Danmachi: God of Heroes

First-person narration:

The thing is, to make money in Orario, you have to be creative. Since I didn't have a single Valis in my pocket beyond what I was given as a loan, nor a steady job, I had to use the only thing I had: my mouth.

So, I set up my "makeshift stage," so to speak. I quickly realized that if I didn't make it flashy, no one was going to stop. First, I took an old blanket I had somehow gotten my hands on (I can't even remember) and threw it on the ground. Then, I took out the little metal bucket, put it right in the center so people could see it from a distance, and while I was at it, I threw a couple of old coins in it from time to time to make it rattle. The trick is to make everyone think there's some money going around! Nobody wants to be the only one putting nothing in, eh?

With that ready, I stood right in front of the blanket, took a breath, and prepared to attract attention. I looked around and saw that there were a couple of adventurers walking nearby. Some didn't seem interested, but others, as always, can't resist a good story.

I took the pair of stones I had collected earlier and banged them together to make some noise. It wasn't exactly a bell, but people reacted just the same. A few turned around, curious. That was all I needed.

"Hey, you guys!" I shouted, pointing at a group passing by, "Are you bored of hearing the same old stories? I have something that will blow your mind. Come hear the legends of heroes, magic, and mayhem! I promise, you won't regret it."

Almost as if it were another trick, I threw a coin into the bucket and let it rattle a bit loudly. Some of them came closer, and as always, the first one to put something in is the brave one, and the others don't want to be left behind.

"Come on, don't be shy. This story is worth every Valis! And if you don't like it, well, at least you can say that you heard me scream like a madman for a few minutes."

I leaned forward, almost unconsciously, feeling the curious gazes starting to focus on me. I smiled sideways, knowing that once I started, there would be no turning back.

"Listen carefully, because this story is not like the others," I began, casting a defiant look at the people in front of me. "This is not a fairy tale, nor a pretty legend that one tells to put one to sleep. No, what I am going to tell you is one of blood, fire and destiny. And no, I am not exaggerating. This was a story of pure chaos."

I straightened up a little, and the murmur in the air died away. It was time.

"Imagine a battlefield. Not just any battlefield! One where knights, in shining armor, and common soldiers, fought endlessly, their swords clashing, the sound of steel ringing all around. On the other side, the barbarians, in their wild fury, advanced mercilessly, showing no mercy. Both sides clashed, fighting as if fate itself depended on that fight."

I paused, letting the image of war sink into their minds.

"But then… something changed. Suddenly, the sky, that clear sky, began to turn a deep red, as if hell itself had opened wide. And from it… meteorites fell. But they weren't ordinary meteorites, no! They were fireballs, so bright green that the light illuminated the darkness like a curse fallen from the sky."

I moved a little closer to the audience, letting the atmosphere become more tense.

"And as the battle raged, and those meteorites rained down on both sides, destroying everything in their path, a figure appeared in the midst of all the chaos. In the mist, a hooded figure, as if the future itself was there, watching everything from the shadows."

I paused dramatically, looking intently at the crowd.

"And it was then, amidst the destruction, that the figure spoke. 'You must fight,' it said, in a deep, almost unearthly voice. 'And lead your people to their destiny.'"

The crowd was completely silent now, caught up in every word. I took advantage of the moment and let the tension build a little further.

"Did you hear him? His destiny was not on that battlefield. His destiny was much greater! And when he awoke from that clear vision, he felt that the world around him had changed forever. What had once seemed like just another war had become a matter of survival, of destiny."

I straightened up, my gaze fixed on some of those listening.

"But now the question is, what would he do with it? Would he keep fighting, or would he risk his way out of the chaos to seek something even greater? What was coming didn't just affect his people, it affected the entire world!"

I took a deep breath, letting the question hang in the air for a second. Then I leaned back a little, giving the crowd time to digest it.

"So there you have it… it's not just a vision. It's the beginning of a story, and that story… doesn't end here. No, it never ends."

The faces of the audience reflected a mixture of intrigue and excitement. That was what I was looking for! Although, of course, it was still not enough to fill the bucket. But at least I had their attention.

With a sly smile, Xander paused and then continued, his voice deepening as he began to weave the next part of the story.

"As he woke up in the middle of the rainy night, the air thick and heavy with the scent of the storm, something strange happened. He stepped out of his tent, looking out towards the horizon, when… when a crow, yes, a crow! flew towards him. But it wasn't just any crow, oh no! This one had blood-red eyes, and it wasn't just here to perch!"

Xander raised a hand and twirled it, dramatizing the scene. His audience's eyes didn't move.

"This raven spoke to him. In the midst of the darkness, in the midst of the storm, its words cut through the air like a sharp knife. It told him about its vision, it told him that he was not alone in his destiny, that something even greater awaited him. And then, the raven… asked him to follow it."

Xander took a step forward, approaching the audience with more intensity.

Xander hunched over slightly, making his voice take on a low, somber tone as he paused, letting the audience settle in. Then he looked up at them, eyes shining with a hint of excitement.

