Danmachi: The Counter-Guardian

Author: The chapter was already done a while ago, I just didn't have a chance to translate it because of painting my room, the house is still being painted at the moment, but my room is free. Well, I hope you liked it and forgive any mistakes I made.

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The night advanced silently over Orario, and inside the humble church that served as the home of the small Hestia Familia, Bell Cranel sat with his back exposed, feeling the delicate touch of the goddess as she updated his Status. The bluish glow of divine magic traced across his back, forming mystical characters that only the gods could read. The sensation was strange—a mix of gentle warmth and tingling—but he was already accustomed to the process.

The white-haired, red-eyed boy kept his breathing steady, anxious for what was to come. He had pushed himself to the limit in the past few days, facing monsters and training relentlessly. Every strike, every battle, every moment spent in the dungeon had been for a single purpose: to become stronger.

When Hestia finished, she stepped back slightly and smiled at him, holding the paper where the results were written. Her eyes sparkled with a gleam of satisfaction, almost as if she were the one leveling up.

"Bell, congratulations! You acquired a skill!"

The boy's eyes widened, and he quickly took the paper from her hands. His reading started slow, but as the words began to make sense, his fingers tightened around the edges of the paper, and a genuine smile formed on his face.

「Basic Information」

Name: Bell CranelRace: HumanLevel: 1

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「Status」

Strength: H 160Endurance: H 127Dexterity: G 201Agility: G 200Magic: I 0

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「Skills」

Heroic WillThe will to become stronger overflows. An insurmountable figure exists in your journey and life. As such, to reach this figure, your experiences are multiplied by the desire to surpass them and become like them—a hero, someone strong and fearless. And of course, no charm shall work on you, for a hero could never fall for something so vile.

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Bell read the skill description over and over again, his mind buzzing with thoughts. An insurmountable figure…? He didn't need to think much to understand what that meant. His mind immediately conjured the image of a man with white hair, tanned skin, silver eyes, and an overwhelming presence.

"Altair…"

He felt his heart race. His whole body warmed with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He wasn't sure exactly how to feel about it. Having a unique skill was amazing, but the fact that this skill revolved around surpassing Altair was almost intimidating.

Hestia's smile widened as she watched him so absorbed in his thoughts. Her gaze carried a hint of mischief and curiosity.

"Heroic Will, that's a great name." She said, leaning slightly toward him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Tell me, who do you want to surpass?"

Her teasing tone caught Bell off guard. His face turned completely red, and he choked as he tried to form a coherent response.

"I-I… Uh…" He averted his gaze, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Hestia let out a cheerful laugh, shaking her head. "No need to hide it, Bell. Whoever this 'insurmountable figure' is, I'm glad you have such strong motivation. That means you're on the right path!"

He took a deep breath and nodded, still nervous but feeling a renewed determination growing inside him.

'I really need to work even harder…'

Now, more than ever, he knew he was in a race against time. If he wanted to catch up to Altair, if he ever wanted to stand beside him as an equal, then he needed to keep growing.

And this ability would be the key to that.

The silence that filled the church basement was almost suffocating. Bell lowered his head for a moment, his fists clenched around the fabric of his pants. His whole body trembled, not from fear, but from frustration, from something that had been inside him for a long time and was finally escaping.

"It's Altair..."

His words echoed in the small underground room, breaking the silence like a sharp blade. His heart pounded in his chest, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

"He's been getting stronger recently, and time and time again, I feel like I'm falling behind. Every time I see him fight, every time I hear about his accomplishments, I realize that the gap between us is only growing."

Bell lifted his head, his red eyes shining with a rare intensity. He wasn't just admitting a feeling of inferiority—he was declaring a silent war against that feeling.

"He's someone I want to stand beside. I want to compete with him as an equal, I want to challenge him and be challenged. He's my rival!"

His chest rose and fell with the force of emotions flowing like a torrent, filled with an unshakable determination. For so long, he kept this feeling to himself, but now, before Hestia, he could no longer hold it back.

The goddess remained silent, absorbing every word. Her blue eyes analyzed the boy before her, seeing something different in him—a flame burning brighter than before, a burning desire to grow.

