The Cure

Commissioned story by patr'on supporter.

Description: A simple question leads to a whole different outcome. The child left behind became her reason to defy death, and in turn, he would find the way to save her from the angered primordial whose noose tightened around her neck.

Tags: Mature, Adventure, Romance (2 partners).

Setting: "The Silence" changes her mind at the last minute and instead of joining Evilus, raises her nephew. He, in turn, repays her by looking for the cure to her sickness.

DISCLAIMER: Danmachi belongs to its respective owners. Everything that occurs in this story is of my own creation and the characters abide by the fictional laws in the setting.

Author Note: If you'd like to support me, please consider joining the dis cord server (42SQENPj54) or supporting my Patron (IreJasmine)

Story Title: The Cure


It was but a simple question asked out of pure curiosity.

"Are you sure?"

Such innocuous, innocent, words,

Yet they were enough,

To create a new outcome,

A new destiny,

A new hero.

Chapter 1: Really, This Child

Part 1

She hated seeing his eyes, loathed the man from whom he inherited them from, yet seeing his face… Pudgy with naught but the innocence only a baby could possess… She couldn't deny… It was hard to hate what her sister left behind.

He was so tiny yet weighed so much in her arms.

She hated noise, any kind of noise.

Yet she didn't abhor his cries.

They felt comforting, even.

Their hair was of the same color, their features oh so alike…

She didn't want him to live in a cruel world, she had thought before meeting him. But now, in her arms, perhaps it was not the world that needed to be changed, but them.

Humans were strong, resilient, and, most importantly, capable of adapting to any situation.

And he was young, oh so young…

It was hard to tear her gaze from him, only doing so because she could still feel his weight in her arms, and she looked around.

What was she leaving him?


There was nothing.

There was absolutely nothing she was leaving behind for him.


She looked down at him again and found his hands reaching for her face.


She didn't want him to fight.

She would change the world for him.

She didn't want him to die.

She would change the world so he would never need to wield a weapon.

Yet…. Why?

Why did the feel of his minuscule fingers on her cheeks make her doubt so much?

There was a monster out there, waiting for the perfect chance to create untold Chaos and Death on Earth, and she needed to prepare the future Heroes that would take it down, otherwise… The little bundle nuzzling his nose with hers wouldn't enjoy living in a safe world…

She had to fight.

She had to leave.

So why?

His tiny fingers became wet from her tears, his own eyes shimmering in response to her sadness.

Why did she cry?

Why did he cry?

What was he seeing?

What was he feeling?

Her grip on the bundle became tighter and she had to sit down when her legs felt weak, her sight became hazy, yet she didn't tear it away from his equally hazy crimson gaze.

She hated the color…

But she didn't hate him.


She would never hate him.

She would never hate his noise

She would never… leave… his… side…



If she didn't leave now, if…


He smiled through the tears silently falling on his own cheeks, palms wetly pressing on her cheeks to give her a hug, an innocent, childish, hug of pure affection and care.

Ah… She had forgotten how unfair the world could be.

There was no way…

"Alfia, we're leaving."


"I will stay."

- 0 – TC – 0 -

Part 2

It wasn't easy, but she did it.

"The pin goes the other way."

Or at least, was trying to do it.

"Shut your trap, vermin." Her warning was accompanied by the hum of her magic flaring alive, and the sleazy God backed off into the background and continued to create noise as she tried, and failed, to fix her nephew's diaper in place.

It was moments like this that left her wondering if she had made the right ch – No, she made the right choice. Her nephew's smile once she changed the pin's direction and ceased to squeeze his belly with the diaper made her certain that she had made the right choice.

The world could wait, he could not.

The once most feared sorceress in Orario raised her nephew to her bosom, holding him like her sister would've had she been alive, and gently rocked him back and forth as his crimson gaze slowly closed under her warmth and comfort. She didn't hum for him to sleep, as she hated any kind of noise except his, so her task of making him fall asleep was a long one.

But she didn't mind.

Feeling the weight of his life in her arms was reassuring in its own comfortable way, seeing him nuzzle into her bosom seeking for more care was endearing, and when his breathing evened out, she was all but ready to join him in his innocent dreamland.

Which was exactly what she did.

And even the 'vermin' of a 'sleazebag' that was the God Zeus, Lord of the Sky, could prove to be 'good' as he covered the sleeping aunt and nephew with the covers of their bed, and left without so much as single floorboard creak.

- 0 – TC – 0 -

Her sickness wasn't kind to her, the lack of a Falna on her back making it all the more deadly with the years passing and she was certain that anytime time now, her time would be up.

"Mom, are you okay?"

It was endearing how concerned he looked to be for her, he was still young, not a day older than 8, yet when it came to her, he acted as if he was older and stronger than her.

And in a way, he already was.

Proved by how his small body could support her declining weight until they reached their shared bedroom, he held tightly onto her hands as she slowly sat at the edge of the bed.

She took three deep breaths, "What have I… told you… about calling me that?"


Really, this child.

Even though she hated the red color, she had to admit that with his soft and worried features, the color added to his adorable, innocent, charm.

"Will you be alright?"

No, "Yes, I just need a minute."

"That's what you always say…"

And what she would always continue saying, until she could no longer speak, then she would continue telling it through hand signs until she could no longer move, then she would continue reflecting it through her smile and mismatched eyes… until they closed.


"Isn't it time for you to train with the vermin?"

Young Bell frowned, and clasped his arms around her body, "I don't want to leave your side when you're like this, mom"

Neither did she.

"You will work twice as hard tomorrow," She warned, yet it only made him hug her tighter

"I will work thrice, no four times, no! Ten times harder!" He exclaimed much to her amusement, then his worries slipped out, "Just don't make me leave your side when you're like this mom, please."


