Is It Wrong to Crave Love (In A Dungeon?) Chapter 17 - Support

Hedin Selland was conflicted regarding a person.

The first time he spied on Moses Vanderzee, a Rookie Adventurer, was from a hidden vantage point, after a few of the Einherjar had reported that in the task of watching over the Lady, there had been a never-before-encountered variable. The hottest topic Adventurer in Orario, the individual whose existence was posited to upend the entirety of the Dungeon, the Captain of the relatively small Hestia Familia, had encountered their Lady at the Orphanage she often visited. The skinny, blue-haired, stormy-eyed boy who appeared at first glance to be of no particular threat or consequence to anyone had somehow gained their Lady’s attention. 

Hedin knew little about him and chose to reserve his judgments until he gained more information, or perhaps spoke to him personally. He moved, as such, to observe, from afar, without getting in the way of his Lady’s goals or wishes, acting only as an observer from a distance. Thus, he’d watched the boy on the night he approached the Hostess of Fertility. His perspective of the boy went high and low at times, dropping when the Goddess Loki interfered, but rising when the boy chased her off. 

Hedin, being of elven heritage, had sharp ears, and his senses as a Level 6 Adventurer could not be underestimated. Every word of the conversation held within a noisy tavern across the street, he had heard, and every sentence, he had grasped. He felt a sense of camaraderie with Moses Vanderzee, because indeed, he who had eyes could clearly see. Offending Lady Loki was certainly worth it for his own Lady, and Hedin had nodded quietly, softly, and felt a strange hum of approval.

That approval quickly morphed into disapproval the moment he touched his Lady’s hand, forgetting himself, abandoning his station, and it took a great deal of control to stop himself from exploding into expletives and marching down there to attack the boy himself. However, there was a greater, more unusual problem that came from the physical contact, one which had Hedin sucking on his teeth in disbelief.

Did he— did my Lady just— from touching—

Hedin’s senses were sharp, and unlike some individuals, some young, inexperienced elves who were woefully unaware of certain aspects of biology, Hedin was not. Hence, he knew what that tremble was, that shake was, and was well aware as to why his Lady had made such a sound.

There must… must be some sort of explanation. There… There… There must be…

A skill? Magic? Trick? What method? How dare—

No… No, how dare I? My Lady would never succumb to such tricks… but… but if she would never then—

Gnashing his teeth, conflict had warred within him, one borne of the notion that his Lady was beyond all others, and thus such foul tricks would never work, yet another, questioning then that if that was not a vile trick, his Lady had received such a… stir from a mere touch.

Hedin pushed it to the back of his mind, watching closer, more cautiously, more keenly, with sharp, strained eyes. In so doing, his opinion of Moses Vanderzee continued to decline. It was, often, in many ways, a great torment, belonging to the Freya Familia, as every one of them held only the utmost of love for their Lady, but they were aware that love could not belong to them alone.

However, this was different. The cur spoke with his Lady casually, held her hand casually, and the more he forgot himself, acting in a manner that he had neither the rights nor the privileges to, the further Hedin’s vexation grew. 

This was not the same way his Lady acted when she found a warrior of great skill, or when she found an individual of potential merit that could be added to the Einherjar. No, something about this was different, and something about Moses Vanderzee was different. Something which stirred his Lady in a way that had never been done before. 

Outside of the Hostess of Fertility, as the boy exited, Hedin watched, along with the others who also watched and protected their Lady. When the boy exited the establishment, and as his Lady followed him, Hedin was the first to notice that something was peculiar.

Moses Vanderzee turned his gaze towards the sky, the moon, the stars, speaking of its beauty, and comparing it to their Lady, but in that brief moment, when his gaze had gone up, his eyes had darted towards the roof, where he hid. Hedin stiffened and did not move. The boy’s gaze lingered for a moment before he turned away, back towards his Lady, speaking to her.

Did he sense me? No, that’s impossible.

