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A Devil In the Dungeon [Youjo Senki/Danmachi]

For Want Of A Bow New
[For Want Of A Bow]

"CHEERS!"

Tanya withheld a wince as the cheer rang out from the occupants of the table around her and was echoed by practically everyone in the Hostess of Fertility which, unfortunately, was packed wall to wall with what felt like every person who lived in Orario.

And, of course, a significant percentage of them were there specifically to see Tanya and pat her on the back for her victory. Or otherwise accuse her of cheating her way to it.

The silver lining to the situation, aside from the business that Mama Mia was receiving from her stay, was that the Loki Familia was also in attendance. And it was them who Tanya was currently using as a buffer for the rancorous crowd around her.

"Oh, come on!" Tiona protested, leaning over to peer at Tanya's still-full mug. "You've barely touched that! It's a party, you know? You beat a Level Two in front of the whole city!"

"I'm aware," Tanya replied evenly, holding the mug slightly away from herself as if it might leap up and bite her. "I was there."

"Then drink already!" Tiona insisted, her amber eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Or I'm gonna down that thing and order you something stronger."

"By all means," Tanya slid her drink slightly closer to the Amazon, instead grabbing a cup of water sitting next to a steaming roast. Tiona threw a frown her way but didn't hesitate to grab the tankard and down it in just three gulps. She sighed happily, wiping froth from her lips, before letting out a small belch that drew a raised eyebrow from the Pallum sitting across from her.

"What's with the sour face? Cheer up kid, you did it!"

At the head of the table, Loki gave Tanya a grin so wide the former was worried her face might just split in two. Like everyone else present, the goddess was in high spirits, though if that was the alcohol or simply the party itself, Tanya had no clue.

The goddess slapped the table, pointing at Tanya. "I thought that show you put on at the banquet was gonna be the best thing I'd seen this week, but I gotta say, you really went above and beyond my expectations. Seeing you smack that smug look off of Apollo's face not once, but twice!? Priceless!"

Tanya inclined her head in acknowledgment, though she couldn't quite match the goddess's enthusiasm. "I appreciate the sentiment, but the terms of our agreement have not yet been ratified in any official capacity. Until they are, Apollo could still attempt to—"

"Oh, will you stop with the doom and gloom?" Loki interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "After that embarrassment? I'd be surprised if he even wants to look at you anymore, let alone claim you for his Familia."

She leaned forward, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You made him look like a fool in front of half the city, and the other half's hearing all about it as we speak. He won't want to touch the situation with a ten foot pole after the damage you've done to his reputation."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Tanya said slowly. "Apollo strikes me as the type to hold a grudge. A very long, very petty grudge."

"Let him hold it," Finn said from his place beside Loki. "He'd be a fool to try anything after today. The other gods saw his deception, and they won't soon forget it. Even if he wanted to come after you, he'll have a hard time finding allies willing to risk their own reputations."

"See?" Loki gestured toward her captain. "Even Finn agrees, and he's the cautious one. Now stop worrying and drink!"

She shoved a fresh tankard toward Tanya, the ale sloshing over the rim and pooling on the table. Tanya stared at it as if it were a live grenade, and slowly pushed away the spiced liquid.

"I don't really think—"

"That's the problem!" Loki declared. "You think too much! One drink won't kill you."

As if on cue, Syr appeared over Tanya's shoulder, placing a fresh tankard of spiced ale in front of her.

"On the house," she said with a knowing grin, before skipping off towards another patron before Tanya could get a word in.

Tanya stared at the tankard as if it had personally offended her. The ale sloshed gently against the sides, foam clinging to the rim in a way that reminded her of the dirty water they used to serve in the mess halls of the Rhine Front. The comparison did not fill her with confidence.

"I really don't think—" she began again, only to be cut off. Again.

"One drink!" Tiona insisted, slamming her hands on the table. "Just one! You just beat a Level Two in front

"She's right," Ais Wallenstein, the newest member of their group, spoke directly to Tanya for the first time tonight. "You fought well."

"She speaks! And she speaks truth!" Tiona threw her arm around Tanya who just barely tolerated the touch thanks to the knowledge that the woman was more than likely drunk at this point. "If Ais says you should drink, you drink!"

Tanya opened her mouth to offer another protest, but the words died on her lips as she took in the scene around her. The entire table was watching her, expressions ranging from encouraging to expectant. Even Finn had an interested smile on his face.

Tanya sighed, grabbing the drink.

One drink, she thought. It's not as if a single tankard will impair my thinking. And refusing at this point would be more trouble than it's worth.

Tanya lifted the tankard to her lips and took a sip, only to blink in surprise at the taste. She expected a bitter bite akin to whiskey or the acrid taste of beer, but instead she was pleasantly surprised at the flavor that slid across her tongue. The ale was smooth, with hints of honey and spice that mixed rather well with the warmth of the alcohol backing it all. It was almost like a cider, though not quite as sweet.

Tanya took two more sips before she remembered herself and put the drink down, but that little taste left her wanting more. She could see why people went broke filling their bellies with the beverage.

"She likes it!" Tiona cheered as she saw the expression on Tanya's face. Her words were accompanied by a raucous cheer, and Tanya started as she realized that even the nearby tables had been watching the scene intently, and were now cheering.

Loki raised her own tankard high, ale sloshing over the rim and onto the table below. She paid it no mind, her grin widening as she clambered onto her seat.

"A toast!" she bellowed, her voice carrying across the tavern with surprising ease. "To the girl who showed the whole city what happens when you cross someone who doesn't know how to lose!"

The cheer that erupted from the Loki Familia table was loud enough to rattle the glasses sitting on nearby surfaces. Tiona and Tione slammed their tankards together with enough force to send foam spraying across the table, earning an annoyed look from Bete who was sitting at one corner.

The cheer didn't stop at their table, quickly spreading like wildfire through the tavern, patrons rising from their seats and raising their own glasses in a wave of sound that crashed against the walls and echoed through the rafters. Tanya watched in bemusement as strangers called out, their faces flushed with alcohol and excitement.

"To Apollo who got his ass kicked by a little girl!"

"To the girl who fought like a demon!"

"Hah! More like a devil!"

"To the Little Devil!"

The last cry drew a particularly raucous response, and soon enough, the phrase was being chanted as if it was Tanya's name in and of itself.

Mama Mia came out from behind the bar, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement as she watched her establishment practically burst at the seams. She caught Tanya's eye across the room and raised an eyebrow, as if asking whether the girl was responsible for this chaos. Tanya could only offer a small shrug in response, though she'd admit to being dragged in by the mood.

"I suppose it won't hurt to participate," Tanya murmured to herself, lifting her tankard and taking another sip. "Just for tonight."

The night wore on, and Tanya found herself drawn into the festivities despite her best intentions. The Loki Familia were a boisterous bunch, but they were far from the most rancorous here. Tiona regaled her with tales of the Familia's adventures in the Dungeon, while Tione offered unsolicited advice on how to handle "creepy gods with grabby hands." Bete remained surly, but even he seemed to warm slightly as the evening progressed, if only because the alcohol had loosened his tongue.

Even Ais, who had been quiet for most of the evening, approached her once, her golden eyes fixed on Tanya's face. "You fight unconventionally."

Tanya raised an eyebrow. "I've had unconventional training."

Ais nodded slowly, as if this answer satisfied her completely. "I would like to see it again sometime."

Before Tanya could respond, the swordswoman had already turned and walked away, leaving her blinking in confusion. A strange girl, that one.

As the evening progressed, Tanya found her tankard refilled more times than she could count. The ale continued to surprise her with its pleasant flavor, and the warmth it brought was a welcome respite from the aches and pains still lingering from the duel. Her bruised cheek throbbed beneath the unflattering bruise, and the cut across her side had been bandaged, but both seemed distant concerns in the face of the merriment surrounding her.

And yet even as she laughed along with the others and raised her tankard in response to yet another toast, a small notion of sourness sat in the back of Tanya's mind. A note of regret, not for her victory, but for how she had achieved it.

She wondered after Licia and Dorian, the latter whose fate was all but unknown to her until yesterday, and the former who had been the one to reveal it. Both had been instrumental in her victory, but by letting loose as she had, she may have endangered them.

Tanya took another sip of her ale, the warmth doing little to dispel the cold knot forming in her stomach. She had revealed Dorian's survival in the heat of the moment, using it as a weapon to destabilize Asterin and expose Apollo's deception. It had been the right decision from a tactical point of view; the information had shifted the crowd's opinion and cast doubt on the entire narrative Apollo had constructed.

But in the aftermath, she couldn't help but wonder if the tactically sound move was the right one.

Licia had come to her in confidence, trembling and guilty, to share information that could easily be considered treason against her own god. And Tanya had weaponized it without a second thought, broadcasting it to half the city in the middle of a duel. Apollo would not forget that.

He'll be looking for scapegoats, Tanya thought. And Licia is the most obvious target.

She should have been more careful and found a way to use the information without revealing its source. But in the heat of battle, with Asterin's rapier flashing before her eyes and the crowd roaring in her ears, careful had taken a back seat to victory.

