Chapitre 2: Chapter 1
Two men made their way through the upper floors of the dungeon after sneaking through Babel's entrance. The upper floors were crowded with new Adventures moving solo or in parties, but none seemed to take much notice of the two men as they passed by. This could have been due to others minding their own business, but it had more to do with the two men moving in spiritual form.
None could really see the two men until they opted to materialize in an inconspicuous location. The problem with moving in a spiritual form was the lack of ability to physically sense and interact with their surroundings.
The two men appeared.
One wore white robes whose sleeves travelled well passed the reach of the arms. White and silver-like hair adorned his head, the bangs crossing over the face to frame the eyes while the length of the hair reached well past the shoulders. Sandals adorned his feet, and a mechanical snake made of interlocking metal joints was wrapped around the staff held in his hands.
The other man that appeared was a towering giant with robust olive skin. He was bare chested, rippled muscles in full display while a pleated fustanella wrapped around his waist. A mane of wild hair framed his head, his robust and hard features giving him the presence of a solemn warrior. An ax-sword was strapped on his side, but the primary great bow equipped over his back appeared to be the main weapon.
"Caster," the giant spoke, his voice a deep baritone like the rumbling of a dragon. "What are you staring at? Our goal is to scout the known floors. Not stare at walls."
"I am, Archer." Caster, ever reticent, responded sharply, his gaze focused ahead of him.
"Still as prickly as always." The giant shook his head, more than aware of his comrade's general disposition. "I'll just leave you to it then."
"Hn." Caster hummed, not even bothering to glance back at his companion. Something else had caught his attention.
Reflected in Caster's eyes wasn't merely the walls of the dungeon, but something much more peculiar.
Bodies.
Hundreds of them fused to the dungeon's walls in one manner or another.
How strange.
Caster began brain storming, using intelligence gathered by the others, compiled, and then shared with all.
What did the information say about those that died in the Dungeon?
Caster prided himself on good memory. It didn't take him long to recall in his musing.
Supposedly, if the Divine perished within the dungeon, they would not return to the upper realm in the case of Gods. Then what of their Familia imbued with their divinity?
Caster was staring at the answer.
The numerous bodies melded into the dungeon's fabric of existence were like the Dungeon's rations. They flooded the area of the upper floor and no one else seemed capable of perceiving them but him.
Caster's relation to death, the underworld, and his legend was what likely enabled Caster to perceive what other Adventurers couldn't. After all, his greatest work revolved around healing death.
Glancing at Archer trekking ahead, Caster took a moment to gather his thoughts. Then, crouching down, he inspected one of the bodies in more detail. His hands passed right through, and there was no reaction whatsoever. However, Caster was a doctor before a mage. His knowledge of human anatomy enabled him to assess a person's condition through observation alone. The chest rises and falls, the eyes twitch beneath closed eyelids.
Caster grew increasingly sure of it.
These bodies melded into the Dungeons walls might as well have been tormented spirits. Doomed to be the Dungeon's spare rations, sucked dry for an eternity. No wonder Gods were unable to return to the Upper Realm if the they died in the Dungeon. Their fate was likely no better than these deceased Adventurers.
Caster suddenly frowned in thought, staring at his hands, and then back to the bodies before shaking his head and moving on.
There were far too many, and he was no saint.
Caster followed Archer, all the while continuing his study of the Dungeon.
The colours of the Dungeon's walls appeared to change with depth. The 1st -4th floors were light blue, 5-7 light green, 8-9 brown, and so on until the place itself widened and created new environments.
Caster had a working theory the further he and Archer explored while noting the number of phantom bodies he could see melded into the Dungeon. They were the nutrients. The sustenance. It was like walking into the levels of hell. The upper areas were rife with the weaker deceased, the numbers decreasing floor by floor.
The Dungeon was said to be abnormal, closer to a living specimen than a magic construct. A simple biological analogy had Caster surmise the Dungeon as a variable organism, and all the adventures that explored its depths, the food. The monsters spawned, the antibodies.
