Power Corrupts: Divine Worries (Patreon)

 She touched a penis. No matter what she did to distract herself, from tidying up, to reading a book, to trying to sleep, no matter what, Hestia’s thoughts drifted back to that thought. It wouldn’t leave her head, playing on a loop or creeping up on her each time she managed to distract herself. Without fail, each time her face began to burn. 

“Gah!” Hestia groaned, double face palming as she threw herself into her bed. A broom clattered to the floor, now forgotten, as she died of embarrassment. She kicked her legs up into the air, cringing so hard they kicked up and down. She had touched a penis. Full on. She grabbed it. And rubbed it and- “Ughh!” 

The memory of what she did wouldn’t stop replaying in her head. Never in a million bijillion quintillion years would she ever have thought...that...would happen when she snuck into his bed last night! Hestia never would have done it if she knew what would happen! 

She just wanted to cuddle her new child is all! Hestia has tossed and turned for hours, her excitement keeping her up. Jericho’s deep, even breathing certainly didn’t help. For weeks, she slept alone in this abandoned basement, and the silence was unbearable. During the first few days, it was only her pride as a goddess that stopped from crawling back on her hands and knees to Hephaestus, begging to just spend the night there so she wouldn’t feel so alone. 

And then there was suddenly someone else other than her in this hovel. Hestia had nearly woken him up when she finally abandoned sleep with a frustrated shout, tossing her covers up to see that the couch was far to small for him. His legs hung off, almost at the knees. Jericho really was huge, easily the biggest human she had ever seen. 

Hestia’s face burned even hotter as if she were trying to cook her hands that still covered her face. She had watched him sleep for a time, poking at his cheek to make sure that he was really real. And he was. He was larger than life, powerfully built, and he was real. 

And he was kind, the feeling of his hands on her feet, practically enveloping them, as he rubbed away the pain in her legs came to mind. Her face burned even hotter because of it. He bought her flowers than found their new home in a vase she went out and bought because there was no way she was going to let his gift wither away and die. Above all else, he chose her as his goddess. 

Jericho was huge, almost unnaturally so. That alone would be enough to interest some gods. He looked so strong and powerful, his body made up of nothing but defined lines and hard planes. Hestia couldn’t imagine any familia rejecting him from his appearance alone. When the found out how kind, gentle and thoughtful he was, they would never let him leave. 

And she touched his penis. “Ughhh!” She groaned again, curling up into a ball and wanting to disappear. She did a lot more than touch it! She-she-she…!

Hestia blushed all the way down to her toes. “He must think I’m some kind of harlot! Like Freya or Ishtar, or...or...or Loki!” She heard rumors about how the latter constantly molested her children. Freya’s familia might as well be her personal harem, that slutty goddess offered herself to anyone caught her eye. Ishtar, well, her familia were all prostitutes! 

She couldn’t stop herself though! When he was asleep, Jericho looked so inviting and she really wanted to just hold her child! But, when he woke up…!

“Ahhh!” Hestia yelled, her cry of horror muffled by her hands. She threw her head back, folding herself until the back of her head practically touched her feet, probably pulling something as she cringed. Hopefully to death. Her memories were all to cruel to replay the exact moment she realized what had been pressing against her stomach. 

She was a virgin goddess! For thousands of years, she rejected all suitors, none of them ever so much as laying a finger on her. At first, when Hestia was much younger, she wanted to save herself for her soulmate, her perfect other half, just like the stories. Then it was because every single god wanted to sleep with her because she was a virgin, for bragging rights that they made the big three virgins in Heaven the big two. Then it was because they were all in on a bet on when she would lose it and to who. 

Virgin goddesses weren’t supposed to touch penises! 

But he was hurting! All gods could tell when a mortal was lying to them and he lied when he said that it didn’t hurt. And...and when her back was killing her, her legs felt like they were filled with lead and her feet ached, Jericho helped her. Hestia had practically melted under his touch, the stress of a long day, no matter how great it ended, erased. She...all...she wanted to help him like that. 

“And I messed up his blessing,” Hestia groaned, curling back up into a ball. The most basic thing that a god could do, she somehow found a way to mess it up. She hadn’t thought that was possible. If anyone found out about that, then she was done for. She’d actually die of humiliation, only to go back up to Heaven and be mocked there since the overworked gods still there had to find their enjoyment wherever they could. 

