Pale morning sunlight slipped through the cracks in the ruined church roof, but it wasn't the warmth of the light that roused Venti from his deep slumber.
It was a scent.
The aroma of savory broth, blended with the fragrance of wild spices and toast slightly charred at the edges. For Venti, who had been accustomed to the scent of apples and wine for thousands of years, the smell of home-cooked food held a magical allure stronger than any charm spell.
"Mmm..."
Venti stretched on the church pew, his nose twitching like a rabbit. "Is this the scent of paradise? Or am I still dreaming that I'm in the Good Hunter's kitchen?"
He opened one eye. The view before him wasn't the bustling Mondstadt restaurant, but the gloomy interior of a stone church. However, in one corner that had been cleared out, a makeshift hearth was burning warmly.
Alfia stood there.
The Monster of the Hera Familia, whose very name could make veteran adventurers tremble in fear, was now wearing a dull apron she had found heaven knows where. Her hands, usually employed to unleash the destructive magic of Gospel, were now cutting vegetables with an old kitchen knife—awkwardly, yet with deadly precision.
"You're finally up, Lazy God?" Alfia asked without turning around, as if she had eyes in the back of her head.
"Sweet compliments in the morning," Venti chuckled, hopping off the bench and floating closer. "I didn't know you could cook, Alfia. I thought your talents were limited to shattering people's eardrums."
Alfia snorted, tossing sliced carrots into the pot. "In the Hera Familia, we had our own army of chefs. I never touched a pot in my life. But..." She glanced toward Meteria, who was sitting near the window folding a blanket, looking much fresher than yesterday. "Meteria needs nutrition. And you... you don't look like someone who can be relied upon for logistics."
"Hey! I'm good at picking apples, you know!" Venti protested, his eyes sweeping over the room, which now looked far more habitable.
There was a strange sense of domesticity here. In the middle of an Orario still bleeding from the defeat of Zeus and Hera, inside a forgotten old church, a small, dysfunctional family was forming.
Venti sat on a rickety wooden table, swinging his legs. Suddenly, a question crossed his mind. A question that had been bothering him since he analyzed Alfia's power yesterday.
"By the way, Alfia," Venti began, his tone shifting to something slightly more serious, though still casual. "About Zald."
Alfia's hand, currently stirring the soup, paused for a moment.
"What about him?"
"I read... ah, I mean, the wind told me," Venti corrected quickly. "Zald the Gluttony. He's as strong as you, isn't he? Why isn't he here? It's a shame, really. I planned to recruit him too. Imagine, the strongest Tank and the strongest Mage. My job as a God would be a breeze."
Alfia fell silent for a moment, staring into the swirling, boiling soup. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, the shadow of a painful farewell.
"He left," Alfia answered quietly. "After that defeat... after the Captain fell and the Familia was destroyed... Zald felt he had no place left. He was also dying, just like me. He chose to leave Orario with the remaining members of the Zeus Familia. Perhaps to find a quiet place to die, or perhaps to plan something foolish."
"Ah... I see," Venti sighed deeply, the disappointment clear in his voice. "A loss of great potential. If he were here, I could have fixed his body too. Well, fate certainly loves to play jokes."
"Don't be greedy, Venti," Alfia scolded, returning to stirring the soup. "You've already acquired two former members of Hera. That alone is enough to give the other gods in Orario a heart attack if they found out."
"Ehe! True enough."
Venti hopped down as Alfia poured soup into wooden bowls. Meteria joined them, a gentle smile gracing her face.
"Let's eat!"
The first spoonful entered Venti's mouth. His eyes widened.
"Wow..." he murmured. "This... tastes..."
"Bad?" Alfia asked defensively, her eyebrows dipping sharply. "If it's gross, just throw it away. I'm just learning."
"No!" Venti shook his head vigorously, eagerly scooping up more. "It's delicious! Simple, but warm. It tastes like... home. You have a hidden talent, Alfia. Maybe we should change your title from 'Silence' to 'Kitchen Witch'."
