Hostess of Fertility — Evening
It was the kind of night Orario loved, warm, loud, soaked in ale and smoke. Adventurers filled the tavern shoulder-to-shoulder, bragging over kills and coin, laughter spilling into the street.
In the back, the Loki Familia dominated the largest table.
Loki was already half-drunk, dangling off Aiz with a flushed grin. "C'mon, Aiz-chan~ lighten up! We killed it this week!"
Aiz didn't respond. Her mind was still somewhere else. Down in the Dungeon. On the Fourth Floor. Thinking of a man with black eyes and blood on his hands.
Finn noticed. So did Riveria.
But no one said anything.
Then the tavern door opened.
A skinny boy stepped inside.
Bell Cranel.
Still dusty from the Dungeon. White hair sticking up like he'd run the whole way. Eyes scanning nervously, until they landed on Aiz.
He froze.
Aiz blinked. "You..."
Bell flushed red. Looked like he was about to bolt.
That's when Bete leaned back in his chair, just loud enough for the room to hear.
"Well look what the Dungeon dragged in."
Bell turned.
"Didn't expect to see you above ground," Bete said, fangs flashing. "Thought you'd be Minotaur chow by now."
"Don't," Aiz said sharply.
But Bete was already rising, stretching like a bored predator. "You keep chasin' dungeons with no backup, no gear, and no Falna worth the ink, you're gonna die fast, kid. Might as well dig your own grave and jump in."
Bell stiffened.
He didn't argue. He couldn't. He just stood there, hands clenched.
The laughter around the table wasn't cruel, but it wasn't kind either.
Then...
"He didn't die."
The voice cut through everything.
Low.
Flat.
Cold enough to freeze a fire.
Everyone turned.
From a small booth in the far back, Toji stood.
Black-clad. Untouched beer at his table. That same heavy silence wrapped around him like smoke.
Bete frowned. "What, you his bodyguard now?"
Toji stepped forward.
Calm. Measured.
"Shut your mouth."
The entire tavern stopped breathing.
Bete blinked, then barked a laugh. "Ohhh, now I remember you. You're that freak who ripped the Minotaur apart barehanded."
Toji said nothing.
"You think that makes you hot shit?" Bete stepped closer. "You walk in here like you own the room, don't even show proper respect to real adventurers"
"You're not a real anything."
The words hit like a blade.
Toji didn't raise his voice. Didn't even look angry.
Just... tired.
"You talk like you've seen war. You haven't."
Bete's eye twitched.
"You wanna go, asshole?"
Toji turned to leave.
And that, right there, was Bete's mistake.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Walk away, coward."
Toji stopped in the doorway.
The bar went quiet again.
Aiz stood, mouth parting. "Bete—"
Too late.
Toji vanished from the door.
Then reappeared in front of Bete.
No magic. No trick. Just raw speed.
Before anyone could react.
Crack.
Bete flew back into a table.
Wood splintered. Ale splashed.
He tried to rise, but Toji was already there, grabbing his arm, twisting it behind his back with a pop and slamming his face into the floor.
Hard.
Once.
Twice.
The room exploded into shouts.
Gareth stood halfway up. "Toji, that's enough!"
Toji's gaze snapped to him.
Gareth froze.
His instincts screamed not to move.
Riveria raised a hand. "Stop. Don't escalate."
Aiz hadn't moved. She was watching Toji carefully.
He let go of Bete, who groaned and rolled onto his back, dazed and bleeding from the mouth.
"Anyone else?" Toji asked the room.
No one answered.
He turned. Walked toward the exit again.
But this time, Loki stood in his path.
Still grinning.
Still tipsy.
But her eyes were sharp now. Too sharp for someone pretending to be harmless.
"My, my~ You don't play well with others, do you?"
Toji's eyes met hers.
"Stay out of my way."
And then he left.
The tavern stayed dead quiet for a full ten seconds.
Then Bell finally exhaled.
"Who is he?" he asked, half to himself.
Aiz didn't respond.
But in her mind, one word echoed.
Monster.
And it didn't scare her.
Not yet.
It fascinated her.
...
The door closed with a soft click.
Silence held for a moment longer.
Bete groaned on the floor, blood pooling from his nose, one eye already swelling shut. Even he didn't try to stand yet.
The rest of the tavern remained frozen.
Then...
Loki let out a low whistle.
"Well," she said, voice syrup-slick and amused. "Someone finally shut that dog up."
A snort escaped from Tiona. Tione tried to suppress a grin. Gareth rubbed the bridge of his nose like a man praying for patience.
Riveria looked like she was deciding between a diplomatic response and a tactical retreat.
Loki didn't wait.
She stepped over to where Bete lay and crouched beside him, tapping his forehead lightly with one finger.
"You alright there, pup?"
Bete growled, but even that sounded winded.
"I'm gonna kill that bastard," he rasped.
"No, you're not," Loki said cheerfully. "You couldn't even blink before he rearranged your spine."
She stood up, dusting her hands. Then turned to the table.
"That," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the door, "is not normal."
"No Falna, no known Familia," Riveria muttered. "His aura's unreadable. Like looking at a shadow that doesn't belong to anything."
Aiz was still staring at the door.
Finn tapped a finger on the table, thoughtful. "His movements... he's trained. That wasn't instinct. That was discipline."
"More than discipline," Gareth grunted. "He enjoyed it. You could see it in his face."
Tiona tilted her head. "He didn't even break a sweat. I've never seen anyone not use magic or weapons and still move like that."
Loki hummed. Her tone light, but eyes deadly sharp.
"I've seen monsters in the Dungeon. I've seen gods drunk on war. I've seen cursed spirits take over whole damn countries. But that man? He doesn't just kill. He knows how people break."
