Bell kept both Astraea and Hestia back, his gaze fixed on Loki.
"Say Loki, if we go by those rules... I can wish for you to send your Ais over after I win. You won't hold it against , right?"
Hestia stopped flailing in his arm. Astraea no longer pushed to rise from her position.
Loki's smirk stiffened, then faded altogether. She planted her hands to her hips and leaned forward, trying to look threatening.
"Don't you dare, kid. Ais-tan is mine. And that's non-negotiable."
Hestia looked at Bell as he gently pushed her back down to sit.
"Bell, won't having the Sword Princess to accompany you every ti into the dungeon make your dives so much easier?"
"Shorty, don't even think about it!" Loki gnashed her teeth once again, looking ready to throw down right then and there.
"Hmph. Now, do you understand how it feels when soone tries to take your beloved children away from you?" Hestia tilted her chin up by a fraction, feeling quite satisfied by giving Loki a taste of her own dicine.
"So... you agree that Bell is your beloved child?" Loki didn't retort, instead she looked at Hestia with furrowed brows.
"Who else could it be but him?" Hestia puffed her chest up and patted it proudly.
Loki's furrowed brows smoothed out as if they had never been there. Her lips tugged upward, and a wide smirk split her face.
"Oh... But isn't Bell the child of Astraea? Or is it because of this kid's unusual Falna?"
Loki's question petrified Hestia in place, her hands instinctively flying to cover her mouth.
Then, Loki swept her gaze over Bell and Astraea. Bell's arm had been resting near Hestia even before she spoke; if he'd wanted to, he could have stopped her from answering, but he hadn't.
"Bell, Astraea...I—" Hestia turned toward them, her eyes shaking and turning glassy.
Astraea reached up to rub her temples, letting out a heavy sigh. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
"Don't bla yourself, Goddess. They already knew. Look, only so of them look surprised." Bell placed a palm on her shoulder, rubbing it gently, while his other hand gestured toward the surrounding gods.
Indeed. Freya's expression remained the sa, no constricted eyes, no open jaw.
Hephaestus was rubbing her head while looking at Hestia with sheer exasperation. You haven't changed Hestia. Not one bit.
Hers still had a constipated expression, even after hearing the whole exchange. Can we get this done, quickly? I don't want to be here.
"Huh!?" Hestia swept her gaze across the hall, blinking rapidly as she took in the unsurprised reactions of even more gods.
"Since when...?" She asked, her shock quickly morphing into confusion.
"My armor was destroyed during my fight with Ares, everyone watching should have gotten a clear look at my Falna." Bell explained, knowing she hadn't been present at that ti.
Before Hestia could react, Loki seized the opening.
"A golden wheel. Twin scales, and... flas within them, like two hearths." She traced a circle in the air with her finger.
"Anyone with half a brain could put two and two together from there. Astraea and this kid stay together most of the ti, but you, Hestia, are always with them, like a third wheel."
Hestia opened her mouth to retort, but closed it.
"In fact, you act more like his Goddess than Astraea herself, calling him 'My Bell, My Bell.'" Loki paused to wet her throat before continuing.
"A Falna that bears parts of Astraea's scales alongside hearths... and that wheel which hovered above him during the war."
Loki walked closer and sat beside Hestia on the stair, looking sideways at Bell.
"Tell , kid... how does it feel to have two Falnas?"
Silence.
A god who had no prior knowledge of such a thing choked on his drink, spewing water all over his neighbor's face. Another god slapped his friend's cheek, making sure he had heard correctly.
"Quite fine, actually. Would've been even better if you hadn't broadcast it to all of Orario." Bell said, his voice dry.
"Co on. It would've reached everyone sooner or later. Besides, if these gods annoy you too much, you can just add my Falna and make it three. Then you'll be part of my Familia, too. Let see who calls for your execution then." Loki swept her gaze around, a devious glint in her eyes.
Many gods had the exact sa thought:
Bell Cranel = nace.
Bell Cranel Loki = Save us all!
"Forget what this trickster says. Join mine if you want to join soone, Bell. I promise to protect you from everyone." Freya interjected, desperate to remind Bell of her presence.
Bell didn't even acknowledge her. Your Falna? isn't my little Freya a hundred tis better than you woman?
"Forget it. I won't have another Falna. Two are enough." He told Loki, and got up from his stair, stretching his shoulders.
Then, he glanced down at Hestia and Astraea. "Shall we?"
Astraea and Hestia exchanged glances and rose to their feet.
Bell moved, an easy smile still lingering on his face for Hestia's sake. But the mont he turned his back to those gods, his shoulders dropped. Any warmth in his eyes cooled, fading into emptiness.
"What about discussing more about that Grand War Ga?" Loki called after him.
Bell was already walking toward the Denatus exit alongside both of his Goddesses.
"You guys can handle that. I have no experience in setting up sothing like this, just tell when it takes place, in a week or two. I just gave the idea, execution is on you all."
Countless eyes tracked his exit, colored by myriad emotions. When all was said and done, their reaction to him was multifaceted—a volatile mix of terror, intrigue, and want.
Bell's footsteps stopped.
"Oh, yeah."