Alfia's face reddened slightly, whether from the steam or the compliment. "Just eat your soup before I stuff it down your throat with magic."
However, Venti noticed the corner of Alfia's lips lifting. Initially, Alfia had cooked out of necessity. But as the days passed, the act of chopping, stirring, and mixing spices became a form of therapy for her. It was the only thing where she created something, rather than destroying it.
Time in the old church passed in a strange way. Outside, Orario was in turmoil. Evilus was baring its fangs, the Freya and Loki factions were scrambling for power, and the Guild was caught in a whirlwind of headaches.
But within these walls, time seemed to flow backward.
One month passed quickly.
Their routine had solidified. Mornings began with Alfia's cooking, which grew more delicious by the day. Afternoons were filled with special therapy sessions led by Venti. And the nights ended with Venti's songs, lulling Meteria and the baby in her womb to sleep.
Meteria's condition showed progress that any healer in Orario would call a miracle.
In the church's backyard, hidden by tall grass, Venti sat cross-legged on a rock, plucking Der Frühling. Alfia and Meteria sat before him, eyes closed.
This wasn't just music. Venti was using his Arcanum of Song and Time simultaneously. He wove mana into the air, creating a resonance that slipped into the very cells of the two women's bodies.
For Meteria, Venti rewound the time of her organs. He couldn't heal her instantly because her body was too weak to withstand drastic changes. So, he did it slowly. Little by little, her damaged lungs returned to their condition from a month ago, then two months ago.
"Breathe in, Meteria," Venti instructed softly between strums of his lyre.
Meteria inhaled deeply. There was no stabbing pain. Her face, once pale as a corpse, now held a healthy pink flush.
"How does it feel?" Venti asked, pausing the music.
"Incredible," Meteria opened her eyes, staring at her own hands. "I feel... strong. I could even walk around the church ten times without getting out of breath."
"Good. Your progress is very stable," Venti nodded with satisfaction. "My estimate is that in six months to a year, your acute condition will vanish completely. You'll be able to give birth safely and live a normal life, though you still shouldn't engage in excessive physical activity."
Meteria's eyes welled up. The hope of seeing her child grow up was no longer an empty dream.
Venti then turned to Alfia.
"And you, Miss Silence."
Alfia's condition was far more complex. Her illness was a curse born of her own talent. Her Mana was too vast, her voice too powerful, to the point where her own body couldn't contain it.
"Our 'Harmony' therapy is starting to show results," Venti explained. "I've realigned the flow of Ichor and Mana in your body to attune with the song of life, not death. The pain when you use magic should have decreased by 30%."
Alfia clenched her fist, feeling the flow of power within her. Before, every heartbeat felt like a needle prick. Now, it felt like a dull throb that could be ignored.
"How long until I'm fully cured?" Alfia asked.
"Three to five years," Venti answered honestly. "Your damage is chronic, Alfia. We have to dismantle and rebuild your body's foundation slowly. But you will heal. I promise."
Alfia nodded. Five years was nothing compared to the death sentence she had previously accepted.
"Thank you, Venti," Alfia said sincerely.
"Ehe! Save your thanks," Venti grinned, then his face shifted into a dramatically pitiful expression. "Because now we have to talk about a very, very serious problem."
The atmosphere suddenly tensed. Meteria held Alfia's hand. Was there a side effect? Was danger approaching?
"What problem?" Alfia asked warily.
Venti stood up, reached into his trouser pockets, and pulled the empty linings out.
"Money!" Venti cried tragically. "We are broke! Food stocks are running low! Spice supplies are gone! And worst of all... I haven't had wine in three days! Three days, Alfia! The worms in my stomach are staging a protest!"
Alfia stared at Venti with a flat gaze. The tension in her shoulders vanished instantly, replaced by exhaustion from dealing with her god's antics.
"So, you want to send me to the Dungeon again?" Alfia asked coldly.