The thought seemed almost too absurd to consider. A Level One Adventurer being able to sense a Level 6 Adventurer observing him? Preposterous. Nay, outright insane to believe.

Yet, the further the words emerged from his lips towards his Lady, and as he made that outrageous request, Hedin had been floored with the sheer audacity of the boy.

“Audacious!”

The word instinctively snapped out of his mouth, and he quickly berated himself. Composed himself, lest he be found and, in his folly, expose his Lady’s secret.

Yet, Hedin Selland would not leave it be.

No, he could not leave it be.

Thus, as the man departed from his Lady, after making such a preposterous request, Hedin began the act of stalking Moses Vanderzee. 

He followed from a distance, watching the young man return without making direct contact. However, to Hedin’s surprise…

He had not been the only one stalking him.

Individuals, cloaked, daggered, bearing all the hallmarks of ne’er-do-wells, had awaited in the corners and shadows of an unlit alley for Moses Vanderzee as he returned home. Individuals who, at a glance, by the equipment they wore, had numbers amongst them that were at least Level 2, if not Level 3. No fewer than a dozen of them, brandishing weapons, sneering, possessing inauspicious intentions even a fool could gleam.

…His actions incite enmity, but to have mobilized this quickly?

Hedin Selland found himself in a rather sour position. It was clear his Lady held some form of special affection for Moses Vanderzee, and thus, were she to learn the man was to encounter danger, blatantly life-threatening danger, and he had done nothing, only watched from the side, it was not a slight that would be forgiven.

Given the overwhelming odds, as well as the disparity in levels, there was no doubt in Hedin’s mind that should the ambush be successful, Moses Vanderzee’s fate would only be death. Had he not chosen to stalk the man today, perhaps, death would have come, and a competitor for his Lady’s favor would be eliminated. Alas, because he had, should a mishap occur under his watch, it would, unmistakably, be his sin.

What sort of fortunate star were you born under, Moses Vanderzee?

I cannot believe I am forced to do this…

Begrudgingly, quietly, Hedin moved, with the grace and swiftness of a Level 6 Adventurer, dropping amidst the hooded figures, without so much as a sound. Magic was his specialty, and he was renowned as a Magic Swordsman, not as a hand-to-hand expert in close-quarters combat. Yet, when there was at the very least a three-level gap between himself and the strongest of the would-be assailants, it did not matter. All of them were dispatched with rapid-fire knife strikes to the back of the neck, faster and swifter than they could even sense his presence.

Grabbing them all, without a word or sound, Moses Vanderzee continued on his way home, never the wiser to the fact that he had just been spared what would undoubtedly have been a fatal encounter.

Hedin had taken what appeared to be the ring-leader of the ambush to a more remote alley, and the man recognized him at first glance, and proceeded to soil himself at first glance. 

“Y-you… you’re the H-H-Hildrsleif!” 

“If you are aware of who I am,” Hedin had said. “Then you are aware of what I can and will do.”

“I-I-I don’t know who ordered the hit! I swear!” The man blubbered without hesitation. “T-t-the job came t-through the grapevine! To g-g-get rid of some upstart Adventurer doing shit in the Dungeon no one wants! The price tag was a hundred thousand valis! That’s all I know! I swear! I swear! Please! Believe me!”

Hedin nodded. “I do.”

He snapped the man’s neck, quietly, soundlessly, painlessly. 

Such dirty work was almost beneath him, but such was merely the nature of things and the position he found himself in currently. He could not have the rabble going off to report to his fellows that there was a Level 6 Adventurer protecting Moses Vanderzee, because such a thing was blatantly untrue, and because doing so would only lead to a severe escalation in whatever scum was sent next to kill Captain of the Hestia Familia.

How preposterous.

Despite it all, Hedin could not help but laugh, wryly, at the entire ordeal. A former King of Hjaðningavíg Island, being reduced to a shadow-bodyguard for a potential competitor of his heart’s affection. Who would believe such a thing?

