With her newly acquired status as a Familia goddess, Hestia received her definitive dismissal from Hephaestus.
The reason was as logical as it was humiliating: "Now that you have your own Familia, you can't keep living under my roof. As a goddess, you must start behaving like one."
The words echoed like an ultimatum, leaving Hestia no choice but to leave the workshop with eyes glistening with unshed tears.
She couldn't stay, much less drag her first and only child into that situation of eternal charity.
The reality was harsh but undeniable: every Familia needed its own home.
Continuing to mooch off Hephaestus would have been an absolute failure as a deity.
What hurt most was that if she'd been alone, she would have persisted with her characteristic shamelessness.
But facing Bell, her first child, that option simply didn't exist.
Dignity, for the first time in her celestial existence, had become a necessity.
So with a shrunken heart but head held high, Hestia left Hephaestus's shop carrying only a small bag with her meager belongings.
The next step was finding shelter, a nearly impossible task considering their complete lack of funds.
In Orario, money was the true god, and without it, not even a deity could aspire to decent housing.
It was Bell who broke the tense silence as they walked through back alleys: "Goddess, is there any place in Orario that doesn't require money?"
The question made Hestia bite her lower lip.
There was one place, yes, but no sane god would choose it voluntarily.
"There's... an abandoned church," she finally admitted, avoiding his eyes.
"It's in ruins, in the worst possible district, without intact windows or..."
Her voice failed as she imagined them sleeping among rubble.
But Bell's reaction surprised her.
"It's perfect," he said with a calm that bordered on surreal.
"A newly formed Familia can't afford luxuries. The isolated location is ideal for keeping my parameters secret."
Hestia knew instantly it was a white lie - no sane person would call that dump "perfect" - but the gesture made her throat tighten.
Since when did a god need her own child to save her pride?
With renewed determination, Hestia clenched her fists.
"Then it'll be our temporary base! And when we get the money, we'll move to the most exclusive district!"
This time, it was Bell who smiled at seeing the fire in her eyes.
The reality of the church surpassed all their negative expectations.
The building stood like a stone specter, with broken windows that moaned in the wind and a roof threatening to collapse at any moment.
Even the most desperate beggars avoided the place.
"Wow... this is even worse than I remembered," Hestia muttered, feeling remorse eating at her stomach.
But Bell had already begun inspecting the place with military pragmatism.
"The main hall has a solid floor. With thorough cleaning, we can sleep here."
As he spoke, he kicked aside debris with his feet, mentally calculating which areas were safe.
He knew no god would bother them in this forgotten corner of the city, but he'd still do a reconnaissance round later.
Security remained a priority.
As evening fell, shadows stretched like claws over the crumbling walls.
Hestia looked at the sky with concern.
"We should prepare sleeping arrangements before it gets completely dark."
The thought of spending the night in complete darkness, with only precarious candles for light, made her briefly long for Hephaestus's warm shop.
But then she saw Bell, her first and only child, already rolling up his sleeves to clean the centuries-old dust from what would be their temporary home.
No complaints, no reproaches.
Something broke inside her as she watched this scene.
"I'll help too!" she announced with sudden energy, pulling up the sleeves of her blue dress.
"A goddess can't leave all the work to her Familia!"
Bell opened his mouth to protest, but Hestia silenced him with a gesture of her small but firm hand.
"This is our first mission as a Familia," she declared with a solemnity she'd never shown before.
"We may not have gold or comforts... but we have our pride!"
"Bell-kun, don't think of me as a useless god who can't do anything. I can also do simple jobs. So, you have to rely on me more in the future."
"I see, Lord God."
---
Amidst the forgotten ruins, they soon found shelter under the eaves of a near-demolished church. Inside remained many prayer benches that, though dusty, hadn't rotted. Several items were still serviceable.
The church contained a confession booth that, beyond accumulated dust, housed a sofa and surprisingly intact bed. The purpose of a bed in a confessional remained a mystery, its original use unclear.
The sheets, while free of suspicious stains, had greyed from disuse. Without proper cleaning, they'd need replacement. Fortunately, Bell kept spare linens in his dimensional storage.
Three hours of intensive cleaning passed.
"Ugh..."
Hestia, completely abandoning her goddess image, collapsed onto the freshly made bed. Cleaning the ruins had drained her physically and mentally. In three hours she'd worked harder than her entire time in the lower world. Now she was exhausted.
Lying on the slightly firm mattress, body aching, she couldn't help thinking: "Compared to Hephaestus's place, this is much worse," longing for her former mooching lifestyle.
But turning her head to see Bell—who'd been working tirelessly—her defeated expression vanished. She even sat bolt upright.
"No more of this, Hestia! You're not that lazy freeloader anymore. Now you have a child to care for."
With that resolve, she straightened her posture.
"Bell-kun."
Bell, having just finished his tasks, noticed the goddess staring intently.
It was her sitting position that made him step forward, muttering "Excuse me, Goddess" as he corrected her careless pose.
That white dress and cross-legged position had been... rather revealing.
"Goddess, with such thin clothing you should mind your posture. That position... shows too much."
Hestia gasped "Ah!" and immediately clutched her skirt, her face turning scarlet. She'd forgotten they'd be living together now—with a boy no less.
"I'll be living with Bell-kun from now on, I should be more mindful," she murmured, adjusting her dress before continuing:
"Bell-kun, as my first and only familia member, you must be careful. If anything happened to you, it would devastate me."
Her words carried a clear message: "Please don't die."
Bell understood perfectly. He wasn't foolish enough to risk his life needlessly. The power he sought required methodical progress, not recklessness.
"Goddess, don't worry. I desire strength, not death. While I'll take risks, I'll advance step by step. I won't fall in the dungeon due to carelessness."
"Whew... that's a relief."
Hestia visibly relaxed. She'd feared her child might charge into danger pursuing power.
Though she'd never had a Familia before, she'd heard stories of adventurers dying from overconfidence. With Bell, she couldn't bear that outcome.
"So, what's your plan? First familiarize yourself with the dungeon?"
Bell nodded.
"That's the plan.
The surface is dangerous, but the dungeon more so. 'The city that devours' refers precisely to it.
The upper floors are relatively safe, but danger increases deeper down.
I won't venture into risky areas until I'm accustomed to it and level up."
He recognized the dungeon's peril, but controlled exposure would make it his nourishment. As an inexperienced adventurer, he needed that training.
"Seems I needn't worry overmuch."
Hestia felt relieved. The desire for power was good, but required restraint. Bell understood his limits.
With approval, the goddess added:
"Your approach is correct.
The dungeon is dangerous.
As a rookie, you should absorb experience, not challenge deeper floors.
You must understand—the dungeon is always hungry... to devour everything."
"Hungry? The dungeon is... alive?"
Bell furrowed his brows.
Hestia nodded gravely, adopting a solemn tone:
"The dungeon is a living being.
It lacks consciousness, but has instincts.
Like a womb spawning monsters.
It hates gods and seeks to consume the world.
That's why Orario was built atop it:
To control the monsters it generates.
Without this restraint, they'd infest the world.
The dungeon's core, in its deepest depths, is its heart.
They say as long as it exists, the dungeon will keep spawning threats."
That was all Hestia knew. The dungeon's deepest secrets remained unknown even to most gods. She shared this to help Bell grasp the true danger.
The first image that came to Bell's mind: "The One-Eyed Black Dragon."