The door creaked open as Felis stepped back into the church, a wooden tray in one hand and a neatly wrapped bundle in the other. The morning air still clung to his clothes, but the warmth of the food seeped through the packaging, carrying the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and a thick, steaming stew.
A peace offering.
Or, more accurately—a bribe.
He had very narrowly escaped divine retribution earlier, slipping out the moment he realized he had pushed his teasing too far. Now, he returned with Hestia's favorite breakfast in hopes of smoothing things over.
As he set the meal down on the table, he heard the sound of rustling fabric from the sleeping quarters. Moments later, Hestia emerged, her small frame wrapped in a different outfit than before—a cozy beige sweater that draped over her figure, paired with a short skirt that ended just above her knees. Her twin tails were still neatly tied, her fire-shaped hairpins flickering under the morning light.
Felis's golden eyes flickered with amusement as he shot her a knowing look.
Hestia, who had already been rubbing her still-sleepy eyes, instantly went on high alert.
"W-What?" she asked, arms crossing defensively.
Felis smirked.
"Oh, nothing," he said smoothly, gesturing toward the meal. "Let's eat first. You'll need the energy."
She narrowed her eyes. She wanted to argue—he could see it in the way she took an extra breath, lips parting as if ready to protest—but then her stomach growled.
Hestia froze.
Felis's smirk deepened.
"…Fine," she muttered, stomping over to the table. "But don't think this makes up for everything."
Felis chuckled but wisely refrained from commenting, already reaching for a piece of bread.
---
The breakfast was warm and filling, but the tension between them hadn't entirely disappeared.
Hestia, for her part, kept sneaking glances at him between bites.
Felis pretended not to notice.
Until—
"You—You were rubbing me with your tail—and I let you!?"
Felis calmly swallowed his food before tilting his gaze toward her, his expression unreadable. His tail flicked once behind him, slow and deliberate.
"Yeah," he said simply. "And?"
Hestia gawked at him.
Her face went red, her hands balling into tiny fists.
"And you don't even look guilty about it!!"
Felis smirked. "Should I be?"
"Yes!!"
"Hm." He tilted his head as if considering it, then shrugged. "Well, you didn't stop me, so I figured you were enjoying it."
Hestia nearly choked.
"I was too stunned to react! That doesn't mean you get to take liberties like that!!"
Felis leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms lazily. "So, if I did it again, you'd push me away?"
"…!"
Silence.
Hestia opened her mouth. Then shut it.
Her fingers curled against the hem of her sweater, her face burning.
Felis noticed. Oh, he noticed.
She wasn't pushing him away. Not really.
'Interesting.'
"Careful now," he murmured, voice low. "You might end up liking this more than you expect."
Hestia's face turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
That was it.
Her chair scraped against the floor as she abruptly stood, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
"That's it! You're banned from tail privileges for a whole week!!"
Felis blinked. Then chuckled.
"…You're really enforcing a tail ban?"
"Absolutely!!"
"Even if you start missing it?"
"I—I won't!"
A pause.
Then Felis tilted his head, smirking. "We'll see."
Hestia hated how confident he was.
And she really hated herself for wondering if he'd try to break the ban sooner rather than later.
---
After breakfast, Felis sat cross-legged on the floor, Hestia kneeling behind him as she traced her finger along his back, updating his Falna.
The familiar sensation of divine energy trickling into his skin was followed by Hestia's sharp intake of breath.
"…Your stats," she murmured, voice hushed. "Except for Magic… Everything's reached S-rank."
Felis hummed. "Sounds about right."
Hestia hesitated. "…You're planning something, aren't you?"
Felis rolled his shoulders before standing, turning to face her. "I'm going to be gone for a week."
Hestia blinked.
"A week?"
Felis nodded. "I need a proper great feat to level up."
She frowned. "You're already strong enough. You don't have to rush—"
"I know." He met her gaze, firm but calm. "But I want to have an achievement that'll make you very proud when you talk about me to other gods."
Hestia's breath hitched.
Her lips parted slightly, words failing her for a moment as she stared up at him. The golden eyes watching her held no trace of teasing—only quiet determination, the kind that settled deep in her chest and made her heart squeeze.
"…You idiot," she muttered, looking away, her grip tightening on the hem of her sweater.
Felis chuckled. "I get that a lot."
She huffed, crossing her arms. "…Fine. But don't do anything reckless."
Felis smirked. "When have I ever?"
Hestia shot him a deadpan stare.
"…Okay, fair."
---
Before leaving, Felis placed a small pouch of coins in Hestia's hands.
"Here. Thirty thousand valis. Household funds while I'm gone."
Hestia blinked, then frowned. "This is too much—" "Not really." Felis shrugged. "Besides, even if you spend it all on food, it's fine. That way, I can see a rounder Hestia when I come back."
Hestia gasped, utterly scandalized.
"Excuse me!?"
Her tiny fists clenched as she glared up at him, but Felis, the shameless cat he was, only smirked.
"I'm just saying, if you're going to indulge, at least make it worth it."
Hestia puffed up in outrage. "I am not getting rounder, you—!"
Felis laughed but wisely stepped out of range before she could retaliate.
