Chapter 438
While Hestia was currently back at the Bahamut familia estate, bawling her eyes out in a tearful panic over the terrifying idea of more debt, the white-haired boy himself was marching with a tense posture toward a completely different destination.
He had already arrived at the Hostess of Fertility.
It was still somewhat early in the morning, the sun having already spilled over the bustling cobblestone streets, which meant the popular pub hadn’t officially opened and wasn’t bustling with rowdy adventurers yet.
For Bell, who was desperate for answers and overwhelmed, this was his golden chance.
“Is Syr here?” Bell asked, his voice laced with nervous urgency as he approached a cat-person waitresses who was lazily sweeping the street outside the pub.
“Ooh, look who’s here! Morning to, nya!” the cat girl responded, pausing her sweeping to lean on her broom handle.
‘If I remember correctly, her name is Anya,’ Bell mused internally as he watched her fluffy tail swish back and forth, completely betraying the amusing, knowing smile that marred her features.
“What’s this, what’s this? No polite greeting in return, just crashing the gates and calling on Syr at this terribly early hour, nya? What are you planning to…..” Anya’s teasing, sing-song voice abruptly trailed off as Bell stepped closer, cutting her off without a second thought.
“Please, just call Syr!” Bell pleaded, his hands clenching into small fists at his sides.
He simply wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with her cheerful shenanigans this morning.
The weight of the grimoire resting in his arms felt heavier than a lead brick.
“Wha…?! Okay, okay, keep your tail on, nya!” Anya relented, her ears flattening slightly in surprise as she observed the lack of color in Bell’s face.
She could tell immediately that the frightened rabbit-boy wasn't his usual, easygoing self.
Ring!
The brass bell hung at the top of the heavy front door echoed sharply through the quiet morning air as Anya turned and went inside to summon her friend.
A few moments later, Anya popped her head back out from behind the door, flashing a sympathetic grimace and motioning for him to come inside.
Stepping cautiously into the hybrid café-pub, Bell observed that the interior was still in the middle of getting ready for the day.
Chairs were still stacked neatly on top of wooden tables, and the faint, comforting scent of yesterday’s ale still lingered in the air.
Looking through the open service window behind the main bar counter, Bell quickly spotted Syr standing by the prep stations.
“Good morning, Bell. Is something the matter?” Syr asked, her soft voice carrying easily through the open kitchen window.
But before Bell could even begin to formulate a proper response, Syr caught sight of his pale, panicked expression and dropped whatever she was holding.
She practically bolted out from behind the kitchen partition, running straight toward him across the wooden floorboards.
Even from a distance, her sharp instincts told her that whatever had driven him here at this hour was something very serious.
Still carrying a small wooden tray cradled in her arms, Syr soon stood right before Bell.
Her distinctive gray hair was neatly tied back with a triangular bandanna, framing a face that was quickly shifting from curiosity to genuine concern.
Wasting no time and throwing away any semblance of a polite greeting, Bell immediately launched into a frantic retelling of everything that had happened.
He stumbled over his own words as he described his experience with the grimoire, the sudden acquisition of magic, and his mishap in the dungeon, involving the Sword Princess.
At first, Syr wore a polite, slightly confused smile, but as his story unraveled, her eyes grew larger and larger.
The color of her face shifted in subtle, unreadable ways at various points in the narrative…..especially when he mentioned how close he had come to Ais.
Whether that sudden flush was genuine surprise or suppressed jealousy, however, it could very well have been a product of Bell’s overactive imagination.
When he was finally done speaking, panting slightly as if he had run a marathon, Syr mirrored an action from their past: she deliberately broke off eye contact, staring down at the wooden tray in her hands.
“…Well, that’s certainly a very sticky situation you’ve found yourself in, Bell,” Syr said, her expression remarkably devoid of panic, heavily leaning instead into quiet amusement.
“Hold on there, Syr! How come you’re acting like you’re not even a little bit involved?!” Bell asked, his voice cracking slightly with disbelief.
He felt an urgent need to call out her strange tone.
It was far too relaxed, almost detached, for a situation as dire as accidental larceny.
