Danmachi: Exception

Bell's eyes shone with newfound determination. "Thanks, Cyrus. I really appreciate your advice. It's given me a lot to think about-"

A booming voice cut through the tavern's ambient noise, silencing conversations and drawing all eyes to the Loki Familia's table. "Hey! Ais!" The silver-haired werewolf's words slurred slightly as he leaned back in his chair, a wild grin splitting his face. "It's about time you told everyone what happened the other day. It was fuckin' hilarious!"

Ais Wallenstein blinked, her golden eyes reflecting confusion. "What story is that?"

"Come on!" The werewolf's fist met the table with enough force to rattle nearby glasses. "You know what I'm talking about! All those Minotaurs got loose, you had to go up to the fifth floor, right? Where you had to save that tomato dumbass."

Cyrus's eyes narrowed. The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Shit. He's talking about Bell.

The werewolf's grin widened as he settled into full storytelling mode. "Anyways, there was this little pansy running around in there and this big ugly motherfucker starts chasing him. So Ais jumps in and cuts him to pieces, and the little wuss gets absolutely covered in blood! He looks like a big old stupid tomato!" Laughter bubbled up from his throat, harsh and mocking. "And get this - the tomato dumbass just upped and ran away from the one who saved him! HAHAHAHA! WHAT A PATHETIC JACKASS!"

The elegant high elf sitting beside Ais frowned, her jade eyes flashing with disapproval. "That will be quite enough out of you, Bete. The minotaur only escaped the 17th floor because of our mistake. It wasn't the child's fault. Don't even try-"

"WHAT?" Bete's chair screeched against the floor as he lurched to his feet. "The kid bit off more than he could chew trying to be a hero. You can ask Ais, she knows what I'm talking about!" He jabbed a finger toward the Sword Princess. "Tell her the truth!"

Cyrus's attention snapped back to Bell. The young adventurer's shoulders trembled, his face drained of all color. "Oi," Cyrus said, keeping his voice low. "You alright?"

Bell's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. His eyes remained fixed on the Loki Familia's table, wide with a mixture of shame and horror.

Bete's tirade continued, his words growing more vicious with each passing moment. "Who's the stronger and more handsome hero, me? Or that tomato turd?" He swept his arm in a wide arc, nearly knocking over a nearby patron. "I asked you a question, Ais. What would you do if the kid up and told you he had the hots for you? I'm sure you would tell him to get lost, right?"

The diminutive blonde man at the head of the table spoke up. "Uh, Bete? I think you might be drunk."

Bete barreled on, ignoring his words. "I mean, you wouldn't waste your time with someone you could crush. You're WAY too good for a loser like that! Can you imagine a loser like him as your partner? No way. Not THE Ais Wallenstein."

Cyrus's jaw clenched. Every instinct screamed at him to stay out of it. This wasn't his fight. Wasn't his problem. It's none of my business, he told himself. None of my business. None of my...

"Fuck it," Cyrus muttered. He rose from his seat, muscles coiled with tension. In three long strides, he reached the Loki Familia's table. Bete's back was to him, the werewolf still ranting. Cyrus planted his feet, straightened his spine, and spoke with quiet intensity. "Apologize."

The tavern fell silent. All eyes turned to Cyrus, standing like an immovable pillar behind the drunken werewolf. Bete's tirade stuttered to a halt as he slowly turned, lifting his gaze to meet Cyrus's steely glare.

"The fuck did you say?" Bete's words came out as a low growl.

Cyrus didn't flinch. He kept his voice level, each word precise and deliberate. "I said apologize. To the kid you've been mocking over there, and to your familia for making them endure your drunken bullshit."

Bete's eyes narrowed, lips curling back to reveal sharp canines. "And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?"

"Someone with enough common decency to know when a line's been crossed." Cyrus's amber eyes never wavered from Bete's gaze. "You want to get drunk and act like an ass? Fine. But leave the kid out of it."

The werewolf's nostrils flared. He straightened to his full height, standing face to face with Cyrus. "You got a death wish or something? Do you have any idea who I am?"

"No idea who you were." Cyrus's lips quirked in a humorless smile. "Right now? A pathetic drunk picking on someone who can't fight back."

"You little shit," Bete snarled. "I'll tear you apart!"

"Bete." The blonde man's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "That's enough."

The werewolf's head whipped toward his captain. "But Finn he-"

"Sit. Down." There was steel beneath Finn's calm tone.

For a moment, it looked like Bete might argue. Then, with a final glare at Cyrus, he dropped heavily into his chair.

Finn turned to Cyrus, his blue eyes appraising. "I apologize for my familia member's behavior. We'll handle this internally."

Cyrus inclined his head slightly. "Appreciated. Though I'm not the one who deserves the apology."

"Indeed." Finn's gaze shifted to where Bell sat, still frozen in place. "Young man, please accept our sincerest apologies for this... unfortunate incident."

Bell started at being addressed directly. He opened his mouth, closed it, then managed a shaky nod.

The jade-haired elf spoke next. "It seems we owe you a debt, child. The minotaur's escape was our responsibility. That you faced such danger due to our oversight... it shames us."

"I... it's okay," Bell stammered. "I'm just glad no one got hurt."

