Day 1-6: Foundation
The first week with Liliruca establishes a rhythm.
Dawn finds them at Babel's entrance, Leon arriving with quiet punctuality, Lili appearing moments later with her supporter pack and careful wariness. They descend without excessive conversation—just the necessary coordination of professional partners.
Floor five. Floor six. Floor seven. Floor eight.
Leon fights with practiced efficiency, Tsukikage and Kagezashi flowing through monsters like water through stone. Each strike is precise, economical, carrying just enough Qi to ensure clean kills. War Shadows dissolve to single cuts. Dungeon Lizards fall before they can charge. Armored Beetles crack under blade strikes that find gaps in natural armor.
Behind him, Lili works with quiet competence.
She collects magic stones rapidly, her small hands moving with practiced efficiency. She navigates corridors confidently, clearly familiar with the upper and middle floors. Most importantly, she stays exactly where she should—close enough to collect loot quickly, far enough to avoid combat danger.
Good instincts, Leon notes repeatedly. Survival skills honed through necessity.
But beyond the professional efficiency, something else develops.
Small moments. Tiny gestures. The gradual building of trust.
Day 2:
Leon notices Lili hasn't brought lunch. Again.
Without comment, he shares half his Qi-infused provisions—dried meat, bread, preserved fruit. She takes it hesitantly, like accepting charity wounds her pride.
"Partners share resources," Leon says simply. "Eat."
She does, and some of the wariness in her eyes softens marginally.
Day 3:
A Dungeon Lizard gets past Leon's guard, charging directly at Lili. She freezes—just for a moment, just long enough to be dangerous.
Leon's Qi-enhanced movement carries him between them. Tsukikage removes the lizard's head before it can reach her.
"Are you hurt?"
Lili stares at him, breathing hard. "Leon... saved Lili."
"Of course. That's what partners do."
She's quiet for a long time after that.
Day 4:
They rest on floor seven. Leon performs light Qi circulation while Lili organizes her pack with meticulous care.
"Can Lili ask something?" Her voice is barely audible.
"Yes."
"Why does Leon treat Lili fairly? Most adventurers..." She trails off.
Leon considers his answer carefully. "Because treating people poorly requires more effort than treating them well. And because you deserve respect."
"Lili is just a supporter."
"You're a person. A skilled professional. Those things matter more than job title."
Lili doesn't respond, but her hands stop trembling as she works.
Day 5:
Leon catches Lili watching him train during their rest periods.
He's practicing Qi circulation—the visible kind, where energy glows faintly around his hands and weapons. It's advanced technique, requiring precise control.
"What are you doing?" Lili asks, curiosity overcoming caution.
"Energy manipulation training. It enhances combat effectiveness."
"Can Lili learn?"
The question surprises him. Leon studies her carefully—the genuine interest in her eyes, the carefully hidden hope.
"Possibly. Not everyone can manipulate energy consciously, but..." He channels a small amount of Qi, making it visible. "Try to sense this. Close your eyes. Focus inward."
Lili closes her eyes, brow furrowing in concentration. After a long moment, she shakes her head.
"Lili doesn't feel anything."
"That's normal. It takes time." Leon lets the energy dissipate. "Keep practicing awareness. Sensation comes before manipulation."
Lili nods, looking oddly determined.
Day 6:
Evening finds them at the Guild exchange, converting the day's loot to coin. Twenty-two thousand valis—a good haul from floors five through eight.
Leon counts out seven thousand and hands it to Lili. Slightly more than a third.
"That's too much—"
"You worked harder today. Carried extra weight when I collected drop items. Fair compensation for extra effort."
Lili stares at the coins, then at Leon. Something shifts in her expression—the last wall of distrust cracking, not breaking but definitely weakening.
"Leon is... Leon is really different."
"I'm just trying to do things properly."
"No." Lili's voice is firm, almost fierce. "Leon is kind. That's rare. That matters."
She bows—not the servile bow of a supporter to an adventurer, but something more genuine. Respect freely given.
"Thank you. For treating Lili like a person."
Leon nods, accepting the gratitude without excessive humility. "You've earned it."
That evening, as they part ways—Leon toward the church, Lili toward the slums—something has fundamentally changed.
Not complete trust. Not yet.
But the foundation for it. The possibility.
And for both of them, that's enough.
Day 7: Afternoon
Leon and Lili return early on the seventh day.
Not because of danger or injury, but because Leon's instincts—honed through eighty years in his past life—sense something different. A shift in the familiar energy signature he associates with home.
"We're stopping here," he says at floor six.
"Is something wrong?"
"No. Just... a feeling." Leon can't quite articulate it. "Let's head back."
They ascend quickly, exchanging their modest haul at the Guild. Leon's mind is elsewhere, focused on that strange sensing.
Something changed. Something at the church.
The walk home is quiet. Lili notices his distraction but doesn't comment, respecting his space the way he respects hers.
