Bell Cranel
Lv.1
Strength: H101→212 Endurance: i57→H121 Dexterity: H131→G201 Agility: G211→F321 Magic: i42→H186 ------
Atop the city wall in the early morning, Thor updated Bell's status.
As he looked at the numbers leaping upward at a startling pace, even he felt a flicker of genuine surprise.
Was this how quickly Bell grew?
In just one day, his stats had increased by that much.
The increase was probably a hundred times greater than that of an ordinary adventurer, wasn't it?
Bell noticed that his god had been silent for a long time. Unable to help himself, he asked softly, "What's wrong, Lord Thor?"
Thor came back to himself and replied calmly, "Nothing."
With practiced ease, he copied Bell's status onto a sheet of paper, then handed over the record of those astonishing gains.
Bell took it and scanned the numbers. His eyes widened, and he cried out, "W-what is this?!"
He practically lunged at the paper, bringing his face so close that he nearly pressed it against the page.
Thor had worried that Bell might grow arrogant when he saw such a dramatic leap. He was about to caution him, "This increase is pretty good, but..."
Before he could get out the reminder not to become complacent, he clearly heard Bell's voice, full of dejection and fierce frustration: "I'm too weak... I... I'm really too weak."
Thor paused, then smiled with understanding and a touch of relief.
It seemed that the harsh mockery from Bete, the werewolf adventurer, at the tavern last night, along with Bell's helplessness in the face of powerful monsters, had indeed shaken him deeply.
A burning desire to become stronger was something worth praising.
Thor smiled and patted Bell on the back, signaling that he could let his shirt fall back into place.
He reassured him, "Getting stronger is never something that happens overnight. Keep working hard. One day, your efforts will answer your hopes."
"Yes!" Bell replied emphatically. He lowered his shirt and put his jacket back on.
He looked around the empty stretch atop the city wall. There was no one else there, and he couldn't help asking, "Lord Thor, why did we come here?"
Thor explained, "There aren't many people around, and there's plenty of space. It's a good place to train."
The morning breeze stirred his star-speckled hair.
Bell's eyes lit up at once, shining with excitement. He eagerly pressed, "Does this have something to do with the [Hero Skill] you mentioned yesterday, Lord Thor?"
"That's right." Thor nodded in confirmation.
Bell asked impatiently, "Then... what exactly is a [Hero Skill]?"
Thor's gaze seemed to pierce the long river of time, and his voice took on a distant note.
"Over the course of my long life, I've seen many beings whom mortals called 'heroes.' Their strength was weak, and even the knowledge they possessed was exceedingly limited..."
He paused. There was no scorn in his tone; he was simply stating a fact.
"But some of their clever battle tactics and the flashes of determination that sprang forth in an instant were worth praising."
He turned his gaze back to Bell, watching him closely. "I recorded the valuable skills and techniques those heroes displayed. Now, I can choose the ones suited to you and teach them to you."
The moment Bell heard he could learn new skills, he grew excited.
His eyes shone with eager anticipation, and he hurriedly asked Thor, "Lord Thor! What skill is it?"
Thor thought for a moment, as if carefully searching through memories as vast as a sea of stars. Then he spoke.
"[Hero Skills] come in many forms, and they need to suit you... In that case, I'll start by teaching you the basic [Flash Step]."
"Flash Step?" Bell was unfamiliar with the name. It was a skill he had never heard of in Orario. "Lord Thor, what does this skill do?"
Thor was about to explain, but changed his mind and decided to demonstrate instead. "Words can't compare to experiencing it yourself. It'll be better if you see it firsthand. Come on, draw your knife and thrust at me."
He didn't change his stance. He merely beckoned Bell casually with his free hand.
Bell was shocked. "Attack you with a weapon? How could I do that?!"
He instinctively shielded the hilt at his waist, utterly unwilling to do it.
Thor's voice was calm and left no room for argument, carrying the absolute confidence of an ancient being.
"There's no need to worry. With the strength you have now, this ordinary iron... isn't enough to hurt me in the slightest."
His eyes told Bell to attack without hesitation.
Only after Thor had given such an assurance did Bell finally manage to relax.
He took a deep breath and drew the knife that had accompanied him on his first expedition into the Dungeon.
He settled into a steady combat stance.
This was the first time he had truly faced Thor as an opponent.
The moment their eyes met, an immense pressure, born of the difference in their very levels of existence, rushed toward him.
Thor's figure seemed perfectly whole, without a single opening!
Bell gritted his teeth in shame.
How could I have thought I might actually hurt Lord Thor...
He focused his mind and gathered his strength, concentrating all his attention on the imposing figure before him.
Once he had steeled himself, he sprang into action!
