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Good evening everyone, here with a new chapter.
Here's a question. I'm making another danmachi fanfic, and so far I have enough content for about three chapters and counting. The question is: Would you be willing to read it?
It wouldn't interfere with the updates to this fanfic (since I'll be moving forward with it even if I don't publish it; it's my hobby).
Thanks to Rayx2108 and Comteqfr for being the beta readers and quality assurance supervisors of the chapter.
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The Denatus met again.
A large room filled with tiered benches, gods conversing, and an atmosphere more reminiscent of a coliseum than a supposedly serious assembly. In the center, a long table served as a place for the two sides to discuss: Hestia on one side and Apollo on the other.
Hestia stood with her arms crossed on the table, her expression rigid and her eyes fixed on her counterpart. Although she was one of the smaller goddesses in stature, she seemed more than capable of filling the space with sheer stubbornness. Across from her, Apollo settled into his seat as if he were in the middle of a private party. His confident smile never left his face, almost as if he were already enjoying a guaranteed victory.
In the stands, the other gods acted as an audience. They were supposed to be there as mediators, but in practice they were merely there for entertainment. Many murmured, others laughed, and some even began to openly place bets.
"Well, this looks promising," Hermes commented, leaning forward with his chin resting on his hand. "Let's see what kind of terms Apollo proposes."
"More than conditions, this feels like a circus," grumbled Takemikazuchi, although he was just as attentive as the others.
"Circus? This is the best thing that's happened in weeks!" Loki laughed from his spot, her elbow on the railing. "A war game for a single adventurer… it doesn't even take much thought. It's like throwing a puppy into a pack of wolves."
The laughter of some accompanied the comment.
And it was true. From the perspective of most, the situation was completely unbalanced. The large and organized Apollo Familia against the tiny Hestia Familia, which barely had a single real adventurer: Bell Cranel. For many gods, what they were about to witness was basically an execution with official rules. A morbid spectacle, but it was entertainment after all.
In the center of the room, Hestia couldn't take her eyes off Apollo. She glared at him, as if she were about to rise up and throw the table at him at any moment. He, of course, seemed to enjoy every second of her anger.
"Then, Hestia," Apollo finally said, breaking the silence with a melodious tone that sounded rehearsed. "Since you've accepted my war game proposal, all that remains is to define the terms."
The gods of the stands lowered their conversations. Some leaned forward, others smiled in anticipation. The "conditions" moment was always the most fun.
"Whatever you want," Hestia replied coldly. "Bell and I have nothing to hide. But don't think this will be as easy as you imagine."
Apollo raised an eyebrow, as if genuinely amused by this bravery. "Do you really think that kid can handle what's coming his way? The gap between our families is so vast that even thinking about it makes me feel sick."
"Well, don't think about it so much," Hestia replied in a cutting tone.
From the stands, the comments were not long in coming.
"That Bell boy… no matter how fast he grows, this is too much for him," said a god as he settled himself better.
Apollo leaned back elegantly in his seat, that confident smile seemingly permanently plastered on his face. He was enjoying every second, as if he'd already won.
"Very well, little Hestia," he said in an almost mocking tone, resting his elbow on the arm of his chair. "You've accepted my challenge. Now all that remains is to decide the format of the war game. What will you choose? A duel? An ambush? Or do you have something else in mind?"
The room filled with whispers. For most, it was a matter of course: with such a ridiculously small familia, Hestia was cornered from the start. The normal thing would have been to give up, or choose a format that would narrow the gap in numbers.
But Hestia didn't hesitate. She leaned forward, her elbows firmly on the table and her eyes fixed on Apollo's.
"A robbery."
The silence that followed was almost comical. Some gods let out a "what?", while others laughed openly, as if I'd just told a bad joke.
The laughter grew, and more than one god commented quietly. "This isn't bravery, it's suicide." "They won't even touch the wall." "I wonder if we should set up quick bets? It'll be a short show."
Apollo blinked, surprised for only a moment, before his smile returned, wider than ever. He looked delighted.
"How unexpected… I thought you'd ask to defend yourself; at least that would give you a slight chance of resisting. But attacking…" He placed a hand on his chin, exaggerating the thoughtful pose, before chuckling. "I accept it. It seems perfect to me. After all, there's no way a mere lad like Bell Cranel could break down the walls of my mansion, or break through my men."