When he called her like that, all worried and preoccupied, she couldn't deny him. She regretted taking that too from her sister, but she was fine with adding it to the giant piles of regrets she had accumulated in her short, yet long, life.

"Then prepare for bed, mom needs to sleep to recover."


- 0 – TC – 0 -

The ten-year-old features were firm, his stance exposing the left side of his body forward while he held the wooden longsword with his right hand at hip length already drawn. His clothes had seen better days, numerous cuts and slices were strewn randomly over the length of his sleeves and stomach, exposing the woven chainmail beneath that kept his body relatively unharmed. Combat boots and leather pads covered his feet, calves, shin, and thighs.

A few meters across from him stood an old, but well-built, gray-haired man holding a wooden broadsword slung across his shoulder, his features were as stern as the young boy, his gray beard adding to the rough look.

Bell took a silent breath and dashed forward with a low swing aimed at the older man's legs, his broadsword came down in an arc towards the boy's face and he leaned to the side to avoid the blow, his longsword hit true but not at its intended target.

The hand that had been hidden behind the older man's back revealed itself with a buckler attached at the forearm, a buckler that had caught the young boy's attack and with ease, pushed it away from his body before easily swinging the broadsword at the unbalanced boy's midsection.

Unlike the boy's attack, his hit the true target and sent the boy sprawling out to the ground silently heaving for air.

"Changed your thoughts about using a shield, eh?" The old man snarked, palming the side of his broadsword against the buckler.

The boy raised his head to give him a glare that would've left other kids his age fleeing, something he no doubt inherited from his scary aunt. The white-haired boy stood up, cleaning his lips from the dirt he'd been forced to eat before taking another stance. His body was set in the same way, but both hands held the longsword straight in front of him, its tip exactly at the older man's eye level.

He gave no audible response to the taunts, instead he went for another attack.

The boy lunged forward with the sword, forcing the older man to try and parry it with the buckler, what he hadn't expected was for the boy to rearrange his elbows to not be blown away like last time and continue sliding the edge of the longsword forward through the buckler's surface until the tip of his wooden longsword struck heavily on the older man's chest.

There was no victory cry from the boy, only a gleeful smirk that was immediately wiped off by the oncoming broadsword from the side and he jumped back to avoid being struck, again.

"You've gotten better," The older man complimented, rubbing the sore spot the boy had hit earlier.

"I promised Alfia I would work ten times as harder," The boy replied, switching to another stance that left him holding the sword over his shoulder.

"Admirable," The older assented. "Then I'll respond in kind to your fervor, boy."

The older man moved first this time, a maddening quick dash with a low, upward, swing of the broadsword that was blocked by the downward swing of the boy's longsword. The sound of wood creaking filled the clearing as the two continued trading heavy and quick blows at each other, not giving moments respite even when one was downed.

For every hit the boy landed on the older man, Zeus returned two in kind. The pain drove the young boy to train even harder, the stinging in his arms, chest, face doing nothing to diminish his will to fulfil his promise to his mom.

Yet through it all, he never cried out, never voiced his attacks, never voiced his pain, never gloated in his victories.

All that was noise that needn't be in his life.

Neither did Alfia.

"Vermin, that's enough for today. It's my turn to train him," Talk of the devil and she shall appear.

The long white-haired woman walked forward with ease, her mismatched eyes freezing Bell on the spot as she finished fastening the belts of her combat gear.

Tall, dark violet, leather boots covered her feet up to below her knees. A darker violet-colored pants held by a silver belt with a cross at the front, her upper body was covered by a black, with white accents, blouse in the shape of a form-fitting dress that flared out at her waist with a short tailcoat at the back, both of her arms were covered in equally monotonic sleeves that left her fingers free.

"Sure, I'll go prepare dinner then." The older man shrugged off his equipment, giving the young boy a pitying pat on the back before leaving the aunt & nephew to their own training.

The young boy snapped out of his stupor and quickly went to give his new Teacher a hug that she received with a smile, "I'm so glad to see you looking better, mom."

Alfia chopped her nephew's forehead, making him release a pained 'why?', "What have I told you about calling me that?"

"Sorry, force of habit."

Really, this child.

"But yes, I'm also glad I'm feeling better." Alfia patted off some of the dirt from her nephew's face.

And indeed, she felt better. All thanks to the sacred branch of the elven tree Zeus had managed to smuggle for her two years earlier. Its effects were not the same as when she was younger and more active, but it gave her enough vitality to not look like such a sorry mess she'd been years earlier.

However, she was on a time limit and before her time was up, she would make sure her nephew had all the tools he needed at his disposal to freely live whatever way he wanted to.

Which meant she had been smacking his ass around for the better part of the last two years with her magic and drilling into his head magical concepts that would help him once he obtained a Falna.

While Zeus could've put his blessing on the boy's back to help in his early growth, once her nephew went in look for another proper God's Falna, he'd very likely be pushed away for it. That would also reveal the older man's true identity to her nephew, and it was something they avoided at all costs.

Bell was aware that she used to be an adventurer, was aware of just how strong Alfia had been in her prime, but he did not need to know the real reason they were living in exile in the mountains.

"Recite the last's lesson's teachings," Alfia started after she separated from the young Bell, letting him have a minute to sort his memories. Her noise vibrated in her chest as she flared her magic, on the palm of her hand a small orb formed which she pointed at her nephew who, after a minute, had yet to give his response.

And when the second minute was over, she fired.

Most, if not all, of Bell's lessons with his aunt went in the same way. Her patience was slim to none, her kindness didn't exist in the battlefield, and she cared not if his blood spilled with her own power during their training.

Bell Cranel learned the hard way his mom's true personality under her strict, unforgiving, tutelage.

Yet he still loved her.

- 0 – TC: Chapter End – 0 -

Author's Note: Commissioned story~