Yet, love made fools of all men. 

Its grasp made no distinction to station or repute.

Quietly wiping his glasses with a cloth, Hedin decided this matter would be best kept to himself. He could not fully explain the issue, after all, without confessing he had chosen to stalk Moses Vanderzee, and should such a matter make its way to the ears of his Lady, he imagined she would be most displeased. 

“Varian Hildr.”

The bodies were disintegrated to ash with his spell, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and burnt flesh that was quickly blown away by the wind. Hedin had thought then, perhaps it would be best to leave matters be, to return and rest, yet an odd feeling had made him decide otherwise.

Thus, he continued to stalk Moses Vanderzee.

He stalked him until he saw the man return to the place he called home, a dingy, run-down church of little to no renown. Yet, a church whose courtyard appeared perfectly cleaned and maintained, whose windows, though aged and cracked, shone with tender care and diligence. A church whose front streets were swept and cleaned, which possessed an ambience of homeliness that almost seemed tempting to wander in.

Whether it was the result of a skill, an Authority, or both, Hedin Selland could not say.

Still, he did not enter.

He closed his eyes, softly breathing as he watched from his vantage point. As he listened from his vantage point. The conversation between Moses Vanderzee and a prum girl, one who addressed herself in the third person. The boy spoke of odd customs, traditions, of games, and of a childhood spent as an orphan. 

The more Hedin listened, the more irate he grew, the more his vexation towards Moses Vanderzee, and his disfavor for Moses Vanderzee intensified. For in eavesdropping upon a private moment, one which was not meant for his ears, rather than attaining confirmation that Moses Vanderzee was the sort of man he needn’t have qualms of eliminating for the sake of his Lady…

All he received was evidence to the contrary.

He could not find a substantial reason to despise Moses Vanderzee.

For that reason, Hedin grew to despise Moses Vanderzee.

No, for a reason, more, something deep within him did not accept Moses Vanderzee. An itch in his throat, a bubbling in his stomach, a gnawing in his chest. There was something, a reason, deep and fundamental, as to why he could not accept Moses Vanderzee. Something he could neither elucidate upon nor verbalize satisfactorily.

When next his eyes opened, it was morning. When next his eyes opened, he overheard words spoken from the man’s goddess, given an edict, and a command.

“That… girl, Syr. It might be best if you stay away from her.”

Hedin, listening, had straightened, his breath almost hitching.

Could it be? His first thought was celebration, then it was curiosity. When given a direct command from his goddess, would he, still, in spite of such a thing, pursue his Lady? If so, then, without a doubt, Moses Vanderzee would be the sort of wretched, abominable, traitorous ilk who—

“As you wish, my goddess. I’ll avoid her henceforth.”

Hedin shuddered as though baptized with frozen water.

“You’re not going to ask why?”

“If it’s something my goddess has decided, there does not need to be a reason.”

Hedin departed immediately after.

He did not stay, not a second further, not after hearing those words. He had long overstayed his welcome and long intruded on the privacy of others in a way even he himself found contemptible.

One less competitor for his Lady’s affection should have given him cause to bear a jocund mien, yet instead, there was only an acerbic tang lingering upon his lips. Where there should have been satisfaction bubbling in his stomach, there was only a hollow, aggrieved gnawing, and a sensation of ill-gotten victory.

Hedin caught a glimpse of his reflection, cloaked as it was, in the window glint of a building, and there, and then, he understood why he could not accept Moses Vanderzee. 

Hedin laughed.

…What a deplorable fool.

=====)+(=====

Mister sure is in a good mood today…

From the moment they left the Church, to arriving at the Guild and officially getting the Mister recognized as a Level 2 Adventurer ever since leaving the Guild, Lilly could not help but notice how the Mister had a spring in his step that he had not possessed the previous day. 

Lilly was keen to notice such things, the changes in the body language of adventurers, in their small mannerisms and habits, because those small changes had often been the difference between life and death.