He made a gesture with his hand, as if ending the discussion.
"Then it's settled: an assault. The Apollo Familia will defend, the Hestia Familia will attack. If they manage to enter and take control, it will be your victory. If not… well, you know what happens next."
The stands erupted in a constant murmur. No one took it seriously; everyone spoke as if the outcome was already written. For most, Hestia's choice only accelerated the inevitable: Bell Cranel would be crushed.
"Fine, if we're talking terms, I want everything you own. Your mansion, your riches, everything your familia has… And besides, if you lose, you'll be banished from Orario. I never want to see you in this city again."
The room fell silent for a moment, as if the gods had stopped breathing upon hearing such a demand. Then, a burst of laughter and comments filled the stands.
"How direct, little Hestia!" Hermes said, amused.
"Hahaha, she's not afraid to bet big," Loki added with a mocking smile.
Other gods leaned toward his companions, whispering about the folly of what he was asking.
Apollo, for his part, stood still for a second, surprised by the audacity. But then his smile returned, wider, almost satisfied. He adjusted his posture in the chair like a king who had just been given the perfect excuse to show magnanimous spirit.
"All I have, huh?" he repeated, as if savoring the phrase. "Very well. I accept your terms."
He raised a finger, signaling that he wasn't finished yet. His eyes, full of smugness, shone as he spoke what came next.
"And if I win… I'll keep Bell Cranel."
Laughter and murmurs immediately multiplied. Several gods sat up straighter in their seats, others whistled or applauded, as if they were watching a ridiculous but entertaining bet.
"You see? In the end, it all comes down to that kid," Dionisio said with a half smile.
"Poor thing. I feel sorry for him already, and he hasn't even started yet," added Takemikazuchi, more seriously than the others.
Blood rushed to Hestia's face. She bolted upright, frowning, and slammed the table again, this time hard.
"Don't talk about him like he's an object," he said in a deep tone that surprised more than one person. His voice echoed off the walls, cutting through the din for a moment. "Bell isn't a possession. Don't you dare treat him like that."
Apollo just bowed his head, as if he'd gained something from that reaction. The smile never left his face; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy the fury she displayed.
"Then I suppose we're agreed," he said aloud, addressing the other gods more than her. "If I win, Bell Cranel will be mine. If I lose… I'll leave Orario and hand over everything I own. Fair enough, don't you think?"
The murmurs continued, some celebrating Hestia's audacity, others already anticipating her familia's defeat. But she didn't retreat even a step.
"I accept," she declared firmly, her jaw clenched. Her eyes remained fixed on Apollo, ignoring the chorus of jeers around her. "And listen carefully, Apollo… Bell is going to crush you."
The phrase hung in the air, defying the logic everyone else assumed. To the gods in the stands, it sounded like pure wishful thinking, the desperate cry of someone without an army or resources. But in Hestia, there was no doubt, no fear. Only a fierce conviction.
Apollo leaned back in his chair elegantly, like someone receiving a long-awaited gift. He raised his glass and toasted, with that smile that never left his face.
"So be it."
The room erupted again with laughter, comments, and jokes, as the rules were sealed. For most, the outcome was already written from the start. But Hestia, her heart burning, knew the real game had only just begun.
And Freya was nowhere to be seen.
…
Fólkvangr, the Freya familia seat, vibrated with a different energy than usual. Under normal circumstances, the place was a chaotic mess of metal clashing against metal, violent arguments, and infighting—part of the strange way its members measured their strength. However, that afternoon, silence prevailed. Freya's adventurers weren't sizing each other up, but rather sharpening their weapons, adjusting their equipment, and waiting for orders, disciplined as if a war were about to break out.
Freya watched everything from the top of the stairs leading to the main hall, Ottar standing firmly at her side. Her gaze, as always, was gentle when she thought of a single name: Bell Cranel.
Her fingers rested on the handrail, her silver hair falling like a shimmering river in the lamplight. Her attention wasn't on the murmur of steel or the martial atmosphere, but on the stabbing sensation in her chest. She had discovered that Ishtar, her eternal rival (according to Ishtar herself, Freya couldn't care less), had gone a step beyond the usual petty games.
"You've gone too far, Ishtar." Freya's voice echoed in the hall, soft and melodious, but laden with cold determination.