A sigh escaped her. As much as she regretted it, Hestia knew exactly why she did it. Already, she owed Jericho so much. He chose her as his goddess. For messing up his blessing. For the flowers and the foot massage and for being so kind to her. So, when he said...it...hurt, she wanted to make it stop. 

It wasn’t until it came out of his pants that it dawned on her what she offered to do.

Slowly, Hestia lifted the hand that did the deed off her face, still blushing down to her toes. She stared at it for a moment, recalling how he had felt in the palm of her hand. Hard like steel wrapped in velvet, so warm and thick that she could barely wrap her hand fully around it. Hestia stared at her hand, practically seeing the seed that spilled on it. 

Hestia could swear she could still taste it, no matter how much water she drank. It was thick, clinging to her tongue and throat. It tasted sweet. Hestia wasn’t sure if she liked the taste at all, but she didn’t think she hated it. 

“He probably thinks I’m a slut,” Hestia repeated, her heart falling. She crawls into bed with him and then she touches his penis within a single day of knowing him. It was hilarious in a way that really wasn’t funny. She was a virgin goddess that acted like a harlot. All the other gods would laugh until they cried if they ever found out. 

Then she brought that hand down onto her face. Hard. Her cheek stung, but it was the kick she needed to get out of bed. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Hestia ordered herself, pushing herself to her feet. She couldn’t change the past, well, not without using her arcanum, so there was nothing she could do about it. 

“I’ll just have to prove to him than I’m not like those other floozy goddesses!” Right, this was no time to feel sorry for herself. Hestia closed her eyes, finding the blessing that connected her to Jericho. It was still there. 

“He should be in the Dungeon by now,” Hestia muttered, wondering if her first child was standing somewhere beneath her. He wasn’t. He promised that he wouldn’t go past the first floor, and it wasn’t anywhere near as big as some of the others. Each floor got bigger the further you went down, the first was only the size of a couple of blocks, while the deeper floors were the size of countries.

If he was down there risking his life, then she could do something other than dying of cringe. With a surge of motivation, Hestia threw open her closet, revealing its sparse contents, and grabbed a well worn light blue coat. “I should tell Micha and Hephaestus the good news,” she spoke aloud, an old habit from when she was alone to fill the silence. 

Hestia left her home with a pep in her step that was only slightly forced, striding out of the ruined church and into the city. It was a little after noon, so the city was in full swing as she made her way towards the heart of Orario. Humming a tune to herself, Hestia’s eyes bounced between stores, stalls, and people. 

Her gaze lingered on a roll of cloth displayed behind a glass window. Between her savings and Jericho’s, they had a little over 2000 valis. Which wasn’t a lot. They didn’t have money to throw around on pointless things. 

But Jericho only had the clothes on his back, so was it really a pointless expense?

Hestia made a note to stop by later to see how much it would cost to get a tunic and a shirt in...XXXL size. At least then his normal clothes could be spared the wear and tear they would collect in the Dungeon since they were far too nice for it. 

Her trek through Orario was uneventful, letting her enter the tower of Babel without any trouble. Hestia’s eyes glided over the staircase that lead to the Dungeon. An impulse struck her to run down them, to find her child just to make sure that he was okay. Again, she checked the bond between them and found that her blessing was still there. He was okay.

“Stay safe,” Hestia whispered, turning away to step onto a lift. Pulling one lever that would take her to floors 200 and above, then another to bring her to the 230th with the minimum amount of difficulty, the lift jerked for a moment before it began taking her up. As the lift climbed, Hestia fiddled with her gloves, made sure her ribbon was perfect and smoothed out her dress, wishing for a mirror. 

After what felt like an eternity, the lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal a richly decorated hallway. Smooth marble floors, white painted walls with large panes of glass every couple of feet to display ridiculously fine weapons and armor. Sets of armor made of adamantine, trimmed with mithril, imbued characteristics like Featherweight, or Durandal to make it unbreakable…

“Y-you could buy a hundred million jagamarukuns with that kind of money,” Hestia knew that prices inflated to an insane degree for first-class adventurers since they needed first-class gear made by first-class smiths, but it always shocked her every time she saw a price tag with more zeros than she wanted to count.  Hephaestus must be rolling in valis…

Shaking her head to get rid of the stray thoughts, Hestia continued down the hallways, trying not to think about how out of place she felt surrounded by so much wealth. She walked towards Hephaestus’s office, treading a path she walked countless times before. She passed smiths by, or potential customers, smiling at them as she walked. 