The Mister smiled at almost everything, hummed continuously, greeted almost everyone, and nothing appeared to be capable of getting him down. Even when they had been badgered by a group of adventurers all asking different questions about his secret to leveling up, the Mister had answered them politely and without much thought.

“Love.”

“For my love.”

“I did it for love.”

“It’s all for love.”

The answers, without thought, all revolved around love, and when asked to clarify, the Mister did not even try to do so. Instead, he would wave them off, dragging her along with him, without a thought or a concern for the storm he was leaving behind.

As they headed towards the Free Market District, Lilly couldn’t help but clear her throat. “D-Did something good happen, Mister?”

Moses smiled. “Our Goddess gave me something special this morning.”

“Something special?” Lilly blinked. 

Was that it? In a way, Lilly could understand. Lilly had not gotten many gifts either. Yet the way he was acting, it had to be some gift. Lilly scrutinized the Mister from top to bottom, and besides the beard, which had grown overnight, Lilly could not find a single thing else that was new about him. He was not wearing any new ornaments or anything particularly noteworthy as special enough to be a gift.

“What is it?”

“Do you want to know?”

“Yes, Lilly wants to know.”

“Do you really want to know?”

Lilly was curious. What could Lady Hestia possibly have given him to make him this happy? The only thing Lilly could think of was—

Lilly’s face caught ablaze.

No, no, no, no! Lilly was s-sleeping there too! There’s no way Mister and Lady Hestia could have… Lilly would have heard the groans and sounds if they…

“W-w-wait, y-you’re not going to do something dirty, are you, Mister?!”

“Something dirty?” Moses chuckled. “Your mind is in the gutter, Missus.”

Lilly pouted. “Are you teasing Lilly again?”

“Not this time,” Moses said, patting her head. “I’ll show you once we get back. That’s a promise.”

The Mister pulled out a list that had been folded and kept within a space in his attire. 

“For now, we have a lot to do, Missus. Eina gave me a referral for the Hephaestus Familia to help with renovations and construction work. Our Goddess told me to meet Lady Hephaestus if I need anything, so I’m going to do that. We also need to get some gear, stock up on food items, and—”

“M-Mister! W-w-what’s this?”

“What’s what, Missus?”

“This! This!”

Lilly pointed at the piece of paper, jabbing it with a trembling finger. 

“W-w-why is your shopping list written in hieroglyphs?!”

Moses blinked. “Hieroglyphs?”

“Yes!”

“This… isn’t the language everyone uses?”

Lilly’s jaw dropped. Lilly was tempted to begin strangling the Mister right there on the street, and refrained from doing so only because it would draw too much attention.

“M-Mister…” Lilly pointed to a signboard nearby. “C-can you read that?”

Moses’ gaze flickered upward. “...Adventurer Free Market.”

Lilly let out a breath. Mister can read Koine, so he isn’t illiterate… so why…?

“Mister, no one can read those hieroglyphs. They're called the Language of the Gods. No one can read it unless they’re a God.” 

“But I submitted my adventurer application using this, and there wasn’t any problem?”

You what? “That— that’s because…” Lilly was flummoxed. “M-Maybe the Guild has people from the School District, and maybe they learn it there…… b-but that’s very rare, Mister. You can’t expect to find other people who can read it! You really can’t! Not everyone is privileged enough to have attended School!”

Moses blinked. “Ah. Right. School is… a privilege.”

“You—” Lilly could not believe it. “You went to School, Mister?!”

“I was at the top of my class. It sounds impressive, but given I had zero social life… it wasn’t really…”

Lilly stared. The more she found out about Moses, the more questions there were to ask. Lilly could not understand how the Mister could afford the fees, considering he was an orphan.

But… but if Mister is someone well-educated then… then Lilly…

Lilly’s heart started racing. Lilly was not strong. Lilly was not fast. Lilly was not powerful. The only thing Lilly could count on was that Lilly was smart. Lilly had a solid head atop Lilly’s shoulders. That was the greatest and only advantage, the best way to be useful. 