"A cliff. Dark. The storm raging behind them." Xander said, pointing up at the imaginary sky. Then he paused for added drama. "A raven had guided our man, our leader… to the truth."

Xander tensed, adopting a solemn, almost respectful posture as he let out a deep breath. He began:

"Suddenly, a figure emerged from the mist." Xander leaned forward, his words coming out with the gravity of someone who was delivering a revelation. "A man… no, a shadow, with a cloak covering everything. He was not human, no! That being had long since left his humanity behind! And with a voice that seemed to bring with it the storm, he spoke…"

With a theatrical movement, Xander raised his hands, one hand extended toward the sky and the other over his chest, bringing the figure of the prophet to life.

"Greetings, son of Durotan! I knew you would find your way…" Xander said in a deep, mysterious voice, lifting his chin as if he were looking into the distance. Then, his tone turned slightly mocking, as if he were in Thrall's place, confused and defiant.

"Who are you!? How do you know me!?" Xander exclaimed, making his voice higher, as if he were Thrall speaking disdainfully. He leaned forward slightly to create the feeling of confrontation.

Then Xander immediately switched to the low, resonant voice of the prophet, raising his head in wisdom, while his eyes seemed to be lost in the void, looking towards the horizon.

"I know many things, young warchief, about you and your people. My identity, at this moment, is not important. What matters is that you reunite with your people and leave these shores immediately."

Xander raised a hand, as if clearing the fog of Thrall's confusion, then resumed his protagonist's defiant tone, with more fury.

"Leave!? What is this all about, human!?" he exclaimed, almost a scream. And immediately he sank into a more solemn posture, reflecting the gravity of what the prophet was about to say.

"Human?… I left my humanity behind long ago…" Xander said, his voice dropping even lower, as if the words were imbued with some ancient, terrifying wisdom. He dropped into a low whisper. "I'm something… different now." A brief silence.

With an even more serious look, Xander continued to play the prophet, now with the strongest tone he had used so far:

"I know what's coming… The great burning… The shadow that's coming to consume this world! You feel it too, don't you?" Xander waved his hands dramatically, as if he were describing an impending darkness.

"The demons… they're coming back!" Xander said in a skeptical tone, following Thrall's words, now beginning to share that same feeling.

Xander continued, delving deeper into the story, his voice heavy with the voice of a man who has seen the future and the ruins of what is to come.

"Yes… And only by leading your people across the sea, to the far lands of Kalimdor, will you have a chance to stand against them!" His voice rose in intensity, and the audience seemed to be on the edge of their seats.

Xander raised his hand to signal that there were no more answers for now, embodying the prophet again. "Answer all your questions in due time, young warchief… Now, gather your warriors and prepare to leave this land. We will speak again."

At that moment, Xander made a sudden turn, as if the prophet were leaving, and then turned back to his audience, the intensity of the scene still etched on his face.

"And so he was gone, flying away… leaving our man, our leader, standing there, with a million doubts filling his mind, but a voice, a whisper, deep within him was telling him…"

Xander paused for a second, staring at his listeners. Then, in a soft, almost hesitant voice, he said, playing Thrall, uncertainty creeping into his tone:

"None of this makes sense, but the spirits tell me… that I should… trust him."

With a sweeping gesture, Xander brought the scene to a close, letting the echo of his final words resonate through the room as his audience seemed to take in everything that had been said.

"Three days later…"

Xander moved a little closer to his audience, making the atmosphere more intimate. In a deeper tone, he continued:

"Near the coast of Lordaeron, the wind brought with it a heavy air, and Thrall, in his camp, felt the uncertainty gnawing at him."

Xander frowned, playing Thrall with a serious expression. "It's been three days and this… prophet has yet to show himself. I hope I'm not making a huge mistake in trusting him." He said in a deep voice, reflecting Thrall's doubts.

The scene became dynamic when Xander immediately stood up straight, playing the part of an energetic soldier.

"Warchief!" Xander said, adopting a deep voice, imitating a burly barbarian with a helmet and leather armor, before pausing and continuing, "The clans are gathering as you ordered, but it will take time for them to reach us."

Just as quickly, Xander switched to Thrall's voice, adopting a commanding stance. "Then we must prepare this camp immediately. I want my warriors to have food and proper lodging when they arrive."

Xander gestured again as if he were carefully reviewing maps or blueprints. "Yes, Warchief." He continued, acting like the Grunt as he nodded.

Xander then turned to his audience with a slight smile, knowing what was coming next. "And what about Grom Hellscream?" He said, imitating Thrall's voice. "The Warsong clan was supposed to be here by now."

Xander then switched to a worried, rougher tone, playing the part of a Grunt who faithfully followed orders. "No, Warchief. We haven't heard from Hellscream in a while."

"Damn it, Grom… Where the hell are you?" Xander, playing Thrall's anger, clenched his fists and raised them slightly, as if he could sense the character's frustration.

In one fluid motion, Xander continued the story, putting a twist on the action. He paused dramatically, before recounting the following:

"And meanwhile, the future was about to change for everyone… when humans built a bridge across the river…"

Xander stood up and began to walk slowly in circles, setting the stage for the next act. "At that moment, something cracked in the air. Tension rose as the human captain approached with his men…"

And again, Xander changed his tone, bringing the human captain to life with a firm, authoritative voice.