“Isn’t that Hestia?” One of the muttered just loud enough for her to hear. 

“Hm. She lasted longer than I thought she would.”

Hestia twitched when she heard them talking behind her back. Instead of turning on her heel to shout at them that she wasn’t here to mooch off Hephaestus, Hestia kept walking. It was hard to yell when she knew, deep down, they weren’t wrong. But things have changed!

Reaching Hephaestus’s office, Hestia wasted no time throwing it open, “Hephaestus, guess-” She started, beaming joy out of every pore, only to be interrupted by her redheaded friend. A beautiful woman sat behind a desk, a mountain of papers piled upon it, with a large black eyepatch that covered some of her forehead and cheek. 

“You aren’t getting a single valis from me,” Hephaestus cut her off, her voice monotone and blunt. That took the wind form Hestia’s sails, making her wilt practically instantly. 

“I’m not here for money!” Hestia shouted forcefully, getting her friend’s attention. A lone red eye bore into her as if she could see if she was lying since the lie detector all gods had didn’t work on gods. When they first came down from Heaven, it was one of the only advantages they allowed themselves to have over mortals, a safety net to stop something...unfun from happening. 

“Oh?” Hephaestus asked, leaning back, suddenly looking much more welcoming. She wore a white dress shirt, her sleeves rolled up past her elbows, the exposed flesh covered by black long arm covers to protect her when she applied her trade. 

Hestia nodded quickly, planting her hands on her hips, puffing out her considerable chest. “I have a child now! The Hestia familia has officially begun!” Hestia declared, laughing confidently. An expression of surprise appeared on Hephaestus’s face, but there was a smile playing at her lips. 

“Did someone finally give in?” Hephaestus teased lightly, poking fun at the fifty or so times she was rejected. 

“No! His name is Jericho and he asked me to join,” Hestia stated forcefully, crossing her arms and looking sharply to the side. She heard Hephaestus humm at that. Cracking one eye open ever so slightly, Hestia saw her friend’s lone eye narrow considerably. 

“Did he?” Hephaestus questioned, leaning forward, brushing a hand through her untamed red hair. “Tell me about him.” There was something in her tone that Hestia couldn’t quite describe. That didn’t matter, though, not when she could boast about her first child.

“He’s really big!” She kinda felt bad about always using that as his main description, but it fit too well. It was the first thing that anyone would notice about him. 

“...Big?” Hephaestus echoed, her eye narrowing even further as she interlocked her fingers, not quite managing to hide the frown tugging at her lips. 

“Hm! And he’s really sweet. He bought me flowers when he asked to join,” Hestia gushed, skipping over to Hephaestus. “Then he let me have all the jagamarukuns to myself because he knew that I skipped my lunch and break. Oh, and he gave me a foot rub and it felt amazing!” 

Hephaestus looked at her for a moment, her gaze growing more intense with every word that she said. Was she jealous? She should be!

“It sounds like you’re rather fond of him already,” Hephaestus observed, propping her head up by a gloved hand. “And it looks like I lost some money. I put a thousand valis that you’re first familia member would be a girl.” 

“Hephaestus!” Hestia cried, annoyed but not surprised. She pouted for a moment, then nodding to her first statement. “I do like him,” she said, taking a seat in one of the soft leather chairs in front of Hephaestus’s desk. They really hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know each other yet, but he seemed exactly what she hoped her first familia member would be like. 

Then she grabbed the hem of her dress, fingering the edge of it, a nervous habit she picked up at some point. “But, that’s not the only reason why I came here today,” Hestia started, seeing Hephaestus’s guard went up. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t blame her friend for that. 

Hestia bowed her head, her hands going to her knees, bending them slightly to create the image of complete submission. It wasn’t the dogenza that Takemikazuchi had taught her. That was her secret weapon. Taking in a deep breath, Hestia begged, “please teach me how to be an excellent goddess like you!”

“...what?” Hephaestus asked, sounding more confused than surprised. 

“I-“ ‘managed to screw up giving a blessing.’ “I want to be able to care for my child like you do yours! But...I can’t. And I don’t want any money or anything like that, I just…” in hindsight, it might have been a good idea to figure out exactly what she wanted before coming here. “I just want him to be able to rely on me and right now he can’t.”