Some of the familia members, who until then had been busy preparing their weapons, tensed upon hearing those words. It wasn't common for their goddess to speak out loud like that, much less in such a venomous tone.
Ottar tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew exactly what she meant.
"My lady, shall we act immediately?" he asked, his voice deep, like a drum resounding in the hall.
Freya didn't respond immediately. She descended a couple of steps, moving forward slowly as her eyes scanned each of her warriors, all expectant, all ready to fight to the death if she commanded. This blind obedience didn't fill her with pride; in fact, she felt indifferent to it. The only thing that mattered was him.
"Bell." He whispered the name as if caressing it with his lips. The tension in the room thickened.
She knew the war game against Apollo was a spectacle for others, morbid entertainment. But what Ishtar was planning was different. It wasn't part of the game, it wasn't a fair challenge. It was a base and cruel attempt to harm the boy whom the world itself seemed to have given her as an irreplaceable gift.
Ottar took a step forward, bowing his head slightly. "I'll give the order. The familia will be ready to march when I say so."
Freya closed her eyes for a moment, as if savoring that promise. Then she opened them, and a small, barely perceptible smile spread across her face. A smile that had nothing pious about it.
"Let them prepare, Ottar. If Ishtar thinks she can stand in my way, she'll find out what it means to defy me."
Behind Freya were three Amazons. At first glance, they didn't seem unusual at all: beautiful and dressed in the typical light clothing of their people. But their eyes were the most striking. Empty. They weren't focused on anything. Their lips occasionally moved as if muttering nonsense. They were under a spell, trapped in a gentle trance that kept them in that state of absolute docility.
Freya turned her head slightly toward them, like a queen assessing her trophies. A wider smile spread across her face. They weren't just any prey. They were Amazons from Ishtar's own familia.
And not only that. One of them, the one in the center, with her loose hair cascading down her back and a bearing that couldn't be hidden even under her charm, was Aisha Belka. The vice-captain of Ishtar's familia.
"An interesting piece, don't you think, Ottar?"
Ottar didn't respond. He just bowed his head in a gesture of respect. He knew his goddess wasn't speaking to him expecting answers, but rather to savor her own conclusions aloud.
Thanks to Aisha, Freya had unearthed more information than she could have ever hoped for. Not just minor plans or simple strategies, but the entire structure of what Ishtar was plotting against her. The names, the movements, the timing. Everything the goddess planned was now in Freya's hands.
And the most curious thing of all was the unexpected secret that came from the lips of the enchanted Amazon: Ishtar's master plan revolved not only around open combat, but also around the use of a special piece: a Renard girl.
Freya tilted her head, amused, almost fascinated.
"So Haruhime…hmm"
That name floated through the air like a whisper. A Renard with hidden power, bound as a tool in Ishtar's plans.
If Ishtar was thinking of using that girl as a secret card to gain ground in Orario and deprive her of what mattered most to her, she was more mistaken than she could imagine.
"Interesting… really interesting."
…
In the backyard of the Takemikazuchi familia headquarters, the sound of quick footsteps and the clash of wood resonated loudly. It was an impromptu training session, but no less serious for that.
Bell stood in the center, breathing rhythmically, while four figures surrounded him: Mikoto, Ouka, Chigusa, and Asuka. Each carried a practice weapon, launching themselves at him with surprising coordination, worthy of warriors who had trained together for years.
The problem was that Bell didn't seem to be fazed.
Mikoto slashed downward with her wooden sword. Bell twisted his torso slightly, letting the blow pass inches from his shoulder. Ouka came up behind him, looking to surprise him with a frontal attack, but Bell tilted his head and slid to the side, not even losing his balance.
"Tsch! He won't stay still for a second!" Ouka growled, backing away to return to the charge.
"Focus, Ouka, if we attack him separately we'll never hit the target," Mikoto replied seriously, though her frown revealed frustration.
Chigusa, using her bow, tried to block his path diagonally. "Bell-san!" she shouted, trying to sound firm, though her voice trembled slightly from the effort. Bell simply lowered his guard for a second, bending as if dancing, and the arrow flew over his head without grazing him.
Asuka, who had been trying to turn around, seized the moment to launch a direct blow to the side. For a moment, it looked like she might succeed. But Bell pivoted on his foot, gently caught her wrist, and knocked her back to the ground before she could react. He didn't hit her or knock her down hard. He just pinned her in one fluid motion and stepped aside.