Then, his expression softened. "Also," he continued, more seriously, "the church might be more livable now, but it's still not the safest. If anything happens, go to Hephaestus."
Hestia pouted, still somewhat sulking from his earlier remark, but she sighed.
"…Alright," she relented.
For a moment, Felis simply stared at her.
Not teasing. Not smirking. Just… looking.
"…What?" she asked, shifting slightly.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he pulled her into a hug.
No words. No teasing.
Just a quiet embrace, warm and steady, as if memorizing the shape of her in his arms.
Hestia stiffened at first. But then… she melted into it. 'If he kept looking at me like that… I might actually start missing him.'
No words were needed.
Just this.
Just them.
---
The towering spire of Babel stretched into the sky, its pristine walls gleaming under the midday sun. As Felis approached the massive structure, he exhaled slowly, his golden eyes flickering with purpose.
He was here for two reasons: to commission a sword and to find suitable armor. Both needed to be ready within four days.
Stepping inside, the air carried the distinct scent of heated metal and worked steel, the lifeblood of Orario's finest smiths. The Hephaestus Familia workshop, nestled within Babel's inner structure, was bustling with activity. Dwarves and human smiths moved with purpose, hammering, quenching, and refining weapons fit for adventurers of all levels.
Felis scanned the area before approaching a burly dwarf behind the counter. The smith's beard was thick, singed at the edges, and his muscular arms were crossed as he eyed Felis with a mix of interest and scrutiny.
"Looking for a weapon, cat-boy?" the dwarf rumbled.
Felis nodded, placing a pouch of valis onto the counter with a practiced motion. "I need a sword commissioned. Something reliable, not too flashy. It needs to be ready in four days."
The dwarf snorted. "Hah! A rush job, huh? And let me guess—you want quality too?"
Felis smirked. "Naturally."
The dwarf leaned forward, rubbing his chin. "Alright, let's hear it. What kind of sword are we talking about? Straight blade? Curved? How long?"
Felis crossed his arms, his tail flicking behind him as he considered his words carefully.
"I need a one-handed longsword, well-balanced, made for agility and precision rather than brute force. My fighting style favors speed and adaptability over heavy strikes."
The dwarf grunted. "So, something that won't break after a few swings against tougher monsters. What're you hunting?"
Felis met his gaze squarely. "Goliath."
The smith's thick brows shot up. "Monster Rex, eh? That's no small feat, lad." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "A blade that can take punishment while staying sharp… Yeah, I got some ideas."
Then his grin widened. "Course, a job like this don't come cheap."
Felis sighed, already expecting this. "Alright, what's your asking price?"
The dwarf's grin turned into something of a challenge. "Three hundred thousand valis."
Felis scoffed. "Yeah, no."
The dwarf let out a bark of laughter. "What, too rich for ya? You want quality, don't ya?"
"I want a sword, not a decorative piece to impress nobles," Felis shot back. "Three hundred thousand is robbery."
The dwarf shrugged, crossing his thick arms. "Materials cost, lad. Good steel don't come cheap, and you're asking for a rush job on top of that."
Felis leaned forward slightly. "I'm asking for a functional sword, not some fancy blade inlaid with gold. You and I both know that a solid weapon doesn't need to cost that much."
The dwarf paused, then let out a low whistle. "Look here, lad. If you want a sword that can deal damage to Goliath, we need good materials. We can't make it with spoon-level quality steel."
He tapped the counter, eyes sharp. "Fine, let's say… two hundred eighty thousand."
Felis shook his head. "Two hundred."
The dwarf let out a snort. "Ha! You trying to starve me, lad? Two seventy."
"Two twenty," Felis countered. "You're not throwing in any magic enhancements, and I doubt you're using Adamantite."
The dwarf narrowed his eyes. "Two sixty. And that's generous."
Felis rubbed his chin, then sighed. "Alright, let's be real here." He met the dwarf's gaze with a firm stare. "Two hundred fifty thousand. You craft a sword that's satisfying—not some vanity piece for a noble—but a dependable weapon that will do its job."
The dwarf studied him for a moment, then let out a deep chuckle.
"Hah! Fine, fine. You got yourself a deal, lad."
He extended a calloused hand, and Felis clasped it with a firm shake.
"One more thing," Felis added. "A good scabbard. I don't need some ornamented case, just something practical that'll last."
The dwarf nodded. "Fair enough. You'll have your sword in four days."
"I also need armor, but since I've spent a good chunk of my budget on the sword, I can't go too high."
The dwarf smirked. "Hah, playing the 'low budget' card now, are we?"
Felis grinned but didn't deny it.
The smith chuckled, then scratched his beard. "If you want something good without breaking the bank, I'd recommend a smith named Welf Crozzo. He ain't made a big name for himself yet, but he's fair with pricing and won't screw you over."
Felis tilted his head. "Crozzo? As in—"
"Yeah, yeah, that Crozzo," the dwarf waved a hand dismissively. "But don't expect a magic sword. He's stubborn about that."
Felis shrugged. "I'm looking for armor anyway, not a magic sword. Can't afford one even if I wanted to."
