Aeron stood atop the gleaming marble roof of the Aeternum Emporium, watching Orario wake beneath him. The sun spilled a soft orange glow over the rooftops, brushing across chimneys, stonework, market stalls, and the towering blue shadow of Babel.
The city looked alive, ready to burst open with chatter, ambition, and secrets.
Wind swept through his silver hair. For a moment, he felt the weightless stillness that came just before a storm in a world he didn't belong to.
A week until the story begins.
A week until Bell Cranel enters the Dungeon properly.
A week until the gods truly take notice.
And already, Orario's equilibrium was shifting—just because he'd arrived.
Aeron smiled faintly.
"Let's see what today brings."
He stepped off the roof and drifted downward, invisible to anyone who might look up, landing silently inside the Emporium's upper hallway.
---
The Morning Rush — And His Employee
By the time he reached the main floor, his employees were already preparing the store for the morning crowds. Shelves gleamed. Armor racks shimmered. Potion stands radiated subtle light.
His chosen employee—the one who would eventually become one of his love interests—was already waiting for him near the back counter.
Her name was Liora.
A half-elf with warm amber eyes and reddish-blonde hair pulled elegantly over one shoulder. Graceful, intelligent, and sharp-tongued when she felt comfortable.
She bowed lightly. "Good morning, Mister Aeron."
Her voice carried a soft, melodic cadence—the kind of tone elves possessed naturally, though she lacked the full-blooded chill of Riveria or the crisp formality of the royal families.
Aeron tilted his head, smiling. "You're early."
"Someone has to make sure the others don't break the store before opening," Liora said dryly. "Clora nearly dropped a whole tray of potions when a customer complimented her yesterday."
"Ah," Aeron murmured. "The effect I have on people."
Liora's lips twitched. "So modest."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You aren't immune either."
Her breath caught just slightly.
Not fear.
Not discomfort.
Just intense awareness.
"…I never said I was immune," she murmured.
Aeron let that settle between them—warm, subtle tension—before stepping past her.
"We should prepare," he said. "Today will be busier than yesterday."
Liora followed him, heart beating faster than she wanted him to hear.
---
The Emporium Opens — And the City Floods In
The moment the doors opened, customers poured in with the same force as Dungeon monsters spilling from walls.
Adventurers. Nobles. Gods. Smiths. Merchants. Curious wanderers. Flustered tourists.
And several sentient gazes that watched Aeron like he was a rare artifact.
Liora managed the counter with elegant ease, handling coin, orders, and questions effortlessly. Aeron observed her from the second-floor balcony, impressed.
She was calm in ways even he hadn't expected.
And she had noticed him watching—her amber eyes flicking upward before she quickly looked away, flustered.
Aeron smiled privately.
---
The Guild Sends Their Red-Haired Renard: Rose Fannett
A soft bell chimed at the entrance.
Aeron sensed her before he saw her—sharp footsteps, a steady heartbeat, controlled breathing.
Rose Fannett walked into the Emporium with crisp posture and the calm confidence of someone who wrangled adventurers for a living.
Her red hair was tied neatly, fox ears twitching slightly as she scanned the interior with professional precision. Her tail, hidden beneath her uniform, flicked once.
Aeron descended the stairs to greet her.
"Rose Fannett," he said, voice gentle. "The Guild's strongest disciplinarian. To what do I owe the visit?"
Her ears twitched once—surprise.
"You know me."
"I make it a point to know interesting people."
A faint blush colored the edges of her cheeks, quickly smothered by her usual stern expression.
"I'm here to inspect your shop," she said. "The Guild has received… reports."
"What kind of reports?" Aeron asked with a teasing lilt.
"That your merchandise is too high-quality. That your prices are destabilizing the market. That your building violated twelve sub-regulations about construction permits. And that you flirt too casually for an elf."
Aeron blinked.
Then smiled slowly.
"I plead guilty only to the last accusation."
Rose's ears snapped straight up, then flattened in embarrassment as she steadied herself.