‘What is she planning to use me as? Some kind of sacrificial lamb?’ Bell wondered internally, a fresh wave of panic washing over him.
However, completely ignoring his plight and doubling down on her baffling demeanor, Syr slowly lifted the wooden tray up toward her face, using it to skillfully hide the lower half of her features.
She peered over the rim at him, blinking with large, soulful, upturned eyes.
“So… I can’t use you?” she asked, batting her eyelashes in a classic, disarming display of puppy-dog innocence.
“As cute as you look right now…..no! Absolutely not!” Bell quickly interjected, waving his hands defensively as a flaming cherry-red blush rushed to his cheeks.
Her theatrical act was not entirely ineffective; his heart skipped a beat despite himself.
However, his self-preservation instincts were screaming that he wasn't willing to shoulder such a ridiculous, world-shattering debt all on his own.
‘This woman really does sometimes seem like a witch in disguise!’ Bell thought, shuddering internally.
“You’re hitting a nerve, boy! Bursting into other people’s shops this early in the morning just to make a racket!”
A booming, authoritative voice suddenly joined the conversation, slicing right through the tense atmosphere.
The bar’s imposing owner, Mama Mia, had apparently heard their escalating squabble from the back storage rooms and followed the noise out to the main floor.
Despite being a dwarf, her physical frame was terrifyingly muscular and imposing, casting a literal shadow over the trembling boy.
Bell’s entire body froze stiff as a board as she marched right up to him.
Without asking for permission, Mia reached out and plucked the grimoire straight out of his unusually rigid hands, flipping the cover open to glance over the text herself.
“That’s a grimoire, all right… But what’s done is done. Boy, pay it no mind, ya hear?” Mia said, her tone shockingly casual, as if she were discussing the morning weather rather than an item of immense value.
“Huh?? B-b-but…” Bell tried to refute, his brain completely short-circuiting.
He logically knew he should have felt a sense of relief at her words, but his moral compass was spinning out of control.
“The absolute dimwit who left it lying around is at fault. Boy, if you hadn’t picked it up and read it, some other greedy adventurer would have claimed the grimoire was his and taken it anyway. That’s just the harsh reality of Orario. That’s how it is,” Mia replied, her deep voice carrying a strange, heavy weight of persuasive finality.
Syr, meanwhile, just stood off to the side, continuing to wear a small, enigmatic smile, even though she was secretly the one who had meticulously orchestrated the entire bizarre situation from the very beginning.
“The original owner should have been better prepared to lose it the moment they let it out of their direct sight. Think about it logically, boy: if you lost a wallet full of hard-earned cash in the middle of the public square, you’d expect it to vanish, wouldn’t you?” Mia asked, narrowing her eyes as she observed Bell’s deeply skeptical expression.
Although the veteran dwarf was genuinely intrigued by his relentless, suffocating innocence, it was also becoming mildly annoying to deal with……especially since she had to actively play along with this elaborate farce to protect Freya’s twisted games.
“Well…” Bell tried to argue once more, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, much to Mia’s visible frustration.
“It’s the exact same thing! It’s completely useless to sit around worrying about it, boy. Be happy you actually got something valuable out of the deal and let it go,” Mia snapped, delivering her final piece of advice before turning sharply on her heel and marching away.
Bell slowly turned his head back over to Syr.
The silver-haired girl wore a small, sympathetic grimace on her face, tilting her head slightly to the side in a silent gesture of comfort.
‘This whole thing still leaves a lot to be desired, and it would definitely leave a bitter aftertaste’ Bell thought, his face puckering up as if he had just been forced to swallow some terribly bitter herbal medicine.
Suddenly, Mia glanced back at him from over her massive shoulder through the side window, letting out a deep, long-suffering sigh that rattled the hanging mugs.
“Real men don’t brood over things they can’t change!” she hollered loudly across the room.
“Yes, ma’am!” Bell instantly replied out of reflex.
Her powerful, commanding voice hit him like a physical slap to the wrist, causing his whole body to snap rigidly to attention in response.
As he watched the dwarfess make heavy, ground-shaking strides toward the back kitchen, Bell still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it was fundamentally wrong to just ignore what had transpired.