Then, suddenly, she stood up, and the aura around her completely changed.

"So why are you here!?"

Her voice exploded like thunder, filled with an overwhelming passion. Her small body radiated a strength that did not belong to an ordinary child. Her dark blue hair fluttered, and her eyes gleamed like glowing embers.

"If you want to surpass him, go to the Dungeon! He never stops getting stronger! While you hesitate, while you think and lament, he's already one step ahead of you!"

She stepped forward, her presence dominating the space.

"Will you go!?"

Her tone was no longer a question, but a command. An order for Bell to take action.

The impact of those words resonated in the boy's chest, hitting him like a surge of pure adrenaline. He felt his mind clear, his muscles tense. Yes, this was it. He could no longer stand still.

With a fierce gleam in his eyes, Bell leapt to his feet, grabbing his things as quickly as he could. He grabbed his dagger, fastened his belt, checked if his light armor was properly adjusted, and prepared to run.

"I'm going!"

Without hesitation, he bolted up the stairs, leaving the church at full speed.

Hestia stayed behind, watching as her son set off with renewed determination. A smile formed on her lips, full of pride and affection.

"That's right, Bell..."

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of her own inner flame.

"Show the world what you're capable of."

...

The imposing Tower of Babel loomed before Bell, its countless floors disappearing into the morning sky. The Dungeon entrance, a dark portal to the unknown, was right ahead. But before he could take another step, his eyes met a familiar figure standing there as if waiting for him.

Altair.

The bronze-skinned warrior leaned against one of the marble columns, his arms crossed over his chest and a neutral expression on his face. He didn't seem surprised to see Bell, as if he already knew Bell would come. There was no hesitation in his stance, only the unshakable confidence of someone who walked ahead of others on the path of strength.

Bell swallowed hard. His heart raced slightly, but he took a deep breath and stepped forward until he was just a few paces from his rival.

Altair uncrossed his arms and slightly tilted his head, sizing up Bell with his sharp eyes.

"Are you used to dual daggers now?"

The question was direct, without any preamble. Bell blinked a few times before responding with a firm nod.

"Yes."

Altair nodded, satisfied with the response. Then, without wasting any time, he raised his hand and made a fluid motion, pulling something from his inventory.

In an instant, a pair of daggers appeared in his hands.

The first thing Bell noticed was the deep darkness of the metal. The daggers were as black as a moonless night, their polished brown handles reflecting the light with a subtle glow. But the most striking detail was the red blade guards, shaped like demonic mouths slightly open, as if mocking anyone who dared to hold them.

Bell held his breath.

The blades glowed with a blood-red hue, as if they were breathing, as if they were alive. A faint pressure spread through the air around them, and Bell felt a chill run down his spine. This was no ordinary weapon. He could sense the presence within them, a demonic power sealed in their cold steel.

Altair raised the daggers with a serious expression, his eyes locked onto Bell's.

"They're yours. You can take them."

He swallowed nervously and extended his hesitant hand, touching the hilt of one of them. The moment his fingers wrapped around the grip, a chill ran down his spine.

It was as if something inside the dagger recognized him.

"These weapons..." Bell murmured, feeling the perfect weight in his hand. He twirled one, testing its balance. It was unlike anything he had ever held before—not just in quality, but in presence.

Altair crossed his arms, watching Bell's reaction closely. "They're made for you."

Bell shifted his gaze from the weapon and looked at Altair. "What do you mean?"

The tanned boy shrugged. "I got them in a dungeon. The moment I saw them, I knew they were meant for you. They're more than just weapons. They'll grow with you."

Bell looked at the daggers again, his heart racing faster. The idea of a weapon that evolves with its user was fascinating, yet at the same time, a huge burden.

"Don't you want them?" Altair asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bell gripped the handles and took a deep breath. "I do!" He looked up, determined. "Thank you, Altair!"

The other boy smirked. "Then prove you deserve them."

Before Bell could react, Altair stepped forward and threw a straight punch.

Bell instinctively jumped back, raising the daggers in defense. The impact was strong enough to make the air around them vibrate.

"What—?! Altair!?"

