Is It Wrong to Crave Love (In A Dungeon?) Chapter 16 - Confession

Zee grew a beard.

“Zee.”

Hestia grabbed Zee’s cheeks, smushing them in her hands. She stared directly into his eyes, in the early hours of the morning, looking down at him, as he lay flat, with the Supporter, Liliruca, sleeping on his chest. Staring as hard as she could at his face and at the tuft of blue that marred his chin.

“Good morning, my goddess. I trust your sleep was—”

His voice—

Was it… deeper?

Hestia’s heart skipped a beat.

“Zee…?”

“Yes, my goddess?”

It was deeper.

“Did you meet any goddesses yesterday?”

Zee blinked. Once. Twice. “Ah. I did! I met Lady Loki at the Hostess of Fertility.”

Undeniably, clearly deeper. She smushed his cheeks even harder as a wave of something flushed her cheeks. It was weak. Minor. Had she not been a goddess... no, had she not been a Virgin Goddess, that something would have been a lot more dangerous.

“Anyone else?”

“Not to my knowledge. It was only Lady Loki.”

Truth.

Hestia bit her lip. Zee’s stormy eyes stared with the same expression as they always had, but his face was not the same. Quite literally, his face had changed overnight. The beard was just one small addition to mask the overall changes. Her Zee would always be the most handsome person in the world, as far as Hestia was concerned, but she was aware not everybody would share that opinion, and that was fine. If they couldn’t see what she saw, it was all the more for her. Zee would always be perfect to her, no matter what.

Now, there was a slight change from his previous subjective level of Zee’s attractiveness to a more objective level. His blue hair was smoother, straighter. His gray eyes were sharper, more defined. His features were clearer, flawless. His body was still as skinny as ever, but there was a strange, model-esque change to that skinniness. His face, too, was far less babyish, and there was the aforementioned facial hair.

“My goddess?”

Then there was the deeper voice.

It was like an arrow piercing her heart every time he spoke. That sensation was not her imagination, but an actual stirring, a direct attack. Fortunately, Hestia, being a virgin goddess, was immune to such things. However, she was aware that a lot of other women were not.

Hestia grabbed the beard and tugged at it as she took a deep, long breath and counted down from ten.

“You grew a beard.”

“I don’t understand it either, my goddess. When I woke up… I suddenly found myself having a full beard.”

…Damn it, Zee!

Hestia loved Zee. No physical changes would affect that love. Even if he was lame, injured, beaten, or old, even if the entire world told her that her Zee was an eyesore, Hestia would still love him. Before, she only had to worry about people who would have an eye for him due to his rising status. Now, she had to be worried about people who would have bad intentions because of these… changes. 

She’d have to be chasing off the countless shallow wretches who’d be lusting after him and beating them off with a stick! 

“Should I shave—”

“Absolutely not!”

Hestia worried that the full depth of the changes unobscured by the beard would be too much even for her to handle. No, worse, it would be far more obvious to anyone how much he had changed.

“I mean… It’s best if you leave it, Zee.”

“I can’t explain how this happened.”

Hestia could. How could she not? Looking directly into his eyes, it was clear that it was no longer just herself and Takemikazuchi. Now there were two more traces of Authority within him, one belonging to the flat-chested no-boobs, Loki, which was already cause for Hestia to be less than charitable, but the other one, that Authority could only belong to one person. Beyond that, there was the prum sleeping on his chest.

“Liliruca has a special Magic called Cinder Ella. It’s a transformation magic that allows her to change her physical form.”

“Cinder… Ella?” Zee rubbed his chin. “Ah, Cinderella. Like the fairy tale of transforming at midnight because of a fairy godmother…?” Zee mumbled. “My goddess, why can I use Lilly’s Magic? I don’t recall casting it. I don’t even know what the chant is.”

The conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. Try as she might to hide the existence of that blasphemous skill, it was only a matter of time before incidents began to pile up that could not be explained normally, and that needed him to understand what that skill was capable of. 

“It’s due to that skill, isn’t it, my goddess?” Zee was quick to pick it up. He could be frustratingly quick-witted at times.  “The one you said, it’s best if I don’t know too much about?”

“...Yes.”