"You are violating the Alliance's Internment Law! We have already captured one of your leaders! If you surrender now, we will spare your lives!"

Xander raised a hand, as if pointing out the situation directly to the audience. "Warchief! They say they've captured one of our leaders!" he said, acting as the Grunt again, letting fear and uncertainty show in his voice. "Do they mean Grom?"

Xander frowned decisively, taking the stance of a leader who shows no fear. "I hope not… But if they have captured Hellscream, I will make them regret it…!" Xander paused dramatically after his shout, and in Thrall's determined voice, he shouted, "Lok-Tar Ogar! Come on, my warriors! We must drive the humans back!"

The atmosphere was filled with intensity as Xander closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again, as if he were living the scene. He looked at his audience with an almost defiant smile.

Xander continued, his voice deep and heavy with tension, gesturing as if a fight was about to break out in front of them.

"The battle began immediately. The human captain charged forward, his sword gleaming in the dim morning light. But he was not alone. At least five other warriors accompanied him. They were ready for anything, confident in their numbers. But they did not know what awaited them."

Xander raised a hand, mimicking the quick movements of combat. His words rose with the same fury that raged through the story.

"The captain struck first, his sword slicing through the air in a deadly swing. But the warchief did not back down. With a fierce cry, he deflected the blow and struck back with his own strength. The fight became a clash of titans, metal against metal, blood against iron."

His hands moved through the air as if the fighters' swords could actually touch space. Each gesture was dramatic, as if he were experiencing it himself.

"The swords clashed, resounding like war drums. One of the warriors tried to attack from behind, but the chief was prepared. With a quick turn, he knocked him to the ground with a brutal blow, his companions were quick to rush forward, trying to finish him off."

Xander walked across the stage, representing the warriors fighting with fury and determination.

"The warchief moved with the skill of a veteran. He disarmed one of the attackers, using his own weight to force him to his knees, then ripped the captain's sword from his grasp and plunged it into his torso. The captain attempted one more attack, but was greeted with a bolt of lightning that sent him flying backwards, crashing to the ground with a crash."

He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow, as if the fight was about to end.

"But there were more. Four more warriors who would not yield. The fight continued, a deadly dance between overwhelming forces. One by one, soldiers were cut down, weapons thrown away with brutal force, until the last enemy lay on their knees, defeated."

Xander paused, staring out at the audience, excitement shining in his eyes. "In the end, only one remained… the captain. With every blow, with every fall, the advantage was gained. Victory was inevitable. Finally, the captain was struck down, his sword broken and his will broken."

Xander closed his eyes for a moment, as if remembering what had happened, and then let out a low laugh, finishing strongly:

"And so, the fight was over. With the battlefield littered with fallen bodies, and the warchief standing victorious."

Xander continued with the story, keeping the tension:

"With the enemies defeated on the battlefield, the warchief wasted no time. He quickly made his way towards the human base. Within its walls, the soldiers had not expected such a fierce assault. A group of them tried to confront the leader, but were easily swept aside. Every blow, every thrust, every spell, was accurate. There was no mercy."

He paused for a moment to look at the audience, then continued with the same energy:

"As he advanced through the base, he found his comrades held captive in cages. He did not hesitate for a second. With a mighty blow, he destroyed the locks and freed the prisoners. The warriors, grateful and ready to fight, joined their leader. Together, they destroyed the last human soldiers who tried to resist."

Xander paused to emphasize the ending:

"With his warriors free and the human base in ruins, the warrior chief took one last look toward the horizon, knowing that the war had only just begun. But for now, victory was his."

He quickly collected the coins thrown by the audience, pleased with the reaction.

Xander straightened up and looked at his audience, knowing that they had already reached the climax of the story. With a slight smile, he began to perform again.

"And finally the warchief reached the shore, where, at the bottom, lay the cage containing Grom."

Xander walked a couple of steps to the side, mimicking Thrall's movement, as if he were approaching the cage.

"Grom, are you okay?" Xander asked in a deep, concerned voice, playing Thrall as he crouched slightly, hands outstretched in front of him, as if he were actually searching for his companion.

Xander then switched to a rougher, Grom-like voice, with a dismissive, confident tone.

"I'm fine, little brother. Luckily, they only hurt my pride." Xander let out a mocking laugh, imitating Grom's defiant attitude despite the circumstances.

With a quick turn, Xander assumed Thrall's stance, standing tall and determined, and spoke again, this time with more energy and urgency.

"Great, because we are leaving here now. We will leave these lands forever." He said, with the tone of a leader who knows what he must do, without looking back.

Then he walked slowly towards the audience, as if he was moving forward into the future, following Grom, and said:

"Finally, follow me. I have an idea." Xander would mimic Grom's determination, as if he were already seeing the future clearly.