"Time for a quick test," Altair said, assuming a combat stance. "If you want to get stronger, you're going to have to show me that you know how to use them."

Bell felt a mix of fear and excitement rise within him. He gripped the daggers tighter and took a deep breath.

"Alright then..." He bent his knees, getting into battle position. "I'll show you what I'm capable of!"

The two stared at each other for a moment, and then, like a lightning bolt, Altair charged.

The tension in the air was palpable. Bell could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the weight of the daggers in his hands seeming to double as the reality of the situation hit him. Altair wasn't playing around.

The tanned figure advanced like a predator, his muscles moving with terrifying precision and speed. His punch cut through the air with incredible force, aiming straight for Bell's chest.

Bell only had time to react by instinct. He threw his body back, feeling the wind from the punch graze his clothes. His feet slid across the floor of the Babel Tower's entrance as he tightened his grip on the daggers, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Tsk, so close," Altair muttered, snapping his fingers before launching into the next attack.

This time, Bell was ready.

He spun one of the daggers in his hand, adjusting his grip, and lunged forward, dodging Altair's strike at the last second. With a fluid motion, he slid beside his opponent and struck with one of the blades.

The black steel gleamed, slicing through the air in a perfect arc—but Altair quickly spun his body, blocking the strike with his forearm. The impact echoed, and Bell felt the resistance of his rival's hardened skin.

"Nice try, but you'll need more than that," Altair mocked, smiling to the side.

Bell stepped back, his eyes sharp. This wasn't just a test of skill—it was a true duel.

Altair wasn't holding back.

Bell knew that, and it was exactly what he wanted.

"Come on!" he shouted, bending his knees and preparing for the next move.

Altair laughed.

"That's more like it."

Then, he disappeared.

Bell's eyes widened. 'What?!'

A second later, Altair appeared right in front of him, a blur of speed. The warrior's fist was already in motion, a downward strike aimed at his head.

With no time to think, Bell crossed his daggers above, blocking the attack. The impact reverberated in his arms, the ground beneath his feet cracking slightly.

Altair's strength was absurd.

But Bell would not back down.

He spun his body, using the momentum to counterattack with a sideways slash. Altair jumped backward, narrowly dodging, and then lunged again, his strikes becoming faster and more precise.

The clash between the two continued, sparks flying in the air as Bell's blades scraped against Altair's blocks. It was an intense duel, a battle of pure skill and instinct.

Bell felt his breath quicken, every muscle in his body tense. But at the same time, a smile began to form on his lips.

This... This was exactly what he wanted.

He wouldn't just fight Altair.

He would catch up to him. And surpass him.

With this thought in mind, Bell charged forward once more.

The final impact echoed in the air like a distant thunderclap. Bell and Altair separated in the next instant, both panting but showing no signs of complete exhaustion. The first ray of sunlight pierced the horizon, illuminating the city of Orario and revealing the marks of the battle. The ground at the entrance of the Babel Tower was covered in cracks and small grooves, silent witnesses to the intensity of the clash.

Bell relaxed his shoulders, feeling his muscles protest. His breath was still quick, but his heart raced not just from the effort, but from the excitement. This had not been just any fight—it had been a true test. And even without a winner, Bell felt that he had taken a step forward.

Altair, on the other hand, appeared calm. He directed his evaluating gaze at Bell for a moment before shrugging.

"Well, we're done here. Go your way." He said, his voice as casual as if commenting on the weather.

Bell blinked, surprised by the abruptness of the conclusion, but soon understood. Altair was never there for a win or loss. He just wanted to see how far Bell could go.

The young man smiled, still feeling the tingling in his fingers from the constant impact against his rival. He slid the new daggers into their sheaths, feeling a growing connection with the weapons. Now, they were not just a gift. They were a symbol of his journey, of his determination.

The sun now shone brightly, casting long shadows across the city. Bell looked at the imposing tower in front of him, feeling a new kind of excitement growing within him.

He still had energy.

"Two or three hours in the dungeon won't kill me."

With one last glance in the direction where Altair had disappeared, Bell took a deep breath and continued on his way. The Dungeon awaited him, and he would waste no more time.