Max
The hours of flight from River Village to Agris had begun to blur together into a monotonous routine of wing beats and landscape observation. Max had spent most of the journey trying to impart what he considered essential slime wisdom to Kairu, his companion resting comfortably under his shirt.
"Okay, buddy, listen up," Max said, his voice carrying over the wind. "You've got potential. Like, serious potential. Have you ever heard of Rimuru Tempest? No? Well, let me tell you about the coolest slime in anime history."
He launched into an enthusiastic lecture about Tensura, explaining how slimes could devour abilities, transform into perfect copies of other beings, and even evolve into demon lords. Then he moved on to Eminence in Shadow, describing how even a seemingly weak slime could become an apocalyptic threat with the right guidance.
"The key is versatility," Max continued, gesturing animatedly despite being several hundred feet in the air. "You can be anything, do anything. Shape-shifting, acid secretion, absorption, mimicry...the possibilities are endless. We just need to figure out your limits and work from there."
Kairu responded with enthusiastic chirps of "ki, ki, ki!" though Max wasn't entirely sure how much the slime actually understood versus just enjoying the attention. I'm literally giving anime lectures to a blob. My weeb has reached critical levels.
At least the one-sided conversation helped pass the time. By the time they reached Agris, Max was more than ready for literally any change of pace—even if that change was just landing somewhere that didn't involve talking to a slime about anime.
The town materialized on the horizon as Max flew through the darkness, its lights glowing like a beacon against the lush green landscape below. By air, the trip had taken him only a few hours—an absurd contrast to the several days it would normally take on foot, especially with how easy it was to get lost in the desert's shifting dunes and treacherous terrain. Not that Max cared about any of that; he was reaching Orario as fast as possible, and flight made everything trivially easy.
Agris wasn't particularly large—maybe a quarter the size of mid-sized towns back home—but it had the same sturdy protective walls that seemed standard in this world. A sensible precaution, considering monsters apparently roamed the wilderness with alarming regularity.
Max descended well outside the town's line of sight, his wings folding away as his feet touched down on the dirt road. A few deep breaths helped him center his magic, pushing his demonic aura down to his suppression level.
"Alright, Kairu, back in the bag for now," he muttered, and the slime chirped obediently.
The guards at Agris's gate were alert but not overly suspicious—a late arrival wasn't unusual for a town on a trade route, and Max looked travel-worn enough to be legitimate. They waved him through after a quick visual inspection, just another young traveler seeking shelter for the night.
The town itself was quiet at this hour. Functional. The buildings were timber and stone construction with thatched roofs, arranged along streets that had clearly been planned with basic grid logic. Most windows were dark, with only a few taverns and inns still showing lamplight. The occasional night watchman made their rounds, and somewhere in the distance a lone figure was stumbling, too drunk.
Max wandered through the streets for perhaps twenty minutes, observing the architecture with mild interest. Medieval European influence, definitely, but with touches that felt distinctly fantasy—runes carved into some doorframes, crystals mounted in street lamps that glowed with soft magical light, the occasional adventurer swagger-walking past with weapons that would make airport security have collective heart attacks.
He found a quiet fountain in a small plaza, the water burbling softly in the night air. The stone bench beside it looked inviting enough, and more importantly, the area was deserted. Max sat down with a satisfied sigh, pulling out the carefully wrapped food Stella had packed for him.
The bread was still fresh, the cheese hadn't spoiled, and the dried meat had that perfect smoky flavor he'd come to appreciate. He ate slowly, savoring each bite while Kairu poked out from the bag to observe curiously. Max tore off a small piece of bread and offered it to the slime, who absorbed it with an enthusiastic "ki!"
After finishing the meal, he drank from his water pouch. The water was cold and clean, refreshing after the long flight. He could feel his energy slowly returning, his magical reserves replenishing as his body processed the food. The exhaustion from hours of sustained flight and magic use was fading, replaced by a comfortable fullness.
"Second dinner done," Max muttered to himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Not bad for a day's work."