Like humans, the start of digestion was a mix of weak chemical amylase and mechanical chewing, before going down the esophagus and straight into acid within the widened cavern of the stomach. What follows are the twisting mazes of the small intestines where the food is showered with enzymes from other organs to break the food down. It widens again in the lower levels of the large intestines.
The upper floors of the Dungeon were the mouth, the middle floors embody the stomach, the cave labyrinths the small intestines where all water is squeezed out, and the lower and deep floors the large intestines reaching towards the exit at the bottom.
Caster noted that the entire Dungeon could be a process; the bodies absorbed into the walls being extracted of their nutrients through a villi-like mechanism most efficient in the lower floors. Then again, the lower the floor, the fewer but stronger the Adventurers.
Inwardly, Caster's mind was a hive of activity, but all Archer could see as he and Caster proceeded on, was Caster's indifferent expression.
They passed points known as safe zones where monsters couldn't spawn but had the ability to climb up from lower floors. Here, they'd dematerialize and pass on through to continue their scouting mission before indulging in pleasantries with others at a later point.
Caster wasn't worried about progressing to the deep floors at all despite the increasing danger. Few people had earned Caster's confidence to be treated as a comrade and friend, but Archer was one such person: A beast of a man who overcame even the hardest of labours.
Left unsaid, but Caster was the hardest to get along with among their group and Archer was the only exception because they knew each other.
Caster could focus on his thoughts while Archer handled everything else.
A perfect arrangement.
It was only after reaching the last known level of the dungeon that Caster and Archer paused and moved no further.
Caster for a different reason than Archer who only took note of the oddity when addressing his friend.
"Let's go Caster." Archer suggested while keeping monsters at bay with his bow. "We've scouted enough of the known floors to give an idea to the others."
No response.
"Caster?" Archer finished shooting thousands of arrows at once, decimating everything in the area before looking to his comrade.
Caster was crouched over, staring intently at a spot on the ground where Archer couldn't perceive anything at all.
The scene couldn't have been any more different in Caster's eyes.
He was staring at a body sprawled and almost fully melded into the Dungeon-level's floor. It was a fair skinned woman with a shade of hair like Caster's own. She was dressed in a dark gothic-styled dress that spanned to her feet. Of course, most of her body was practically absorbed into the Dungeon, leaving little to imagine that she and the other bodies Caster could spot on this level fueled the entire area.
Again, the lower the floor, the stronger the Adventurer, and the more the Dungeon could likely extract from them.
Around the woman's neck was a necklace inlaid with a green gemstone, and different from all the other bodies Caster had come across, her eyes were open.
One eye was green, and the other a piercing grey.
Caster was unabashedly staring directly at the woman's face without blinking.
Abruptly, the pupils adjusted, shifting to stare into Caster's eyes in muted protest. Alas, the rest of her body didn't seem able to move or express emotion the way her eyes did. They still flickered with the light of intelligence and awareness, dulled, resigned, and subdued as it was.
Caster could care less.
A reaction? This was what he focused on.
He raised a finger and then waved it in front of the woman's eyes, expecting her pupils to follow the movement or at least indulge him. But all Caster got in return was a flat stare of contempt.
She was certainly aware to some extent, Caster concluded.
"Nod if you understand," he listed.
No movement, but the eyes were certainly glaring now.
"If you cooperate, I may be able to help you," Caster muttered before sighing when all he got in turn was a dismissive attitude.
"I am a doctor," Caster stated.
'And I'm dead,' the eyes might as well have conveyed.
"What?" Caster felt snubbed. He was just stating the obvious. "You think I can't do it?"
No reply. He wasn't expecting a response anyway, but he couldn't help but feel his ego was being scorned or derided.
"Who do you think I am? I am far better than you. That's a given." He stated with neither malice or frustration, only genuine confusion. There was nothing he could not heal.
By now, the woman had chosen to close her eyes, accept her fate, and ignore Caster.
In the end, Caster decided as he weighed the options in his mind. An idea then clicked.
-Orders were orders, but the pursuit of his medicine trumped all.
What others could not do, Caster could.
It may have been different if they'd died outside the Dungeon, but here, Caster could clearly see the souls tethered to the Dungeon for assimilation. All of them were sick. Nothing more than another patient to treat. He wasn't planning on this from the entrance of the dungeon, but now he changed his mind near the bottom levels.