If Moses was someone smarter than Lilly, someone more educated than Lilly… wouldn’t Lilly be much less useful to him? To the Familia? Moses was already stronger than Lilly as a Level 2 Adventurer, already carrying the Familia on his back, but if in this regard Lilly couldn’t compete either…

“This might be a problem. The number of things we need to get are too many for me to read off. If no one can understand a thing I write, then…”

“Lilly can handle it!”

Lilly immediately volunteered. 

“Don’t underestimate Lilly,” Lilly said. “Lilly is a seasoned adventurer, Mister. Lilly knows everything there is to know about gear, supplies, rations, and tools. Lilly’s memory is the best, and Lilly perfectly memorised all the things the Mister said we needed.”

“Oh,” Moses blinked. “That’s actually really helpful, Missus.”

“Mister can focus on the more important stuff! Mister is the core of the Familia, so he shouldn’t have to be bothered with minor details. Leave all the logistics to Lilly!” 

Moses nodded. “Okay.”

“Lilly can really handle it, believe—” Lilly paused, taking a moment to parse the word. “...O-okay?”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

Lilly had expected some back and forth, and even some more convincing.

Just like that…?

“Y-you’re sure…? Lilly… can… Lilly absolutely can, b-but… a-are you sure, Mister?”

“I trust you, Lilly,” Moses smiled. “After all, you’re the Missus.”

Something danced in her stomach, fluttered, and turned in her gut.

“L-Lilly won’t let you down, Mister!”

Mister believes in Lilly! Lilly has to do what only Lilly can!

Lilly swore then and there...

Lilly would be Moses' Greatest Supporter.

The best Supporter in Orario.

=====)+(=====

…What sort of joke is this?

An elf in a black hood pressed against the wall of an alleyway, finding the entire situation utterly ridiculous. It was broad daylight, yet there were three different sets of groups stalking her prey, and by the appearances of things, none of those three different groups were aligned in motivations or intentions.

One was another elf clad in green, masked, and more adept at stalking and tracking than the others. The next was a woman with gray hair, who was a person that even she knew. The Personal Assistant of the Goddess, Freya was outright stalking Moses Vanderzee, with a twisted, depraved expression on her face, all while rubbing her thighs in a manner that made one’s nose scrunch in distaste.

Then, the final group was a party of thugs, whose intentions were the clearest of all.

Three groups? Three?

The black hooded elf slowly grabbed the empty air, where her right arm once was. The limb ached despite its absence, a limb she’d lost after approaching that campfire. She grit her teeth, glaring towards the other parties stalking him, and found herself growing frustrated.

She had chosen to follow Moses Vanderzee in the day rather than at night, despite the added risk for fear that others might target him during the twilight hours, and as it turned out, she was not the only one clever enough to think of such a thing. If she added herself into the equation, then four groups were currently stalking Moses Vanderzee.

It would make the task of killing him all the more difficult. More accurately, the task of killing him and doing so secretly, without revealing her through capabilities, or her true… disgusting, filthy form.

The thugs and the elf, she wagered she could handle, but the Assistant of the Goddess, that one, she could not. Killing or attacking her was all but a surefire way to get Freya’s wrath and get Ottar, the Champion, involved. That was an outcome that would only lead to catastrophic consequences for both her and her Lord.

She watched as Moses Vanderzee parted ways with a small, prum girl, and a stray thought came, whether it was possible to find her later and use her as a means to get closer to her prey…

And to her complete and utter irritation, she was not the only one thinking the same thing. That blasted group of thugs was going after the prum, having much less patience and much less tact.

Are they going to try to abduct her? In broad daylight?

It would be unbelievably stupid of them. She could intervene, but publicly, her strength was nowhere near enough to handle that many individuals at once, so she would have to create a commotion, and creating a commotion would draw attention, and drawing attention was the opposite of what she wanted.