His Agility stat of 300 gave him astonishing explosive power.
Bell felt lighter than ever before. He pushed off the ground, shooting toward Thor like an arrow loosed from a bow, leaving an afterimage behind him.
His knife sliced through the air and thrust toward Thor's chest.
But just as the tip was about to touch Thor's clothes, Thor's figure slipped to the side and slightly backward with an utterly natural motion, as if merely brushed by a breeze.
He hadn't even used a skill.
Bell's confident strike missed.
"With resolve like that, you won't even touch the hem of my clothes." Thor's calm voice came from Bell's side, reminding him that he could attack more fiercely.
Bell's heart jolted. Amazing!
Thor's evasion was effortless, without a single wasted movement. It was simply the instinctive rhythm of his body.
The sharp contrast ignited the boy's fighting spirit.
His gaze sharpened. He swiftly shifted his balance and attacked Thor again.
The knife in his hand became a storm of blows, stabbing, slashing, and slicing quickly, accurately, and fiercely at Thor's vital points!
But the figure with one hand behind his back was like a kite drifting through storm-tossed waves.
Every seemingly perilous twist and turn was perfectly timed, allowing Thor to let Bell's blade skim past him without even touching his clothes.
Bell hadn't expected that even after updating his status and seeing his stats soar, his speed would still fall so far short of Thor's.
He calmed his mind and forced himself to stay composed, rapidly adjusting the rhythm and speed of his attacks.
Every step and every swing grew more precise and swift.
He felt new strength welling up deep within him, rapidly adapting to his surging stats. It was as if invisible shackles had come loose from every limb.
In Bell's perception, Thor's previously elusive movements gradually became clearer, and he began to follow their trajectory.
Sweat trickled down his temple. He focused completely, and at last, in a subtle moment as Thor shifted his weight, he spotted an opening!
Now!
Bell's eyes flashed. The strength he had built up erupted all at once, and his arm, gripping the knife, became an afterimage that tore through the air as he thrust forward with unwavering resolve—
This strike gathered all his explosive power and his grasp of the timing. There was no way it could miss!
The blade pointed at Thor, whose figure seemed to have frozen.
But just as the tip was about to touch the fabric—
"Whoosh!"
Thor vanished into thin air!
Like a grain of salt dissolving in water, he disappeared without warning or even the slightest stir of wind.
Bell's full-force strike pierced only the cold air. With nowhere for the tremendous force to go, he stumbled.
His pupils shrank. His mind went blank with shock. "W-where did he go?!"
Before the recoil from his missed thrust had completely faded, something cold and deathly pressed gently against the most vulnerable spot at the side of his neck—
Thor's joined fingers rested precisely on his carotid artery.
The threat of death felt utterly real.
A chill raced down Bell's spine to his feet, then surged all the way to his head, freezing the blood in his veins!
Only then did Thor's voice ring out, languid and clear, from just behind him:
"This is [Flash Step], a Noxian assassin's clever technique."
"A-amazing!" Bell's heart pounded wildly. Shock and lingering terror, along with an overwhelming awe of the miraculous [Flash Step], flooded his mind.
Thor lifted his fingers from the side of Bell's neck.
The deadly chill vanished at once. Bell's legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the ground with a thud.
He gasped for breath, cold sweat streaming down his forehead.
The sensation of death from that moment still seemed to linger as a chill against his skin.
He stared blankly at where Thor had been standing, then jerked around to look at Thor now standing behind him. His mind was completely blank—
The skill had activated without a hint of warning, too quickly for him to catch even an afterimage. It was as if space itself had folded.
Only after his ragged breathing had eased did Bell manage to recover somewhat.
Thor waited quietly for him to catch his breath before explaining.
"This is a skill that lets you teleport to a mark. You can leave your own mark on a living being's body or on an object you carry with you, like your knife.
"When you activate the skill, you can instantly move to the marked location, shifting through space."
He raised his hand, and an intricate, mysterious rune gathered at his fingertips, glowing with a faint silver light.
"This is what the mark looks like." He showed it to Bell, then gently closed his hand and let the rune vanish. "The skill's greatest advantage is that it doesn't consume any of your stamina or magic."
Flash Step!
Bell's eyes lit up.
Teleporting without using any stamina or magic! It was an incredible skill!
Just imagining the possibilities of using it in battle was enough to set his heart racing.
Thor stepped forward and took Bell by the arm, helping him up from the cold ground as he continued.
"However, Flash Step isn't invincible. It has its limitations."
"Given your current strength, you can successfully use Flash Step about three times a day at most. As your level rises in the future and your mental strength and control improve, you'll naturally be able to use it more often. Also..."