Much as he abhorred it, divine blood ran through his veins, and for a patient, he would use it without hesitation.
Beginning operation.
Caster activated a skill.
['Child of Apollo']
Sunlight shone from the dark of the deep floors, illuminating the caverns and instantly causing the woman's eyes to widen, recognizing divinity for what it was. The Authority that belonged to the realm of the Gods.
Warmth flooded the area with Caster as its source, the sound of a harp playing in the background.
The dungeon rumbled at the presence of the Divine, causing Archer's expression to harden. But Caster was unperturbed as he quickly deployed his Class's unique Territory Creation, concealing their presence by overriding the space around him.
"Treatment has been determined."
Caster's eyes stared down into the woman's own, glowing with the light of a prophesized star.
"A-Arcanum?" The woman rasped out barely beyond a whisper and left unheard, proving that she could talk.
Caster would have denied the guess anyway. This was not the work of the Gods, but him alone through the potential of man.
This was a miracle fueled through his own accomplishments as the father of medicine crystallized into legend rather than a God's Authority.
"This is nothing compared to a true resurrection…"
Caster raised his arms, a ball of liquid, the mythical blood of a Gorgon, congealing into a sphere in his palms. It was the very representation of the elixir that cheated death itself.
"But it's more than enough for someone like you."
Pouring the concoction over the woman's body, the liquid fully submerged her and imprinted her figure, revealing her to Archer who had half suspected Caster had gone crazy.
"Resurrection Fraught Hades."
Caster intoned, the liquid pulsing with light before fading away to reveal a corporal body, breathing, if just completely immobile.
The body was alive now, but comatose, unable to ever wake, the soul trapped within.
Caster grimaced, knowing it would turn out this way. He only had one half of the ingredients required to remake his legendary elixir in full. Through the blood of the Gorgon, the body could be remade, but the other half was what enabled the soul to retake possession of the body.
Therefore, this was another failure.
A far cry from the perfection Caster zealously sought to replicate, but he wasn't without an answer in his time spent researching medicine in this new world.
The secret ingredient to the miracle Caster created in life was not only the blood of a Gorgon he already possessed, but the divinity of a God on the same level as Artemis or Athena. Naturally, the second ingredient was exceedingly hard to come by in life, but here where Gods walked the world and granted strength to their Familia…Their blood should be plenty potent. If not, he could settle with copious amounts of it.
This opportunity was what convinced Caster to action.
The woman in front of him reeked of aunt Hera's divinity, and it got Caster thinking about all the other bodies he'd passed throughout the dungeon. Those in the upper floors were too great and too irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but the numbers that dwindled in the lower floors were a different matter.
Based on importance, more Gods may be willing to 'donate' to the cause…
"Caster, you've got that look in your eye again," Archer shook his head at Caster's antics.
In the end, the two Servants did make their way back eventually.
Caster had stopped repeatedly and cast his Noble Phantasm across larger areas in the Dungeon's lower floors until he was zealously lugging unconscious bodies around.
All for the pursuit of medicine!
From his patients Caster could sense the aura of his aunts and uncles, but he could recognize none of them as demi-gods.
This was likely the Falna that Caster had heard about in Orario.
Caster could sense the divinities of Zeus, Hera, and even aunt Astraea among those he'd gathered and plucked like spring onions on a farm range. From the looks of it, there was an entire party of Astraea members.
Idly, Caster wondered how emaciated aunt Astraea would be with the amount of divine blood she'd have to donate for them.
Caster had no real qualms with aunt Astraea but he was fair. If she wanted them back, she'd have to bleed.
There was no sympathy.
Gods didn't matter to Caster all that much to begin with.
Instead, Caster naturally viewed them as the pinnacle to creating the best tonics and elixirs.
A twisted smile made its way onto Caster's face as he imagined extorting Divine blood from those arrogant bastards that he could use to further recreate his ultimate true medicine.
Zeus in particular; the bastard who vaporized him through lightning bolt before he could reach the zenith of medicine.