He stopped and looked out at the horizon, shifting his posture, as if observing the river in front of him. "Grom walked to the shore, his eyes fixed on the human boats moored there, waiting to be used…"

Xander came closer, and in a deeper voice, he played Grom as he described the scene.

"We can set sail on your own ships," he said in a defiant tone, as if he were ready to take what was his.

Xander turned to the audience, as if he were Thrall himself, and replied:

"Perfect. But we'll have to wait for the rest of the Horde…" Now, his tone softened a bit, as he thought about the difficulties that still remained.

He acted firmly, as if he were the Grunt, and replied in a deep, respectful voice.

"The Horde is assembled, Warchief. We await only your command."

Xander looked around as if watching the warriors prepare, and suddenly looked up into Thrall's determined face.

"Come on, my warriors!" he shouted, as if giving the final order, "We must set sail!"

Xander quickly took in the Prophet's presence. There was a mix of mystery and urgency in his voice.

"No, go, young Thrall." Xander said in a deep, resonant tone, putting on his makeshift hood to perform the Prophet's mystery, looking beyond the audience, as if the Prophet were there, watching them from afar. "Sail westward, to the lands of Kalimdor. There you will find your destiny. There the salvation of your people will be assured."

Xander paused for a moment, staring straight ahead as if the Prophet's answer was hanging in the air. Then he turned to the audience, smirking, and concluded:

"And so, with renewed hope, the journey to Kalimdor began... The fate of the Horde, the fate of their people, was in their hands. But, as always, uncertainty accompanied them."

Xander paused for a moment, enjoying the momentary silence, before leaning down slightly and picking up a few coins that fell to the ground. Then, he smiled confidently and continued his tale, prepared for whatever came next.

After a couple of seconds of silence, applause began to echo through the air, and Xander couldn't help but smile at the audience's enthusiasm. Some were shouting loudly, asking for more.

"Please continue! We want to know what happens next!"

Xander, raising a hand to quiet the hubbub, paused for a moment dramatically before speaking.

"Wow, wow! How exciting!" he said with a laugh, shrugging playfully. "But don't get ahead of yourself, folks. The story continues… but, not today."

The murmuring intensified for a moment, but Xander waved his hand for silence.

"I already said it, the continuation will be another time. The Horde has many more battles to fight, and the demons... well, those guys aren't going to go away that easily." Xander turned around quickly, showing that he was enjoying the drama. "So, for now, it will be until next time. Stick with the mystery for a while, huh?"

The last of the applause faded as people dispersed, some satisfied with what they had heard, others eager for what was to come next. Xander relaxed, glancing at the coins already beginning to pile up in the bucket.

Xander ended his story with a dramatic flourish, dropping the final note as the audience reacted. Applause began to fill the air, and some even shouted for him to continue, but he held up a hand to quiet the crowd.

"Oh no! That will have to wait for another time, folks. Who knows what new twists the story will take?" Xander said with a knowing smile, running his fingers along the edge of the bucket to feel the coins he had collected.

But then, from behind him, a familiar voice interrupted.

"I expected nothing less from you, Xander."

Xander turned quickly, finding Alise, who was watching him with a satisfied smile.

"What a well-told story! Are you sure you're not confusing yourself with the characters you're playing? Because if I'm not mistaken, you've just made the entire audience feel like they were living it firsthand."

Xander shrugged, unable to help a proud smile.

"It's not that big of a deal, Alise. I just gave them what they wanted. Who could resist a good show, right?"

Alise raised an eyebrow and let out a soft laugh.

"A show, of course! I'd say you've earned a standing ovation. And more than one person here will remember you for a long time for this performance. I was convinced that you really were the prophet for a moment!"

Xander laughed, adding a playful touch to his performance.

"Who knows? Maybe I should start charging admission for my performances. It wouldn't be a bad idea."

Alise nodded, pretending to think about it for a second.

"Just make sure you don't forget about us fans, okay?" he said in a mischievous tone.

Xander raised his hand in an oath, as if he were a big theater star.

"I promise. The autographs will be for sale... although, I warn you, they will be exclusive and expensive."

Alise laughed and shook her head.

"I think I'd rather keep watching you do those stories live. Although, don't forget that I already owe you a favor. Let's see if you can do another show like that for me, but at another time."

Xander made a face of exaggerated dread, as if he were tormenting himself with the debt.

"Don't make me think about that… with what you owe me, you've already left me almost bankrupt!"

They both laughed as the crowd began to disperse, some still chatting about what they had just witnessed.

Alise looked at Xander with a mischievous smile as she crossed her arms.

"You know, Xander... running a stand like this without the proper permits is pretty illegal, huh? It could get you in trouble with the city authorities."

Xander raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

"Really? And I thought that the fame of my acting exonerated me from such things," he said, smiling as he pocketed some of the coins he had collected.

Alise leaned towards him, getting close enough to whisper in a conspiratorial tone.

"Well… let's just say that this time I'm going to pretend I didn't see anything. But next time, you better have your license in order, or you could end up doing a show… but in jail!"

Xander couldn't help but laugh, one hand lifting the overflowing bucket of coins.

"You almost make me think you're going to arrest me at any moment, Alise! But I appreciate the favor… for now."