With his hunger satisfied and his strength returning, Max stood and stretched. Time to finish what he came here for.
"Pretty standard fantasy town aesthetic," he murmured, pausing at a quiet section of the western wall. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he placed his palm against the cool stone and channeled a controlled pulse of magic.
His crimson magic circle materialized for a brief moment, sinking into the stone until it was completely invisible. A teleportation anchor—something his inherited memories had taught him to create. It would remain dormant unless he actively called upon it, giving him a return point if he ever needed to travel back this direction quickly.
"One down," he said with satisfaction. "Let's see how many of these I can scatter around the world before someone notices."
With that task complete and the town offering nothing else to hold his interest, Max slipped out through a side gate and took to the skies once more. The guards never even saw him leave.
As the night deepened, Max found himself thinking about his destination—and more importantly, about where he'd end up once he got there. Joining a Familia was essential if he wanted to participate in the dungeon and not immediately get flagged as suspicious, but which one?
Hestia Familia was the obvious choice from a meta-knowledge perspective. If Hestia was as desperate for familia members as she'd been in canon, he could probably slip in without too much scrutiny. Explain the whole "devil from another world" situation after she'd already given him her Falna. It was manipulative, sure, but also pragmatic.
Then there was Hermes Familia. Hermes knew more about the deeper mysteries of the world than he let on, and his Familia operated with unusual freedom. But Hermes was also the type to—
Max's train of thought derailed completely as the landscape ahead suddenly transformed.
He'd been flying for maybe twenty minutes since leaving Agris, covering ground that would have taken hours on foot. The distance between the two settlements wasn't actually that far—perhaps a few hours' walk for a merchant caravan—but his wings had closed the gap in a fraction of the time.
The darkness of night was absolute out here, miles from any settlement. The stars overhead formed unfamiliar constellations, and the moon cast silver light across the wilderness below. But ahead, cutting through that darkness like a beacon of pure civilization, was Orario.
"Holy shit," Max breathed, his wings stuttering for a moment before he remembered to keep flying.
The city was huge. Absolutely massive, easily dwarfing anything he'd seen in his previous life. Even Tokyo during its most spectacular night displays wouldn't have stood out this brightly against the darkness. The city formed a perfect circle—or as close to perfect as he could tell from this distance—with what looked like eight distinct sections radiating out from the center.
And at that center, piercing the sky like a spear thrust up by the gods themselves, stood the Tower of Babel.
The tower defied reasonable architectural principles on every level. It rose from the city's heart in a massive, elegant spire of white stone that caught and reflected the moonlight until it seemed to glow from within. Even from miles away, Max could see the intricate details carved into its surface—patterns that looked almost like massive magic circles, balconies and windows that suggested the structure was actually inhabited, and crystalline formations near the top that sparkled like captured stars.
The tower had to be at least a thousand meters tall, maybe more. It dominated not just the city but the entire landscape, visible for miles in every direction.
Around its base, the city sprawled in organized chaos. From his aerial vantage, Max could make out major roads radiating from the tower like spokes on a wheel, dividing the city into its eight sections. Massive walls encircled the entire metropolis, punctuated by guard towers and what looked like defensive fortifications that made Agris's walls look like garden fences by comparison.
But it was the lights that really got him. Thousands upon thousands of lights—magical streetlamps, illuminated windows, braziers on walls, and concentrated clusters that had to be major landmarks or gathering places. The city didn't just glow; it pulsed with vibrant life even at this late hour, creating a golden-orange radiance that pushed back the night for miles around. Approaching on his own terms instead of as a flaming comet made all the difference—this time, he got to appreciate what he was seeing.
"I'm really here," Max said quietly, feeling something strange catch in his chest. Not quite emotion, but close. "Orario. The actual freaking Labyrinth City."
This was where it all happened. Where Bell Cranel would sprint through streets with a bleeding Minotaur wound, where Ais Wallenstein walked as the Sword Princess, where gods and mortals mingled in a grand experiment that had been running for a thousand years. And beneath that tower, beneath the city itself, the Dungeon waited—a living labyrinth filled with monsters, treasures, and mysteries that no one had fully unraveled.