He'd wring that bastard dry.
Oh, better yet, he could even earn some favours from Archer by letting Archer be the one to deal with Hera. If Caster remembered right, Hera made Archer kill his family not just once, but twice.
Archer practically hated her. It could be a cathartic session for him.
If the goal was the completion of the Dungeon, then Caster felt it was worth it to exhaust himself using his Noble Phantasm repeatedly to bring back so many specime- patients. The future benefits and allies may even outweigh the prior costs.
However, this didn't mean Caster's excessive use of his magic energy was without any toll. He was panting for breath, looking utterly haggard. He carried a few people in his arms, but the majority were being carried by his trusty snake.
As for Archer-
"Well, what are you waiting for? Carry the rest." Caster panted, giving Archer the stink eye for not seeing the obvious. "A frail doctor does not carry his patients. Put those over-sized muscles to use. That damn Rider. Where's his chariot when you need it?"
Archer shook his head, knowing better than to test Caster's temper when he became obsessed with his medicine. As for Rider, that man was out gathering intel about the current power structure in Orario.
"What do you intend to do with them?" Archer asked while using his superhuman strength to lift all the weight off Caster's shoulders.
Honestly?
"Sell them." Caster was not a liar. "A Doctor treats their patients, but there's still a consultation and treatment fee."
Archer blinked. "How did Jason put up with you?"
"I put up with him. You're the one who was his best friend."
The two fell into silence as Archer tried to mount a defence on his absent friend's behalf.
"He means well." Archer said at a loss.
Caster could not deny it though.
"He's an idiot…but fine. He was still our captain. Now shut up and help."
Archer nodded, and the two left while reminiscing of the past.
Unable to carry their 'loot' in spiritual form, they made no attempts at concealing themselves. Caster was all for it. Can't start a business without showing a product after all. The due did not fail to draw numerous eyes when they eventually left the Dungeon.
Unbeknownst to Caster and Archer, the Dungeon began to stir.
Where there was an action, there was always a consequence.
/-/
The Dungeon hated the Gods, and like an annoying mosquito, it was sure it felt their presence within it.
A black shadow of a monster gradually spawned from the walls of the deep depths to investigate, more than willing to travel to the higher floors if need be.
/-/
Seated in the pub area of an inn known as the Goddess of Fertility, a woman with delicate features was pleading with a friend for a favour across from her.
They made quite a pair, both women, and with distinct characteristics that easily separated them from a crowd. One woman had hair of the deepest blue while the other had a distinct set of pupils, mirror-like and reflective. Both women were dressed modestly, one in a soft modernized green toga and sandals, and the other in similar attire but older and in a traditional white.
A noble air surrounded the women, broken only by the woman with blue-hair-and-green-toga's clasped hands and desperate expression. The other woman was exasperated.
Many eyes were drawn to them.
Their faces, body proportions, and voices attracted much attention, yet none approached the two lightly. Each was a leader of a Familia, marking them as Gods. No matter how childish one of the women was acting at this moment, it didn't affect the stability of her station in any way. In fact, others in the Goddess of Fertility had seen worse when Loki's own Familia literally attacked her for being a perv.
Still a God though, and that's what mattered.
On the back of the woman in white's hand, the mark of a pitcher pouring water and creating a rainbow could be seen. She was the Goddess of the veil, mist, and rainbow, Iris.
Iris had her hair up in a bun, and a pair of wired glasses gave her the sharp expression of a stern woman. Her flat stare did little to dissuade her friend. The woman with blue hair, the sea Goddess Thetis.
"Why am I here?" Iris murmured, cradling her head. Her reflective eyes seemed to dull in her sheer exasperation.
The question was rhetorical. Iris knew how she'd ended up in Orario again after all the time passed.
"Iris, focus!" Thetis collapsed her friend's hands into her own. "If anyone can help me it's you!"
"You already dragged me all the way here. Do you think I can disagree after coming this far?"
"…Ugh, I'm sorry?"
Iris felt her brow twitch before she shook her head, crossed her arms, and then assessed her friend's condition. "Where's your Familia? Don't you know it's dangerous to travel on your own? Gods or not, we're too weakened in the lower world."
