I was in agony.
I was so happy.
Pain and pleasure had lost all meaning.
One chased the other in a cycle that repeated a dozen times before the first sensation had even registered.
I danced through the battlefield like death made manifest.
Wherever my hands reached, life ended.
My opponents resisted fiercely.
It was not enough.
The mandibles of a Killer Ant cut off my leg—only for it to regrow when I swatted a Needle Rabbit out of the air.
My bare foot lashed out and crushed the ant's skull.
Poison Mist burned the flesh from my face, leaving me blind—until I leapt upward and slapped the moth into the ceiling.
One after another, the swarm fell before the might of my Blessing.
As their numbers dwindled, my power grew.
My stamina was inexhaustible.
No injury slowed my advance, no matter how severe.
When the battle ended, and all that surrounded me was the smell of blood and the sound of my own labored breath, I did not rejoice.
I wanted more.
Standing still was impossible.
I paced in a circle, staring down at my own shaking hands as if they belonged to another.
The aftereffects of Morsalis crashed into me like never before.
Every part of my being protested the fading pleasure.
My heartbeat quickened—then thundered in my ears.
My breathing grew frantic.
I wanted more.
I closed my eyes and bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood. A deep groan echoed through the tunnel as I fell to the floor and pushed my back against the wall.
I drew my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I fought desperately to regain control.
I would not be made a slave to my impulses.
My Blessing was a tool—the pleasure it gave me a mere side effect. It could never become the reason why I killed.
Heroes did not kill for pleasure.
I measured the passage of time by the rhythm of my breathing—an exercise I had learned in my youth to steady my mind.
"Would you look at that? The solo is still alive!" A rumbling voice cut through the silence.
"Color me surprised," another added. "Must have been quite the battle."
"My bets on a magic sword."
I opened my eyes and glanced at the familiar party of adventurers.
They were leering down at me.
"It's you," I whispered. "What do you want?"
"There aren't as many magic stones as there should be." The dwarf ran his fingers through his thick brown beard as he studied the floor. "He must've used the last of his energy to collect them before collapsing."
The brutish-looking human laughed.
"I wouldn't be surprised."
His expression hardened as he glared at me.
"Rookies… they never know how to prioritize."
I met his gaze silently.
"Curious how I know you're a rookie?" he asked.
They expected me to die…
That must mean they had done this before.
"It's that bag you're carrying." A wide grin split his face. "It's from the guilds' newbie collection, isn't it? Enchanted with a spatial enlargement spell."
The blonde cat demi-human shook his head. "Your eyes are as sharp as ever, Yorun." His lips curved into a smile. "Today hasn't been a waste after all. Just look at the size of that thing!"
"He must've been filling it for days." The dwarf chuckled. "Cash it in all at once to impress those guild beauties."
The human clicked his tongue.
"Rookies will be rookies."
My eyes narrowed.
"You tried to kill me."
The dwarf sighed.
"Didn't I tell you, kid? It was nothing personal." He rubbed his thumb against his index finger. "The Dungeon forces all of us to make tough decisions sometimes. You understand, don't—"
"Enough chatter." The human cut in. "Today's been a bust. Let's salvage what we can and leave." He pointed his axe at me. "Give us the bag."
I tilted my head to the side.
"What if I don't?"
The man snorted. "You really are a newbie." The humor faded from his voice. "If you don't comply… we'll kill you."
"I see."
My heartbeat quickened as I suppressed a smile.
I straightened upward and rose to my full height.
"In that case..." I unfastened the bag from my hip and extended it toward him. "Take it."
"Good boy." The man grinned as he sauntered forward. "Finally… A Rookie who knows his place."
He reached out to grab the bag, glancing back over his shoulder. "How about we skip the Hostess tonight and go straight to Ishta—"
The corners of my mouth lifted as I let the bag fall—and clasped his hand into mine.
Our skin touched.
He died.
—————
Loran's eyes bulged as he stared at the motionless body on the floor.
What… what is this?
"Yorun?" Sora's voice was hesitant. "What are you doing down there? Get up!"
Koru placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, his gaze fixed on the young man before them.
"What did you do to our leader?"
Something is wrong.
Loran stumbled backward. The rookie's trembling figure seemed to grow taller—more monstrous—in his vision as the sound of heavy breathing echoed through the tunnel.