"A-as I was saying," she continued, tone slightly strangled, "the Guild requires a formal evaluation."
"Then evaluate anything you like," Aeron said, stepping aside. "The Emporium is open to you."
Rose began inspecting the shelves, her tail occasionally flicking out of her skirt as she leaned down or reached up.
Aeron noticed everything.
Without staring.
Without making her uncomfortable.
And that only made her more aware of him.
At one point, Rose held up a swiftness potion and said:
"This level of purity… it's almost alchemical perfection. Where did you learn to brew like this?"
Aeron smiled softly. "Trade secret."
Rose frowned. "Trade secrets don't produce miracles."
"Ah," he murmured. "But sometimes they do."
Rose's ears lowered in frustration—but her eyes flicked toward him again and again, the confusion turning into intrigue.
"You're hiding something," she said finally.
Aeron leaned slightly closer. "Of course."
"And you're not going to tell me."
"Not unless you ask nicely."
Rose's heart skipped. She took a step back, tail puffing for half a second.
"I—I'll report my findings to the Guild."
Her voice shook.
Barely.
"Please do," Aeron said gently. "And visit whenever you like."
Rose left with stiff steps—fighting the urge to look back.
She failed, glancing over her shoulder just before the door closed.
Aeron caught her eyes.
Her ears turned red.
---
Riveria Arrives — And the Air Tightens
The moment Rose left, another presence approached.
Aeron recognized it instantly.
Precise footsteps. Measured breath. A faint aura that pulsed like polished jade.
Riveria entered the Emporium with a regal stride, cloak flowing behind her. Her emerald eyes scanned the interior with scholarly scrutiny.
She saw Aeron immediately.
Their gazes locked.
A faint, almost imperceptible tension pulsed through the air—two elves sizing each other up, drawn together by something neither fully admitted.
"Riveria," Aeron said softly.
She stopped in front of him, posture perfectly straight. "I see your store grows busier each day."
"You say that like it's my fault."
She exhaled slightly—something close to a laugh, though she'd never admit it. "I spoke with Aiz."
"Oh?"
"She told me you trained her last night."
"She asked," Aeron said with a shrug. "So I obliged."
Riveria's eyes narrowed slightly. "You have no formal training tradition, no Familia, no documented combat experience, yet she claims your guidance was… effective."
"She learns quickly."
Riveria stepped closer, voice lowering in curiosity.
Too curious.
Almost personal.
"What are you, Aeron?"
He leaned in slightly. "If you find out, let me know."
Her stuttered breath was tiny—but real.
Riveria's ears warmed. She hated that.
And Aeron knew she hated that.
She recovered gracefully. "You enjoy teasing me."
"Only because your reactions are charming."
"…A-Aeron."
Her voice wavered for the first time.
Aeron let the silence stretch—warm, charged—before pulling back.
"Would you like to see the new enchanted armguards?" he asked.
Riveria blinked—caught off guard by the sudden normal tone.
"…Yes," she said quietly. "I would."
---
Aiz Enters — And the Dynamic Changes
The chime sounded again.
Aiz Wallenstein walked into the Emporium—silent, composed, eyes sharp but curious.
The moment she saw Aeron, her expression softened almost imperceptibly.
"Aeron," she greeted.
Riveria tensed.
Just slightly.
"Aiz," Aeron replied with a warm tone.
She stepped closer. "Are we… continuing training?"
Aeron tilted his head. "If you want to."
"Yes."
Direct, almost urgent.
Riveria's eyes flicked between them, studying their interaction with growing interest—and a hint of unspoken emotion.
Aeron noticed.
He filed it away.
Aiz glanced at Riveria. "Um… Riveria?"
Riveria's expression returned to perfect neutrality. "I am only here to inspect the merchandise."
Aiz nodded, though her golden eyes flickered with quiet confusion.
---
Demeter Arrives — And The Mood Grows Warm and Heavy
Just when Aeron thought the morning couldn't grow more chaotic, he felt another aura approaching.