"They're here, just not 'here,' here." Thetis admitted, growing sheepish like a child caught doing something naughty. "I have them at a nearby lodge, so it's fine. I-I just can't look Peleus in the face for too long lately, and I feel bad because he did nothing wrong."
"So, you ran away and settled for me." Iris deadpanned.
Thetis innocently nodded, beaming.
Iris 'innocently' popped a vein, gnashing her teeth before reeling her temper in, resisting the urge to strangle.
"You're lucky we're friends," Iris hissed before focusing on more relevant matters. "What's so interesting about Orario though? We shouldn't be here. We were close associates with Zeus and Hera Familia, but things aren't the same without them in power. It could be dangerous with past rivals now ruling the city, so hurry and get to the point."
"This may sound weird, but did you get any visions lately?" Thetis grew serious, her pensiveness accentuated by pursed lips.
"No." Iris shook her head before clueing in on recent events. "But I have noticed that other Gods have been acting strange lately…including you. Only Artemis and a couple others are acting normal. Apollo's-"
"Fuck Apollo." Thetis blurted; gentle eyes suddenly murderous. "I'll wring his neck if he dares show himself in front of me!"
Someone choked in the background at Thetis's outburst, but the two Gods paid little mind, too focused on each other.
"There, that!" Iris readjusted her glasses over the bridge of her nose, her legs crossing into a dominant pose while jutting a finger at Thetis's forehead. "You and Apollo have no grudges, and now you suddenly loathe him! Can't you see that's wrong?"
Thetis's emotions burst like a bubble, her indignation and hatred deflating.
"I, ugh, I don't know, okay?" Thetis cupped her face with her hands, and then ran her fingers through her hair in confusion. "It only lasted for a moment but I had a vision that I had a kid with Peleus- ("Is that why you can't look at him?)- and by the end of it, Apollo cheated and murdered my baby. I think I'm going crazy because it makes no sense. Mortals can't have children with Gods. I've- They've tried. All failed."
Iris digested the information, the mystery invigorating her detective spirit. She was Iris, a self-proclaimed genius detective. Nothing escapes the veil of her eyes.
"Is that what's happening?" Iris mused, linking the dots. "You all think you have imaginary kids? We're Gods. Can you not tell the difference between dreams and reality? And why didn't I see anything? Ah? Perhaps as the God of the mist and veils between mortals and the Divine, my protections naturally shield me."
Before Iris could dive into a tangent, Thetis grew annoyed.
"Iris, I'm not stupid." Thetis hissed. "It felt real. That's why I dragged you to Orario. The origin of the vision lies here somewhere."
"So that's why so many Gods are flocking here!" It was like a lightbulb lit atop Iris's head. She refocused on Thetis. "You want me to divine something from the vision?"
Finally, Thetis felt like she was getting somewhere.
"Yes! We're in sealed forms in the Lower World, but our basic authorities aren't gone, just weakened." Thetis emphasized her point by conjuring a ball of water over her left palm and then thrusting it in front of Iris's face. "You can peer into links between Gods and mortals. I need your eyes to help sort this out!"
Iris grunted and tactfully pushed the hand away.
Thetis chuckled awkwardly, dismissed the water, and then went back to pleading.
"Please?! It may exhaust your divine power a bit, but you can rest it off."
By exhaust, you mean bedridden?
"Your concern for my well being, warms me." Iris said sarcastically. "But, fine." If only because she had grown curious.
"Thank you! I owe you one." Thetis wilted in relief.
"Enough to talk this misunderstanding out with Apollo?" Iris joked. A vision was a vision, some without a basis could even be the work of a trickster God to sow discord.
"Never." Thetis wasn't laughing. "Now get this over with."
"Lean back a bit." Iris pushed Thetis away by the shoulders. Thetis was leaning in towards Iris's personal space in her eagerness. "You're too close."
Mollified that she was going to get her way, Thetis did as was instructed and then let Iris do her thing.
Extending her right hand towards Thetis's head, a white glow shone from Iris's palm as she began her divining.
Sadly, the process was immediately disrupted.