A sniffle escaped Hestia, “I can’t give him potion or armor or anything that he actually needs! I can’t do anything!” All she could do was provide a place to sleep that he didn’t fit in. “So please, teach me your ways!” 

Hestia bowed even further, hearing Hephaestus let out a tired sigh. Whatever it took, she would do it. Any skills she needed to learn, Hestia would master! 

“Did Takemikazuchi teach you that?” Hephaestus asked, sounding exasperated. 

“...he said you wouldn’t be able to say no with this technique,” Hestia answered honestly. 

“What a troublesome guy,” Hephaestus muttered under her breath, a deep sigh escaping her a moment later. “Fine, stop bowing. I’ll help you a little bit.” 

Hestia jumped to her feet, throwing herself at her friend, uncaring of the stack of papers that got in the way of her hug. “Thank you! Thank you thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou! Thank you so much, Hephaestus! You’re the best-!” Somehow, Hephaestus managed to slip in a hand between their faces to push her back. 

“Be careful! Some of those were important!” Hephaestus shouted, but Hestia could tell she didn’t mean it. She might not be able to use her arcanum, but Hephaestus was still a master smith and that meant she was strong. If she wanted to, Hephaestus could easily shove her away. 

“You’re the best Hephaestus!” Hestia ignored her, trying to bring her friend even closer. That Hephaestus didn’t push her away was telling that she didn’t want to. “I love you!”

“Alright, alright, enough,” Hephaestus said, her cheeks a dusted pink. “I don’t have much time today, Loki is coming soon and I don’t want to deal with the two of you in the same room.” Instantly Hestia let go as if she were burned, darting back to her chair with a look of disdain on her face. 

“Ew,” Hestia said, more or less summing up her feelings about the trickster goddess. If she could be called a goddess at all with that flat chest of hers. “Good idea,” Hestia commended, putting her hands in her lap, looking like the perfect student. 

Hephaestus sighed, scooping up some of the papers that were knocked astray, “We’ll, if it makes you feel any better, Loki’s familia is going on an expedition soon. She’ll be causing every else trouble then.” Again, Hestia grimaced. By that, Hephaestus meant there would be a pranking spree in Orario and no man, woman, or child would be spared. It always happened when Loki’s familia delved into the Dungeon, trying to reach floors that had never been seen before. Worse, since she was one of the most powerful familias, none would dare to strike back at her. 

Not yet, at least. One day, and one day soon, Hestia would make that flat chested goddess pay for all the wet willies, whoopie cushions, and buckets of water perched on top of a door. 

“Well then,” Hephaestus started, leaning back into her chair. “Since I’ve never done this before, is there anywhere you’d like to start?”

“How about...the blessing I gave him?” Hestia asked, trying to stealthy nudge the conversation in the direction that would tell her how she managed to-

“Oh, you want me to show you how to hide his blessing?” Hephaestus guessed, earning a blink out of Hestia. Then another one. And another one. And one more to be sure. Then her eyes narrowed into slits. 

“Hide?” She echoed, tilting her head. 

“To make the blessing invisible to everyone unless you’re using your blood or Status Thief,” Hephaestus explained, knocking the breath from Hestia’s lungs. 

“You can do that?!” She shouted, though not quite enough to miss how her friend sighed in exhaustion. 

…

“You little-!” I shouted, feeling a goblin latch onto my leg, its razor-sharp claws biting into it, slicing through my blue jeans like they weren’t even there. I grabbed it by its head with my free hand, yanking it off me at the sacrifice of 3hp, before I slammed it against the Dungeon walls. My muscles proved they weren’t just for show, the goblins head cracked open like an egg, then its body became ash. 

With my other hand, I slashed at a goblin that tried to seize the chance to go to my head. The two halves lasted long enough that they stopped another goblin from taking out my hamstrings, letting me skewer the little bastard. It didn’t die instantly. Twisting my blade, the monster howled in pain, then I swung with all my strength. The flat of the blade stopped me from cutting it in half, then at the apex of the swing, the goblin flew off. 

It slammed into another two goblins hard enough that it reduced one of them to ash, the sounds of bones breaking and pained cries filled the not so empty halls of the Dungeon. Rushing forward, I brought a foot down on the remaining goblin that survived the throw, crushing its head underneath my sneaker. Hot blood flooded my shoe a moment before it was coated in a layer of ash. 