When they reach the old church, Leon pauses at the door. The energy is definitely different—warmer somehow, fuller. Like the space now holds more life than before.
He pushes open the door.
"I'm home."
"Leon!" Hestia's voice carries unusual excitement. She rushes from the back room, practically bouncing. "You're back early! Perfect timing!"
Behind her, someone else emerges.
A girl—white hair tied in a small ponytail, red eyes, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. She's thin, small for her age, wearing simple clothes that look new. Her expression mixes nervousness and determination in equal measure.
Leon studies her with practiced observation. Young. Inexperienced. But there's something in those red eyes—a quality he recognizes. Determination. The real kind, earned through hardship.
"Leon," Hestia says proudly, "this is Bell Cranel. She joined our Familia yesterday!"
The girl—Bell—steps forward and bows deeply. Too deeply, almost folding herself in half.
"H-Hello! I'm Bell Cranel! It's an honor to meet you! Lady Hestia has told me so much about you and I'm really excited to be in the same Familia and I promise I'll work hard and—"
"Breathe," Leon says calmly.
Bell stops mid-sentence, face bright red. "S-Sorry. I'm nervous."
"I can tell."
"Bell," Hestia says gently, "this is Leon Fury. My first child. He's been with me since I formed the Familia."
"Your first child..." Bell's eyes widen with understanding. "Then Leon-san is my senior!"
"Just Leon is fine."
"But you're my senior! I should show proper respect—"
"Respect is fine. Excessive formality isn't necessary." Leon extends his hand. "Welcome to Hestia Familia."
Bell shakes it with both hands, looking like she might cry from relief. "Thank you! Thank you so much! I'll do my best not to disappoint you or Lady Hestia!"
Leon nods once—calm approval, nothing excessive. The girl is earnest, genuine, almost painfully sincere. Reminds him of some of his younger students from his past life.
She'll do well. Just needs guidance.
A small sound draws Leon's attention. Lili stands just inside the doorway, almost forgotten in the excitement. She's watching Bell with an expression Leon recognizes—wariness mixed with something else.
Jealousy, maybe. Or fear of being replaced.
"Bell," Leon says, "this is Liliruca Arde. She's my supporter and partner."
Bell turns, noticing Lili for the first time. "Oh! Hello! I'm Bell Cranel! Nice to meet you!"
Lili's expression closes. "Hello."
The single word carries careful neutrality. Bell doesn't seem to notice, but Leon does. And judging by Hestia's slight frown, so does their goddess.
She's afraid. Another person means less attention, less security, more competition.
But that's a problem for later. Right now, this moment calls for something else.
"Bell," Hestia says, breaking the slight tension, "why don't you help me in the kitchen? I'm making dinner for everyone—our first family meal!"
"R-Really? I can help?" Bell's face lights up. "I'm not a very good cook, but I'll try my best!"
"That's the spirit!" Hestia practically drags her toward the kitchen area. "Leon, Lili, make yourselves comfortable! Dinner will be ready soon!"
They disappear, leaving Leon and Lili alone in the main room.
Silence stretches between them.
"Lili should go," she says finally. "This is familia business—"
"You're invited. Hestia said 'everyone.'"
"But Lili isn't—"
"You're my partner. You eat with us." Leon's tone leaves no room for argument. "Besides, Hestia wants to meet you properly. She's been curious."
Lili fidgets with her pack straps. "The goddess knows about Lili?"
"Of course. I tell her about my work." Leon gestures to the pews. "Sit. Rest. Dinner won't be long."
Reluctantly, Lili sits. Leon settles beside her—not too close, respecting her space, but near enough to be companionable.
From the kitchen area, they can hear Hestia's cheerful instructions and Bell's earnest responses. The smell of cooking begins to fill the church—something simple but well-made.
"Leon," Lili says quietly. "Is Lili being replaced?"
"No."
"But there's a new familia member. An adventurer. Someone who can fight—"
"You're my supporter. She's a different role entirely." Leon looks at her directly. "Bell joining doesn't change our partnership. Unless you want it to."
"Lili doesn't want it to change."
"Then it won't."
Lili is quiet for a long moment. "Does Leon promise?"
"I promise."
Some of the tension leaves her shoulders. She doesn't smile—Lili rarely does—but the wariness lessens.
They sit in comfortable silence, listening to kitchen sounds, waiting for dinner.
Evening: Family
Hestia emerges from the kitchen carrying a large pot, Bell following with plates and utensils.
"Dinner is served!" Hestia announces proudly. "Bell helped! She's actually pretty good at chopping vegetables!"
"I just followed Lady Hestia's instructions," Bell says modestly, setting the table.
They gather around the small table—four people now instead of two. The church that felt spacious with just Leon and Hestia suddenly feels cozier, fuller, more alive.
Hestia serves stew—hearty, simple, filling. Not as complex as Leon's cooking, but made with clear care. Bell helps distribute bread and water.
"Before we eat," Hestia says, standing at the head of the table, "I want to say something."