Alise made a theatrical gesture with her hand.

"Don't be so nervous. I'm just a friend who doesn't want to see her friend in trouble. But don't forget, Xander, that not everyone here is as nice as I am."

Xander looked at her with a mocking smile.

"So I'm lucky to have such a generous vigilante as a friend?"

Alise gave him a mischievous look.

"Of course. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a law enforcement officer willing to look the other way… just this once."

Xander laughed and shook the bucket of coins.

"I'll have to make the most of this, then. Next time I'll treat you to a banquet to thank you!"

Alise nodded with a smile, crossing her arms.

"I hope so... and remember, no more unauthorised montages!"

With one last amused glance, the two began walking through the city, conversation flowing naturally as evening slowly fell upon Orario.

Alise smiled with an amused expression as she looked at Xander, her tone becoming a little more playful.

"Well, Xander, if you do something like this again without permission, I will drag you to the guild office myself so you can get your papers in order."

Xander looked at her with a raised eyebrow, feigning horror.

"Do you really think I'd let you drag me along, Alise? You might have a bit of a logistical problem, you know… I'm not exactly easy to handle."

Alise watched him with a confident smile, crossing her arms.

"Oh, don't worry. I know the right people. And if I have to, I'll tie you up and carry you around like a sack of potatoes!"

Xander laughed at the unsubtle threat.

"Well, well, I'll make sure to keep everything in order… just to avoid that unpleasant situation."

Alise leaned back in relief.

"I hope so! Because if I ever have to go that far, you're not going to like anything that comes next."

Xander, still laughing, lifted the bucket full of coins.

"You have my word, Alise. No trouble with the law… for now."

They shared a smile, knowing that deep down, Alise's threat was just a joke. But Xander didn't doubt that if push came to shove, she really would drag him to the guild office.

Xander looked at the bucket filled with Valis and picked it up, letting out a small grunt as he tried to balance it in his hands. It was rather heavy and he had a hard time keeping up as he walked.

"Damn, these damn Valis!" Xander growled, nearly tripping over the weight of the bucket. "Seriously, can't you do something to make them more evenly distributed?"

Alise, who had been watching him with a light smile, let out an amused laugh.

"I see gold isn't your thing, huh? Here, let me help you."

Without another word, she walked over to him and, with unexpected speed, took the bucket from his hands. Xander, surprised, watched as she carried it without problem.

"How do you make it so easy?" he asked, stretching out his arms to relieve the pain.

"Simple, I don't spend my time counting coins while talking like a madman." Alise smiled as she continued walking, as if she was carrying an empty box. "And if you want, I can help you count all this too. Because otherwise it will take you hours to do it alone."

Xander looked at her for a moment and then shrugged, resigned.

"You are within your rights. I do not have the strength or patience to do this alone."

Alise began counting the coins with surprising efficiency, each Valis falling to the ground with a metallic clink that echoed through the air.

"Seriously, Xander, you might want to learn to manage your finances better. It really seems like this whole process is costing you more than it should."

Xander, not missing the opportunity to poke fun at it a bit, replied:

"I know, I know. At least you haven't dragged me to jail… yet."

Alise, as she counted the last coins, laughed and gave him a mocking look.

"You're lucky I'm the one helping you. Jail isn't fun for anyone."

Xander grimaced in disgust, but couldn't help but smile at how Alise, despite her jokes, took her task and justice so seriously. At least, for now, the money problem didn't seem so serious.

Alise dropped the last coin into the bucket, and Xander stared at her with wide eyes. "7,500 Valis? Really?" His voice held a hint of disbelief. "All this for a story? I can't even believe it…"

Alise, with a satisfied smile, nodded as she organized the coins. "I told you, didn't I? Stories well told are worth more than you think. And if you manage to keep people glued to you like you did, then this is just the beginning."

Xander let out a nervous laugh, looking at the pile of Valis as if it was something completely unexpected. "So many people willing to pay for a good story? I didn't think it would be that easy."

Alise looked at him mockingly. "Don't act surprised, Xander. You know as well as I do that in Orario, everything is driven by money. And if you can offer something of value... then the gold comes naturally."

Xander nodded, still a little stunned. "I guess in the end, storytelling comes at a price, too."

Alise put the last pair of Valis into the bucket and held it up, playfully adding a hint to the topic. "And if you don't want to do it, I can always take you to jail so you can learn how to handle your own affairs. But I doubt it, from what I see, you're already getting used to winning with these things."

Xander let out a dramatic sigh, scratching his head. "Great, you're putting me in a moral quandary. But yeah, it sounds like I'm going to like this."

The two of them walked towards their next destination, the sound of Valis's full bucket echoing through the air. Xander looked at Alise, then at the bucket, and for a brief moment, he realized that perhaps his boredom had led him somewhere more profitable than he had imagined. A couple more steps and the smile forming on his face was overshadowed by the arrival of two figures at the end of the street.