The Assistant did not care for that prum and had her eyes only on Moses Vanderzee, so she clearly would not intervene. The other elf was likely to be the one to make a move first. 

Or, that was what she thought.

One moment, the group looked primed to pounce on the prum; the next, they were gone.

Gone.

Just… gone. No sign. No trace. As if a wind had blown and they had gone with it. Her eyes shrank, and her entire body trembled.

What… what just…?

A bead of cold sweat ran down her brow.

Something, someone, had interfered, and she had not sensed them. She could not identify them. She could not tell if they were male or female, and could tell absolutely nothing about them, who they were, or what they wanted. Other than the fact that they managed to completely elude her senses from start to finish.

If that person could evade her senses, then—

“You’re the one they call the Banshee. Filvis… something.”

Filvis went stiff. The voice came from behind her. She wanted to turn her neck, but a hand snapped out and held it in place. Held it, that even if she tried, she could not move.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Move and you’re dead.”

Sharp claws came out of the fingers, almost piercing her neck. That was when she knew. The strength needed to do something like that—

Level 6.

A Level 6 Adventurer.

There were few individuals of that caliber in all of Orario, and this one, she recognized. The claws gave him away as a cat-person, as did the voice. There was only one notable Level 6 individual of that race.

“Y-you’re…” Filvis trembled. “The Vana Freya…”

The City’s Fastest Adventurer.

Allen Fromel.

“...Tsk,” Allen growled. “I don’t know why Horn is stalking that guy… but I know which flies also stalking him are a danger.”

That girl, Horn, was rumored to be incredibly important to the Goddess Freya. Filvis wanted to curse herself for not realizing someone would be watching her to ensure her safety. Someone from the Freya Familia. However, not even she could possibly believe that a Level 6 Adventurer would be assigned to monitor a mere Assistant.

Now, Allen Fromel was touching the back of her neck. Holding her. Yet, she could not resist. She dared not resist. If she did, if she could resist, even slightly, against the grip of a Level 6 Adventurer holding nothing back, that would be the biggest, glaring sign something was wrong with her. So she had to endure. Endure his touch—

“Let go of me! Let go! Let go!”

“Shut it. You’re looking awfully suspicious from where I’m standing,” Allen sniffed. Then, he growled. “If you’re in league with those bastards—”

“I’m not!”

Filvis gritted her teeth.

“I-I w-wanted to meet with… Moses Vanderzee… I-I heard about what he’s doing in the Dungeon and w-wanted to… g-get to know him. Now let go of me!”

“Right,” he scoffed. “And the best way to get to know someone is to follow them like a rat from the shadows?”

“Let! GO!” 

“Something about you feels off.”

Filvis trembled. The cloak bestowed on her by her Lord hid that shameful secret from the gods, but the senses of a First-Class Adventurer, a Cat-Person at that, were terrifyingly keen.

“I-I’ve a-admired him for a long time!” Filvis sputtered out. “I-I can’t let him know! T-t-that’s why! I—I—” 

“Whatever. It’s none of my business.”

His hand let go of the back of her neck.

“Tch. I don’t care about him. Who I care about is Horn. If there’s even a chance you’re a danger to her…”

The threat, for it could be nothing but a threat, hung. Silence followed. By the time Filvis turned around, there was no sight or sign of Allen Fromel anywhere.

Filvis rubbed her neck, gritting her teeth, and resisting the urge to tear off the flesh he had grabbed. She cursed and bit down the desire to scream.

She had not even gotten anywhere close to her goal of ridding the world of Moses Vanderzee, but she had been exposed. Now, there was a Level 6 Adventurer of the Freya Familia aware of her so-called ‘admiration’ for him.

When he died, it would be impossible to escape scrutiny as a suspect.

Somehow, the task of killing Moses Vanderzee, a Level 1, recently turned Level 2 Adventurer—

Was far more complicated than she ever expected.