Her eyes softened. "A gracious response. You show wisdom beyond your years."

Throughout the exchange, Ais Wallenstein remained silent. Her golden eyes moved between Cyrus and Bell, a slight furrow creasing her brow. She seemed to be piecing together a puzzle, though the final picture eluded her.

Cyrus turned back to Bell. Leaving the valis for the meal on the table. "Come on, kid. Let's get some air."

Bell nodded gratefully, rising on unsteady legs. As they made their way toward the exit, Cyrus felt Ais's gaze follow them. He resisted the urge to look back.

The night air hit them like a wall of cool silk, washing away the tavern's stuffy heat. Bell took a deep, shuddering breath. His shoulders slumped as the tension drained from his body.

"You okay?" Cyrus asked, studying the younger adventurer's face.

Bell nodded, then shook his head. "I don't know. That was... a lot."

"Yeah." Cyrus leaned against the tavern's outer wall.

"How did you stand up to him like that?" Bell's voice held a mix of awe and confusion. "Weren't you scared?"

Cyrus considered the question. "Scared? No. Pissed off? Definitely." He met Bell's gaze directly. "Look, being strong doesn't give anyone the right to be an ass. Sometimes you have to stand up for what's right, even if they can kick your ass."

"But... he could have really hurt you."

"Maybe." Cyrus shrugged. "But standing by and doing nothing about it would have hurt worse."

Bell fell silent, digesting this. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Do you think... do you think Miss Wallenstein agrees with him? About me being pathetic?"

Cyrus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Kid, I can't speak for Ais Wallenstein. But from what I've seen? She doesn't strike me as the type to look down on someone for being scared." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Fear's not weakness, Bell. It's how you react to that fear that matters."

"But I ran away." Bell's shoulders hunched. "After she saved me, I just... ran."

"And lived to fight another day." Cyrus's voice hardened. "You were a brand new adventurer facing a monster way above your level. Running was the smart move."

"Really?"

"Really." Cyrus clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, how about we-"

The tavern door swung open, spilling golden light onto the street. Ais Wallenstein stepped out, her hair catching the lamplight. Her eyes found Bell immediately.

"Oh," she said, her voice soft. "You're still here."

Bell went rigid, his face flushing crimson. "M-Miss Wallenstein!"

Cyrus took a step back, giving them space. This wasn't his conversation to have.

Ais tilted her head slightly, studying Bell with those impossibly golden eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes!" Bell's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I mean, yes. I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"Good. I was worried when you left so suddenly."

"I'm sorry about that!" The words tumbled out of Bell in a rush. "I didn't mean to be rude, I was just... overwhelmed."

"I understand." Ais's gaze shifted to Cyrus briefly before returning to Bell. "What Bete said... it wasn't true."

Bell's eyes widened. "It... wasn't?"

"No." Ais shook her head. "You weren't pathetic. You were brave."

"B-brave?" Bell's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes." Ais nodded, her expression earnest. "You faced a monster far beyond your level. You kept running, even when it seemed hopeless. That takes courage."

Bell stood frozen, as if afraid the slightest movement might shatter this moment. Cyrus fought back a smile. The kid's got it bad.

"I..." Bell swallowed hard. "Thank you, Miss Wallenstein. That means a lot coming from you."

Ais nodded again. "Keep training. Keep getting stronger." Her eyes held a hint of... something. Not quite warmth, but not the cool detachment she usually projected. "I look forward to seeing your progress."

With that, she turned and re-entered the tavern, leaving Bell staring after her with a dazed expression.

Cyrus waited a beat, then cleared his throat. "So. That happened."

Bell blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. "Did... did that really just happen?"

"Unless we both hallucinated, yeah." Cyrus's lips curved in a wry smile. "Looks like the Sword Princess thinks you've got potential."

"She said I was brave." Bell's voice held a note of wonder. "And that she's looking forward to seeing my progress."

"Then I guess you'd better not disappoint her, huh?"

Determination blazed in Bell's red eyes. "Never. I'll work harder than ever. I'll become strong enough to stand beside her as an equal."

Cyrus nodded, a hint of approval in his expression. "Good. But remember what I said earlier - don't fixate on catching up to her. Focus on your own growth. On becoming the best version of yourself."

"Right." Bell took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "Thank you, Cyrus. For everything. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't stood up to Bete."

"Don't mention it." Cyrus waved off the gratitude. "Just pay it forward someday. When you're strong enough to stand up for someone else who needs it."

"I will." Bell's voice rang with conviction. "I promise."

As they said their goodbyes, Cyrus couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just witnessed the beginning of something significant. Whether it was the start of a great adventure or a monumental headache remained to be seen.

He turned toward home, his thoughts drifting to Quet. With any luck, she'd be done by now. A rueful smile touched his lips. Who am I kidding? She's probably out somewhere with Demeter.

The stars winked overhead, silent witnesses to the night's events. Somewhere in the vast labyrinth beneath their feet, monsters prowled in eternal darkness. But here, on the moonlit streets of Orario, a young adventurer's dream had taken root. And in the grand tapestry of fate, another thread had been woven - for better or worse.

Cyrus shook his head, banishing such lofty thoughts. With a final glance at the Hostess of Fertility, he set off into the night.