Another issue to add to the pile, Tanya thought bitterly. Though this one might cost more than my own hide.

"Hey!" Tiona's voice cut through her reverie, and Tanya looked up to find the Amazon leaning across the table with a concerned expression. "You okay? You look like someone just told you your puppy died."

"I don't own a puppy," Tanya replied automatically.

"Then what's with the long face?" Tiona asked.

"Another time," Tanya said in lieu of an actual response. Tiona pouted but didn't press, grabbing another drink and turning to talk to someone off to the side.

Tanya watched her for a moment before turning away, sitting back on her chair to watch the festivities.

She'd deal with it tomorrow. Tonight marked the first night of her debt-free life in this world. She may as well enjoy it instead of worrying.






The morning light was not kind to Tanya's head.

She strode down the main street with purpose, her boots clicking against the cobblestones in a rhythm that did wonders for her composure and absolutely nothing for the throbbing behind her eyes. The sun had barely crested the horizon and most of Orario's residents were still sleeping, blissfully unaware of the world outside their blankets.

Tanya envied them.

Note to self, she thought, pressing two fingers to her temple in a futile attempt to massage away the ache. Never again accept a drinking challenge from an Amazon. Their constitutions are frankly inhuman.

The festivities had continued well into the early hours of the morning, and Tanya had found herself swept along in the current of celebration whether she liked it or not. The Loki Familia knew how to party, and they were not the type to take no for an answer.

Still, she had no one to blame but herself. She had chosen to let loose, and now she was suffering the consequences.

"Hey! You're that girl, aren't you?" a voice called out from somewhere to her left.

Tanya turned to find a middle-aged man leaning out of a storefront, a broad grin splitting his weathered face. "The one who beat Apollo's adventurer! My wife and I were at the duel yesterday. That was quite something!"

"Thank you," Tanya replied politely, offering a small nod.

"You made that fool eat dirt!" another voice chimed in, this time from a woman sweeping her front steps. "Served him right, the way he tried to manipulate you!"

Tanya offered another polite nod, quickening her pace slightly.

She had hoped that the excitement from yesterday's duel would have died down overnight, but it seemed the citizens of Orario were not so easily distracted. It felt as if every other person she passed felt the need to offer their congratulations or commentary.

This had better not last long, she thought sourly. I can't go about my business with people stopping me at every turn.

It was with this pleasant thought that her eyes caught on a familiar sight parked along the side of the street. A small potato puff stand, with an even smaller woman standing behind the counter, humming to herself as she worked.

Tanya's stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything of substance since the previous evening. And salt, if memory served, was supposed to be good for hangovers.

She adjusted her course, making her way toward the cart. The woman looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, her eyes widening in recognition before a broad smile spread across her face.

"Hello! It's been quite a while, hasn't it!" the woman exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron. "It's good to see you up and about! I wasn't sure you would be, after yesterday's show."

Tanya blinked, momentarily stunned by her words. She knew the news was widespread, but she didn't expect to be recognized by a simple potato stand worker. Then again, she was pretty much the only person Tanya had interacted with outside the Hostess or the Guild, so it wasn't that farfetched.

"Thank you," Tanya said, offering a small nod. "I'm here to make good on my promise and actually buy a potato, this time. Extra salt, please."

The woman beamed, already reaching for her supplies. "Of course! Coming right up!"

Tanya watched as the woman expertly prepared the potato, the same deft movements she remembered from her first visit to this cart. The smell of fried oil and salt wafted through the air, making her stomach growl even louder. When the woman handed her the steaming potato on a small paper tray, Tanya had to resist the urge to stuff the entire thing in her mouth.

"Thank you," Tanya said, lifting the tray and taking a cautious bite, careful not to burn herself. The potato was hot and salty, the flavor blooming across her tongue in a way that made the throbbing in her head seem just a little more manageable. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste, before reaching into her pouch and placing a small stack of coins on the counter.

The woman glanced at the money, then did a double take. "Uh, isn't this too much? The price is right there on the sign."

"The extra is for the first one I took," Tanya said between bites.

The woman's expression shifted from surprise to something softer, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that! That potato was on the house, I told you—"

"Goddess!"

The exclamation cut through the morning air, bright and eager and entirely too loud for Tanya's current state. She paused mid-chew, turning alongside the woman to find a vaguely familiar boy approaching with quick strides. White hair caught the early morning light, framing a youthful face that was currently split into a wide, earnest smile. His red eyes were fixed not on Tanya, but on the woman behind the cart, sparkling with an almost painful amount of enthusiasm for so early in the morning.

"Goddess!" he called again, coming to a stop in front of the cart. "I've got good news!"

Tanya stared at him, before slowly turning to look at the woman who was beaming back at the boy.

"Bell!" the woman said, her smile practically splitting her face in half. "What is it?"

Bell vibrated with excitement as he launched into an explanation about something or other, but Tanya found her attention drifting, the words washing over her without sticking as she rolled that single word over in her mind again and again.

Goddess. He called her goddess. This woman, this lonely woman who stood on the side of the road selling fried potatoes for pocket change, was a god.

The very idea was absurd, and Tanya almost dismissed it out of hand, but she knew that there was no deceit here, because there was nothing to gain from deception in the first place.

Tanya was vaguely aware of the hierarchy of divine beings in this world, but she didn't realize their lows were this... Low.

Was she simply playing a role? Pretending to be one of the "common folk" for idle amusement?

Tanya discarded the idea the moment it crossed her mind. The woman seemed truly happy doing this, or at least content. There was only so much happiness one could fake, even in the customer service industry. Her smile came easily, and the way she spoke to Tanya—a girl she had met only once before—was as if greeting an old friend.

How could someone calling themselves a god really stoop so low as to be satisfied by a life like this?

Tanya tried to imagine Being X in the same position, and the image that surfaced was so ridiculous that she couldn't help herself. She laughed. It started as an amused snort but quickly escalated into something fuller. The idea of the self-satisfied, sanctimonious bastard standing behind a wooden cart, sleeves rolled up, frying potatoes for a pittance was simply too much.

Both Bell and the woman turned to stare at her, their conversation dying mid-sentence as they looked at her in concert.

Tanya coughed, bringing a hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to smother the laughter that continued to bubble up from her chest. The image of Being X wiping grease from his brow while hawking fried potatoes to passersby was simply too delightful to contain.

"I'm sorry," she managed, her voice strained with suppressed mirth. "I just remembered something amusing."

The goddess apparent tilted her head, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and concern. "Are you alright? You seem a bit..."

"I'm fine," Tanya said, waving a hand dismissively. "But I think it's time I get on my way again. Thank you for the potato. It was delicious, miss..."

"Hestia!" The woman chirped, and Tanya dug deep into her repository of mythological figures to come up with the name. Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth and Family in Greek mythology. How appropriate.

"Miss Hestia," Tanya repeated, inclining her head politely. "Thank you for the food. I'll be sure to visit again."

"You're welcome here any time!"

Tanya left the potato cart behind, her steps carrying her away from the bemused goddess and her enthusiastic follower before they could ask any more questions about her sudden outburst. The potato was as delicious as last time.

The streets grew quieter as she moved away from the main thoroughfare, the early hour keeping most of the city's residents indoors. Tanya's headache had subsided somewhat, the combination of salt and fresh air doing wonders for her constitution. She still felt slightly off-kilter, but it was nothing that simply being awake and aware couldn't overcome.

The Apollo Estate loomed ahead of her, its grand facade casting a long shadow across the street. Tanya slowed her pace as she approached, eyeing the open gates. The atmosphere was distinctly different to the last time she had visited the grand manor, subdued and almost somber compared to the feverish activity of the banquet or even the quiet bustle that she remembered during her first meeting with the god.

It was as if the estate itself was feeling the results of their god's humiliating defeat.

Tanya's lip curled despite herself as she strode through the open gates, her cloak swishing behind her like a grand cape. There were a pair of servants at the doors ahead, and they seemed to tense as they spied her but neither actually moved to stop her. Likely Apollo or someone else had told them to expect her.

Tanya approached the entrance, but was perhaps halfway to it when her journey was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out to her from nearby.

"Miss Degurechaff!"

Tanya slowed as a figure stepped forward, meeting her halfway to the steps to the estate. Adris Garsana stood with a clipboard clutched to her chest with one hand and a large smile on her face. The stocky woman was dressed the same as Tanya had last seen her, guild uniform worn proudly in the morning light.

Tanya's brow furrowed at the sight of the woman. "Good morning, Adris. I can't say I expected to see you here. What business could you possibly have with Apollo?"

Adris smiled, adjusting her grip on the clipboard. "I'm here on official business, actually. For the Guild. See, it's our duties to ensure that all contractual obligations between Familias and unaffiliated parties are upheld in accordance with city law. The terms of your duel were filed with the Guild by the required parties the evening before the event, and now that you've won, I'm here to make sure that Apollo is held to his end of the bargain."

"I don't recall filing any paperwork."

"Well someone did for you," Adris shrugged. "Several someones, actually. I'd know since I spent almost five hours going over the same contract written six different ways. Would you like a copy?"

"Yes, please."