The dwarf chuckled. "Then maybe ask him for some magic armor instead. If he won't make swords, who knows? You might get damn lucky."
Felis smirked. "Magic armor? What kind of magic? The one that turns me into a beautiful girl?"
The dwarf let out a booming guffaw. "That'd be real goddamned magic armor, lad!"
Felis nodded. "Where can I find him?"
The dwarf pointed toward a smaller smithy tucked near the side of the workshop area. "Over there. Red-haired kid. Not the most sociable type, but he's solid."
"Alright than you"
Felis turn around and walk away
From behind he can hear the dwarf loud voice and his laughter "don't forget about your magic armor, lad!"
---
Felis made his way over, stepping into the heat of the forge where a young man with wild red hair was hammering away at a glowing piece of metal. Sweat dripped down his brow, his muscles tense with effort as sparks danced with each strike.
Welf Crozzo.
Felis waited until the hammering paused before speaking. "I Looking for a smith."
Welf glanced up, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. His blue eyes held mild curiosity, but his expression hardened almost instantly. "If you came because of the Crozzo name, then forget it." He turned back toward his work, already dismissing the conversation.
Felis raised an eyebrow. "If you're saying that before even asking what I need, you'll never be more than a small-time blacksmith." He crossed his arms, smirking. "Might as well start forging hoes instead."
Welf paused mid-motion, his grip tightening on the hammer. A flicker of irritation crossed his face as he turned back to Felis. "Tch. You've got a mouth on you."
Felis shrugged. "And you've got a forge. Figured you'd rather make use of it than waste time assuming things."
Welf studied him for a moment before exhaling sharply. "…What do you need?"
"A full set—chestplate, arm guards, shin guards," Felis listed. "But no helmet, needs to be light but sturdy, something that won't slow me down."
Welf folded his arms, considering. "For what kind of fight?"
"Goliath."
That got a reaction. Welf's brows lifted slightly before he clicked his tongue. "Heh. You've got guts, I'll give you that." He glanced toward his materials. "Deadline?"
"Four days."
Welf scoffed. "Hah! You really don't like making things easy, do you?"
Felis grinned. "Not if I can help it."
Welf exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll have to check my stock. Custom work like that on short notice isn't cheap."
Felis waved a hand. "I can pay. As long as the price isn't ridiculous."
Welf studied him again before nodding. "Alright. I'll need your measurements and a little more detail on what you want. But are you sure didn't need helmet?"
Felis smirked. "Wouldn't fit with the ears." He flicked one of his feline ears for emphasis.
Welf let out a short laugh. "Fair enough. I'll need your measurements and some details on weight balance."
Felis smirked. "Now we're talking."
Welf grabbed a measuring tape from the workbench and gestured for Felis to stand still. "Alright, hold your arms out."
Felis complied, and Welf began taking quick, practiced measurements—shoulders, chest, waist, forearms, legs. The blacksmith muttered to himself as he noted the details on a scrap of parchment.
"So, how do you usually fight?" Welf asked, crouching to measure Felis' shin.
Felis thought for a moment before answering. "I rely on speed. I keep my movements light and quick, aiming for clean strikes rather than trading blows. If things get messy, I have a dagger as a backup."
Welf hummed as he stood up, scratching his chin. "Figures. Agility-based, quick engagements… You're not the type to stand there and take hits." He crossed his arms. "That means heavy plate is out. You need something flexible but tough enough to take a hit."
"Exactly," Felis nodded. "Too much weight will slow me down."
Welf smirked. "Got it. I can do a mix—reinforced leather for mobility, metal plating in key areas for protection. Might even layer in some chainmail where it won't restrict movement."
Felis nodded. "Sounds good. No fancy embellishments. Just something that works."
Welf snorted. "Tch. You think I waste time on decorations?"
"Just making sure."
Welf shook his head, smirking. "Alright, four days. It won't be dirt cheap, but I'll keep it fair."
Felis crossed his arms. "Let's hear the price first."
Welf leaned against the workbench, arms crossed as he considered the cost. "With the materials, labor, and the rush order… I'd normally say around 180,000 valis."
Felis clicked his tongue. "I don't need some noble's parade armor. Just something reliable."
Welf shrugged. "And that's exactly what I'm pricing. Reinforced leather, light metal plating, and some chainmail? That's not cheap, especially if you want it done in four days."
Felis sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright, let's talk. I've already spent a chunk commissioning a sword, and I still need supplies for the expedition. 180,000 is pushing it."
Welf arched a brow. "And what's your counter?"
Felis raised a hand. "140,000."
Welf snorted. "Not happening."
"150,000."
Welf shook his head. "165,000."
Felis narrowed his eyes. "155,000. If you're really about making practical armor and not gouging customers, that should be fair."
Welf exhaled, running a hand through his hair before clicking his tongue. "Tch. Fine. 155,000. But only because I want my work out there."
Felis smirked. "Then you've got yourself a deal." He extended a hand.
Welf grasped it firmly, sealing the agreement. "Come back in four days. I'll have it ready."
Felis nodded. "Looking forward to it."
With that settled, he turned on his heel and exited the smithy. Now, all that was left was preparing the supplies for the trip.