Ryuu and Kaguya approached, walking with calm steps. Ryuu, always so composed, had an expression that was difficult to read, but her eyes reflected a slight concern, as if she were searching for something more in the scene. Alise had been looking in Xander's direction, so when her gaze met Ryuu's, there was no surprise.

"Everything okay?" Ryuu asked, without losing his usual calm, almost as if he already knew the answer, but with a slight shadow of concern.

Kaguya, on the other hand, wasted no time. With a slightly mocking smile, she took a step forward, looking at Xander curiously. "So this is the famous storyteller you were talking about earlier?" Her tone was playful, but also held a hint of defiance. She crossed her arms in the typical confident stance of someone who had already formed her own opinion, about everything. "I didn't know that the gods in Orario were into street performances."

Xander raised an eyebrow, feeling Kaguya's observation take him in completely, but not being intimidated. His gaze met Ryuu's, who didn't seem all that interested, but rather wary. He wasn't sure if the girl was actually challenging him or just having fun in her own way, but he wasn't one to be swayed that easily.

"I'm Xander," he replied with a confident smile, trying not to let the atmosphere get too tense. "Ryuu," the elf answered with just her name, awkwardly. With that the god continued, "And if I ever need a little 'constructive criticism,' I know who to ask."

Kaguya chuckled, a glint of amusement in her eyes, but Ryuu didn't seem to share the same appreciation for the attitude. She sighed softly, turning her face slightly so as not to get too involved in the playful tone of the situation.

"Kaguya, be a little more polite," Ryuu said, his voice calm but firm. "Please don't make him feel uncomfortable."

Alise let out a soft laugh, enjoying the interaction. "Don't worry, Xander is used to the company of... interesting people."

Xander relaxed a little, seeing that the situation wasn't going to get any more awkward. Although he wasn't entirely sure what to expect from Kaguya, the atmosphere between everyone became friendlier. Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all, if he could count on such… varied company…

First-person narration:

As I walked through the streets of Orario, carrying the bucket of coins Alise had given me, a strange feeling washed over me. I had accomplished something. Something bigger than I had ever imagined when I arrived here. This bucket, filled with Valis, represented more than just money; it was tangible proof that I could survive in this chaotic city. But it wasn't just that. I looked at the coins, counting them in my head, and an idea began to form in my mind.

Paying off the debt… yeah, sure, that was the first step. I didn't want any more favors, I didn't want to continue being a "debtor" to anyone, nor depend on the help of others. But I also realized something: Orario wasn't just a city for survival. This was a city of opportunity. All of us who had come here, from the gods to the adventurers, had come looking for something. Be it fame, fortune, or something as simple as a purpose.

Alise, Kaguya, Ryuu… they had something I hadn't had much time to think about. A reason for being here. A familia. A group they could count on, with whom they shared more than just space, but a history. And that… that began to resonate with me. I might not have noticed it at first, but now, with every step I took through the bustling streets, I realized that I, too, needed more than just survival.

Something that gave me purpose. Because what was all this but a constant struggle for something more? My stories, my performances, my efforts to earn some money… all of that didn't make much sense if there wasn't something else to sustain it. If there wasn't something to fight for, something to strive for, beyond the coins.

It wasn't going to be easy. Orario was not a kind place. Here, every day was a battle, whether against monsters, debts, or even yourself. But I had something I'd never had before. A purpose. And with this new vision, maybe I could even start my own familia here. Maybe with people like Alise, who had already proven willing to lend a hand, or perhaps with other adventurers I might get to know later on. I didn't have all the answers, but one thing was clear: Orario was a place to find your purpose, and now it was up to me to decide mine.

"One step at a time, Xander," I told myself, gripping the bucket tighter as the crowd continued to pass by me, oblivious to my moment of reflection. "First the debt, then… then we'll see."

Night had fallen upon Orario, and with it, the city had fallen into a different hustle and bustle. The streets, though still bustling, had a different feel to them, more relaxed in some areas and more dangerous in others. From the window of my room at the inn, I could see the moon shining down on the rooftops, while a feeling of satisfaction washed over me. It had been a good day. One that left me with more than I had expected when I woke up that morning.

I sighed, settling into bed with my arms behind my head, ready to let the exhaustion do its work. But, as if fate refused to give me a break, a sudden commotion in the street interrupted my tranquility.

I frowned, sitting up in bed. Raised voices, a heated argument. I walked over to the window and looked out to see the source of the commotion: a silver-haired elf with a hard expression and aggressive body language, arguing with someone whose face I couldn't see properly from where I was standing.

The elf spoke in a dry, cutting tone, with a harshness that left no room for doubt. Every word that came out of his mouth seemed to be sharp as a sword, cutting off any attempt at a retort. However, despite his hostile attitude, there was something in his posture… something subtle, almost imperceptible, that told me that he was not just a simple troublemaker looking for trouble.

I watched in silence for a few seconds. I had no idea who he was or what the argument was about, but one thing was certain: this city never slept. And apparently, it wouldn't let me sleep either.

I couldn't help but let out a sigh of annoyance as the noise in the street continued. It seemed that neither of them had any intention of lowering their voices, and my patience, after such a long day, was not up to tolerating other people's arguments.