Adris produced a folded sheaf of papers from her clipboard and handed them over. Tanya took them with interest, her eyes scanning the contents even as she continued walking toward the estate.

The document was surprisingly thorough, outlining the terms of the duel in exacting detail. The stakes were clearly defined: victory for Tanya meant the absolution of all debts and obligations owed to the Apollo Familia, while defeat would have resulted in her binding to said Familia. There were clauses covering disqualification, interference by third parties, and even a section dedicated to what constituted a lethal blow versus an incapacitating one.

Tanya's eyebrows rose as she read through the document. "This is remarkably comprehensive," she murmured, flipping to the final page where two signatures sat side by side. One was clearly Apollo's, rendered in an elegant script that seemed designed to show off. The other was unfamiliar, but she recognized the Guild seal beneath it.

"Like I said, several someones," Adris said with a hint of amusement. "The Guild takes these matters seriously. Contracts between gods have a tendency to escalate if not properly documented."

"I can imagine," Tanya replied dryly, leafing through the papers a second time. "Though I'll admit, I'm a bit frustrated that someone had to do this on my behalf."

If it wasn't for these good samaritans, there's a possibility that Apollo could have turned that entire event into even more of a circus than it already was, she mused, frustration painting her thoughts. The idea that her whole plan could have been undone by a spot of improperly filed paperwork irked her to no end, and made her wonder if she was truly losing her instincts when it came to navigating the trenches of bureaucracy.

"Do you mind if I keep this copy?" Tanya asked and Adris shrugged.

"I've got more. Do what you want with them."

Nodding, Tanya tucked the papers into her cloak with a mental note to review them more thoroughly later. Whatever her feelings about the situation, the documentation was sound, and that meant Apollo would have a much harder time wriggling out of his obligations.

"Shall we?" Adris gestured toward the estate doors, her expression shifting to something surprisingly businesslike. "I believe they're expecting us."

The servants parted as they approached, pulling the heavy doors open to reveal the grand foyer beyond. Tanya strode inside with Adris at her heels.

The interior of the Apollo Estate was just as opulent as she remembered from the banquet, all soaring columns and gilded fixtures and artwork that probably cost more than most adventurers made in a lifetime. But there was a certain heaviness to the air now, a stillness that hadn't been present during the festivities. The servants moved about their duties with hushed steps and downcast eyes, and none of the easy laughter that had filled these halls just days ago could be heard.

Even the help knows their master has been humiliated, Tanya thought, fighting a smirk.

Adris led the way through the estate and soon enough, they were stood in front of the ornate doors of Apollo's solarium. Hyakinthos was waiting for them, his arms pulled tightly behind his back and tension in every line of his posture. He stared daggers at Tanya as she approached, as if he wished to unsheathe his sword and strike her down on that very spot. But then his gaze slid to Adris, and his expression wilted.

He stepped to the side, opening the door and gesturing us inside. "He's waiting for you."

The room was just as Tanya remembered it, an overly-ostentatious monument to its creator. Soft light streamed in from the glass windows and the morning mist just outside had yet to fully evaporate yet, leaving the picture feeling almost somber compared to the last time Tanya had been present.

Apollo lounged across the same seat as before, though his entire bearing was much different. The god seemed... diminished. That was the only word Tanya could think of to describe him. His entire demeanor appeared as if someone had come and drained him of all the unbearable pride and enthusiasm that had made him so detestable to Tanya in the first place.

"A pleasure to see you again, Miss Degurechaff," Apollo said, his voice seeming almost flat. "And you as well, my dear attendant. I assume you are here as an officiator?"

"That's correct, Lord Apollo," Adris replied. "I'm here as an official representative of the Guild to witness the ratification of the terms agreed upon prior to the duel. All parties involved have signed the appropriate documentation, and it falls to me to ensure that those terms are upheld in full."

Apollo's lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile Tanya had seen from him since entering the room. "How thorough."

"Thank you, Lord Apollo."

Tanya stepped forward, making no move to sit in the chair that had been placed before her, preferring to stand and look down at Apollo from her full height. Which, admittedly, wasn't much, but the principle of the thing mattered.

"Let's dispense with the pleasantries," she said flatly. "We both know why I'm here. The terms of the duel were clear. I won. You lost. That means my debt to your Familia is absolved, and I am free of any further obligations to you or yours."

Apollo's fingers stopped their drumming. He leaned back, regarding her with dull eyes of burnished gold.

"Indeed," he said slowly. "The terms were clear. Your debt is absolved, and you are free to go about your business without interference from me or my Familia."

"Good." Tanya crossed her arms over her chest. "Then I trust there won't be any further attempts to manipulate me into joining your little cult?"

"You've been absolved of your debt, as we agreed upon," he said, and Tanya's brow furrowed at the non-answer. Most would see it as acceptance, but Tanya immediately saw through his words for the truth of the statement. Though the current business between them had been concluded, there was nothing stopping Apollo from pursuing her through other means.

"That wasn't what I asked," Tanya said, her voice hard. "I asked for assurances that you won't be seeking reprisal for my victory."

Apollo's expression didn't shift, but something flickered behind his eyes. "I have already agreed to the terms of the duel. Your debt is absolved. What more do you want?"

"I want a guarantee that you won't simply manufacture another excuse to hound me," Tanya replied flatly. "I would be a fool to walk out of here without some assurance that you won't be sending your people after me the moment my back is turned."

Apollo sneered. "You ask for quite a lot, little adventurer. First you humiliate me before the entire city, and now you demand promises s well?"

"You are remarkably stubborn," Tanya marveled. "You lost. Accept it gracefully and move on."

"And you are remarkably impudent," Apollo replied sharply. "You have already received what was agreed upon. Your debt is absolved, and you are free of any further obligation to me or my Familia. That should be enough."

Tanya's eyes narrowed, noting that Adris was being remarkably silent beside her. The man was technically speaking the truth in that he had no obligation to acquiesce to her demand, but he had to know that word of this would reach the proper ears and do him no favors in the public eye. Was he so incensed at her victory that all sense had been driven from between his ears?

Typical, she thought with a flash of irritation. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile, but god forbid you ask them to put anything in writing that might actually constrain them.

"Very well," Tanya said, shifting tactics. If Apollo refused to be pinned down on the matter of her own freedom, then perhaps she could approach this from a different angle. "Then let us discuss another matter."

Apollo raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the sudden shift in topic. "Oh? And what matter would that be?"

"Licia Dore and Dorian Vellius."

Apollo's expression flickered at the names.

"What about them?" He asked in a neutral tone.

"Licia Dore is a member of your Familia," Tanya said. "And Dorian Vellius was until very recently presumed dead, a fact that you conveniently used to manufacture a scenario that you then attempted to leverage into indentured servitude. We both know that Dorian is alive and being held somewhere in this estate."

The silence that followed was deafening. Adris shifted beside her, the half-dwarf's eyes darting between Tanya and Apollo with an expression of keen interest.

"That is a serious accusation," Apollo said slowly. "One that I would expect you to back up with evidence."

"I'd say the words of Licia herself are sufficient, and I revealed as much during the duel," Tanya replied evenly. "In front of half the city. I hardly think I need to provide additional evidence when the whispers are already circulating."

"Ah, but they are just that," Apollo said, his tone light. "Whispers and rumors. Nobody would dare put any stock into something said in the heat of the battle."

"I'm not one to let adrenaline override my common sense," Tanya said. "I said what I said with a clear head and whole heart. Even if my original desire was to throw Asterin off balance, that doesn't mean I was lying."

Apollo's gaze slid to Adris, and the half-dwarf met his look without flinching.

"The Guild takes a dim view of gods who falsify the deaths of their children for personal gain," Adris said mildly. "A very dim view."

Apollo's jaw tightened. For a moment, his composed mask slipped, and Tanya caught a glimpse of the cold fury beneath. He didn't expect this, and it was clear that he didn't know how to play the hand that he had suddenly been dealt.

Apollo didn't speak for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the distant chirping of birds outside the solarium windows. His golden eyes bore into Tanya with an intensity that would have made a lesser person flinch, but she met his gaze without wavering.

"You are playing a dangerous game," Apollo said at last. "I have already conceded the terms of our duel. My honor has been dragged through the mud for all of Orario to see. And now you come into my home, and make demands of me, before a Guild officiator no less?"

"I'm simply negotiating," Tanya replied in a mild tone that did well to hide her internal smugness. "No demands are being made here, only simple requests."

"Pretty words, but faced with your impudence, I fail to see the difference."

"The difference comes in that when both parties stand to benefit," Tanya said. "You want this matter to go away. The rumors are already circulating, and the longer Dorian remains hidden, the worse they'll get. And I very much doubt the Guild's interest in this matter will simply disappear because you wish it to."

She glanced at Adris, who gave a slight nod of confirmation.

"Accusations of falsifying a Familia member's death would warrant an investigation," Adris said. "The Guild takes any abuse of the Falna system seriously. If such an investigation were to uncover evidence of wrongdoing, the consequences could be severe, even for a Familia as prominent as yours, Lord Apollo."

Apollo's expression darkened further. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm a neutral party in these negotiations," Adris denied smoothly. "I'm simply advising you in this instance that you, like every other Familia in the city, must abide by Guild law."