Goblins, despite their size, were a lot like rabid dogs. It’s easy to think all it would take is a good kick to drive them away, that since you were so much bigger and stronger, it would be easy to deal with them, but I learned that couldn’t be further from the truth. Especially when there was more than one dog attacking you, taking bites out of your leg and chipping away at your health. 

“I hate you. I hate you all so much,” I hissed, spotting another goblin. Grabbing my longsword with both hands, the handle not being big enough so I ended up ripping the pommel in my hand, and swung the sword like a bat. It cut the goblin in half, adding yet another magic stone in my growing collection. 

My legs hurt. Looking down at them, I saw over a dozen cuts where they managed to get me, each one burning with pain. Again, the movies lied to me. Getting deep cuts like the ones that covered my legs hurt like a mother -- there was no way action heroes pretty much get a leg chopped off then keep walking on it with only a small limp to remind the audience that they were hurt. It hurt so much I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck…” I groaned, sucking in a deep breath. The adrenaline helped drive me forward, along with the fact that if I stopped more would swarm me and I really would die. “Map,” I bit out, swallowing a slew of curses. The screen appeared, telling me that I was still on the right path to get out of this hellhole. It wouldn’t be long now. A few more turns and I would be free. 

Another goblin crawled out of the walls, the Dungeon intent to cut me off, but a quick punch to the back of its head killed it. I spared a glance at the empty hole, half expecting a portal to the depths of hell, but there was only a small crevice just large enough to fit a goblin.

“Come on,” I told myself, forcing my legs to move a little faster. Almost there. I rounded a corner, another goblin grasping at me, only to be met by a backhand that knocked it away. In the distance, I saw the exit. Along with another three goblins milling about, likely waiting for an adventure to kill. With my new weight and me abandoning any thought of stealth, all three of them whipped around to look at me. 

Gritting my teeth, I gripped my sword even tighter, rushing towards them. I could hear another goblin struggling to keep up with me, quickly left behind thanks to my long strides. Before long, I was on top of the goblin, swinging my sword with reckless abandon. The goblins attacked just as recklessly, my sword beheading one of them while the others went for my legs. 

One latched on, biting into my thick with deceptively long fangs. Snarling in pain, I slammed the pommel of my sword against the top of its head, caving it in. The last goblin circled around, going for my achilles tendon. Only my very recent experience with the tactic warned me that it was going to happen, letting me turn around in time that it carved a bloody line into my calf instead. 

Anger surged in my chest, fueled by pain. Grabbing the goblin by the head, I picked it up before throwing it down. Not killing it, but hurting it. It screamed in pain, my snarl of primal anger twisting into a satisfied smile as I stomped on its head. The satisfaction of hurting something that hurt you, the satisfaction called vengeance. All that crap about vengeance being hollow was just that -- total crap. At the moment, watching the goblin turn to dust, vengeance was fulfilling as all hell. 

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the last goblin running towards me, undeterred by the violence. I gripped my sword, ready to run at it just so I could throttle the little monster, only to realize what that would mean. Going back into the Dungeon when I was already at the exit. 

“You get to live this time,” I told it, hoping that the next adventurer that came down murdered the ever-loving fuck out of that goblin as I walked up the stairs. I walked up the steps, then stopped at the third step, turning around to look at the entrance to the Dungeon. The goblin came to a stop at the first step, looking at it, then at me, then at the step again. It hissed at me, stomping its feet, angry that I wouldn’t let it take a bite out of me. It looked like the entrance to the Dungeon was a hard barrier that monsters couldn’t knowingly walk through. Good to know. 

You know what? Screw that goblin. With that thought driving me forward, I took two quick steps and kicked the monster in the face hard enough that it flew away. God, that was satisfying. I hate monsters. 

“Right,” I said, taking in a deep breath. “Let’s see the gains.” Summoning my inventory as I walked, I saw that I had over thirty magic stones, two goblin fangs, and three goblin claws. Neat. Hopefully, that would be worth a whole lot to make all this crap worth it. 

“Status,” I said, reaching into my inventory screen, grabbing hold of the magic stones to start shoving them into the empty coin purse attached to my hip. 

Jericho

Level: 1

Progress to level 2: 42/1,000,000

Strength: 0 (+1)

Endurance: 0 (+11)

Dexterity: 0 (+9)

Intelligence: 0 (+1)

Sense: 0 (+5)

Skills:

Gamer Body: The user’s body is that of a video game.