“I won’t question it,” Zee nodded. “If my goddess has a reason for not telling me about it, I’ll trust her judgment.”

Hestia bit her lip. My judgment… isn’t always the wisest, Zee.

Because you didn’t know about that skill, you came into contact with Loki-no-boobs and…

And now…

Hestia scattered her hair and resisted the urge to curse at that no-good, thieving harlot.

“Tell me everything you did yesterday. Don’t leave a single thing out.”

“Ah, yes, my goddess. After I woke up, I’d planned to go to the orphanage, and—”

Zee regaled her with the tale of the orphans, his story, and meeting the girl called Syr, who told him she worked at the Hostess of Fertility. The further he spoke of this Syr, the more suspicious Hestia became, and as he spoke of how Loki-no-boobs had tried to interfere between himself and this Syr girl, Hestia was all but certain it was as she suspected.

That no-good, thieving, dirty, lying—

Disguising herself as a mortal?! Is that even allowed?! 

“There’s something you need to know, Zee,” Hestia began. “That… girl, Syr. It might be best if you stay away from her.”

Zee blinked. Then slowly, he nodded. “As you wish, my goddess. I’ll avoid her henceforth.”

“You’re not going to ask why?”

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

This was the side of him Hestia had problems with. The part that would do whatever she wanted, no matter what. That love, that devotion to her, it was touching, but at the same time…

“Zee. I’m not perfect.”

“My goddess is—”

“I’m not perfect,” Hestia grabbed his cheeks harder. “You don’t always need to obey everything I say. I want you to be able to think and ask yourself, sometimes, if what I’m telling you to do is something you want to do.”

Zee looked deep into her eyes.

“If it is what my goddess wants, then it is what I want. There is nothing to think about.”

Hestia pouted. “Zee, I’m serious.”

“I am as well, my goddess,” His hand reached out, slowly cupping her face. “For wherever my goddess goes, I will go, and wherever she lives, I will live. Her people will be my people; her strangers will be my strangers. Should she leave this world, there I will die, and there I will be buried. My soul will never find peace, and ever so severely suffer, if anything but death separates her and me.”

Zee always said such things to her, such proclamations, and knowing them all to be true, they always set Hestia’s stomach burning. This proclamation of love was no different from all others, but it was different. It was a proclamation given after telling her he would completely disregard another woman simply should she ask, without needing a reason, needing a cause, needing a justification—

Simply because he loved her.

Hestia’s breath hitched in her throat. Before Zee had time to speak, Hestia did what she did best and acted on impulse, moving her head down and her lips to his.

He tasted, to no surprise, like jagamarukun and morning breath. There was a hint, here and there, too, of wine and apples, and a small hint of the briny, salty sea. Hestia’s eyes were shut because a part of her was afraid to see what his face would look like. Zee would forgive her; of this, there was no doubt. No matter what she did, Zee would forgive her. The question was whether Hestia would forgive herself.

However, Hestia too believed that if she never made the first move, nothing would change. 

The kiss was soft and chaste, and it was her first. Her first, ever. The only man, the only being she had ever kissed. A part of her fretted, within, questioning if it was bad, or if it was not done properly, but another part was just… engrossed in the moment.

She pulled away, still holding his cheeks. Zee was staring at her with wide eyes.

“I—” Hestia cleared her throat. “Y-you— t-that’s—”

The words would not come. She twiddled her fingers. Her face was burning. It was a new step. A new milestone. A kiss. A first kiss. She was the one who initiated it, but now, Hestia couldn’t contain the mix of uncertainty and dread and unease and worry forming in her stomach.

“My… goddess, may I—” Zee paused. “May I ask something?”

“Y-yes?”

“If it is not a bother…” he said. “Could you do that again?”

It is a request Hestia did not hesitate to oblige. Grabbing his head and kissing him just a bit longer and a bit harder than the first time. His lips felt sweeter, and sweeter, and she’d hesitated, almost to pull away.

When she did, she was almost out of breath, and he was staring, with a blank, almost zoned-out expression.

“Zee?”

“My goddess, might I ask if… You could do it once more?”

Hestia’s cheeks were red. She kissed him again, longer than the first and second combined. Long enough that all the breath in her lungs had left by the time she pulled up for air, and a faint silver string connected her lips to his as they both departed.