He pivoted on his heel. The easygoing air around him had shifted. Its place taken by sothing much more grave.
His gaze skipped over one god after another, finally landing on Ishtar.
He raised a closed fist, then opened it. Hovering above his palm was a miniature spear forged of flas—the exact sa shape and fire he had used when threatening her for a grimoire.
Ishtar felt her breath hitch. Tremors raced from her crown down to her toes, and for a fleeting mont, white flashed at the edges of her vision.
It—It w—was actually you!!
Bell shifted his attention, locking eyes with two more gods.
Hers.
Dionysus.
In his mind, a ledger opened. At the very top was a single na, Ares. That na was already burning away, nothing left of it but ash.
Beneath it, others waited. Ouranos. Hers. Ishtar.
Further down, nas that were going to cast long, creeping shadows over Orario and the people he loved.
Dionysus. Revis. Olivas. Dix.
Those Evilus executives like Jura. Those monsters deep within the Dungeon like Titan Alm.
And at the bottom of it all, looming beneath everything like a black sun...
The One-Eyed Black Dragon.
So many nas. So many bodies he would have to bury to keep his family safe.
I have to start burning these nas, before they start to burn us.
Bell turned away and resud his walk.
"Oh, hey kid. About that alias thing we do in the Denatus... What do you want us to give you?"
He paused, his back still turned to all of them.
"Give ..."
Bell rolled his shoulder. His joint popped, a dull, heavy sound swallowed by the quiet surrounding him. Ash from shattered stairs still clung to his palms—pale, monochro, refusing to flake away.
In his eyes, the world was still grey. It always lingered after deactivating his skill. Even with his healing, it always clung to him like dust and bone that refused to let go for a ti.
A Spartan doesn't fall with Sparta. He stalks the living as its ghost.
Those nas in his ledger flashed through his thoughts. Gods. Monsters. A list of enemies that would only grow longer. To burn them into ash, he couldn't just be a warrior. He had to be sothing that didn't bleed. Sothing that didn't stop.
A ghost.
His footsteps resud. The last embers between his fingers hissed out, cooling into nothing.
"...Ghost of Sparta."
Reaction didn't co all at once.
They rippled outward from where Bell had stood, like a stone dropped in quiet water, the disturbance spreading out in waves.
Loki's mouth opened, then closed. Her smirk had been stripped away, replaced by sothing rare on her face—stillness. She stared at his back, at so ash dusting it, and for the first ti in a very long while, she had nothing clever to say.
Ghost of Sparta.
Freya's fingers, which had been tracing her own cheek, stopped. Her violet eyes narrowed.
Ghost. Not a warrior. Neither a hero. A ghost. Sothing that has already died and yet keeps walking.
Her lips parted slightly. A breath released from them unconsciously.
"Ah..." She moaned, too quiet for anyone to hear.
Hers had gone very rigid. The constipated discomfort from earlier had vanished, replaced by sheer terror. He kept his expression calm, yet only he knew how rattled he was inside.
Sparta. An ancient city built by Ares when he ca down thousands of years ago. Sothing that was all ruin of dust and ash now.
He's telling us. Hers realized. If we push him too much, he'll beco a ghost and send us all back like Ares.
Ishtar was trembling like a leaf. Not from that fla spear anymore, but at the na itself. Ghost.
He had co like a ghost. Dismantled her whole Familia like a phantom. Terrified her like a spectre that always had a blade around her neck.
She had thought he was a strong adventurer from sowhere outside of Orario. She had thought that she could get back at him with enough preparations.
Now she understood. She had dug her own grave.
So gods, those who had never experienced war, never felt how it feels to kill thousands with your own hands, exchanged confused glances. The na sounded dramatic. Cool, even. Like sothing out of a hero's tale.
But the gods who had gone through war said nothing.
They recognized what others didn't.
That wasn't a title born from pride.
It was a reminder.
He had already killed thousands of humans and had their ash on his hands.
A thousand more gods... would make no difference.
...
Toward the exit, Hestia hurried after Bell, her small legs working double-ti to match his stride.
"Bell, wait—what was that? Ghost of... what's a Sparta?"
Bell didn't slow.
Astraea walked beside him, her pace asured, her eyes on his face. She didn't ask what Sparta was. She didn't ask why he'd chosen that na.
She simply reached over and brushed a streak of ash from his shoulder.
It crumbled at her touch, falling away like dead skin.
But more remained beneath.
...
..
.
***
[300 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
[8 chapters ahead on P@tr3on = [email protected]/Not_Aaryan]
...
[Authors Thoughts]
Its starting to hit. The realisation of killing thousands of people with your own hands, even if enemies.
Life always finds a way to teach us what we refuse to understand. Bell did it to protect those close to him, to prevent more people from dying. Yet, it doesn't make it easy, and that's what makes him human.
I could've skipped this part entirely and show that killing thousands didn't effect him entirely, find another way to give this sa na or another one altogether, but...
Bell is like my friend. I want him to get lost, make mistakes, learn from them, and get back up. I don't know if anyone else will be there when his story closes, but I was there when his story began, and I'll be there when it ends... So, keep going Bell.
I'm with you. Always.
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