A commotion was kicked up at the entrance of the Goddess of Fertility when its front doors opened and two men walked in. They were none other than Archer and Caster, both pulling on a make-shift blanket that had a pile of bodies on top for easier transportation. If one looked closer, they'd see a large metal snake beneath the blanket and pushing it along.
"Rider." Archer called out into the Goddess of Fertility. "We're returning."
Rider?
Odd choice for a name.
Thetis hummed, her back still facing the entrance of the inn and not seeing what everyone else was seeing. Rather, she noted the direction the voice was aimed at, and focused there, curiosity getting the better of her.
She turned to look at this 'Rider' in question, and then promptly froze much to her friend's surprise.
"Thetis?" Iris called.
No answer.
Thetis continued to focus on the hooded man whose movements were awkwardly stiff under Thetis's gaze now that his allies had singled him out from the crowd.
Meanwhile, Iris took in the appearance of all three men.
Divine Perception. All Gods had it, and Iris was no stranger to using it.
All three men reeked of Divine, but oddly not enough to be a God.
Still, Iris couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity from their aura. One felt like Thetis, while the others felt of static and sunlight. It was hard to say.
Gods could naturally obscure each other's Divine Perception. Iris could only verify if she got in direct contact somehow.
More than anything, it was Iris's turn to freeze, but for a different reason than Thetis as she recognized a few faces Caster and Archer were lugging with them.
Iris stared gawking at Zeus, Hera, and even Astraea Familia among the body pile, perhaps that's why she felt that familiar divinity?
No, more importantly…
D-Do the dead yet live?!
Iris's pupils dilated as she, like many others, took note that the unconscious bodies were breathing.
One of the waitresses was suddenly hyperventilating, but no one could really blame her.
"Seems like you came from a party." Feeling the awkwardness, Rider made his way to Archer and Caster, under the rapt attention of all. "Who are they?"
"Got them from the Dungeon." Archer said nonplussed despite the gravity of the words to everyone else. "They're apparently Caster's promotional material, and the start of his medical business model."
Caster was never one for idle words and got right to the point by staring Rider down. "We need your chariot."
It wasn't noticeable until now, but the entire pub was dead silent other than the sound of Caster, Rider, and Archer's voices.
Plates and cups suddenly shattered as the hyperventilating waitress suddenly lost strength in her arms and suffered an anxiety attack. She was still staring at the people Caster and Archer had brought from the Dungeon and were now busy loading into a gilded chariot like sacks of potatoes.
The waitress, so overcome with emotion, didn't even question how the chariot pulled by three horses suddenly appeared outside the entrance of the Goddess of Fertility in her daze.
Others did.
Thetis stared at those horses.
Xanthos, Balios, Pedasus-!
Thetis recognized those horses just as much as Iris whose spouse owned two of them. Different from Iris, Thetis recalled a vision of herself swindling Iris to persuade her husband, Zephryus, to give the horses to her dearest boy.
Of course, that never happened here, and could only be interpreted now in one other way.
"Thief! Horse thief!" Iris cried out on her husband's behalf, indignant.
Snapped out of their daze from Iris's shouting, the occupants of the Goddess of Fertility were roused back into sanity.
Then, the waitress and everyone registered that the group of men were leaving.
Like, right now.
"W-Wait!"
The waitress anxiously came running before anyone else, but nothing was left in wake of the chariot that sped off faster than the eye could blink.
-Nothing except for a folded paper that looked suspiciously like a business card.
/-/
A young adventurer of the Hestia Familia named Bell Cranel wandered the streets of Orario while lost in thought. He'd just left the abandoned church he and Hestia were living in after the Hephaestus Familia kindly 'kicked' Hestia out of freeloading.
She was a God, and Gods don't free load, well at least that was part of the excuse.
Hestia and Hephaestus were still friends though. Hephy just gave Hesty the kick she needed to motivate her.
Truly the intention was good, and Bell didn't doubt that because Hestia's subsequent actions led Bell to join Hestia's Familia when no one else would take him.
Presently Hestia was out working somewhere to make ends meet, and Bell figured he could do his part to contribute. He'd feel too ashamed otherwise.