Rubbing the temples of his head in a futile attempt to untangle his racing thoughts, Bell finally decided that it was high time he cut his losses and leave.
“…Well, sorry to disturb your morning preparations. I’ll be going now,” Bell said quietly, turning on his heel toward the exit.
At that exact moment, a very sneaky Anya suddenly materialized from the nowhere, carrying a tightly woven basket and practically shoving it into Syr’s hands.
Syr caught the basket against her chest and… nervously stepped forward, extending it out toward the departing boy.
“Would you… would you be willing to take this again?” Syr asked, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, her cheeks dusted with a faint pink.
“Eh? Uhm… thank you,” Bell stuttered, his defenses instantly crumbling as he automatically took the lunch basket from the outstretched, trembling hands of the shyly smiling girl.
He simply couldn’t bring himself to reject her kindness, especially when she looked like that. Additionally, a traitorous part of his brain noted that Syr always seemed genuinely happy whenever he accepted her homemade meals.
Clutching the warm lunch basket to his chest, Bell finally exited the Hostess of Fertility, stepping back out into the bright, morning light of Orario.
Upon arriving back home at the church, he pushed the heavy wooden door open and immediately called out for his goddess.
“Lady goddess, where are you?” Bell called into the room, but only dead silence greeted him in return.
‘Huh? Did she already go out? But I’ve only been gone for like thirty minutes, and she specifically told me her part-time work doesn't start until noon... Could it be that she actually panicked and… ran away?’ Bell thought, a cold sweat breaking out across his neck.
He immediately shook his head hard, denying the very notion of such a ridiculous thought.
Hestia wasn't that kind of irresponsible goddess… right?
“Maybe she just went out for a short walk to get some fresh air. I should probably run some errands; maybe I might find her out in the streets in the process,” Bell mused, trying to rationalize the empty room.
Carefully setting down Syr’s lunch basket and the now useless grimoire onto the wobbly wooden table, Bell grabbed his wallet from the dresser and stepped back out into the morning sun, locking the church door behind him.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
Jogging down the branching streets of West Main to clear his head, Bell suddenly remembered something upon catching sight of crates being loaded into a cart.
“That’s right, I used my last potion three days ago” he muttered.
The past few days had been rather eventful, so he hadn’t visited in a while.
‘They’ve helped me out a few times… Maybe I should swing by their shop first?’ he thought, remembering the face of impoverished acquaintances.
The shop was located just off West Main, though it required a detour through a maze of quiet backstreets.
Tucked into a dark, damp alcove, the building was easy to miss, yet a sign hung proudly above the front door……the emblem of the Miach Familia, depicting a completely healthy humanoid body.
“Ex-cuse me, good morn-ing…” Bell greeted, pushing the wooden double doors a crack and peeking inside.
His eyes scanned the rows of largely empty shelves, searching for a particular dog-girl in the dim interior.
Hearing his voice, a girl slowly turned her half-closed eyes in his direction.
“Morning, Bell. Long time, no see…”
With her slow drawl and drowsy expression, anyone might assume she had just rolled out of bed. But that was simply the girls default state……at least, as far as Bell knew.
Her taste in clothing was just as eccentric; her tail poked awkwardly through a hole in her skirt, her left sleeve stretched down to her elbow, and her right sleeve extended all the way to her wrist.
A single glove adorned her right hand alone.
She was Naaza, the sole member of the Miach Familia.
Pausing what she was doing, she shuffled to the back of the shop and stepped behind the counter. “Sorry to come in this early. Are you busy?” Bell asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“No worries. No one will be coming in after you leave anyway, Bell… So, what’re you going to buy today?” she asked, reaching under the counter to retrieve a closed case, which she set down between them.
Inside the wide container, numerous glass tubes filled with colorful liquids sat neatly in a row.
‘No one is coming after me? What does she mean?’ Bell wondered, though he decided not to pry.
Even knowing the Miach Familia struggled for clientele, it was still morning…..plenty of time for potential patrons to wander in.
The remark struck him as oddly melancholic.
“By the way, is Lord Miach around? I would like to speak with him if it’s all right,” Bell asked, changing the subject.