(Massage: Skilled hands make targets tension and exhaustion melt away. Effectiveness is determined by Dexterity and Strength stat.)

Huh. I thought with how my legs were cut into ribbons, I would have picked up some kind of physical resistance skill. I was hoping for it actually. Well, at least I made some gains with Endurance and Dexterity. Intelligence and Strength were lagging behind already. Strength, I guess, is because I started off so strong so I wasn’t pushing myself to my limit with it. Intelligence was probably because I wasn’t really using my head much down there. 

“I need some armor for my legs,” I mused, walking up the stairs, stepping past another adventurer, who kinda just stopped and stared at me. Which was fair. My health was at 55 of 100, so I was technically nearly half-dead at the moment. On the first floor. Yeah, that couldn’t fly. 

“I need to do some grinding too,” Hestia said that I could do physical exercise to gain stat points. With Gamer’s Body, if I went full masochist, I could be much more effective in gaining them. Doing push-ups while wearing weights while I read textbooks as Hestia beat me with a broom. Stuff like that. 

At the same time...date night. To be blunt, most of the will-be-money hanging off my waist was going to treat Hestia to a special night. Was that smart? No. No, it was not. Should I be spending this money on leg armor, potions or other useful things that make sure I wouldn’t die on the first floor of the Dungeon? Yes. Yes, I should. 

Was I? No. No, I am not. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, I saw that the Guildhall was in full swing. I was too new to know when the busy and slow times were yet, but it seemed that adventurers liked to sleep in, and by mid-day, they started dungeon diving. A few glanced in my direction as I made my way over to the tellers, unstringing my hard-earned winnings from my belt. Coming to a stop in front of a glass window, a metal slot for me to dump the magic stones and drop items in with a Guild employee standing on the other side. 

It took a minute for the teller to catalog everything, but he dropped a handful of coins into his end before pushing it through. “Your total is 1500 valis.”

As much and then some as what I started yesterday. If flowers were 25 valis and a jagamarukun was 10, then an expensive meal should be somewhere in the hundreds. Which made sense given Bell’s reaction when he went to the Hostess of Fertility. Using that thread of logic, a meal costing 400 valis, in addition to the others that cost around 200 each...wow...Syr was really cutthroat.

“Jericho!” I heard a familiar voice call out. Turning left, I saw a crowd of people. After a few seconds of thinking that I had imagined it, I saw Hestia pushing her way through the crowd. Walking over to meet her halfway, the adventurers that she was trying to squeeze past suddenly gave way when I approached, trying very hard not to look at me. 

It was kinda hilarious. If only they knew I was technically one foot in the grave already.

“Hestia? What are you doing-” I started, only to be cut off when Hestia zeroed in on my legs, a gasp ripping from her throat. A pained hiss escaped me when she started to poke at the wounds, fretting over them, but unsure what to do about it. Looking down at the wounds now, the blood had spread, peppering my pants with dark wet spots. 

Huh. That was a lot of blood but I felt...fine? No lightheadedness or anything. The wounds hurt, so they weren’t just for show, but if I had lost that much blood then surely I would feel some side effects by now. Was this Gamer Body’s effect? 

“It’s fine Hestia, it looks worse than it actually is,” I said, getting a disbelieving look from her. Right. Lie detector. I need to get a lot better at telling half-truths. “It hurts, but it’s not going to kill me or anything. I’m going to be fine once I get a few bandages on.” I hope. 

“How…?” Hestia said, looking at the crimson blood on her fingertip. I felt some heat rush to my face, acutely aware of how everyone around us was at least listen with one ear. It was impossible not to. I was easily a foot and a half taller than anyone else here and Hestia was a goddess. It was impossible not to notice her. 

“I, uh,” I started, trying to say this that didn’t make me sound like a trash tier noob. There wasn’t one. Goodbye pride. I enjoyed you while I had you. “Well, I reached the entrance for the second floor- I didn’t go down it,” I quickly added, seeing Hestia’s Look. “but when I tried to turn back, I got swamped with goblins. I think I killed about thirty on my way back alone.”

Hestia’s eyes went so wide that if they weren’t filled with a bone-chilling fear it would have been hilarious. “Thirty of them?” She echoed, her voice faint. 

“Not all at once,” I clarified, keeping my voice low. I’m not sure why I bothered. I heard someone snickering behind my back, so it wasn’t like I could stop the secret that I wasn’t a badass mega warrior...well a secret. “Usually on about five or six at a time.” Yeah, judging from that look, I didn’t exactly assure her fears. 