Dungeon diving would be the most lucrative, and Bell's go-to as he dreamed of being a strong Adventurer.
However, Bell couldn't enter the dungeon in good faith without possessing a Falna before; he was stopped at the Guild by the nice secretary lady. Now it was different.
With the crest of Hestia on his back, he would surely be granted entry into the Dungeon's upper floors.
Of course, Bell had never planned on bumping into anyone on the way, but became immediately flustered when it happened.
He wasn't paying attention to what was in front of him, his mind focused elsewhere.
The slightly older man that Bell collided with was no different except the man was carrying far too many groceries to be normal. Bags of bread, meat, vegetables, and seasonings were piled so high that the went beyond eye level when held with both hands. It was a miracle the man hadn't bumped into anyone until now, but it was largely attributed to others being mindful, and the man's own balance.
That luck had run out.
Groceries spilled everywhere, apples rolling from one bag, and something eerily sounding like eggs, cracking in another.
"Sorry!" Bell panicked in a fluster, moving to help pick up the dropped bags and rolling fruits.
"It's not a problem." The man brushed himself off before moving to pick up the things he'd dropped. "I don't think either of us were paying much attention anyway, and I was the one carrying too much."
The man offered an olive branch to ease the awkwardness.
Bell readily accepted the gesture until all the groceries were gathered.
Observing the man in front of him, Bell noted the man was a full head taller than him with a robust build and warm bronze-coloured eyes. From his attire, travel worn with bits and dirt and grime clinging to the sides of a leather bracer, white tunic, and cotton trousers, it was easy to make a distinction.
"You're new to Orario?" Bell asked, recalling his own journey to the Dungeon city.
The man did not deny it.
"First time here. I come from further out." He said, shrugging before his gaze focused on the tower of Babel at the center of the city. "But honestly, I came to Orario for the Dungeon."
"Same!" Bell was delighted to meet a fellow in similar straits. "You're an Adventurer?"
"Something like that," the man muttered, adjusting the groceries in his hands. "If you're asking if I can handle myself in a fight though, then certainly. The name's Shirou. Nice to meet you."
"Bell," Bell greeted, glad there was no awkward phase. It always happened to him when meeting strangers, but not this time-
The grocery bags Shirou was carrying screamed with a tearing sound, the paper bags soon spilling their contents out, and leaving Shirou without enough limbs to carry everything.
Bell froze, staring as apples and fruits once more rolled out into a mess.
They stared at each other in silence.
"Well, there goes the bag," Shirou sighed. It was always him with the bad luck.
"Sorry!" Bell apologized, realizing what must have weakened the bags in the first place. "It's because I bumped into you, isn't it?"
"Like I said, it's fine." Shirou insisted, trying to think of a way to carry everything. "I was just taking these back to camp anyway."
Feeling responsible, Bell silently began to pick up the groceries and help carry them towards Shirou's destination, earning a look of appreciation.
"Camp?" Bell suddenly paused. "You don't have a place to live?"
"First time here, and money doesn't grow on trees." Shirou admitted.
Bell knew the feeling all too well.
Actually, he felt kind of guilty as he and Hestia lodged in an abandoned church for free so he had no room to talk- Well, actually the church was quite large.
Moreover, Bell couldn't spot any Falna on Shirou. Coupled with the information that it was Shirou's first time in Orario, and that he was interested in the Dungeon, Bell was sure he wasn't part of a Familia yet.
With Bell being the only other member of the Hestia Familia, this could be a chance to help his poor Goddess and a stranger down on his luck! It was Bell's turn to be the Hestia that offered a helping hand.
"If you'd like, a friend and I are living in an abandoned church. It's large enough, so you're more than welcome to stay with us!" Bell offered spiritedly.
Shirou raised a brow. "It's more than just me. I have a party of seven others."
Bell fell silent but did the math, and the church was still big enough to accommodate. Feeding them all was another matter, but he was sure that they had enough to buy food considering Shirou was grocery shopping.
"Not a problem," Bell finished his mental gymnastics.
Now it would be all up to Hestia to show her charm and recruit new members.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone