Back at the Familia, Bell let out a helpless sigh and buried himself in Hestia's arms.

"I lost my temper again."

Seeing the frustration on his face, Hestia couldn't help but laugh.

"Huh? Hestia, you're laughing at me too?"

"Pfft, no, Bell-kun."

She stroked his hair. Moments like this—when Bell came to her for comfort—were the few times Hestia truly felt like a god.

"Every child has things they can tolerate… and things they absolutely can't."

"Like those bad children who harm the Xenos. Just like you said, that boy tried to fill the emptiness inside him by creating despair for the Xenos. To prove his own existence, he made others bear his pain. His joy was built on their despair—and that is, without a doubt, wrong."

Here, Hestia's serious expression softened, her voice dropping to something more resigned.

"Still, while it was his fault… it wasn't entirely his fault."

"The twisted personality he ended up with had a lot to do with the environment he grew up in—and with the obsessions passed down through countless generations."

Cursing one's own descendants was truly immoral.

What Daedalus had done would make even the gods shake their heads. For the sake of his own obsession, he twisted the future of his bloodline and dragged them all into a dangerous vortex.

His actions were nothing short of selfish.

One's personal obsessions should never be forced onto others—not even onto your own descendants. That's nothing more than using your own obsession to warp another's life.

"Obsession… and desire."

Bell's expression carried a hint of reflection as he raised his hand. Four slightly different shades of black mist swirled around it.

"Maybe that's exactly it."

"The curse Daedalus placed on his descendants—and the resentment built up over generations—formed a sin that's been living in that man's heart all along."

"That's why his negative emotions kept spilling out unchecked, warping his sense of values."

"Desire again, huh."

Hestia's gaze lingered on the black mist coiling around Bell's fingers.

"If only Ouranos had never let Daedalus see the Dungeon."

"It wouldn't have mattered."

Hephaestus clearly disagreed that such a thing could have changed the outcome.

"The children of Genkai have endless desires. They crave so many things—accomplishment, recognition, personal satisfaction. Even if Daedalus had never seen the Dungeon, he still would have found another reason to do the same thing."

Bell nodded in full agreement.

"Hephaestus is right. Builders chase the chance to prove their worth. Just like the blacksmiths in her Familia—they'd never be satisfied making only mediocre weapons, would they?"

Hephaestus nodded in agreement.

"Every child dreams of forging something better. Even I'm no exception."

Bell returned the nod and smoothly carried the conversation forward.

"Different kinds of Adventurers chase different goals.

"Take Finn, for example. As captain of the Loki Familia, what he seeks is to use his influence to change the fate of the Pallum. That's why he can't let his achievements stay confined to a city like Orario—he needs them to radiate outward, with this city as the center, until they reach the whole world."

"Daedalus, without question, had the same kind of ambition. But unlike Finn, who worked to spread his influence through his own strength, Daedalus knew his time was short. So he pushed that obsession onto his descendants.

"He never stopped to think whether that obsession would harm them—he only cared about satisfying his own sense of accomplishment."

"To be honest, I suspect that a thousand years ago, Daedalus had already decided that if he couldn't succeed himself, then he'd curse his descendants into finishing it for him."

Cursing your own bloodline to achieve what you couldn't… even Bell had to admit that was far from admirable.

Not that he was trying to defend the man—Daedalus was, after all, that Adventurer's ancestor. The curse had been his design from the start, and once it was passed down, the later generations had no way to escape it. They could only accept it.

"That's true. If Daedalus hadn't completely lost his mind a thousand years ago, maybe he wouldn't have done something so extreme."

As a craftswoman, Hephaestus understood all too well the pull of an obsession. Just as she'd said earlier, every child in the Genkai had their own desires and obsessions—but when those obsessions grew too heavy, they could push a person into making truly reckless decisions.

Perhaps it was that very obsession that had driven Daedalus headlong into madness.

"If he hadn't gone mad, he wouldn't have forced his obsession onto his descendants, making them carry what was little more than an ancestor's curse."

"That boy… he must have been mad for a long time already," Hephaestus murmured, letting out a sigh. The children of the Genkai each bore their own fate and identity. Some of the trials they faced could impress even the gods, while others… even the gods could only sigh at them.

"He was definitely mad for a long time," Hestia said softly, "but at least, in the end, he came back to his senses."

She still despised children like that—those who would harm the Xenos without remorse—but at least in his final moments, he had opened his eyes, no longer lost in his frenzy, and met death with a clear mind.

Hestia's gaze shifted to Bell, her expression carrying a mix of reproach and quiet relief.

"Bell-kun, next time you face an enemy, you can't keep holding back."

"I'll remember that."

Bell took the scolding without complaint, already reflecting on his own rashness. Today's boldness was worlds apart from the caution he'd shown in the past—and that was something he needed to address.

"Counting the 'Gluttony' you got from that boy today, Bell-kun, you've collected four now, right?"

"Yeah. Still missing 'Wrath,' 'Sloth,' and 'Lust.' But there's no rush. All I know so far is that the Seven Deadly Sins can control desire—I've no idea what collecting all seven will actually do."

Bell wasn't in any hurry to finish the set. The Seven Deadly Sins weren't exactly easy to find, and rushing wouldn't help.

"I know. But we can still think about who might have the others."

Hestia wasn't worried, but she wanted to help him in her own way.

She couldn't fight on the front lines—but she could help him track down the fragments he needed to complete the skill.