Without thinking twice, I flung open the window and stuck my head out, launching my complaint with all the authority of someone who just wanted to sleep in peace.

"SHUT UP! Let people sleep in peace!, dammit!"

The elf stopped his argument for a second and looked up at me, a frown on his face and an expression of utter disdain.

"And who the hell are you, a walking dung sack?" he blurted out without hesitation, in the dry, sharp tone of someone who clearly had no patience for interruptions.

I stood frozen for a second, staring at the elf. Normally, I would have let out another complaint, but something in his tone, in his defiant gaze, made me snort.

"Really?" I replied, in a mocking tone. "Are you going to insult me ​​from there like you're the king of rude people? If you're going to yell, at least come and do it in my face, you bastard..."

He was silent for a few seconds. For a moment, I thought he would ignore me, but I could see in his eyes that the anger had not gone away. His mouth curved into a sneer, and before I knew it, he was already crossing the street with firm steps, coming closer. I couldn't help but think that, somehow, the confrontation was becoming personal.

"What you don't understand," he said as he came closer, "is that in this world, the weak don't survive. And the fact that you dared to interrupt me…" He took another step, and in the blink of an eye he was standing under my window, so close I could smell the fresh air on his cloak. "That has a price."

He looked up, waiting for a response from me, and for a second, tension hung in the air. I stared at the elf, my throat dry with frustration.

"The price of being an idiot, huh?" I replied, and I could see that, for a moment, he looked surprised.

A long silence fell between the two, but somehow that look of defiance changed. There was a flash of something in his expression. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was respect.

"That's strange," he muttered, "you look like you can't even stand up by yourself, but you have some courage... That, at least, I respect."

Before I could think much about his words, the elf smiled again, but this time it was a sardonic smile, almost as if he were mocking himself. "I'm not foolish enough to continue arguing with you, but I am foolish enough to offer you a drink. It seems we both need to relax."

I looked at him, bewildered by the sudden change. How drunk was he to do something so... human? But before I could answer, he was already turning around and heading to a nearby tavern.

Disbelief hit me hard, and the voice in my head told me to ignore him. But then, something about that offer, about the surprise that an elf with such an attitude decided to share a drink with me, made me decide to follow him.

We walked through the door of the tavern, and the loud, laughter-filled atmosphere immediately enveloped us. We sat at a table far away, facing each other, as the waitress brought a couple of mugs of ale. The elf barely looked at the drink, but his eyes remained fixed on me, as if he were assessing more than just the situation.

An awkward silence reigned for a few seconds, until he finally broke the ice. "I never imagined humans had anything more than screams and idiocy. You have some… courage, at least."

I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. "What about you? I thought elves only cared about their ancestral shit and walking around with an air of superiority. Don't you have a tree to take care of or something?"

The elf laughed, a low but genuine sound. "You're going to be a pain in the ass," he hissed, but his tone had softened. "And that, for some reason, pleases me."

I was silent for a moment, then raised my mug and clinked it against his. "To the health of the rude."

…

Ugh, what a headache... where... where am I?

I felt a persistent pounding in my head.

I blinked a few times, trying to remember why the hell I felt like I had been run over by a carriage.

When I managed to focus my vision, I realized I wasn't in my room at the inn. No. I was on the floor, on a sticky wooden floor that smelled of spilled beer and bad decisions.

I groaned, bringing a hand to my forehead, and that's when I saw it.

Beside me, the elf from last night was slumped in a manner that defied all logic. He was face down, one arm bent at a questionable angle, one leg propped up on a chair, the other bent unnaturally. To make matters worse, he was shirtless, and an empty mug of ale rested a few inches from his hand, as if he had fallen in battle after one last heroic drink.

I stared at the scene in disbelief before letting out a hoarse whisper:

"What the hell happened last night?"

The elf grunted something unintelligible and stirred slightly, but did not fully awaken. I was not sure if I should be concerned about his condition or simply admire his ability to sleep in such an uncomfortable position.

I tried to get up, but dizziness made me stagger and I had to put one hand on the nearest table. My clothes smelled of alcohol and smoke, and in my pocket I noticed something strange. I pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with what looked like a bet written on it… in my own handwriting.

"I won a bet… about what?"

I looked at the elf, expecting some miraculous answer, but he was still unconscious.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I needed water. And answers. Preferably in that order.

I froze.

It couldn't be.

I blinked several times, as if that would make what I was seeing disappear. But no, the image was still there.

On the elf's bare back, barely visible in the dim light filtering into the tavern, was a set of symbols written clumsily, almost as if a child with the pulse of a drunk had traced them.

No. No, no, no.

I put my hands on my head, feeling the cold of reality hitting me harder than the hangover. I recognized it. Damn it, I recognized it.

It was a Falna. MY Falna.

I had given him my blessing.

To the elf.

To a complete stranger.

A tingle ran through my body, a mix of disbelief, panic and a bit of hysterical laughter wanting to escape my throat. How the hell did this happen?

I looked at the blessing again. The writing was crooked, curled in such an absurd way that it looked like it had been drawn by a child with a paintbrush in a storm. It didn't even have a decent shape.