“My goddess, I’m truly sorry, but one more time…”

She kissed him yet again.

“Wait, my goddess, I think, I’m starting to understand something… if I could ask for you to do it again—”

And she did it again.

“If you would not mind my goddess—”

Thus it was that their day started, with her kissing Zee, and Zee, asking again, and again—

For one more kiss.

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

Eina rubbed her brows for the fifteenth time in the past five minutes.

She grabbed the piece of paper recording the information that had been sent down from above, or, well, technically from below, and had the strangest urge to run towards the nearest bar, fill a mug with the strongest of dwarven, belly-burning, mind-devastating liquor, and take consecutive shots one after the other. 

Re-reading the parchment again, and again, and confirming the words written on it were, in fact, not a mistake, Eina gripped the sheets so hard they crumpled in her hands, before, in fright, she let them go, worried the documents would be ruined from the force of her grip.

The piece of parchment had been left behind on her desk, in a neat envelope with a red wax seal that held the official Guild Sigil. When she’d broken it, there had been a drop in her stomach and a tremor on her lips as she’d grabbed the paper within. On her list of things most likely to be written within were a stern letter of reprimand or a notice of termination. Logically, neither were things that had any reason to come given her stellar performance and near-flawless record, but logic was not the foremost or primary mode of thinking when one was given a sealed letter with zero forewarning from their superiors.

The letter, to both her surprise and confusion, was written in the Hieroglyphs, the Language of the Gods, that none but her, within the Guild, were capable of reading. Finding it had been directly addressed to her, and that the sigil above it indicated this letter had come from the highest possible authority within the Guild, had been enough to make her lightheaded and take a cautious seat to prevent herself from collapsing.

What came next, the information provided, the details of an arrangement, a contract, a deal made with one Familia, that had never been made or extended to any other, had her almost questioning the authenticity of the document. It had her double-checking the sigils on the wax seal, because were any other individual to have mentioned such a lucrative bargain and such allowances were possible to be made for a Familia, Eina would have laughed them out the door, laughed her way home, laughed her way into her showers, and laughed her way into bed. Then, she’d have awoken with a smile and proceeded to laugh her way back to work the following morning.

Yet, before her, as if spitting in the face of plausibility and stretching the limits of possibility, was proof that such an arrangement had been made. Not only that, but the specific, finer details of the arrangement were only privy to an incredibly select few. The only reason she was granted access to this information was because she was the Advisor of an individual at the core and center of it.

“...Somebody pinch me,” Eina muttered, rubbing her brows even more furiously than before. “This has to be a dream…”

Secrecy was needed, clearly, as if the details of such privileges were to be made public, the resulting outcry and envy would be of near cataclysmic proportions. The clause, which included a complete exemption on all taxes, was enough to make eyes green with envy, but the allocation fund, which indicated the guild would be paying a Familia for their services in the ‘Dungeon Illumination Expedition’, was outright insane. It meant the Guild would, in theory, pay the bill for every necessary and critical expense needed in the course of the mission, which was, a roundabout way of saying there was a blank check with the name Hestia Familia written on it.

Of course, the expenses had to be within reason. It was now going to be her job to ensure such funds were used properly and account for every last valis, and, normally, Eina would have absolutely found the additional workload a hassle.

Normally.

Were it not for how this entire deal came with a clause put in place by Lady Hestia, which said the Advisor of the Captain counted as an unofficial member of the Hestia Familia, and their welfare counted as a necessary and critical expense.

Thus, that blank check with the name ‘Hestia Familia’ also had, written underneath, the name ‘Eina Tulle.’

“I must be dreaming. I’m probably still dreaming…”

There were conditions and caveats, the most important of which was a level of secrecy required regarding the full extent of the contract with the Hestia Familia, and details about Moses Vanderzee’s Falna. His skills, his magic, and his Status were not to be disclosed to others, mentioned, or recorded within the Guild’s public records.

This tied in to the other privileges the Guild afforded the Hestia Familia, amongst which was an implicit ‘We’ll look the other way, long as you don’t do something too egregious’ clause only afforded to the likes of the Ishtar Familia, who ran the Red Light District. Beyond that was a soft, almost implied: ‘We’ll protect you, as long as you’re not the one stirring up trouble’ clause. If any other Familia ever heard about it, they would call out and protest due to the blatant favoritism.

