"So," Zald said, voice low and steady, "you fainted for some unknown reason, the old man and Bell found you by the roadside, and he took you in. That's the story."
After Duncan's brief explanation, Zald gave a near-imperceptible nod. There were plenty of gaps—too many things left conveniently vague—but he didn't call them out. Two strangers suddenly appearing in the wilderness? Even Zald wouldn't expect a full confession.
And frankly, based on what he knew of their god… Zeus was not the type to "kindly rescue" some random boy out of pure compassion.
Yet Bell hadn't objected.
With Bell's personality, lying and deliberate concealment were skills he simply hadn't learned yet. If the child wasn't contradicting Duncan's account, then the story had at least a baseline of credibility.
"Alfia," Zald called once, turning his head.
No response.
From the moment she stepped into the cabin, her gaze had never left Bell—fixed and absolute, as though the rest of the room didn't exist. Zald sighed, looking faintly tired.
"Fine," he muttered. "We'll talk outside. Let the two of them speak."
He didn't give Duncan a chance to refuse.
Zald grabbed him like a chicken by the scruff and carried him out the door.
Once outside, he set Duncan down and spoke with calm bluntness.
"I don't care what you're trying to hide. But I do want to know this: why does Bell know nothing… while you seem to know too much?"
His sightless eyes didn't focus, yet Duncan could feel the weight of attention pressing directly onto him.
"I don't know why the—why the old man keeps Bell in the dark," Duncan said, choosing his words carefully. "He told me to call him Ben Cranel. Ever since I woke up, my senses have been sharper than before. That's how I noticed he's… different."
It was half-truth, half dodge.
Zald clicked his tongue. "Tch. What scheme is that old bastard running now… and he's not even here when it matters."
He looked genuinely annoyed for the first time.
Duncan hesitated, then offered what seemed like the simplest explanation—because it was also the most damning.
"…Could it be he knew you were coming and deliberately avoided you? We still have plenty of flour and food at home."
"..."
Zald went silent.
It was very possible.
In fact, the more Duncan said it, the more it felt correct. If Zeus truly wanted to hide, then even Zald and Alfia—people like them—might never find him. That old man had evaded Hera herself more than once.
Zald's face darkened further at the thought.
Seizing the moment while Zald was quiet, Duncan finally asked what had been bothering him since they arrived.
"Um… what exactly is your relationship with Bell?"
"I told you," Zald said. "I'm from the old man's Familia. And Alfia is Bell's mother's older sister—so she's his—"
From inside the cabin, a cold voice cut through the wall.
"Alfia."
Zald's entire body twitched.
He forced a bitter smile. Even with the door closed, she could still hear everything. That alone told Duncan more than any introduction ever could.
Zald pushed the door open with a resigned sigh and stepped back inside.
Alfia was seated in the main spot, expression empty and sharp. Her attention was still on Bell.
"What do we do now?" Zald asked, voice a touch helpless.
Alfia answered without even glancing at him.
"His heartbeat is steady. He wasn't lying. He hid some things, but the important parts were true."
Then her gaze turned slightly colder—aimed past Duncan, toward the place Zeus would eventually return to.
"The important question is why the old man had the nerve to leave two children alone in a place like this, without teaching them anything, without telling Bell anything."
Her tone didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"When he comes back," she continued, flatly, "I'm going to make him taste the Gospel."
Zald coughed once, almost choking on his own breath.
"…That might be exactly why the old man ran."
Alfia's head tilted a fraction.
"Hm?"
"…Nothing," Zald said immediately, hands raised in surrender.
Then he tried to steer the conversation somewhere practical.
"But if he did know we were coming, sitting here waiting like idiots isn't going to help. What's the plan?"
"Do you have anywhere else to go?" Alfia replied, as if the question itself were strange. "I've decided to die here."
Duncan's eyes flicked down.
Bell was asleep—soundly—his head resting on Alfia's thigh like it belonged there. On his forehead was a swollen lump.
A very clear lump.
Duncan had no idea what was said between them, but Bell had obviously been put to sleep the hard way.
Alfia's fingers moved slowly, gently, stroking Bell's soft cheek. Her voice remained light—but the resolve inside it was unmistakable.
She meant it.
She truly planned to die here.
"Alfia…" Zald began.
"Zald," she cut him off, and for the first time since their meeting she opened those gem-like mismatched eyes fully. A rare softness surfaced, and then—a faint smile.
It was the first time Duncan had seen her smile at all, and it was beautiful in a way that hurt.
"If you still have somewhere you want to go, go now. I'm tired. Being able to see my sister's shadow again before I die… that's enough. This is good."
Zald stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled as if finally setting down something heavy.
"…There's nowhere left that I want to go," he said quietly. "We've walked together for so many years. If you're staying here, then I'll stay too."
His mouth curved into a small, relieved grin.
"Besides—you lost our bet. Next time, you're buying me a drink."
Alfia's expression didn't change much, but her eyes sharpened slightly.
"Zald. You're the last of our Familia and you're still stingy about alcohol?"
"Of course," Zald said with absolute seriousness. "A drink someone else buys always tastes best."
He unstrapped the black-and-red greatsword from his back and placed it in the corner, then began removing his armor piece by piece.
Duncan watched in silence.
They didn't say much, but the weight behind their words was obvious—years of shared battles, shared sins, and a past so tangled it could barely be spoken aloud.
Then—
Both of them turned their heads at the same time.
Their eyes—one pair ruined, one pair jewel-bright—fixed on the same corner of the cabin as if they could see through the wooden wall.
Zald tugged at his beard, genuinely surprised.
"Well, this is rare," he murmured. "The old man isn't trying to hide? Was he actually just buying supplies… and not running from us?"
"No matter," Alfia said coolly, standing without disturbing Bell. "This time, we grab him and make him explain. He's not escaping again."
"Relax," Zald replied, his voice confident. "If he's already this close, it means he isn't running. And once he's in range—he won't get another chance."
Duncan's stomach tightened.
He couldn't see anything—yet from their reactions, it was obvious they'd sensed Zeus returning.
Sure enough, five minutes later a commotion sounded outside. Heavy footsteps approached, and Zeus pushed open the door and stepped in.
He paused for half a beat when he saw the two "guests," but he didn't look shocked. He simply tossed his hat aside like it was nothing.
"Since you're here," Zeus said lazily, "help me unload. This trip about broke my old back."
Alfia's gaze pinned him in place like a blade.
"Before that," she said, voice icy, "you will explain why you left two children alone here—without teaching them anything, and without telling Bell anything."
Zald hesitated, then sighed, clearly unwilling to act as mediator between the two. He stepped back as if to say, this is your funeral.
Zeus grimaced.
"You start with the bill the second I walk in? This is why I hate the Hera Familia—every single one of you is a crazy old—"
He didn't finish.
Zeus threw both hands up in front of his chest on pure instinct.
The next instant, a soundless wave—like pressure itself made violent—flooded the cabin.
Zeus's massive body was launched backward as if he were a kite caught in a storm, flying out the door.
Everything in the cabin trembled.
But nothing broke.
Duncan felt it as a fierce gust that punched through his skull. The world spun, nausea roaring up from his stomach. His vision smeared.
Right before consciousness snapped—
He heard Zald's shout.
And then, a voice that clearly belonged to none of them.
"Host life in danger detected. Dungeon Commerce is at your service. May every day bring you a new encounter."
Duncan's last coherent thought, strangely, was almost dry:
…So the god who threw me here is the type who reads web novels.
-------
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