Riveria folded her arms. "We should alert the Guild."
"No," Loki said quickly.
That made everyone blink.
She grinned. "No need to spook him yet. We don't know what side of the coin he's gonna fall on."
"Loki," Riveria said slowly, "he attacked Bete in public."
"Bete deserved it," Tione muttered under her breath.
"Still!" Riveria continued, "We can't just ignore him."
"Oh, we won't," Loki said, smile widening.
She turned to Aiz.
"Keep an eye on him."
Aiz hesitated.
"...Understood."
Loki sat back down at the table and poured herself another drink.
"He's not one of ours. Yet," she said, raising her cup toward the door. "But I'd bet my divine wine stash that this little wildcard's gonna be a problem."
Then she paused.
No, she grinned wider.
"Or an opportunity~"
...
The sounds of the tavern faded behind him.
Toji walked.
No destination. No purpose beyond motion. Just a long, winding street under dying lanterns, the stink of old ale and city smoke curling in the air.
His hands were in his pockets. Shoulders loose. But his mind...
His mind was sharp.
Buzzing.
The fight hadn't lasted more than ten seconds. Still, it had left something behind. A hum under his skin. Like echoes of muscle memory, demanding more.
Bete was fast. Strong, too. For someone in this world. But he'd fought with rage, not precision. Tooth and bark and bravado.
The kind of fighter who expected the world to fold when he snarled.
Toji had seen real monsters.
He was one.
And he'd known, the moment Bete moved, it would've been more of a fight.
His knuckles still tingled. Not pain. Not guilt.
Just memory.
He passed a dark alley. A man in a cloak glanced up and then quickly ducked his head.
A merchant sweeping in front of his closed shop froze mid-motion, staring until Toji vanished from view.
He didn't care.
This city was filled with talkers. Pretenders. People who played at battle, and made spectacle of it.
But somewhere beneath the stone....
Real violence waited.
The kind that didn't need an audience. The kind that didn't posture or pose. Just blood, teeth, and purpose.
His feet stopped before he realized it.
He was standing at the edge of one of Orario's higher terraces, those thin walkways overlooking the city like a rooftop balcony.
Below, the Dungeon's plaza glowed faintly in the distance, humming with enchantments and filtered torchlight.
Toji stared down at it.
The wound in the world.
He didn't understand gods. Didn't understand Falna. Didn't even care.
But that place?
That was something he recognized.
Power. Struggle. Evolution.
And something else. A pressure. Like the air down there wasn't just thick, it was alive.
He could feel it from here.
The same way he'd once felt cursed spirits long before they revealed themselves.
A grin tugged at the edge of his mouth.
Barely there.
More instinct than emotion.
"Soon," he muttered.
Then the grin faded.
Because his instincts, those same ones that had kept him alive for so long, whispered something else, just under the surface.
He wasn't the only one who had felt it.
Eyes were on him now. Bigger than Bete. Smarter than the Loki Familia. Watching. Weighing.
And they weren't done with him yet.
Not by a long shot.
...
The next day...
Screams cut through the marketplace like blades.
People scattered. Shops overturned. Wooden stalls crashed to the ground as something massive barreled through, howling loud enough to shake the stone.
The Silverback, a giant white-furred monster with armor-thick hide and bulging muscles, roared as it chased its prey.
Bell Cranel was running for his life, cloak flapping, face twisted in panic.
Behind him, Hestia struggled to keep up, panting, shouting his name.
And ahead of them....
"...how annoying..."
Toji stood still.
Just another shadow among the crowd.
He watched the chaos coming like a man watching the tide roll in.
The Silverback locked eyes with him for half a second.
It didn't matter. The beast didn't swerve.
It charged straight forward, assuming this man, who wasn't running, who didn't scream, was either stupid or suicidal.
That was its last mistake.
Toji's head tilted slightly.
The cursed energy bled into the air.
Invisible to everyone else, but not to something. Something that stirred.
From behind his back, his shadow shifted unnaturally.
And from it, a three-sectioned staff rose, black as void, lacquered and wrapped with faintly glowing bands, a cursed tool, called forth from whatever unnatural pocket his power had twisted into this world.
Toji caught it in one smooth motion.
Spun it once.
CRACK.
He stepped forward.
And hit the Silverback across the jaw mid-charge.
The impact sounded like a thunderclap.
The beast's head twisted violently to the side. Blood sprayed. Its feet skidded across the cobbles, body crumpling into the side of a building, through the wall, bricks exploding outward.
The street went dead silent.
Bell skidded to a stop, wide-eyed, panting. Hestia crashed into him from behind.
"What—what was—"
The dust cleared.
Toji stood over the Silverback's half-buried body, staff spinning lazily in one hand.
The beast growled, struggling to stand.
Toji didn't wait.
He moved.
Too fast.
The staff blurred, joints snapping out, then pulling back in, spinning, whipping, cracking.
One hit to the knee. Another to the elbow. A final, brutal jab to the gut that launched the beast back into the street.
It howled.
Then tried to run.
Toji's eyes narrowed.
He leapt, above it, staff behind his back in a downward arc.
Boom.
The Silverback dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
Dead.
Bell stood frozen, shaking.
He barely even realized Toji was walking past him now.
Not toward him.
Past him.
Like he didn't even register the boy's presence.
Hestia blinked. "Wait—"
She stopped herself.
Because as Toji passed them, she felt it.
A pressure. Like gravity, but deeper. Older. Wrong.
She instinctively stepped in front of Bell.
Toji kept walking.
The staff vanished back into his shadow. No theatrics. No speech. Just silence and cold purpose.
He rounded the corner.
Gone.