The cherry on top of it all was that, above board, there was a more ‘open’ declaration of a subsidiary relationship with the Hestia Familia, one which listed absolutely rudimentary and near-worthless benefits that provided the Guild with its standard illusion of absolute impartiality.

...Is this what it feels like to be a corrupt public servant?

What was publicly listed above-the-table and what was given under-the-table were so egregiously disparate that there was a shady, scandalous vibe to the entire arrangement.  Yet, this could not be avoided, because publicly making available the true breadth and depth of benefits would only invite trouble, both towards the Guild, for its favoritism, and towards the Hestia Familia, whom many would immediately see as a fat sheep ripe for plunder.

Many of the Gods, in the end, possessed Familias purely for their amusement. There was no shortage of deities who would not hesitate to declare a War Game on the Hestia Familia to absorb it, make it a subsidiary of their own Familias, and thus gain all its benefits. For the safety of the Hestia Familia, and for the sake of the Guild’s reputation, a lot had to be done below board.

And Eina was one of the beneficiaries of what amounted to a scandalous under-the-table deal.

“Eina? Are you alright? What’s this?”

Misha popped up from directly behind her, and Eina’s back straightened and stiffened, rapidly hiding the envelope with the Guild wax seal. 

“I can’t understand a word of this? Wait, isn’t this the same writing used by… ?” Misha’s face lit up. “Is this from him?! Is it a love letter?!”

Eina relaxed, almost immediately, thanking whatever fortune that had come her way that her higher-ups had been cautious enough to ensure the letter was written in the Language of the Gods.

“I-it’s private, Misha.”

“So it is a love letter!”

“I didn’t say that!”

Whether her luck was unfortunate or the universe was the most cruel, many of her co-workers chose that moment to arrive.

“What? Eina got a love letter?”

“Really? A love letter?”

“Don’t tell me it's from that Rookie?”

“Not him again.”

“Eina’s never going to let us live that one down.”

Eina’s chest puffed out, if only for the moment. “You shouldn’t! I kept telling you all that you can’t always judge a book by its cover, and—”

The truth was, on the surface, Eina had been as surprised, and as utterly flabbergasted as the rest of them, when the word had come from the Dungeon of what Moses Vanderzee had set out to do. Despite being his Advisor, Eina had no knowledge of the fact that Moses already had a skill, nor did she have any knowledge of what that skill did. She had wanted to check his Falna, but he informed her his goddess had hidden the vast majority of the information on it, such that there would be no point, thus making her only able to provide rudimentary, basic, and standard advice.

The last time they conversed, Moses Vanderzee asked her odd questions about the nature of the gods, which made Eina worried. That same day, he charged into the Dungeon and made a name for himself, his goddess, and his Familia, faster than any other adventurer in the history of Orario. Becoming a household name in record time had put most of her co-workers who doubted him to shame.

“It’s too early to say,” Sophie, the Elf, cut in. “He’s gone and painted a very big target on his back, and he’s still a Level 1. He might not last as long as you think.”

The overall tone changed. That was the unfortunate, somewhat questionable crux of it. Under normal circumstances, Eina would have had the same worries. However, she was privy to the Guild’s under-the-table deal with the Hestia Familia, which meant that it was less of a concern, because Moses had the full support and backing of what could, in many lights, be seen as the most powerful ‘Familia’ in all of Orario.

“Jeez, way to be a buzzkill, Sophie!”

“Yeah, don’t be such a downer!”

“But she’s got a point…”

“That’s true.”

“It’d be better not to get too attached, Eina.”

“Don’t respond to the love letter! It won’t end well for you.”

“It’s not a—” Eina rubbed her brows. “Just… never mind.”

It was a misunderstanding Eina could clear up, but she did not. Misha was fairly keen. If she cleared up the misunderstanding, the girl would ask about what that letter was and who had truly sent it to her. Misha was the type of girl who would badger her about a matter if it grabbed her interest long enough, and Eina was no masterful liar. Given the need for secrecy regarding the matter of the true nature of the deal between the Guild and the Hestia Familia, Eina could not quite tell her.

Besides, a minor, relatively harmless misunderstanding like this was far more manageable.