Tanya momentarily marveled at the woman's ability to keep a straight face in this situation. In their previous meeting, Adris had struck her as the type to speak her mind regardless of the situation, yet here she was playing the part of a neutral officiator despite everything that she had heard thusfar.

I suppose the Guild didn't choose her at random, Tanya reasoned, before setting her mind back onto the topic at hand.

"The situation as it stands is untenable for you," Tanya spoke, drawing Apollo's eyes back to her. "Your reputation has already suffered a significant blow, and continued obfuscation will only make things worse. I'm not asking for much, simply an assurance that Licia and Dorian will not face reprisal for their roles in this affair. Licia told me the truth about Dorian's survival, and Dorian... well, I can't imagine he's particularly pleased with his current arrangement."

Apollo's lip curled. "And you know what my children want?"

"I assume that a man who was secreted away in his own home while his god told the city he was dead probably has some opinions on the matter," Tanya replied dryly. "But that's not my concern. My concern is ensuring that the people who helped me aren't punished for it, and to avoid being dragged into the debacle the situation will surely become should the Guild decide to pursue an actual investigation into the matter."

Apollo leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes studying her with an intensity that bordered on unsettling. Tanya held his gaze, refusing to look away even as the silence dragged on. She could practically see the calculations running behind his eyes, the weighing of costs and benefits, the slow grudging acceptance of a position that had become untenable.

"You ask for a great deal," Apollo said finally. "Assurances for members of my own Familia, promises that I will not seek retribution for the humiliation you have caused me. All of this, from a girl has nothing to offer in return."

"I have my silence," Tanya said. "And the silence of the Guild officiator standing beside me. Whatever agreement we reach here today stays between us and in whatever private records the Guild itself keeps."

Apollo's eyes narrowed. "You would have me believe that you would simply drop this matter? After everything I've done?"

"I'm pragmatic enough to take my victory and run with it," Tanya replied. "I may detest you in practically every way it is possible to detest another being, but I've no intent to go on a one-woman crusade against you and everything you stand for. I simply want to walk out of this estate with the assurance that this matter is concluded and that no one who helped me will suffer for it."

Apollo stared at her, taking a moment to weigh his options. His gaze passed between her and Adris, and his shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Very well," he finally said, his voice tight. "Licia and Dorian will face no reprisal for their roles in this affair. You have my word."

"I'd like that in writing," Tanya replied without missing a beat.

Apollo's eye twitched. "You'll get it," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll have it drawn up and sent to the Guild by the end of the day. Now get out of my home before I do something I regret."

Tanya inclined her head, satisfied with the concession. "A pleasure doing business with you, Lord Apollo."

The god didn't respond, his gaze fixed on some point beyond the window as if Tanya had already ceased to exist in his mind. She turned on her heel and strode toward the door, her cloak swishing behind her. Adris fell into step beside her, the half-dwarf's clipboard tucked under her arm and a distinctly amused expression on her face.

Hyakinthos was waiting at the entrance, his expression sour enough to curdle milk. He pulled the door open without a word, his gaze fixed firmly ahead as Tanya and Adris stepped past him and departed the estate.

The cool air was a welcome relief after the stifling atmosphere of the solarium. Tanya took a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs before exhaling slowly.

"Well, that was fun," Adris said, stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied groan. "I don't get to corner gods in their own homes very often. Kind of a thrill, honestly."

Her expression soured almost immediately, however, as she glanced down at her clipboard. "Ugh. The paperwork, on the other hand... You're a heap of trouble, you know that?"

Tanya raised an eyebrow at the shift in the woman's demeanor. "I fail to see how my actions have generated paperwork for you specifically. Isn't this a Guild matter?"

"It is," Adris agreed, flipping open her clipboard and eyeing the stack of papers within with undisguised dread. "But I'm your attendant which means any and all paperwork related to your various entanglements falls squarely on my desk."

She shot Tanya a look. "So do me a favor and stay out of trouble from now on, would you? An earful is going to be the least of your worries if you continue making my life harder."

"I… make no promises," Tanya replied, "but I'll endeavor to avoid unnecessary complications."

"That's about as much as I can hope for, I suppose." Adris sighed, tucking her clipboard under her arm. "Right then. I've got to head back to the Guild and start on this mountain of paperwork. Do me a favor and spend the next week or two not getting on a god's bad side, alright?"

"Given my track record, I feel like guaranteeing anything would be pointless," Tanya said, and Adris snorted before turning and heading in the direction of the Pantheon. Tanya watched her go for a moment before turning in the opposite direction.

She found herself smiling on her way back to the Hostess of Fertility, unable to contain her satisfaction at how the situation had played out. Her headache was gone, and the weight that had been sitting on her shoulders since she arrived in Orario had finally been lifted.

She was free. Truly free, for the first time since arriving in this world. No debt hanging over her head, no predatory god seeking to claim her, no obligations tying her to anyone or anything. The path ahead was hers to walk as she chose.

Though I'd be a fool to think this is truly the end of it, she mused, her steps slowing as she passed through a particularly picturesque stretch of street. Apollo may have conceded, but he hasn't forgiven. A god's pride is a fragile thing, and I've done more damage to his than most would dare attempt.

The thought should have worried her, but Tanya found she couldn't quite muster the concern. She was more than used to dealing with spurned "gods" and though Apollo was certainly more incessant when it came to achieving his desires than Being X, the power he could leverage in that regard had been rendered impotent.

He'd doubtlessly try again, but there wasn't much he could do unless he wished to smear his image even more in the public eye.

As it stood, she had other matters to consider now. Her debt was absolved, but her financial situation was still precarious at best. The money she had spent on equipment for the duel was gone, and she was practically at square one again. And then there was the matter of her long-term prospects in this city...

One step at a time, Tanya told herself, pushing open the door to the Hostess of Fertility. First, breakfast. The future can wait until I've had a proper meal and a cup of coffee.

The very fact that she could even think that only improved her mood. Though the business with Apollo was certainly not over, for now, she had won a long overdue victory.
 
Down And Out New
[Down And Out]

"AND STAY OUT!"

Azalea Quinn rolled with her rough landing before glaring back toward the bar that she had just been tossed out of. A pair of burly men, one tall, one short, glared at her with crossed arms, as if daring her to try her luck. Behind them, the barkeep—a man with a shaved head and a frankly ridiculous mustache—started her down with a sneer.

"I'll not have you picking fights with customers for no good reason," he said gruffly. "If you want to brawl, find a tavern or head down to the Dungeon and leave my patrons alone."

Azalea stumbled to her feet, her glare pulling at the scar on her face. "Your patrons are pigheaded idiots who couldn't pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were written on the heel. They deserve a good knocking; I'm just the only one with the balls to do it!"

The men who threw her out glowered at her and she sneered. "You heard me. Maybe if you'd learn to keep your trap shut, you'd find a woman willing to flirt with you for less than a free drink."

The taller of the two men took a step forward, his jaw clenched, but the barkeep placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "She's not worth it. Let her rot in the gutter where she belongs."

The door slammed shut, leaving Azalea standing in the street with her fists clenched and her pride stinging worse than her backside. A few passersby gave her a wide berth, their eyes sliding over her scarred face and armor before quickly looking away.

"Bastards," she muttered, spitting at the door. "All of 'em."

She turned and stalked away, her boots scuffing against the cobblestones as she trudged down the street. The midday sun beat down on the back of her neck, making her sweat beneath her armor and irritating her further. She needed a drink. A real drink, not the watered-down piss they served at that excuse for a tavern.

Azalea wandered the streets without any real destination in mind, her mind churning with dark thoughts that circled back to the same bitter conclusions they always did. She passed by a group of adventurers chatting animatedly near a quest board, their voices carrying across the street.

"Do you want to head down to the Hostess?"

"What? That's on the other side of the city! Why don't we just drink at one of the bars around here?"

"Because I see if the Little Devil is gonna be there. I hear she lives there, ya know?"

"Pfft, what? You want her autograph or something?"

"Let's just go."

Azalea's lip curled at the mention of the name. It seemed like that name was on everyone's lips these days, even though it had been almost a fucking month since the girl had her little duel with Apollo's ass-kisser. You couldn't walk two steps without hearing someone gush about the Little Devil this or the Little Devil that, as if she was the only adventurer in Orario worth talking about.

"Little Devil," Azalea sneered under her breath. "More like Little Bitch."

Azalea turned down a narrow side alley, heading away from the busier streets before she heard another mention of that name. The area she was heading into was full of businesses and shops that had already closed down for the day. Most of the people hanging around were just heading home or meeting up with someone else, meaning they weren't liable to bother her as long as she didn't look at them.

Good. She wasn't in the mood for company.

Azalea's mood drifted as it always did, returning back to that day in the Dungeon. The smell of blood and piss was still fresh in her mind, as were the screams and the sounds of bones cracking as her fellow familia members fell one after the other, dropping like flies to the Orcs and Minotaurs that had come out of nowhere. Almost twelve of them went down there, and only she came back up.

And of course, she suffered the consequences for that.

"Fucking weaklings panicked at the first sight of trouble," Azalea muttered, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "If they just rallied and followed my lead, they could have made it out alive too."

But they didn't. And now Soma Familia was down twelve of its stronger members, including her. Azalea's chest burned as she recalled her god's hands on her back, locking away her Falna and rendering her just as weak and useless as the bums on the street, with just as many places to call home. Someone had to take the blame for so many deaths and considering how it all played out, just getting kicked out of her familia was a pretty light punishment, at least on the surface.

But it wasn't just the loss of her Familia that had Azalea's hackles up. Being kicked out of Soma meant she was cut off from the good stuff. Soma's drinks made even the high-end classy shit they served at restaurants taste like swill, and now if she wanted some, she'd have to pay.

She slumped against the alley wall, the rough brick scraping against her armor as she slid down into a sitting position. Her hand dipped into the folds of her cloak, fingers closing around the familiar shape of the bottle she had pilfered from the bar before they tossed her out.

Azalea unwrapped the bottle, tearing away the cheap cloth with her teeth before spitting it to the side. Whisky sloshed to the ground as she popped the top, but she ignored it and drank down two mouthfuls.

"Fuck," she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "That's terrible."

She took another swig anyway, relishing the burn of the mid-shelf alcohol as it rushed towards her empty stomach.

Azalea leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the midnight sky streaked with silver stars visible between the rooftops. Tanya Degurechaff... Her problems started with that little girl.

If I could just get my hands on her...

But even as the thought crossed her mind, Azalea knew it was pointless. Tricks or not, the bitch had practically destroyed a Level Two in front of the whole city, and Azalea wasn't even a Level One anymore. Wouldn't be, until she could find another familia and a god to unlock her Falna. She was... weak. Too weak to put up a fight against a little girl.

Azalea briefly toyed with the idea of circumnavigating the fight altogether. She knew that Tanya lived at the Hostess of Fertility, slept soundly in the rooms up top. How hard would it be to sneak in there and put a knife between her ribs when she couldn't fight back?

The fantasy was a satisfying one. She could picture it perfectly—the look of surprise on the girl's face, the way her blue eyes would go wide with shock as the blade slipped between her ribs, the gurgle of blood in her throat as she tried to scream. It would be quick, probably messy, but deeply satisfying.

Unfortunately, reality was a cold bitch and quickly washed away the dream. You couldn't do that shit on the surface. The Dungeon was one thing; people died down there all the time and nobody questioned it, but a little girl getting murdered in her bed was the kind of trouble that got fingers pointing. And Azalea knew that there were enough leads to get them pointed in her direction, and then a noose around her neck.

Not worth it, she told herself, taking another swig of whisky. Not for that little brat.

She wanted revenge, wanted it with every fiber of her being, but she wasn't stupid enough to throw her life away for it. She'd find another way.

As Azalea took another swig, the sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears, sticking out amongst the distant chatter and laughter of the city around her. She didn't move, remaining slumped there as she waited for them to pass her by.

Only they didn't, and instead, she tensed as the footsteps paused right in front of her, clearly waiting for her to notice them. Was it a guard?

Azalea lowered the bottle and found herself staring at a pair of shiny black dress shoes, the kind that had probably never seen an alley this filthy in their life. Her eyes traveled upwards, past a pair of perfectly stitched black dress trousers and then the lapels of a finely pressed suit to find a pale face staring down at her.

The man standing before her was tall and lean, with swept-back black hair and dark eyes framed by darker brows and fine lashes. His complexion was that of polished marble, with not an imperfection to be seen in his sharp jaw and slightly pointed nose. His hands were folded behind his back as he stared down at her with an expression of mild interest.

"You seem a bit down on your luck," the man said, and Azalea sneered out of reflex.

"If you think you can buy me for a few Valis, you're gonna be sorely disappointed," she spat, baring her teeth at him like a feral dog. "And if you try anyway, I'm gonna shove my sword so far up your ass you'll be spitting steel."

The man didn't so much as flinch at the threat. Instead, he chuckled—a soft, amused sound that made Azalea's blood boil.

"There will be no need for that," he said, his lips curving into a slight smile. "I am not here to arouse your anger."

Azalea scoffed at the fluffy language, instantly pegging the man for a pompous prick with more money than brains. "Couldn't arouse anyone if you tried," she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Now fuck off. I don't want whatever you're selling."

Unfortunately, the man remained where he stood, smiling almost serenely. Azalea prepared to repeat her demand with an appropriate threat added on for good measure, when he leaned down and put something on the ground in front of her .

Azalea glanced at it and froze, her bottle of whisky dropping from limp fingers. It was a wine bottle, with an etched neck and a round bottom, wrapped in foil edges with gold. The label was one she would recognize anywhere, the crest of the Soma Familia emblazoned proudly on the front, proclaiming to all what it was.

Soma. Real, genuine Soma.

Azalea's mouth went dry despite the whisky she'd been swallowing. Her hands trembled as she reached for the bottle, her fingers brushing against the cool glass as if to make sure it was real.

It was. Azalea's breath catches in her throat as her fingers closed around the bottle. She had drunk enough of this stuff to know the real thing when she saw it, and this wasn't some cheap knockoff made to look like her god's wine.

She looked up at the man, her expression hungry. "Where did you get this?"

The man stood back to his full height, gazing down upon her with a surprising amount of tenderness for a stranger. Azalea looked back at him, staring into his golden eyes with suspicion and—

Wait. Weren't his eyes supposed to be black?

Azalea blinked, and the light disappeared, leaving the man's eyes as pits of onyx in his pale skull and making her wonder if she had seen it in the first place.

"The same place as most, I imagine," the man said. "Consider it a gift, freely given as long as you lend me your ear for a moment."

As if I'd let him take it back now. Azalea's grip tightened on the bottle of Soma, her knuckles whitening around the glass. Still...

"What do you want?" she asked suspiciously. "And make it quick. I just got a ticket to a good time and I don't know if you can tell, but I haven't had many of those lately."

The man's gentle smile widened. "Yes... You have been slighted recently, have you not? Stripped of your power and your home, cast out by your god like so much refuse. And all thanks to one soul."

Azalea's jaw clenched but she didn't say a word. Despite that, the man seemed to get the confirmation that he needed as he continued.

"If you would like... I could give you the means to get back at her," the man said, his voice laced with a tenderness that was almost unnerving. It coated the offer like honey, sweet to the ears, and Azalea's eyes widened before narrowing as instinct took over.

Though she had fallen on hard times, Azalea was still a veteran Adventurer. She had been on the cusp of Level Two when her Falna had been taken from her. She knew when a situation was strange, an offer, too good to be true.

There's something off about him, she thought. He knows too much and no normal person would be walking around with a bottle of Soma in their pocket, even in the safer parts of the city.

Was he a god? Azalea wasn't sure. All gods sealed their power when they descended, but divinity had a way of leaking through in even the least powerful of them. This man carried an aura of something, but it wasn't like anything that Azalea herself had ever felt, and that made her all the more wary.

But the idea of getting back at Tanya was a sweet poison, curling through her veins and settling into her bones like the Soma she was clutching.

"What's the catch?" she repeated, her eyes narrowing. "What do you want from me?"

The man crouched down until they were at eye level. He rested only a foot or so away from her, his hands pressed against one another, fingers laced as if in prayer. Azalea tensed, her fingers twitching to grab the sword holstered at her hip, but she froze as a strange light emerged from behind the man's eyes. Then, the man uttered a single word.

"Faith."
 
Failing Normalcy New
[Failing Normalcy]

The ticking clock on the wall and the silence elsewise was almost enough to make Tanya nostalgic. It reminded her of simpler days, working her way to the top of the corporate ladder, slowly but steadily trampling the unfit in her path on her way to higher management. She would admit, she missed it. Though here was a chance to start that climb over again, assuming things went well.

Unfortunately, if the results thusfar were any indication of an underlying pattern, she didn't have much of a chance.

It was a brisk morning that found Tanya sitting primly in a comfortable wooden chair, hands folded neatly over her lap, back straight, posture absolutely perfect so as to make the best impression possible. In front of her, behind a rather expensive looking desk, was a man perhaps thrice her body's age wearing a sharp suit and wielding slicked back black hair and a pair of square glasses. His ears were pointed, indicating at least a modicum of elven heritage, and a tag on his lapel held the single word, "Administrator."

The man regarded her over the rims of his glasses, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and skepticism. He set the papers down softly, steepling his hands over top of them

"This is a very impressive resume," he said, though his tone suggested there was something much less genial hidden behind his compliment.

Tanya kept her tone and expression neutral. "I spent quite a while on it."

"I can tell." The Administrator adjusted his glasses. "If even half of the experience listed on these papers is true, you may in fact be overqualified for the position you're applying for."

"But...?" Tanya prompted, already knowing what was coming.

The Administrator didn't answer her immediately. He took a moment to examine her, taking in her prim posture and stately dress. His eyes lingered on the top of her head, and Tanya fought a twitch, knowing exactly what he was looking at.

After a thorough visual pay down, the man sighed. He removed his glasses from his face, placing them on the desk and folding his hands once more. "I'm going to be frank with you, Miss Degurechaff. While I understand the desire to embellish, there is a time and place for it. This is not it."

Tanya's jaw tightened, but she kept her reaction in check. "I didn't embellish anything."

If anything, I left quite a bit out, she thought. The resume had been worded very carefully in such a way to give insight to her experience while maintaining a veneer of plausibility here in Orario.

Years of corporate management and war had been stripped back in favor of presenting her experience in the vaguest possible corporate terms. It was all technically true, just vaguely framed.

Yet, this administrator clearly didn't buy it. He picked up the papers again, flipping through them with a dull expression. "You're human, correct? Not only that, but a human without a Falna or any other blessing to speak of."

"That's correct."

"Yet the previous occupations you've listed here make that rather difficult to believe." The Administrator tapped a finger against the top page. "Managing large task forces, coordinating logistics under extreme pressure, overseeing complex operations with limited resources and personnel. These are not the kinds of experiences one simply picks up in a couple of decades, Miss Degurechaff. Yet here you sit, no younger than sixteen by a generous assumption."

Tanya kept her expression placid, though inwardly she was seething. "My life before coming to Orario was eventful," she said in a clipped tone.

The Administrator nodded slowly. "No doubt. But this eventful?" He set the papers down again, his skepticism evident. "I'm not so sure."

Tanya's eyes narrowed fractionally. "You're accusing me of lying?"

"I wouldn't be so bold as to make such an accusation. I'm simply stating that your claims are difficult to verify and quite frankly, they are all you have to offer," he shook his head. "While I appreciate your enthusiasm, we cannot in good conscience offer a position to someone whose qualifications we cannot confirm."

He slid the papers back across the desk toward her, and Tanya stared at them looking like she'd swallowed a lemon. She carefully controlled her reaction, reaching out to take the papers and slipping out of her seat.

"I see. Thank you for your time," she said through a clenched smile.

As she slid out of her chair, the man gave her a smile that he probably thought was reassuring. "If it's any consolation, I would be more than happy to hire you in a few years once you have some verifiable experience under your belt."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tanya threw over her shoulder as she stepped out of his office.

Tanya's stride was borderline furious as she left the Guild-affiliated bank behind her in favor of home. It was early afternoon, yet the streets were only marginally packed as most were down below or working. She would have liked to join them.

Insufferable, she thought, her jaw clenched. Absolutely insufferable.

Since the business with the Apollo Familia had wrapped up and her debt cleared, Tanya had been looking into more conventional means of employment that didn't require her to risk life and limb for a steady paycheck. She wished for something simple, out of the public eye, and with enough upward mobility that she could live comfortably assuming she put in the time.

That was her third job interview in the past two weeks, and just like the others, it had gone exceptionally poorly.

Tanya would admit, it was beginning to annoy her. The Empire, for all of its many, many flaws, was at least an equal opportunity playing ground provided you knew how to play the game well enough. Being a child had posed no problem to her advancement then; if anything, her prodigious rise through the ranks had been celebrated as a testament to her abilities.

But here, her age and stature seemed to be dragging her down at every turn.

It's fine sending children into a dungeon filled with monsters, she thought bitterly, but heaven forbid they want to live a simple life working behind a desk in tenure. Perhaps I should masquerade as a Pallum. I'm certainly short enough.

The thought was only half joking and would certainly have been a temporary measure regardless. She didn't exactly have many options at this juncture considering the world seemed determined to push her toward the Dungeon, regardless of her preferences in the matter.

A passing adventurer caught sight of her and opened his mouth to say something but clearly thought better of it as he caught sight of her stormy expression, quickly looking away.

That had been happening quite a bit recently; people had been recognizing her even on the street. She had thought that it would simply be a passing thing and that the hype surrounding her duel would have faded into obsolescence, but she was wrong. Her fame and title were as alive as ever.

Little Devil, she thought, likening it back to her previous mantle on the Rhine Front. I suppose it was too much to ask that the title didn't catch on.

Several more people recognized her as she made her way through the streets but thankfully, none approached, and soon enough the Hostess of Fertility was well within sight.

Tanya pushed through the door with perhaps more force than strictly necessary. Syr, sweeping near the bar, immediately found her eyes and her surprise shifted into a knowing expression

"It didn't go well, did it?"

Tanya sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders as she made her way to the bar and dropped onto a stool. "No. It did not."

She set her papers on the counter, and Syr poured her a glass of water without being asked. Tanya accepted it with a nod.

"It seems I'm back to grinding the Dungeon until I grow another foot or two," she said, her tone flat. "Or until this city develops a system that recognizes competence regardless of appearance."

Syr hummed softly as she grabbed her broom again. "Mama Mia's offer still stands, you know."

Tanya shook her head immediately, the motion sharp and decisive. "I don't have the patience to deal with drunken idiots asking for autographs. I'm afraid I'd lose more money than I'd make, even assuming the room and board are free."

"They're not," Syr said lightly. "But you might be right. I can't see you waiting tables with that little scowl you constantly have on your face. You always seem at least a little unhappy."

Tanya shrugged, turning her eyes to the nearby stairs as heavy footsteps approached. "I had a lot to be unhappy about, until recently."

She inclined her head as a figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs, yawning heavily. "And good morning to you. Or afternoon. It's well past one, you know?"

A tired grin appeared on Dorian's face at Tanya's remark. The man's usual armor had been traded for something far more casual: a short sleeved shirt and work pants, though a sword hung at his side. It wasn't dissimilar to his last one, though much smaller and clearly meant to be wielded in one hand.

Which, considering he only had the one left, was probably by design.

"I'd say I'm due some well deserved rest," he said as he sidled up to the bar beside her, taking a seat. His weight made the chair creak but it held firm as he placed his arm on the bar, giving her a wry smile. "Besides, it's not as if I've got much adventuring to do anymore. Nor anyone to do it with."

Tanya nodded, not commenting on his somewhat depressive comment. Though Dorian had survived the ambush in the Dungeon, it hadn't been unscathed. It was clear that the man was still taking his injury and hiatus slash retirement from delving with a clenched jaw.

Syr poured him a glass of water and he thanked her, gulping half of it down in one go. As he set the glass back down, he turned to Tanya. "So, have you heard anything from Licia."

Tanya shrugged. "By all accounts, she's settling in quite happily with Loki's Familia. I believe she's going to the Tenth Floor today with a partner."

Dorian nodded, seeming satisfied. "I'm glad she's starting to get some of her spirit back. I was worried that Lor—... I mean Apollo drove it all out of her."

Tanya didn't comment on the slip. Leaving the Apollo Familia had been an adjustment for both he and Licia. Thankfully, Apollo had stayed true to their contract and allowed both of them to excuse themselves from his group of sycophants unmolested. At least as far as the god himself was concerned.

Tanya herself, on the other hand...

"Is Mama Mia still considering making a blacklist board," Tanya asked Syr. The silver-haired woman blinked, before a wry grin appeared on her face.

"I think she said she'd do something much worse if those Apollo jerks keep making trouble," Syr giggled. "Something about shoving a certain god's head where his own sun doesn't shine, I believe she said."

"Ha! That'd be a sight to see," Dorian belted a laugh, shaking his head. Tanya smiled, sipping her water.

"That it would," Syr agreed. "Thankfully, I think they're starting to get the hint. They don't ask about you nearly as often anymore. I think they're starting to wonder if you even live here anymore."

"Maybe I'll be able to stop taking dinners in my room soon," Tanya mused.

Though Tanya's victory over Asterin and Apollo by proxy had cemented her as a force to be reckoned with and earned her no small amount of idolization from the common folk of Orario, it had come with the side effects of completely embarrassing the sun god's familia.

How could a Level Two lose to an unblessed little girl, they asked. For an adventurer like Asterin to lose as he had had been the ultimate shame. Apollo's standing among his peers had fallen quite a bit, and Tanya had seen more than one person cracking a joke or two at the expense of the gilded crest his adventurers proudly wore upon their lapel.

As vindicating as it was to cause trouble to the being that had basically tried to enslave her however, it hadn't come without cost. That cost being, they wouldn't leave her alone now.

Certainly, they didn't assault her in the streets, but their ire was certainly felt regardless. As Syr stated, several of them had already visited the Hostess—as everyone knew where she lived, apparently—and made inquiries into her. Tanya had taken to eating in her room simply to avoid the trouble.

Thankfully, Mama Mia wasn't the type of woman to let her patrons be harassed and quickly sorted it out, but Tanya had a feeling that wasn't going to be the end of it.

He can't do anything to me without risking even more public shame. But there are ways to get revenge without making a spectacle of it. Many kings thought themselves invincible only to die to a dagger in the dark.

Though if Apollo were willing to go that far, Tanya should certainly respond with appropriate and overwhelming force. Perhaps she'd take a page out of the Americans' books and give a proportionate response.

I doubt it'd take many artillery spells to render that gaudy mansion a pile of smoking ash, Tanya thought idly. Maybe two or three. With a fourth on top just for good measure.

Though that'd require a focus. Speaking of which...

"We should continue this later tonight," Tanya said, glancing at the nearby clock. "I just remembered, there's something I've been meaning to check up on."