"Almost, Asuka-san," Bell said, smiling.
She frowned, more annoyed with her own clumsiness than with him.
Sweat beaded on all four of their foreheads, yet Bell barely showed any fatigue. His breathing was calm, his movements clean, his gaze focused.
"This is absurd," Ouka growled, panting. "He dodges everything! I can't even graze him."
Mikoto gripped the handle of her wooden sword, looking at him with a mixture of respect and frustration. "It's like fighting a spirit. His movements… are too precise."
Bell raised his hands, conciliatory. "Sorry, I'm trying not to go too fast."
The reaction was unanimous: everyone gritted their teeth.
"You're not even fighting seriously!" Ouka jumped in.
Bell lowered his gaze, a little uncomfortable. He wasn't saying this to provoke them; he was actually holding back. Ever since the battle against Hyakinthos and the Apollo adventurers, he'd felt he needed to polish every one of his moves. And now, with the War Game approaching, he couldn't afford to get complacent.
"Seriously… thanks for this," he said, putting himself on guard again, albeit with a sincere expression. "I need to train against multiple opponents at the same time. I know Apollo won't play fair. If I can get used to reading multiple moves… maybe I can protect them all."
There was a brief silence. Mikoto, Ouka, Chigusa, and Asuka looked at each other, and although they were exhausted, they straightened their posture.
"Very well, Bell-dono," Mikoto declared, her voice firm. "Then we will not stop until we accomplish that goal."
"Yes!" the others responded in unison.
And immediately, the four of them pounced on him again.
After a while, the four adventurers from the Takemikazuchi familia were scattered on the training ground, sweaty and breathing heavily. Mikoto lay with her arms spread out, staring at the sky, while Ouka had a hand on his chest, trying to control his breathing. Chigusa and Asuka had slumped against the wall, panting but with tired smiles.
Bell, on the other hand, remained standing, his breathing barely a little ragged. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and a few marks from blows that hadn't quite connected, but he looked unharmed. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, looking at his teammates with a mixture of gratitude and doubt.
"I think… I think I'm ready," he muttered aloud, almost as if trying to convince himself.
Mikoto reacted immediately. She bolted upright, still gasping for air, and pointed at him, her voice rising more than usual.
"Don't talk nonsense, Bell-dono! This isn't the same as facing the Apollo familia!"
Bell blinked, surprised by the intensity of her words. Mikoto continued, steadfast, still panting.
"We're only four members! And Ouka and I have barely reached Level 2… and we don't even have enough experience. Apollo has hundreds of adventurers, several established Level 2s… and a Level 3 with years of experience! You can't compare it to simple training against us."
The words hit Bell harder than any of the attacks they'd tried against him. He lowered his gaze slightly, clenching his fist.
"I…" she began, but Mikoto hesitated for a moment, swallowing before continuing.
"That's why… I'm going to ask Lord Takemikazuchi to allow me to temporarily transfer into your familia, Bell-dono."
Silence fell over the courtyard. Bell's head snapped up, his eyes wide.
"What?! Mikoto, you can't…!"
She interrupted him, her tone firm although her gaze showed the seriousness of the weight of the decision.
"I know. I know exactly what it means. If I transfer, I won't be able to return to my familia for another year. But I don't care. This is how I'll repay you for what you did in Rivira. That day… you saved me, you saved us all. Now it's my turn to return the favor."
The other members of the Takemikazuchi familia stared at her silently. Ouka frowned at first, clearly worried, but then he sighed and nodded with a tired half-smile.
"You're stubborn as always, Mikoto. But… if it's for a friend, I approve of it too."
Chigusa and Asuka exchanged glances. The former looked away, blushing, and muttered softly.
"Yes… if it's to help, I can't say anything."
Asuka, still breathing heavily, gave a thumbs up from the ground.
"Do what your heart tells you."
Bell looked at them all, his chest tight. He'd trained until he was almost out of breath, but no battle had prepared him for that kind of decision. He took a step toward Mikoto, shaking his head.
"Mikoto… I don't want you to sacrifice so much for me."
She interrupted him with a slight but determined smile.
"It's not a sacrifice, Bell-dono. It's my decision."
Bell clenched his fists. He didn't know what to say. He could only look at Mikoto with gratitude and a lump in his throat.
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In the next chapter, Freya's plans and the war game against Apollo will begin.