“The Dungeon isn't supposed to send that many,” Hestia muttered more to herself than to me. I went to place a hand on her shoulder but paused when I noticed that there was still some blood on my hands. Instead, I dropped to a knee...I was still a head taller than her. I’m starting to think making myself over seven feet tall might have been a little much. 

“I’m fine, Hestia. I promise. Most of it was because of how tall I am -- I think I bought the wrong armor since everything on the first floor can only go for my ankles.” I said with a lopsided grin, hoping to get one in return, but her lips were pressed into a thin line, a grimace on her face that looked out of place. “Once I get used to the height difference then it’ll be no problem at all.” 

“Jericho, you could have died,” Hestia cut to the matter bluntly, her hands bunching up into fists. Her voice was oddly calm, a harsh contrast to the naked worry and fear in her gaze. 

I wish we weren’t doing this in front of so many people. Pushing that thought to the side, I gave her a slow nod, trying to think of something to put her at ease. “I could have,” I agreed after a second, an answer coming to mind. I doubt it would solve the problem, but it would certainly help. 

A sigh escaped me, feeling far more mentally exhausted than physically all of a sudden. “Hestia, if I’m going to do this, then I’m going to get hurt. That’s just part of the job.” I pressed forward when her lips parted to tell me that I didn’t have to do this. “So let me add something to the promise I made.” 

“I promise that, no matter what, I will not leave you alone,” I swore, drawing...inspiration...from the promise between her and Bell. Hestia sucked in a breath, telling me that my words struck home. Her bottom lip started to quiver, warning me of incoming waterworks, so I hammered the point home. “Just...believe in me a little, okay?”

Hestia tried to say something but it was incomprehensible as the waterworks came. She threw her arms around my neck, sobbing for all to hear. I heard some snickers and awws at the scene we made over Hestia sobbing in my ear. Yeah, it was time to split. 

“It’s okay, it’s all okay…” I soothed, wishing I could at her back but my hands were covered in blood. “Do you want to go home?” Great, now it sounded like I was talking to a small chil-

“Mm-hmm,” Hestia managed to get out, clinging to my neck with a surprisingly strong grip. 

“Are...you going to let go?”

“Nu-uh.”

Right. I don’t know what else I could have expected. Unless I wanted to stay here, in a busy lobby, under the scrutiny of dozens of hardened adventurers and Guild employees, until Hestia calmed down then I would have to do something about this. With a lack of better options, I started to stand, feeling Hestia’s arms wrap around me even tighter, before I swept one of my arms under her legs to pick her up.

Hestia just sniffled in response, squeezing me for dear life. Bringing myself to my full height, over everyone's heads, I saw Misha talking to a brown-haired elf -- Eina, Bell’s canon advisor. Misha caught my glance, giving me a cheeky smile and a wave as I walked through the crowd. Feeling more than a little embarrassed, I gave a small wave back. Misha said something to Eina that made both girls laugh. Probably at my expense. 

Making a quick exit out of the Guild with significantly less dignity than I came in with, I hastily walked down the steps and into the main plaza. Where there were even more people. Of course, there were. Oh well, nothing I could do about it now. 

“So,” I said in a low voice, carrying Hestia through the busy streets. She sniffled, trying to get a hold of her emotions. “I think I had a pretty decent day in the Dungeon all things considered. I made about 1,500 valis to celebrate with-”

“No,” Hestia interrupted, sniffing as she adjusted her grip so her face wasn’t muffled by my shoulder. 

My heart went still. “No?” I echoed, afraid of what she was saying no to. 

“W-we need to save up until you can buy some armor for y-your legs,” Hestia said, her voice oddly firm despite how thick it was with emotion. “And pants since yours are all ruined. And potions and bandages and a whole lot of other stuff!” Hestia decided before burying her head into the crook between my shoulder and neck. 

Ah, dammit. There goes that plan. But...at the same time...yeah, it was a lot smarter. I really shouldn’t think with my dick when my life was on the line. It was just...kinda hard. Not my dick. Maybe it was because my untimely death was so fresh, but it felt as if I had to make the most of this new lease on life. And so far, it was going great. Almost perfect really. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” I admitted however begrudgingly. “How about this -- after we go patch my legs up, I’ll check in with Misha to see if she can give me a lead on where I can get some decent armor for cheap.” I offered, mulling over the issue myself. Maybe I should look into finding Welf Corozo. Actually...yeah, that was a really good idea. I’m certain he would be willing to make some decent armor for cheap. 