Dorian nodded. "Sounds good to me. I'll hop over to the Twilight Manor and see if I can't get Licia to join us, so you'd best keep your word."

Nodding, Tanya bid her companions farewell and made her way to her room. Once inside, she quickly stripped out of her stuffy clothes and put on something much more casual. Now that the interview was over, there was no reason to put on airs.

She wrapped her belted holster around her waist, her blade on one side and her Luger on the other. She momentarily regarded the weapon, reminding herself that it was probably time to upgrade now that her funds were her own, before turning her attention to a nearby dresser.

Tanya moved to the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer, pushing aside a stack of spare clothes to reveal a bundle of cloth at the very back. She unwrapped it carefully, gazing down at her Type 95 as it sat in her hands, dull and lifeless.

The computation orb had been a lifeline in the Empire, but had also been the conduit through which Being X had imposed his will upon her, forcing her to pray in exchange for the strength she needed to live. She had hated it then, and she hated it now, but she couldn't deny its usefulness.

As she held the object responsible for her survival in so many impossible situations, Tanya found her mind drifting to the one responsible for its usefulness. Being X had been conspicuously silent since she arrived in this world. Not a single whisper, or vision; not even a taunting comment about her circumstances. If she didn't know better, she'd say he'd simply abandoned her here to live out her life in this polytheistic hell without further interference.

But she did know better.

Being X wasn't the type to give up on his little pet project so easily. He had invested too much time and effort into his endeavor to simply walk away now. He was around, watching her from on high or wherever he liked to lounge when he wasn't actively meddling with her life. Or perhaps he was walking the streets in corporeal form, as so many of his kind seemed to do in this world. The thought sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

Either way he wasn't liable to leave her alone. Not until she bent the knee and pledged her faith to the almighty higher power that he believes himself to be.

Seems we'll be together for lifetimes, then, Tanya thought, her lips curling into a humorless smile. Or at least until I manage to rid myself of him for good.

Tanya placed the Type 95 back into its bundle and tucked it away before leaving for Babel and a certain dusty shop. If Being X did show his face again to meddle in her life, she would be ready when that moment came.
 
Looking Up New
[Looking Up]


Krov's shop was just as empty as the last time Tanya had visited it. It seemed that the woman's only visitors since their last meeting had been the dust bunnies that had taken up residence on the shelves nearest the door.

The woman herself was leaned over the shop counter, one hand propping her face up as she snoozed softly. Tanya raised an eyebrow at the behavior, before clearing her throat loudly.

"Ah!" Krov's eyes snapped open and her cheek slipped from her closed fist, causing her to nearly faceplant on the counter. She shot up, eyes wide and bleary, before they locked onto Tanya.

"Hello?" She called, before blinking as Tanya came into focus. Immediately, a wide, eager smile broke out on her face, and her entire continence shifted from excitement to borderline jubilation. "Its you! You're back!"

"I am," Tanya noted. "And you were sleeping. I assume business is slow as usual?"

Krov seemingly ignored her question, darting around the counter to stand before Tanya in clear excitement. Tanya noted that her fingers were stained with soot, or perhaps charcoal, with smudges leading up her hand towards her wrists and forearms. The woman didn't seem to care about that or even notice it, as she reached out and grabbed Tanya by both shoulders in a move that made Tanya straighten with confusion and mild annoyance.

"Did you bring it? Please tell me you brought it," She pleaded, her eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. Tanya was taken aback by her insistence and borderline manic nature, staring at her in shock.

It was then that Krov seemed to realize what she was doing. She looked down at her hands, up to Tanya's unimpressed face, and took a huge step back. A blush quickly spread across her scarred face, and she wrung her hands together nervously, smearing soot all over herself.

"S-sorry about that. I've been thinking about that focus since you first brought it to me and I... honestly wasn't sure you were ever going to come back, hehe," she laughed nervously, looking properly contrite. "Sorry."

Tanya rubbed the black stains off of her shoulder with a slow movement, staring at the woman with a raised brow. "Well I suppose if you're sorry enough to apologize twice, I can forgive a bit of excitement on your part. Please don't do that again."

"Right, sorry," Krov winced, before shaking her head. "A-Anyway, what can I do for you? I don't suppose it has anything to do with that beautiful piece of magical engineering that's been haunting my dreams and every waking moment of my life since you first showed it to me?"

Tanya eyed her. "You weren't quite so enthusiastic about it when I first brought it in."

"I didn't want to scare you off," Krov admitted shamelessly. "You have to understand, most people who come in here are carrying some family heirloom they think they can sell for cash or looking for something that would make a Level One fight like a Level Three. Half of them don't know what they're looking for and the other half get mad at me when I tell them what they are looking for doesn't exist. You're the first person in months to come my way with some actual business."

Krov retrieved her stool from the back of the counter and hopped up on it, her feet swinging slightly as she leaned forward, her face bright and animated.

"And boy did you ever! I've had people bring me all sorts of things since I opened shop, but I've never seen anything like your focus." She pressed a hand to her chest dramatically. "It's probably the most interesting thing I've seen since I took up this profession."

The Type 95 was a product of another world entirely, and as such, it made sense that someone like Krov, whose entire profession revolved around magical artifacts, would find it endlessly fascinating. Still, the woman's enthusiasm was notable.

"I'm glad my equipment has provided you with some entertainment."

"Entertainment is an understatement," Krov laughed. "I've been so "entertainment" that I've spent the past two months drawing up prototype sketches based on your focus's design. Wanna see them?"

Tanya felt interest despite herself. A single examination shouldn't have been enough to produce anything of substance, yet the woman said sketches, plural. The Type 95 was a product of technology and magical theory that simply didn't exist in this world, and reverse-engineering it from a brief inspection should have been next to impossible. And yet...

"I suppose I have a few minutes," Tanya said. "Show me what you've come up with."

Krov's face turned bright and she turned back to the counter. "One second!" she disappeared into the room just behind the counter, and beyond, Tanya could hear the sound of clattering and shuffled papers as the woman looked through her things. A moment later, Krov returned, carrying a leatherbound book that looked large enough to chronicle several lifetimes.

"Here, take a look," Krov said, clearing a space on the counter and opening the notebook to its latter pages. Tanya noted how careful she was not to wrinkle the paper, handling it was the reverence most would reserve for holy artifacts. "These are the ones I'm most proud of."

Tanya leaned over the book, her eyes scanning the first sketch with genuine curiosity, and paused as she was met with an incredibly detailed drawing of her Computation Orb, or at least something similar. The internal structure had been mapped out with surprising accuracy, with lines and notations indicating the flow of magical energy through various channels. Though she was no engineer, there were elements that Tanya recognized immediately, and she was left surprised at their accuracy.

"You drew this from memory?" Tanya asked, somewhat stupefied.

"I had to do something with all these ideas that popped into my head," Krov said, though there was a hint of pride in her voice.

"Are you planning to sell these?" Tanya's tone was broaching but careful.

Krov let out a bark of laughter "Sell what? The drawings? I don't have the money to start actually building anything, and even if I did, there's no guarantee any of it would work. No smith or artificer worth their salt would pay the price I'd put up anyway. Not without a working product."

Tanya's eyes lingered on the sketches, her mind taking in this new information and running with it. Krov was more talented than she had assumed. It astounded her that the woman was able to produce sketches this complex from a single inspection of the Type 95.

Tanya's mind raced with the possibilities. Magical theory in this world was far behind that in the Empire when it came to the more physical aspects of the craft. If Krov could be brought up to speed on the finer points of magical computation theory, there was no telling what she might be capable of producing. And if those productions bore Tanya's name—or rather, her investment—there was equally no telling how lucrative such an arrangement might become.

Tanya had been searching for an alternate source of income from the Dungeon, and it seemed one might have just landed at her feet. It was a stretch, certainly, but all great businesses had to start somewhere, and she had seen greater things come from more humble beginnings. Krov had talent; she just needed capital and a product worth selling.

But first thing's first.

Tanya reached into her cloak and pulled out the bundle containing her Type 95, setting it on the counter in front of her. Krov's eyes immediately locked onto it, her eyes widening and her proud smile twitching into one of hopeful intrigue.

"I'd like to resume our earlier discussion," Tanya said. "You mentioned before that you could repair this."

Krov's hands hovered over the bundle, her fingers twitching with barely contained eagerness. She looked up at Tanya, her eyes wide. "May I?"

Tanya nodded. "Just be careful."

"Of course, of course," Krov murmured, already reaching for the cloth. Her fingers worked at the wrappings with a delicacy that belied her earlier enthusiasm, unfolding each layer as if she were peeling back the petals of a flower. When the final fold fell away, the Type 95 sat exposed on the counter, its surface catching what little light filtered through the dusty windows.

Krov's breath caught in her throat. "Just as beautiful as when I last laid eyes on it," she breathed, lifting it with careful hands.

Tanya watched as Krov turned it over slowly, her eyes tracing the etched lines and channels that ran across its surface. Her fingers danced across the metal, swept over the cracked jewel.

"Give me a few minutes with it," Krov said distractedly, her attention already fully absorbed by the device in her hands. "And I'll tell you exactly what it needs."