"Oh, for heaven's sake…" I muttered, running my hand over my face.

The elf groaned in his sleep and stirred a little, but he was still unconscious. How was he going to explain this to him when he woke up?

I froze.

It wasn't just the Falna on his back.

Next to him, right on the ground, was a small makeshift altar. It was made of empty bottles, pieces of wood that were badly arranged, and a melted candle that looked like it had been lit at some point during the night. It was a mess.

But what really took my breath away was the faint trace of my Arcanum floating above him.

Almost imperceptible. Barely a whisper in the air, a tiny but unmistakable presence.

This was not normal.

The Falna could happen without me realizing it if I was drunk and relaxed enough, yes, but… How the hell had part of my essence ended up on an altar?

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the situation crashing down on me. This wasn't just a drunken mistake. Something happened last night. Something I didn't remember.

I looked at the elf, who was still sleeping in a ridiculous pose, his mouth half open, his chest rising and falling calmly. Did he know something? What the hell did we do?

I rubbed my temples, feeling a throbbing hangover and stress building in my head.

I stared at the elf's back…

Veldrin Lightstorm

Level 1

Strength: I0

Endurance: I0

Dexterity: I0

Agility: I0

Magic: I0

---

Magic:

Burn Mana: Magic without chant. Sends a beam of negative energy that burns 15% of the target's mind, dealing damage in proportion to the mind eliminated. Requires the magic stat to be different than I0.

Immolation: Magic without chant. Generates a small layer of flames around the user, consumes mind while active

Skills:

Incarnation (Demon Hunter): Through the altar of the elders, the body adapts to the Demon Hunter's history. Manifestation of Demon Hunter Skills and Magic

Veldrin Lightstorm.

That was his name.

And just below, the status that had been granted to it.

Level 1. All stats at I0, completely new, without having touched the battlefield yet.

But then… her magic and abilities.

My eyes were drawn to the description of "Incarnation (Demon Hunter)."

A chill ran down my spine.

What the hell did I do last night?

The skill spoke of an altar… the makeshift altar that stood beside him. Something happened to my Arcanum. Something that allowed this guy to inherit not just a Falna, but the echo of a past hero.

The Demon Hunter.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece together the sequence of events. My power didn't work like the other gods. My Falna didn't just strengthen an adventurer, it somehow reincarnated a heroic soul within them.

"Why am I still here?"

That was the question that was pounding in my head as I continued to look at Veldrin's condition.

The gods were not allowed to use their Arcanum in the mortal world. It was an absolute rule. As soon as one god tried to do so, all the others felt it. And the instant that happened, the force of the world would tear you away from Orario and send you back to heaven.

There were no exceptions.

But I was still here.

I felt the same air, the same ground under my feet, the same hangover that was slowly killing me.

I had not been banished. No other god had sensed what I did.

Or rather… what I did was not detected as a use of Arcanum.

My Falna worked differently. It wasn't just a blessing… it was an incarnation. And if the world system hadn't identified it as a violation of the rules…

It meant that he had found a crack in them.

If this was true… if I could really grant abilities and magic from the start, then I had in my hands something that no other god in Orario had.

An overwhelming advantage.

Normally, adventurers could train for years without gaining a single skill or magic. It was a matter of talent, effort, luck, and circumstances. Some never got them, no matter how hard they tried.

But I…

I could give them directly.

This changed everything.

If I could repeat what I did with Veldrin, then it meant I could create heroes. I didn't have to wait years for them to develop abilities. I could give them power that matched the story they carried in their souls.

And in Orario, where each familia sought power, where the gods fought to attract the most promising adventurers…

This was more than an advantage.

But he had to be careful. Extremely careful.

If other gods found out what I could do, they would not only send me back to Tenkai, but they would probably hunt down my adventurers.

In Orario, power was everything. If someone found out that I could grant skills and magic early on, there would be gods who would try to take advantage of me, and others who would simply want to eliminate me to prevent my Familia from growing too large.

I couldn't trust anyone with this secret.

He couldn't let any other god even suspect it.

If I wanted to use this to my advantage, I had to do it stealthily. Choose who to recruit wisely. Don't draw attention to yourself too quickly. Make it seem like everything was happening naturally.

Because if not…

Not only would they banish me.

But they would wipe out my familia before it could even grow.

Without wasting any more time, I stood up with a slight headache—I had definitely had too much to drink last night—and looked at the makeshift altar. It was a mess, a heap of wood and fabric piled carelessly together, but what really worried me was the trace of my Arcanum impregnated in it.

I couldn't leave it there.

If someone with a good eye saw him, they might start asking questions he didn't want to answer.

So without hesitation I smashed it. I kicked the base, broke the wood, ripped the fabric and scattered the ashes. I made sure nothing recognizable remained before stepping back and taking a deep breath.

"That should do it…" I muttered to myself. 

I turned to see Veldrin, I had no idea how long it would take him to wake up, but there was nothing else I could do until he did.

So I sat down in a nearby chair, crossed my arms, and prepared to wait.