Codex of Predation: Is It Wrong to Steal Goddesses’ Hearts?

As Dante walked ahead, still a bit irritated by what had happened, a sudden thought struck his mind.

'If I enter that state in the city, and there are people around, wouldn't they think I'm some kind of perverted scum?' he pondered, glancing at his dirty, blood-covered, completely naked body.

It was not a pleasant sight. The blood was already beginning to dry in some areas, forming uncomfortable crusts on his skin. The feeling of filth bothered him almost as much as the idea of being misunderstood by any civilization he might encounter.

'At the very least, I need to find a river or lake to wash myself…'

With that in mind, he suddenly stopped and focused all his attention on his hearing. He closed his eyes and stood still, as if trying to become one with the forest.

Aphrodite, who was right behind him, narrowed her eyes when she saw him come to a sudden halt. She watched his rigid posture, as if he were sniffing something in the air.

"What are you doing just standing there?" she asked, her voice still as melodious and enchanting as before. The sweet tone in her voice seemed to soften the atmosphere around them.

Dante didn't respond immediately. He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the surrounding sounds—until, a few seconds later, a faint smile appeared on his lips. He had heard the subtle yet unmistakable sound of running water.

In the same direction they had been heading, the sound of a stream became noticeable.

"Follow me," he said firmly, without turning to Aphrodite. Then, he continued walking toward the sound of the water.

The goddess raised an eyebrow at the commanding tone in his voice but didn't object. She simply smiled softly and followed him with unhurried steps.

Dante activated his "Silent Steps" skill to avoid drawing attention. It was a useful technique, and with it, he could walk over dry leaves and brittle twigs without making the slightest sound. Instinctively, he looked back, ready to warn Aphrodite to tread carefully.

However, upon seeing her, he realized it wasn't necessary.

She walked with supernatural grace, her bare feet touching the ground with surgical precision, as if she were part of nature itself. No twig snapped, no leaf was crushed. Her steps were so subtle that Dante had the impression she floated slightly above the ground, though he knew that wasn't the case.

"How come your steps don't make any noise?" he asked, intrigued.

Aphrodite turned her gaze to him and smiled—a soft, almost amused smile.

"Do you really think something so trivial would be a problem for me, a goddess?" she replied with a touch of haughtiness, though her voice still overflowed with sweetness.

Dante hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Well… no, I suppose not." His mind was still stuck on the image of gods and goddesses from the anime he knew.

He thought for a moment and added, as if reflecting out loud:

"Actually, it really shouldn't be. For someone who's been alive for so long, walking silently shouldn't be a challenge."

There was a curious tone in his voice. Even standing before a divine figure, his mind craved to understand how many layers were still hidden beneath that perfect face.

"Follow me, please. It seems there's a river ahead. I'm going to clean myself in it," Dante said, resuming his walk.

But before he could take another step, he felt a gentle tug on his arm.

He looked down in surprise and saw that it was Aphrodite's hand holding his. She said nothing—just gently slid her hand over his and intertwined their fingers naturally.

"Let's go," she said, smiling with serenity.

Dante, surprised, didn't pull his hand away. On the contrary, he squeezed it gently, feeling the soft, warm skin of the goddess against his. It was a simple gesture, but deeply intimate.

He looked at her with admiration, mentally registering every detail of that face: the smooth contour of her cheeks, the eyes full of life and mystery, the rosy lips that always seemed on the verge of a smile.

'She really is beautiful,' he thought, sighing inwardly.

Aphrodite noticed his gaze and, though she was used to that kind of attention—having been admired by kings, heroes, and even other deities—something about *that* particular look touched her differently. It was sincere. Raw. Without exaggerated lust, just pure admiration.

"Let's go then," Dante said at last, resuming the walk, now hand in hand with the goddess as if they were an unusual couple. It was a strange sight: him, a naked man covered in blood, and her, a flawless divine being, walking together through the forest as if nothing could be more natural.

As they moved forward, Aphrodite had her own thoughts.

'I want to know how you make no sound while walking… as if you were using some kind of skill. Who are you, Dante?'

She looked down, observing how his feet, even stepping on dry leaves and branches, didn't produce any sound. For someone without a Falna or abilities, it was intriguing. It was as if he had become part of the environment—unseen, unheard, almost untouchable.

The sound of water grew louder, indicating they were getting close.

A few minutes later, after passing through denser vegetation, they finally reached a small river of crystal-clear water, gently winding between smooth stones and damp moss.

Dante softly let go of Aphrodite's hand and approached the riverbank, kneeling down. Carefully, he dipped his hands into the cold water and felt a shiver run through his body.

It was refreshing.

He began washing the blood and grime from his skin, scrubbing firmly but cautiously—avoiding reopening wounds that were already starting to heal.

Aphrodite stood nearby, silently watching.

The way he focused on cleaning his body, even through the evident discomfort, revealed something more about his personality. There was resilience there. A quiet determination. And that intrigued her even more.