After wrapping up his swordsmanship basics and heading back to the Familia base, Keyaru happened to run into The Hostess of Fertility's poster girl—Syr Flova.
For him, it was an unexpected detour.
He flashed Hestia as a shield and beat a quick retreat.
He knew how the original plot went; avoiding Syr could only help him. If he ended up in her sights, he'd be under constant surveillance in Orario. Just thinking about it felt suffocating.
"Starting tomorrow…"
"I can move into the training phase."
By moonlight, Keyaru finally reached the Familia base on South Main. He didn't go straight to the church basement. Staring at the cluster of abandoned buildings ahead, veiled as if in white gauze, he felt oddly moved.
What had happened to him was beyond "dreamlike."
Accept reality.
Get used to DanMachi's atmosphere and keep working toward becoming an adventurer—that was all he could do.
As he let his mind go blank, footsteps sounded behind him. He turned to see a girl in a white dress, yawning.
Hestia stretched lazily.
Petite build, but that perfect figure that even made a goddess (Loki) jealous was on full display.
She didn't say anything—just came over and sat quietly on the steps beside him.
"Lady Hestia."
Keyaru couldn't hide his surprise. Had she really been waiting here for him to come home?
"Didn't expect it, but the view's pretty nice at night," she said, totally relaxed as she gazed into the distance.
Maybe her shoes were a hassle. Hestia kicked off her slippers. Her skin was like milky white; her bare feet on the stone, toes clear as grapes, were lively and bright.
Suddenly, she asked:
"Keyaru, is something on your mind?"
"Yeah."
"Lord Takemikazuchi's practical pointers today were really detailed. Next comes training. I want to get into the Dungeon as soon as I can."
Keyaru talked freely. He could picture how dull the process would be. Only after thorough prep would he be taking responsibility for his own life in the Dungeon.
Hestia propped her chin on her hand. The starlight seemed to pool in her gentle eyes. "Anything else?"
"No."
"Then why are you… sitting out here at the door in the middle of the night instead of going home?" She arched a brow.
That one stumped him.
He looked at Hestia—first taking in that slightly babyish, stunningly cute face. Because of his angle, his gaze couldn't help dropping to the very un-childlike line of her cleavage.
"Is that something I can say?"
"Why couldn't you?"
"I want to treat you as a goddess, Lady Hestia—but my rational side says I can't," he said evenly.
He wasn't so repressed he called every girl "Mom," but could anyone live calmly when sharing a home with a girl who'd only ever existed in fantasies?
Keyaru didn't consider himself a saint.
Seeing her puzzled look, he decided to just rip off the bandage:
"And… living together feels a little weird. After all, Lady Hestia is, well, the opposite sex to me."
"…!"
She turned her head away, but a flush rose unbidden in her pale cheeks. Even after ages as a goddess, keeping her distance from male deities, she understood exactly what he meant:
Unable to see her as a remote goddess—instead seeing her as someone he could pursue?
Flustered yet curious, Hestia asked, "Why… do you feel that way?"
"Because…"
"Because… I think Lady Hestia is very cute!"
—
There was no dramatic set piece. Blindsided by a point-blank confession, Hestia's brain bluescreened. Only when Keyaru reminded her it was about time to turn in did she come back to herself, slipping into her slippers and hurrying after him.
Feelings are best handled step by step. A casual tease now and then plants seeds that will one day grow into towering trees.
The next morning.
Keyaru slept until he woke naturally. In his young, energetic body, it felt like he had endless stamina to burn.
Hestia was nowhere in the basement. On the table lay a sheet of parchment held down by valis.
He picked it up and read her note:
"I have other things to take care of today, so I won't be back for now. I left lunch money here for you."
At the end was a slightly wobbly heart she'd drawn with a quill.
"So this is what living off a cute goddess feels like…"
Keyaru had never experienced anything like it. As for Hestia's "things to take care of," remembering the gear she'd prepared yesterday, he put two and two together.
Could it be…
She'd bought that gear on credit and was working to pay it off?
"If that's true… then the source of the gear makes sense. If even Hestia's buckling down, I've got no excuse to laze around."
He gathered his thoughts. After a quick wash, he headed to the open space inside the abandoned church. For practice he used the fine-steel one-hander Hestia had gotten him.
He replayed Takemikazuchi's lesson and decided to start from the basic offensive forms.
Mindless repetition.
It's the most effective way to build muscle memory. There's no "proficiency system" like in web novels; all he could do was—
Pay it back with twice the sweat and effort.
"Get the feel of the sword…"
He gripped the hilt with both hands and ran through the full set of basics from memory:
Cuts, chops, thrusts, lifts…
He was clumsy at first, body still stiff. But after a few rounds, his movements grew coordinated.
As the drills went on, every full-power swing laid groundwork for the Dungeon. The morning air was still cool, but the hard work soaked his back with sweat; he lost track of how many sets he'd done.
The results showed.
In the grind of repetition, he began to grasp what Takemikazuchi meant by "sword feel."
"So…"
"Know your weapon. Find the most suitable attack for the environment. Increase control over the blade."
"Avoid losing your grip or warping your form in combat…"
"Make full use of the weapon's strengths—blend them into the basic forms—to maximize damage!"
With that insight, he found fresh motivation in the tedium. After a drink of water, he dove back into basics.
There were no system cheats to shortcut the path.
But Keyaru knew that only sweat you've really shed becomes yours to keep.
"If I put in a hundred times the effort like Koby… won't I just take off?"
—A salute to the legendary Marine "King" Koby.