“Misha? Is she your guild advisor?” Hestia asked, her tone still thick with emotion but her sobs had subsided. That was good. We got fewer odd looks as I steadily took us home. 

“I think so? She didn’t really say anything about it, but she’s the one that - ah, shoot,” I muttered, “I forgot to pick up the forms that you had to sign.” I realized with a frown. Well, Misha looked like she understood my situation when I head out, so I wasn’t worried. “I’ll pick those up while I’m at it. Does that sound good?”

Hestia sniffled before she answered, “it does...and I’m sorry for crying. It’s just…”

The anime really undersold how hard it was for Hestia before canon, I thought, stepping off Main Street. It did really explain why Hestia grew so attached to Bell, and to me, in such a short amount of time. That had to be why she broke down crying so often, completely overwhelmed with what I hoped was happiness. 

“You don’t have to apologize for a thing,” I dismissed, walking down the road that would take us home. “I get it. It must have been pretty hard for you, huh?” Hestia responded by sniffling loudly, another sob trying to escape her. “You’re not alone anymore, Hestia. And you won’t be again if I have anything to say about it.”

I half expected Hesta to start crying at the cheesiest of cheesy lines, instead, she squeezed down on my neck hard enough that I started to choke. “Jericho?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

…

Ducking low to enter the basement, I walked towards the bed as softly as I could. Leaning over it, I gently deposited the slumbering goddess onto the bed, earning a soft mumble of protest before Hestia curled up into a ball. I grabbed the blanket I used last night and placed it over her. 

I don’t know if it was her emotional outburst, but something had tuckered her out. 

“Guess that works out for me though,” I muttered softly, walking back to the couch as I gingerly pried off my pants to expose bloodied legs. I wasn’t scared to wake her up. Hestia was out like a light. Summoning upon my inventory, I grabbed the bandages I looted from the supporter. 

“Do I have an Observe skill?” I asked myself, trying to ignore how much worse the pain felt now that I was actually looking at the wounds. Some of them were kinda deep. Most of them would need stitches… 

I stared at the white bandages for a long second, analyzing how bandagey they were, only for nothing to happen. Nothing from my status, so either I didn’t have Observe, or I couldn’t get it yet. Maybe it was tied into my Sense stat somehow. 

With an internal shrug, I started wrapping the bandages over my leg- “Oh,” I uttered, feeling the pain instantly lessen from a wound on my upper thigh. I checked to see that the wound was still there but it was a little smaller, if only by a fraction. My mind drifted to my unseen health bar, curious. 

56/100 I kept the bandage there, waiting a moment, constantly aware of my health bar, then smiling when it ticked up to 57. Then 58. Then 59. Each time the wound hurt less and less and by the fourth tick, when I looked underneath a bloodied bandage, I saw that it was gone.

“So, bandages restore 1 hp a minute,” I muttered, moving on to the other wounds that covered my legs. That was...honestly kinda terrible. For starters, I had no natural regeneration. I couldn’t exactly stop to bandage up in the middle of a fight. I didn’t have a Bleed status effect or anything, but I couldn’t imagine there wouldn’t be a drain on my hp with a bad enough wound. 

I grabbed a rag, dipping it into a tub of water to wipe down my legs as the last few cuts healed. If my health got low enough, it would take over an hour for me to fully heal. Which was great in terms of reality, but really bad in terms of gamer mentality. 

“I guess I’ll have to stick with potions,” I mused once my lower body was clean. Though, it would be a question of how effective they were, or if they instantly restored health. I recall that they did in the anime and light novels, so I was hopeful. Still, the only way to know for sure would be to test it. 

With no other clothes, I had to put on my bloodied jeans, careful not to stick a foot into one of the many cuts in them. Teenager me would have liked how they looked. Teenager me was also an idiot. 

I started to walk back out, intent on taking care of my errands as soon as possible, only to pause when I reached the door. Glancing over at Hestia’s slumbering form, I walked over, a hand outstretched…that I gently placed on her shoulder to bring up her blanket. 

There was no need to rush anything. Hestia trusted me. Doing something stupid like molesting her in her sleep was a bad move all around. 

“Goodnight.”