“Look alive, Eina. Guess who’s here?”

Eina snapped her attention towards the front of the guild, where a familiar blue-haired man was approaching. Early as it was in the morning, only the most earlybird adventurers were present to see him, and Moses Vanderzee drew the gazes of all of them as he approached, clad in that same kimono-top, with a staff in hand. However, the beard was certainly a new addition, one which had Eina blinking multiple times. Whispers traveled hither and thither across the guild, beginning from adventurers, who whispered amongst themselves, pointing, muttering, chatting, to members of the Guild itself.

Curiously, Eina noticed Moses Vanderzee was not alone.

There was, instead, by his side, a prum, carrying a comically oversized bag. A Supporter, by all appearances. One who wore a long hood to obscure her face and features, and seemed far less comfortable with the limelight than Moses Vanderzee did. Unlike Moses Vanderzee, who calmly strode through a sea of scrutinizing gazes, she almost shrank into herself. Moses Vanderzee was the one who held her hand, grabbing her forward, with a mischievous smile.

It made a sharp, noticeable contrast. Eina could not say if it was the lighting, or the newfound fame, or perhaps if he had always been that way, paradoxically confident in himself, while looking as weak and scrawny and helpless as he did, but there was something different about Moses Vanderzee as he entered the Guild today. There was an allure to him that Eina could have sworn had not been present before. An allure that had her gaze lingering a little longer. It took her a moment to snap out of it, only to find she was not the only one whose gaze had been lingering.

“Did he change something about himself from the last time he was here?”

“He grew a beard…I didn’t know a beard could make so much difference…”

“No, no, it can’t be the beard alone… why does he feel a bit more…”

“I didn’t see it last time… but he’s kind of easy on the eyes…”

“Though he’s still a bit scrawny… I don’t mind… You know what they say about skinny men…”

“Eina…” Misha, beside her, nudged her in the ribs with her elbow. “If you’re not interested in him. Or, if you don’t mind sharing—”

“Misha!” Eina’s face was red. “W-what’s come over you?!”

Misha wistfully landed her palm in her face. “Don’t tell me you can’t see it too?”

Eina could see it. Moses Vanderzee, before now, had never, by any means, been unattractive. He was average, plain, and beyond his striking eyes, there was nothing quite about him that stoked any flames of desire. Something about that had changed, and everyone could tell. Whatever it was that had changed was something that was outright impossible to put a finger on, something hard to point at specifically. Eina could only chalk it up to a change in his Status, literally and figuratively. 

Literally, as in, there was likely something in his Status which had changed, perhaps a skill of some sort had been attained, and figuratively, because he was no longer a no-name Adventurer, but arguably, currently the most famous Adventurer in Orario.

Even so, as he approached and her female coworkers in the Guild began to adjust their hair, check their appearance, and even make sure their make-up was properly done, Eina got a sneaking suspicion that this change was not… normal. There was a gut feeling that said something was afoot. The effects almost reminded her of an incredibly weaker reaction that people in the guild had to… her.

No, what am I thinking?

Eina instinctively dismissed the thought, almost laughing at herself for considering it. It was far too far-fetched to even consider. One was a Goddess of Beauty, and the other was just an Adventurer. There were Adventurers who were also attractive enough to cause such a stir in that regard, such as the Sword Princess, Aiz Wallenstein, who many even compared to being as beautiful as a Goddess. Yet, Aiz Wallenstein was purely human, one-hundred-percent, flesh and blood human. 

The only other explanation would be some sort of magic, but Eina also did not see that as possible.

Well, unless it's a skill, but I’ve never heard of any adventurer with a skill like that…

“Miss Eina.”

Moses stood in front of her. He smiled with his cheeks, his gaze lighting up in a way that had Eina immediately clearing her throat.

“M-Mr. Vanderzee. You’ve made… quite the name for yourself.”

“So it seems,” Moses chuckled. “I have you to thank.”

“Eh?” Eina blinked. “M-me?”

Her coworkers were all eavesdropping. All of them.

“Do you remember the words you told me when we spoke in private the other day?” Moses said. “They’re what convinced me of what needed to be done in the Dungeon.”