"Of course! It's the fastest source of money!" Venti pointed toward the Tower of Babel looming in the distance. "You're Level 7! You could sneeze on the 18th floor and monsters would drop magic crystals worth millions of Valis. Come on, Alfia. For your nephew's future! For formula milk! For your god's wine!"
"No," Alfia answered firmly.
"Why?!" Venti whined, rolling around in the grass like a child denied candy. "I need capital! We need to fix the church roof! We need to buy baby clothes! We need..."
"Venti, stop. You're embarrassing," Alfia cut him off.
The silver-haired woman reached into the pocket of her dress. With a casual motion, she pulled out a gold card bearing the Guild emblem and flicked it toward Venti.
The card flew through the air and landed smack on Venti's forehead.
"Ouch!" Venti rubbed his forehead and picked up the card. "What is this? A library membership card?"
"It's a Guild account access card," Alfia stood up, brushing dust from her skirt. "I transferred it to the Barbatos Familia's name yesterday while you were busy napping."
Venti flipped the card over. He channeled a tiny bit of mana to check the balance or monthly withdrawal limit.
The Anemo Archon's teal eyes bulged.
He rubbed his eyes. Then looked again.
The number didn't change.
"Two... Twen..." Venti stammered. His voice pitched high. "TWENTY MILLION VALIS?!"
Meteria giggled at Venti's expression; he looked as if he had just seen a ghost.
"That's the monthly allowance," Alfia explained in a bored tone, as if discussing the price of a packet of salt. "Use that for this month. Don't spend it all in one night getting drunk."
Venti's jaw hit the ground. "Monthly... allowance? You mean, you have this much money coming in every month?"
"That is the standard pocket money for a Hera Familia executive," Alfia replied casually. "When we destroyed other Familias or conquered deep floors, the loot split was... decent. I never used it because the Familia took care of all my needs. So, my savings piled up for years."
Venti stared at the card in his hand with trembling fingers. He felt like a beggar who had just been handed the key to the royal treasury.
In Mondstadt, he had to sing all day for a single bottle of wine. Here? He had just become an instant billionaire simply by recruiting one member.
"Hera Familia..." Venti murmured in awe and terror. "You guys really were monsters, in every sense of the word."
"My focus now is Meteria," Alfia walked over to her sister and helped her stand. "I'm not leaving her side to go into that filthy Dungeon just for spare change. As long as my savings last, we don't need to work."
Alfia turned to Venti, giving him a sharp warning glare.
"So, Venti. Buy decent food. Fix this church roof so it doesn't leak. And buy Meteria the softest blanket in Orario."
"And wine?" Venti asked hopefully.
Alfia sighed heavily, then smiled faintly. "Up to you. Just don't vomit in front of Meteria."
Venti jumped up, kissing the gold card affectionately.
"Alfia, you're not just the best chef. You are the true Goddess of Fortune! Ah, forget Tyche, forget Lakshmi! Alfia is my new goddess of prosperity!"
With fiery enthusiasm, Venti sprinted toward the church doors.
"I'm going shopping! Don't miss me! Dinner tonight is going to be fancy!"
A strong gust of wind accompanied the little god's departure, carrying with it happy laughter that echoed through the halls of the old church.
Behind him, Alfia and Meteria looked at each other.
"He's so noisy," Alfia complained, though there was no annoyance in her voice.
"But he brought us back to life, Alfia," Meteria smiled, stroking her slightly swelling belly. "It feels like... the future isn't scary anymore."
Alfia stared at Venti's retreating back. Yes, she thought. This strange god has turned our destiny of death into a warm comedy of life. And for the first time since the fall of the Hera Familia, Alfia felt that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be alright.
However, beneath that joy, Alfia knew that peace in Orario was a fragile thing.
Twenty million Valis might buy comfort, but it couldn't buy safety from the spies hiding in the darkness.
Sooner or later, the world would know that the 'Silence' of the Hera Familia was still alive. And when that day came, Alfia swore she would be ready.
Not as a monster of destruction, but as the protector of this small family.