He killed Yorun.
Koru stepped forward. "I will not ask again!" he shouted, raising his dagger. "What did you do to him?"
A low chuckle rang out from the youth.
"Come and find out."
He spread his arms wide, a mocking glint in his darkening eyes.
"You'll regret this" the cat-man hissed as he rushed forward, his brother following closely behind.
"No! Don't!"
Loran reached out to stop his comrades.
Too late.
They plunged their daggers into either side of their foe's torso.
"Die, you bastard!" Sora cried out as he twisted the blade.
Loran gulped loudly as the rookie's eyes closed, his arms dropping to the side.
Koru shook his head with a derisive snort
"I can't believe a weakling like th—"
"Just kidding."
The human's eyes snapped open and a joyful laugh tore from his throat. His hands blurred, closing around the demi-humans' wrists.
They dropped like puppets with their strings cut.
Loran froze.
I can't move.
The monster's gleaming amber eyes locked onto his own.
The dwarf's knees buckled, and he nearly fell.
Eyes like that did not belong to a human.
"Monster," he breathed, his legs shaking.
Light steps sounded through the tunnel as the man skipped toward him.
"That's pretty rude, don't you think?"
A bright smile lit up the murderer's face as he rested a hand on Loran's broad shoulder.
A cold thumb brushed against his throat.
"Tell me about yourself."
Loran gritted his jaw.
"Why?"
His gaze dropped to his dead comrades.
"If you want to kill me, just do it!"
The human chuckled.
"You know… I'm feeling pretty good right now."
The grip on his shoulder tightened.
"And I do want to kill you. I really, really do."
His smile dimmed.
"And yet, something is telling me not to."
Blood trickled from the corner of the man's mouth.
"I want more—but can't. I want more! But I shouldn't!"
He's insane.
Heavy drops of sweat dripped from Loran's chin.
"What do you want to know?" he asked slowly.
The human shuddered out a breath and shook his head, his cloudy eyes clearing slightly.
"Why shouldn't I kill you?"
Fuck this damn Dungeon.
I should've never come here.
Loran shivered. "I…" He wet his lips. "I just did what I had to do… We're adventurers. I'm not a bad guy!"
His eyes flickered to the side.
There was no escape.
"Everything I've done, I only did to protect and serve my Familia."
The human's eyes widened, his pupils dilating until they were almost black.
Loran swallowed.
"You understand that, don't you?"
The man hummed slowly as he studied him.
"My name is Cain," he said. "Captain of the Hestia Familia."
What?
The dwarf blinked.
The hand gripping his shoulder slid upward, brushing against his cheek.
"And you're right… I do understand." His lips curved. "Maybe you do deserve to live."
Loran released a deep breath.
Thank the gods that worked.
"Which is why I'll probably regret this later."
A second hand lashed out and lifted him up into the air by the throat.
The dwarf's legs kicked wildly as tears welled up in his brown eyes.
I don't want to die.
I don't want to die!
"Looks like they were right about me after all." The murderer whispered wistfully, his fingers sinking deeper into Loran's throat.
The image of a beautiful blonde elf waitress formed in his mind.
I wish I could've seen her—
—————
Hestia fiddled with the hem of her dress as she peeked at her child from the corner of her eye.
Cain's amber eyes were fixed on the spotlessly clean hands resting on his lap.
He had not said a word since he returned home—sooner than usual, though still well after sunset.
The first thing he did when he entered their basement was clean off his filthy armour, then spend an inordinate amount of time washing his hands.
Afterwards, he sat down on the couch.
Neither then, nor in the silent minutes since had he acknowledged her presence on the bed.
Not even once.
Hestia wanted to scream.
As she had seen so many mortal women do in the millennia since she first took interest in the lower world, she had decided to give her Familia Captain the silent treatment.
He deserved it for the way he treated her the day before.
How dare he answer her love confession with a 'thank you'!
She gritted her teeth.
That jerk was lucky she wasn't a more vengeful goddess.
Good luck trying a stunt like that with Ishtar—or Freya!
She shot her child another burning glance.
He was still staring at his hands, as if they held the answers to all of Gekai's questions.
Her shoulders dropped.
He hates me.
There was no other explanation.
She should have known better.
She did know better.