Everyone looks at her.
"When I came down from heaven, I was alone. No familia, no children, nothing. Then Leon joined me, and suddenly I had purpose. Then Lili started working with Leon, and our familia grew. And yesterday, Bell joined us." Her eyes get slightly watery. "We're small. We don't have much. But we have each other. And that makes us a family."
She raises her water cup. "To Hestia Familia. To new beginnings."
"To new beginnings," Leon echoes, raising his cup.
"T-To new beginnings!" Bell follows suit, looking emotional.
Lili hesitates, then slowly raises her cup. "To... to new beginnings."
They drink, and the meal begins.
Conversation flows naturally. Hestia tells embarrassing stories about Leon's early days ("He was so serious! I had to teach him how to relax!"). Bell talks nervously about her first day in Orario, how she got lost three times trying to find the Guild. Lili stays mostly quiet, but occasionally answers direct questions with careful politeness.
The food is good. Not extraordinary, but warm and filling. More importantly, it's shared—four people eating together, talking, laughing, being present.
Leon watches it all with quiet observation. In his past life, he ate alone more often than not. Meals were functional, not social. This—this casual warmth, this easy companionship—is new.
Not unwelcome. Just different.
"Leon," Hestia says, pulling him from his thoughts, "you're being quiet. Everything okay?"
"Fine. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"About how this feels... right." Leon glances around the table. "This. Family."
Hestia's smile could light the entire church. "It does, doesn't it?"
Bell nods enthusiastically, mouth full of bread. Lili doesn't say anything, but her expression softens marginally.
The meal continues. Eventually, Bell helps Hestia clean up while Leon and Lili organize equipment for tomorrow's dive. The evening settles into peaceful routine—people moving around the same space, comfortable with each other's presence.
When everything is cleaned and organized, Hestia gathers them again.
"Bell, you'll be staying in the room next to Leon's. It's small, but it's yours. Leon can show you."
"Thank you, Lady Hestia! I'll take good care of it!"
"And Lili," Hestia turns to the pallum girl, "you're welcome here anytime. For meals, for rest, whatever you need. You're part of this familia too, even if you're not officially a member."
Lili blinks rapidly, fighting tears. "Lili... Lili appreciates the goddess's kindness."
"Just Hestia is fine. We're all family here."
"Lili doesn't—" She stops, swallows hard. "Thank you, Hestia-sama."
"Close enough." Hestia grins. "Now, it's late. Everyone get some rest. Tomorrow's another day."
They disperse—Bell following Leon to see her room, Lili gathering her things to leave, Hestia beginning evening prayers at the small altar.
At the door, Lili pauses. "Leon."
"Yes?"
"Today was... today was good. Strange, but good."
"Will you come back tomorrow?"
"For the dive?"
"For the dive. For dinner after. For both."
Lili looks back at the church—at Hestia praying, at Bell's cheerful voice echoing from the basement, at the warmth that fills this old, drafty building.
"Yes. Lili will come back."
"Good."
She slips out into the night, pack on her shoulders, coins from the day's work hidden in her sleeve, and something unfamiliar blooming in her chest.
Family. They called it family.
The word follows her through Orario's streets, past the familiar squalor of the slums, into her cramped corner of the Soma Familia barracks.
As she lies down to sleep, clutching her earnings close, Lili allows herself something dangerous.
Hope.
Not much. Just a little. The tiniest possibility that maybe, just maybe, she's found something worth protecting.
Tomorrow, Lili will go back. Will work with Leon. Will eat with the family.
The thought should terrify her. Instead, it brings warmth.
Small. Fragile. But real.
In the old church, Leon performs his evening meditation. Qi circulates naturally through his channels as he reflects on the day.
Bell Cranel—earnest, determined, young. Will need training, guidance, protection. But has potential.
Liliruca Arde—damaged, wary, slowly healing. Needs patience, consistency, proof that kindness isn't a trap.
Hestia—proud, emotional, genuinely happy. Finally has the familia she dreamed of.
And Leon himself—no longer the solitary martial artist, but part of something larger. A teacher again, in a way. A brother. A foundation for others to build upon.
Different from my past life. But not wrong.
In fact, it feels exactly right.
Upstairs, Hestia finishes her prayers and smiles at the small altar. Her familia is growing. Her children are safe. For the first time since descending from heaven, she feels complete.
In the room next to Leon's, Bell lies awake, too excited to sleep. She's in a real familia. With a goddess who cares and a senior who seems incredibly strong and kind. Tomorrow, she'll start training properly. Tomorrow, her journey as an adventurer truly begins.
Four people, four different paths, converging in one old church.
The beginning of something small but significant.
Hestia Familia.
A family not bound by blood, but by choice. By trust. By the simple decision to care for each other in a city that often forgets kindness.
Night settles over Orario, stars shining above, the Dungeon's presence thrumming below.
And in one small church, four souls rest peacefully, ready for whatever tomorrow brings.
Together.