Tanya nodded again, settling back on her heels as Krov moved to her workbench. The woman produced a loupe from somewhere among her cluttered tools and fitted it over her eye, leaning in close to examine the orb's interior through the gaps in its casing. She hummed to herself as she worked, her hips swaying as she got lost in her own little world.

While the woman worked, Tanya took the opportunity to study the rest of the sketches in the leatherbound book, flipping through the pages with idle curiosity. Some of the designs were rough, half-finished or scribbled over, while others were more refined, annotated with notes and terms that Tanya didn't have the knowledge to discern.

If I could find a way to monetize this, Tanya mused, I might not need to step foot in the Dungeon again.

The thought was a pretty one, but quite far away should she decide to actually pursue it. That being said, Tanya was nothing if not ambitious, and she did love having a tangible goal to work towards.

Krov returned after perhaps fifteen minutes of working. She settled at the counter, carefully placing the Type 95 just in front of Tanya. Her expression was neutral, and Tanya braced herself.

"I have good news, bad news, and okay news," Krov said, drumming her fingers against the counter in a nervous pattern. "Which would you like first?"

Tanya considered for a moment. "Good news."

"I can fix it," Krov said, her voice carrying a note of pride. "The damage to the internal channels is significant, but it's not beyond repair. The crystalline structure can be mended, and the conduits that route magical energy through the device can be re-established with some careful work."

Tanya nodded slowly, though she had expected as much given the woman's earlier confidence. "And the bad news?"

Krov winced, her fingers stilling against the counter. "It's going to cost you. Double what I quoted you before, possibly more."

Tanya's expression flattened. "Double?"

"Maybe more," Krov repeated, holding up her hands in a placating gesture as Tanya's eyes narrowed. "Look, I know it's not ideal. It's my fault: I misjudged the quality of materials. Like I already told you, the kind of crystal I'd need to replace the jewel isn't something you can just pick up at the market. I'd have to commission it from a specialist, and that's going to be a quote all on its own assuming they can even do it. Add to that the time and precision required to actually perform the repairs without damaging anything else, and..."

She trailed off with a shrug. Tanya's jaw tightened, but she remained calm. This was not a life or death situation as it was with her debt, even though it was certainly less than ideal.

"I see," she said, her tone carefully neutral. "And the okay news?"

Krov's face split into a grin, her earlier hesitation melting away as she leaned forward on the counter. "I might be able to make you a new one in the meantime."

Tanya blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It won't be as complicated as the one you've got right here," she tapped the Type 95 with one finger. "but it would do pretty much the same thing, if a bit more inefficiently. You've seen the sketches yourself."

She flipped to a specific page of her book. "This one, specifically. It's based on the same foundational theory as your focus, but streamlined. Fewer channels, simpler construction, and most importantly, no cracked jewel to worry about."

Tanya stared at the sketch, then at Krov, then back at the sketch again. "And the cost?"

"I'm willing to do it for thirty thousand Valis," Krov said simply. She held her hand up, forestalling Tanya's reaction. "But you'll have to leave the old one here so I can take it apart and get a proper look at it. I can only glean so much about it without actually getting my hands on its bits."

Tanya stared at the woman for a long moment, mulling over the offer. Her gaze slid to the Type 95, sitting on the counter, broken and utterly useless in its current state.

But did that mean she was willing to risk it in its entirety just for the chance of having it repaired?

It was useful, but how much good is it doing me like this? Tanya asked herself. The answer was ostensibly "not much at all".

She looked up at Krov, who was watching her intently. She seemed calm on the surface, but Tanya easily saw through the facade to the barely-contained eagerness held underneath. The woman's eyes kept drifting back to the Type 95 as if drawn there by a greater power, her fingers twitching against the counter with clear desire to reach out and take it again.

"Only thirty thousand Valis," Tanya said slowly. "And you would need to disassemble my current focus to complete the work."

"Only for a little bit!" Krov assured rather quickly. "I'll keep all the pieces safe and catalogued properly so you don't have to worry about something going missing. If you'd like, you can think of it like a deposit, of sorts."

Tanya hummed. "A deposit that you'll be studying at your leisure."

Krov had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Well, yes. But only to ensure the new design works as intended! I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think I could pull it off. I've been studying magical focuses for longer than you've been alive, missy. I know what I'm doing."

Tanya held up a hand to forestall the woman's increasingly defensive rambling. "I'm not questioning your competence. You've shown me more than enough to dissuade me of any notions like that. I'm more concerned about what you might do with the knowledge you manage to glean from my personal property."

Krov seemed a bit confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Once our business concludes, I assume you intend to use your newfound knowledge to turn this establishment into something more lively, yes?" Tanya gestured to the empty shop around them. "If you manage to duplicate my focus, it'd only make sense to peddle the idea to adventurers seeking a novel way to focus their magic."

Krov's face turned guilty, and Tanya knew instantly that she had the woman pegged. "That's—I mean, I-I was going to ask you—"

"I'm not against the idea," Tanya cut through the woman's nervous rambling. "I'd even be willing to help you, but I would like to be properly compensated for my role in this, I'm sure you understand?"

Krov's expression shifted from guilt to surprise, and then settled on hope. "You want to help me?"

"I said as much, didn't I?" Tanya replied. "You clearly have talent and a passion for your craft that ensures quality would never be an issue. If you had something to get boots through your doors, I'm sure you could be quite successful. Why wouldn't I want to be a part of that?"

Krov stared at her for a long moment, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I... I don't know what to say."

"You could start by telling me whether this is something you actually want," Tanya said. "I've no interest in partnering with someone who's only half-committed to the endeavor."

"Are you kidding?" Krov asked "This is everything I've wanted since I opened this shop! To actually make something, something that could change the way people think about magical focuses—of course I want it!"

Tanya nodded, satisfied. "Good. Then we have the foundations of an understanding, at least."

Krov was practically vibrating in place, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as if to steady herself. "I'll have to speak to Lady Hephaestus because you're not a member of our Familia, but I know she'll say yes!"

Tanya felt a flicker of irritation at the notion of asking a higher power for permission to enact a beneficial business deal, but managed to quash her initial reaction in favor of a measured nod. "That's perfectly fine. We can resume this chat at a later date.

"In the meantime," Tanya continued, "I'll take your deal. Thirty thousand Valis for a new focus, and you may disassemble my current one to facilitate the work."

Krov's face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. "Really? You mean it?"

"I don't tend to say things I don't mean," Tanya replied, though she allowed a small smile at the woman's enthusiasm. "However, I do have a few conditions. First, I will be returning for regular updates on your progress. Second, any notes or observations you make regarding my focus are to be kept strictly confidential until we've formalized our partnership. And third—"

She held up a finger, fixing Krov with a firm look.

"—if at any point I decide I want my original focus back in one piece, you will reassemble it to the best of your ability and return it to me. Regardless of whether you've completed the new one."

Krov nodded rapidly, her hands already reaching for the Type 95 before she caught herself. "Of course! Absolutely! You have my word on all three counts!"

"Good." Tanya reached into her pouch and began counting out the payment. Thirty thousand Valis was no small sum, but it was well within her means now that her debt had been absolved. The money from her delves s had been accumulating steadily, and with no outstanding obligations to drain her funds, she could afford this investment. Because it was an investment.

She placed the stack of coins on the counter, and Krov barely took the moment to count it before turning to the machine that held her true interest.

"I'll need a few weeks," Krov said, her voice slightly breathless. "Maybe more, depending on how the initial work goes. I'll need to study it and source the materials."

"I understand," Tanya said. "Take whatever time you need. I'd rather have a working product than a rushed one."

Krov nodded, her earlier nervousness replaced by a fierce determination that Tanya found rather refreshing. The woman's hands practically trembled as she lifted the Type 95 from the counter, cradling it against her chest like a precious treasure.

"I won't let you down," she said, her voice firm despite the excitement bubbling beneath the surface. "You'll get your focus, and it'll be the best work I've ever done."

"I'll hold you to that," Tanya replied. "I'll be back in say, three days? That should be enough time for you to speak with your goddess and have an actual quote ready, yes?"

"Easily!" Krov was already moving toward her workbench, her attention fully captured by the device in her hands. Tanya watched as the woman settled onto her stool, producing a set of delicate tools from somewhere among the clutter, and within moments, she was lost to the world.

Tanya allowed herself a small smile as she turned to leave. The shop's door chimed as she stepped out into Babel, but she barely heard it as she turned her thoughts inward.

It was a risky investment she had just made. If Krov couldn't produce something of quality or somehow managed to break the Type 95 even further, then she would be well and truly screwed.

It was a calculated risk, but Tanya had taken far greater risks with far less potential payoff. At the very least, she would have a working focus again. At best, she might have just secured herself a very lucrative business venture.

Things were finally looking up.



Get chapters to this fic and others early at Sadguychet | Patreon! Chapter 29 has just been posted!
 
Nice, thank for all the chapters. If they meet, I feel Tanya would get along with Hephaestus alright, when it come to buisness Hephaestus feel serious and fair, something Tanya would appreciate.
 

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