Mortals were not like them—they did not love the way gods did.
It sometimes took humans years to develop feelings for each other—and even then, those emotions were only a fraction of the intensity her kind experienced.
She chewed on her bottom lip as she shifted on the white sheets.
He must think I'm some easy woman who falls for any man who shows her a hint of—
"Hestia."
Her head whipped to the side as Cain's low voice sounded from the couch.
The young man met her gaze with distant eyes—an expression she had never seen on his face before.
"Yes?" she asked, turning fully toward him.
"I'm sorry."
He smiled, though there was no warmth in it.
The goddess tilted her head.
So the silent treatment did—
"I'm not the man you think I am," he continued. "There are things I've been keeping from you."
Her thoughts ground to a halt.
"What do you mean? I know who you are!"
Cain averted his eyes and sank back into the couch.
"There's more to how I ended up in this world than I told you."
A bright smile spread across her face.
Finally! I've been waiting—
"I was publicly tried, found guilty, and then burned to death. Next thing I knew, I woke up here."
Hestia's expression collapsed.
What?
"Officially, they did it because I used my Blessing to kill someone."
His gaze snapped back to her.
"He was a criminal! It was self-defense."
He… was executed?
"In truth, the real reason why I had to die was my Blessing." His hands clenched. "They said it was a power too evil for them to accept… that I was too evil for them to accept."
Hestia sprang to her feet.
"Don't say that!"
She resisted the impulse to pull him into her embrace.
Following those impulses had not worked well for her the day before.
"You are not evil!" she shouted, sitting back down. "You—"
"I killed four people today, Hestia."
The words died in her throat.
"An entire party."
She blinked.
He wasn't lying.
"Why?"
The child whose soul she had claimed and touched so many times would never murder anyone without a good reason.
"They Pass Paraded me—then tried to steal my magic stones."
Hestia released a relieved breath.
"Then it's good they're dead," she said, crossing her arms. "That's attempted murder and theft. You did well to defend yourself."
She stifled the wrath stirring within her.
They were already dead. There was nothing she could do.
Not only were the dead not part of her domain, but she had accepted that descending meant forsaking her divine prerogatives.
"You don't understand." He shook his head. "I killed them with Morsalis."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Cain… They were criminals. In the eyes of the gods and the laws of Orarios, you did—"
"I don't care about the law!" he shouted, gripping his knees. "And I definitely don't care about the gods."
The goddess flinched back.
He had told the truth.
The anger drained from his features as quickly as it came.
"I'm sorry… It's just—" His shoulders slumped. "I messed up, Hestia."
I don't understand.
"I tried to be like the heroes you told me about," he whispered, his expression hollowing. "I couldn't do it. They were right about me."
"Stop saying that already!" She stamped her foot. "Just tell me what happened."
She glared at him with burning eyes.
"I am your goddess! And I won't let you keep talking like this."
Cain's eyes widened as they met hers.
"You said a hero is someone who spreads hope with their presence," he said. "Someone who inspires people with their words and actions."
His gaze dropped.
"The way that dwarf looked at me when he died… I've never seen anyone so afraid."
Hestia's grip on the sheets loosened as she strode forward and sat down next to her child.
"Do you remember your answer when I asked why you became an adventurer?"
She took both of his hands into hers.
"I said…" he began, his fingers tightening around hers. "That I want to use my power for good."
"Why?"
"To prove that I can be good."
He hesitated.
"To prove them wrong."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Then why give up now?"
He frowned.
"Because I failed."
"Is that what Tiara of the Isis Familia would say?" She arched a brow. "Is that what the boy you saved from a painful and lonely death would say?"
"I killed people—"
"Criminals," she cut him off. "Who tried to kill you first."
He averted his eyes from her, still unconvinced.
She sighed quietly and squeezed his hand.
"There's one more quality heroes I failed to mention. The most important of all."
Her voice hardened as he looked back at her again.
"They try harder than anyone else. And they never give up. No matter what."
Her lips formed into an upturned crescent as she pulled his hand closer to her chest.
"Even if you stumble along the way, I will always be there to help you get up."
Her heartbeat thrummed softly beneath his palm.
"Because I am your family."
His breath caught as the amber of his eyes faded beneath his widening pupils.
For the first time since he returned home, a genuine smile spread across her child's face.