Laurier took the potion and downed it in one gulp.
Though the potion tasted bitter at first, the moment it touched her throat, it became sweet beyond measure.
With their coordinated efforts, the commotion concluded flawlessly.
All fallen individuals were subdued, awaiting judgment and punishment.
The little boy's mother embraced her child, repeatedly thanking the pair.
"Thank you, big hero!"
The boy waved cheerfully in farewell.
Bell and Laurier set off together on their return journey.
In the moonlight, their tightly clasped hands spoke volumes of warmth and affection.
...
"I never imagined even I'd fall for it…"
Hermes replayed the scene in his mind, still buzzing with excitement.
From the start, Laurier had never left.
The boy who dreamed of a harem hadn't told the girl to run from the battlefield.
Instead, Bell kept Laurier hidden, like he was guarding against someone snatching a bystander, avoiding any unexpected accidents.
It wasn't the act of a hero, but the judgment of someone wise.
Hermes was sure of it now.
Bell Cranel was a truly unconventional hero—an unknown that even the Gods couldn't foresee.
A gift from the great ones above, one that would change Orario entirely.
"Bell Cranel…"
Hermes' eyes widened as he forced down the heat and excitement rising inside him.
There was no doubt. A new myth of a Familia was about to be written here.
One even the Gods had no knowledge of.
The real hero's tale was only just beginning.