“Oh,” Eina recalled the conversation. She recalled the question. Miss Eina, is something good because the gods love it, or do the gods love something because it is good?

“I know I shouldn’t have asked you such a question. It went beyond the purview of, I think, your role as an Advisor. I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all,” Eina replied hastily.

“After what you told me, I decided I would have to change the Dungeon. Make it a safer place for people. Make it so people have fewer worries. Friends, families, Familia members… and even Advisors.”

“I-I see…” Eina slowly nodded. “I—I can’t take the credit for that, Mr. Vanderzee. All I did was give you an answer—”

“That answer was important to me. So, I have to thank you.”

Her coworkers were boring holes into her, and why that was, Eina could not tell. She hoped these girls weren’t misunderstanding something again.

“So, is there… Anything I can help you with today?”

“A few things, actually. First, I’d like to officially update my information.”

“I… beg your pardon?”

“I’m told it’s customary to inform the guild upon a Level Up?”

Eina’s pupils shrank. “You— you’re... You’ve…”

“Yes,” Moses smiled. “I’m Level 2.”

The Guild was so silent that one could have heard a monster spawn in the Dungeon. 

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

The Orario Gossip Mill was on fire.

The Sword Princess’s record had been broken. There was a new Adventurer, who had now claimed the fastest level-up in the history of the city. A new Record Holder. The same Adventurer who had already been an incredibly hot topic and a household name.

Moses Vanderzee.

If there was anyone living under a rock in Orario before now who had not already heard of him, now they were guaranteed to have heard his name. Rumors were spreading wildly, questions as to how a person could go from Level 1 to Level 2 in the span of a week, accusations of lies, cheating, and scams were tossed up and down.

The question on everyone’s lips was how?

How did he do it?

One prevailing theory, spread by disgruntled deities, claimed the result of his Level Up was that because he was ‘AFK Farming.’ It was a term the children did not understand, until it was broken down that his Campfires counted as his ability, which meant, at all times, all days, all hours, Moses Vanderzee was technically ‘killing monsters’ in the Dungeon.

Killing them by the dozens without end, it meant he could rise faster and quicker than anyone else. Said Gods called him a ‘cheat character’ and said it was not fair that while they had to grind, Hestia was playing an ‘idle-RPG.’ The rumors spread even further, claiming that even if Moses Vanderzee did not enter the Dungeon, as long as those campfires were there, he would accrue Excelia as if he were.

Many doubted the validity of such claims, pointing out that Moses Vanderzee, despite being an Adventurer for only one week, had only entered the Dungeon once, and even if one was generous enough to believe those campfires killed hundreds of monsters per day, it should not have been enough time to gather the needed Excelia for a Level Up. For such people, the prevalent theory was that Moses Vanderzee possessed a special hunting method, or that he had falsified information to the Guild about how long he had truly been an Adventurer to cash in on the fame.

Rumors were abundant, speculation was everywhere, and Orario had entered a ‘Moses-Fever,’ in which there was not a single person who could not stop talking about him.

Amongst these rumors was a set that reportedly came from a covert source in the Guild, which claimed Moses Vanderzee had set out to create those safe zones in the Dungeon, because he had been rejected by his Advisor. Word had it that, after confessing his love, she spoke of the uncertainty of the fate of Adventurers, and Moses Vanderzee, heartwrenched from that rejection, had set out to make the Dungeon a safer place for all with his skill, in hopes of changing her mind.

The Advisor in question was a young Half-Elf, known to be amongst the Guild’s most attractive members. The Half-Elf vehemently denied such rumors, saying that the entire thing was a misunderstanding and Moses Vanderzee had never given her any confessions of love. However, other sources reported Moses Vanderzee wrote encrypted love letters to this particular Advisor, who had not denied receiving them.

The rumors swept up even worse when Moses Vanderzee, having been asked why he set out to create those campfires, had reportedly answered, “For love.”

Tales were being sung already of his supposed motivations, men were filled with teary-eyed sentiment on hearing that rejection and love were the man’s motivation, and there was no shortage of women wishing to ‘soothe’ Moses Vanderzee’s heartbroken heart.

At the center of it all, having gone from near-relative obscurity to instant spotlight, was one Half-Elf, having a terrible, horrible, no-good, bad day.

Her name?

Eina Tulle.