He paused for emphasis. "Flash Step has a strict range limit. If you're more than a hundred meters from your mark, you won't be able to teleport there, even if the mark is still in place."
Bell nodded, understanding.
There were quite a few limitations, but even so, the skill was far more powerful than he had imagined!
Three uses a day, each letting him teleport within a hundred meters without expending anything! It was an incredible skill that could turn the tide at a crucial moment!
"Do you want to learn it?"
"Yes!" Bell answered without hesitation.
"Good."
Thor nodded with satisfaction. A glimmer flashed at his fingertips, and a piece of [Stardust] appeared in his palm, radiating a gentle starlight.
He held the precious Stardust out to Bell. "Here. Swallow it, and then I'll guide you through mastering the skill."
Looking at the Stardust Thor had painstakingly condensed using a great deal of Magic Stones, Bell felt unease and guilt well up in him again.
"Lord Thor! Th-this is the Stardust you worked so hard to condense to restore your power... I..."
Thor remained calm and patted Bell on the shoulder. "Don't hesitate so much, Bell. It's like the difference between chopping wood first or sharpening the axe first."
"You're my 'blade.' The sharper and stronger you become, the more efficiently we'll be able to venture deeper into the Dungeon and obtain Magic Stones to restore my power. Improving your strength is an investment in our future. Spending one piece of Stardust to make you much stronger is worth it."
Under Thor's gentle gaze and repeated reassurance, Bell's inner struggle finally eased.
He solemnly accepted the Stardust, then swallowed it without hesitation.
The Stardust entered his body, and a cool, vast energy surged through every part of him.
Meanwhile, elsewhere.
Bete, who had been soundly taught a lesson last night, was pacing irritably along Orario's quiet morning streets, trying to dispel the frustration welling in his chest.
He kept his hands in his pockets, his boots thudding heavily against the stone road. His brow was furrowed, and his mind was still full of Loki's frightened expression and the complicated looks on his companions' faces.
He had just turned into a narrow, secluded back alley cluttered with junk, hoping to take a shortcut and clear his head, when—
A figure as imposing as a mountain appeared without warning in the narrow strip of light at the entrance, completely blocking the way ahead.
"Hm?" Bete glanced up in annoyance. The figure blocked the sunlight, leaving him able to make out only its sharply defined muscles and distinctive boar-like features.
As his eyes adjusted to the backlight and he recognized that silent, resolute face, his hands shot out of his pockets almost reflexively, and his body went taut as a bowstring.
"Ottar...!"
An intense sense of danger seized him.
The man before him was the Brave, captain of the Freya Familia—and the only Level 7 in Orario!
He instinctively tried to retreat, to get out of the disadvantageous alley first—
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The sound of rushing air rang out behind him. Several figures, swift as wraiths, descended from above and landed precisely on the low walls and piles of junk to either side and behind him, sealing off every escape route.
Every one of them radiated an aura of Level 5 or higher.
The elite members of the Freya Familia fixed their cold eyes on him.
Bete's heart sank.
He quickly took up a fighting stance, the greaves known as Frostwelt gleaming coldly. His low growl brimmed with tightly restrained anger. "Hey! What does the Freya Familia want with me?!"
Ottar didn't answer. He simply drew his enormous, chillingly imposing greatsword in silence.
His icy gaze swept over Bete. "Everything for the goddess."
The instant the words left his mouth!
Boom!
The sounds of a violent fight erupted all at once!
Just moments later, the fierce battle in the alley came to an abrupt halt.
Beaten black and blue, his magic and stamina completely depleted, Bete was tossed roughly into the depths of the alley like a heavy sack of garbage, landing in a foul-smelling rubbish heap.
The excruciating pain and impact made his vision go black, and he briefly lost consciousness.
W-why?
That was his last thought before he passed out.
He couldn't remember doing anything to offend anyone in the Freya Familia.
Meanwhile, in the shadows around the corner at the alley's entrance,
a graceful figure in a thick cloak stood quietly, her hood pulled low. She blended perfectly into the dim light.
Beneath the hood, Syr tilted her head and looked into the alley.
Her bright eyes lingered with interest on the unconscious werewolf, Bete, lying in the garbage heap.
As she watched the Freya Familia's elite regroup with the cool efficiency of men who had completed their task, then quickly disappear at the other end of the alley, a faint, delighted chuckle came from beneath her cloak.
Syr's slender fingers lightly tugged at the edge of her hood, making sure it concealed her striking gray hair and face.
A look of eager anticipation curved the girl's lips.
With her hands clasped behind her back, she skipped lightly toward the shop and murmured, her voice filled with an almost reverent longing:
"Hehe~ Now, how do I get him to adore me?"
Before you continue