“Lord Miach is out on an errand with lady Aasterinian and won’t be back until tonight. I’m alone today…” Naaza replied flatly.
‘Astar….who is that?’ Bell wondered, but once again he didn’t pry.
“I see,” he murmured, glancing back down at the tubes.
“Say, Bell, what do you think? Isn’t it about time to try a high potion…?” Naaza suddenly asked, her tone shifting slightly.
“Uh, n-no, it’s still too soon for me,” Bell stammered, instantly trying to deflect the pitch.
At that, both of them chuckled.
The proposal had become a fixture of his visits…..a running ritual born of mutual, grinding poverty.
Whenever he stopped by, Naaza would inevitably try to squeeze whatever Valis she could from his pockets, and the high-grade potions she pushed always cost tens of thousands of Valis.
“Seriously, though, Bell, you should consider buying one soon. You might not get it this cheap in the future,” Naaza said, her expression surprisingly grave.
“What do you mean?” Bell asked, caught off guard by her sudden seriousness.
“It’s not exactly a huge secret, but Lord Miach managed to secure a massive deal with the Bahamut Familia. Things are finally looking up for us. It’s only a matter of time before we rise again... and this shop might be closing soon, too,” Naaza dropped the bombshell casually.
“Eh…?” Bell gasped, entirely stunned by the news.
This store had been his lifeline when he first started out as an adventurer, offering potions starting as low as 500 Valis.
Though he rarely visited now…..having teamed up with Lili, who managed his inventory efficiently……the thought of the shop disappearing felt strangely heavy.
“Erm, first of all, congratulations, Naaza-san,” Bell said, offering a genuine, warm smile.
Yet, a prickle of guilt followed close behind.
He remembered the times he had walked in and found them practically starving.
Yet, the moment his circumstances improved, he had drifted away, only returning by coincidence.
“Thank you, Bell… So, how about it? Want to buy one now?” Naaza pressed gently.
‘Ugh, this is a tough decision. The dungeon is currently closed, so my budget is tight’ Bell deliberated internally.
But ultimately, he had to shake his head.
He simply couldn't afford it.
“Sorry, just regular stamina and healing potions for today,” Bell replied.
“I see. Well, there’s always next time,” Naaza said, showing no sign of disappointment.
Even so, the silence threatened to stretch uncomfortably.
Desperate for a change of subject, Bell clapped his hands together.
“Ah! I just remembered! Something strange happened to me in the dungeon recently.”
Eagerly, he launched into the tale of how he had completely passed out after overusing his magic.
Naaza listened intently, offering a low, thoughtful, “Hmm!”
“That is a case of Mind Down,” Naaza diagnosed immediately.
“It happens all the time to adventurers who’ve just learned magic and let themselves get carried away.”
“Mind Down…?” Bell repeated.
“Magic requires mind power to function. If you drain too much, your consciousness flickers out just like a candle in a windy draft,” she explained, rustling through a box beneath the counter. “…Which is why you need a mind-restoring potion to avoid it. We brewed this batch just the other day…”
She slid a sleek vial across the wood.
“Uh, but… that potion is really expensive…” Bell grumbled, eyeing the price tag in his mind.
“No worries. I’ll give you a discount, seeing as you’re a regular and all… Eight thousand seven hundred Valis,” Naaza countered smoothly.
Bell stepped back for a moment, silently doing the math.
“All right…” he finally agreed.
A triumphant glint flashed in Naaza’s eyes.
Bending over swiftly, she pulled out two more tubes and placed them beside the first.
“If you’re willing to buy that for eighty-seven hundred, I’ll throw in these two stamina potions for a total of nine thousand seven hundred. Sound good?”
The sweet deal made Bell’s head spin.
‘Is that actually a good bargain?’ he wondered.
Dealing with Naaza always left him with the nagging sensation that he was being duped.
Still, he handed over the money without argument.
As he turned to leave, he could have sworn he heard Naaza murmur, “Easy.”
Deciding it was best not to ask, Bell quickly gathered his purchases and hurried out the door.
He still had to resume his errand and search for Hestia.
A/N: Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, donate and read 2 extra chapters as a free member.