Warmth.
Growth.
Life.
A divine pulse soft and nurturing, yet heavy with latent power.
The doors opened—and Demeter stepped inside.
Her long, wavy chestnut hair flowed like harvest wheat. Her soft lavender eyes immediately caught several men staring and rendered them speechless. She carried herself with gentle confidence, hips swaying in a natural, mature rhythm.
She looked around the Emporium with fascination, then spotted Aeron—
And her lips curved into a warm, inviting smile.
"Aeron… the elf that everyone in Orario is whispering about."
Riveria subtly straightened.
Aiz blinked.
Liora paused behind the counter, staring.
Aeron stepped forward. "Lady Demeter. An honor."
"Oh, my dear," she murmured, voice dripping honey. "No need for such formality. I've been wanting to meet you."
She leaned in—close. Too close.
Her divine aura brushed against his skin like warm sunlight.
"I heard you've been quite… fruitful… for this city."
She glanced around the flourishing Emporium.
Aeron smiled. "I merely sell things."
Demeter let out a soft, amused breath.
"No, no, no. You do much more."
Her eyes softened.
"You bring abundance. Growth. Change."
She leaned even closer, voice dipping low.
"And I can sense potential in you. A great deal of it."
Riveria subtly stepped forward, as though placing herself in a defensive position without consciously realizing it.
Aiz watched the exchange carefully.
Liora's grip tightened on her clipboard.
Demeter noticed all of it.
And smiled knowingly.
"My, my… you've gathered quite a garden around you already."
Aeron gave a quiet laugh. "I don't cultivate anything."
"Oh," Demeter whispered, "but things bloom around you anyway."
Her gaze held his.
Long.
Warm.
Almost dangerously so.
This wasn't flirtation.
This was nature recognizing power.
---
The Gods Begin to Notice — A Gathering at Twilight
Hours later, after the store closed and crowds dispersed, whispers rolled through Orario's divine circles like distant thunder.
And as the sun set, a group of gods gathered inside a private upper lounge in the Hostess of Fertility.
Loki lounged lazily in a chair.
Freya sat elegantly, eyes gleaming silver.
Hephaestus leaned against the wall.
Hermes twirled a wine glass.
Demeter entered late—glowing with satisfaction.
Miach, Dian Cecht, Ganesha, Takemikazuchi, and even Apollo attended.
Aeron had become a topic too big to ignore.
Loki kicked her feet up. "All right, all right, let's talk about the shiny new elf shaking up the whole damn city."
Freya smiled. "His aura is unlike anything I've seen."
Hephaestus crossed her arms. "Everything he sells is impossible. Every piece of equipment defies enchanting logic."
Hermes grinned. "He's interesting. Very interesting."
Demeter chuckled softly. "That boy… he's special."
Loki groaned. "Of course you'd think that. He's pretty."
Demeter sipped her tea. "Pretty has nothing to do with it."
Freya leaned forward.
"Whoever he is… he's not normal."
Hephaestus nodded. "He may become a problem."
Hermes grinned. "Or a wonderful complication."
The gods drank.
Talked.
Argued.
All because one silver-haired elf opened a store.
---
Back at Aeternum — Aeron Begins Building a Secret Section
That night, long after the city had quieted, Aeron walked alone through the closed Emporium.
With a thought, he activated Creative Mode.
And the walls of the cellar peeled back silently.
Stone blocks materialized.
Staircases formed.
A secret underground level expanded beneath the Emporium—vast, reinforced, lit by enchanted lanterns.
This space had purpose:
A training chamber
A magical forge
A secret vault
A growing archive of rare materials
And a hidden observation room connected to the Dungeon
He worked calmly, efficiently, hands weaving structure from nothing.
Soon, the chamber stretched large enough to house a small Familia.
Aeron stepped back and admired the work.
"Good," he murmured. "I'll need this sooner than expected."
The Dungeon rumbled faintly beneath him—as if answering.