Max shook his head, forcing down the fanboy excitement that threatened to make him do something stupid like fly straight to Babel and start asking about floor bosses. He had to be smart about this. Careful. Strategic.
But first, he had to actually get into the city without drawing attention to himself.
He angled his flight path to circle around Orario's eastern side, descending gradually until he was flying low enough that his silhouette would blend with the darkness. About two miles from the main eastern gate, he touched down in a cluster of trees just off the main road.
His wings dissolved back into magic, that faint tingling sensation spreading across his shoulder blades as the demonic manifestation retreated. He took a moment to center himself, pushing his aura suppression even deeper—down to about 9% of his original output, the absolute limit of what he could maintain without losing control entirely. Then he turned to his shoulder.
"Okay, Kairu, I need you to stay hidden," he said softly, lifting the slime from his shoulder. "Tuck yourself under my shirt, stay close to my chest. We can't let anyone see you."
The slime chirped affirmatively—"ki, ki!"—and flowed up Max's arm in a ripple of translucent gel. He settled against his chest, flattening himself to an almost imperceptible thickness beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation was cool and slightly damp, but not unpleasant.
"You holding up okay in there, buddy?" Max whispered.
A muffled "ki, ki" vibrated against his sternum, and Max grinned.
He stepped out onto the main road, joining a sparse stream of late-night travelers. A few wagons rolled past, their drivers looking exhausted from long journeys. A pair of what looked like merchants walked ahead of him, arguing in low tones about tariff rates. Normal, everyday traffic that wouldn't raise any eyebrows.
As he walked, Orario grew larger with each step, the walls resolving from distant barriers into massive fortifications easily forty feet tall. The stonework was impressive—precisely cut blocks fitted together with barely visible mortar lines, reinforced at regular intervals with what looked like metal bracing enchanted with protective runes.
The main eastern gate loomed ahead, a massive archway flanked by guard towers that bristled with alert sentries. Bright magical lights illuminated the entrance, and Max could see a checkpoint system that definitely shouldn't exist in any medieval fantasy setting like this.
Guards in distinctive armor bearing what looked like an elephant motif—Ganesha Familia, his memory supplied—were conducting thorough checks on every person entering. The line moved slowly, each traveler subjected to questions, documentation review, and what looked like some kind of magical scanning.
Max joined the queue, keeping his posture relaxed and his expression pleasantly neutral. Around him, other travelers muttered complaints about the increased security, speculation about recent criminal activity, concerns about "those damn Evils."
His turn came sooner than expected. Most of the crowd had cleared out, leaving him facing a tall guard with sharp eyes and a hand resting casually on his sword hilt. The man's nameplate read "Hashana."
"Purpose of entry?" Hashana asked, his tone professional but not unfriendly.
"Adventuring," Max replied simply. "Looking to register with the Guild and try my luck in the Dungeon."
"Specialization?"
"Mage."
Hashana's eyes narrowed slightly, and Max felt something—a subtle probe of magical awareness, not invasive enough to be rude but definitely present. The guard's expression flickered with surprise, then suspicion.
Max kept his face carefully neutral, but internally he was cursing. The guard was good. Really good. Despite his suppression efforts bringing him down to barely 9% output, Hashana had still detected something—that faint undercurrent of power that suggested Max was deliberately hiding his true capabilities.
"You're suppressing your magic," Hashana said flatly. It wasn't a question.
Max considered lying, then decided on a different approach. "Habit," he admitted with a slight shrug. "Had some bad experiences with bandits targeting flashy mages on the road. I've found it's safer to not advertise what you can do until you're somewhere civilized."
It was a reasonable explanation—plausible enough to be believable, common enough that other mages probably did the same thing. But Hashana didn't look entirely convinced.
His hand tightened on his sword hilt. "Due to increased criminal activity and the ongoing threat from the Evils organization, Ganesha Familia has implemented enhanced screening protocols. Without proper identification documentation, I'm authorized to request divine interrogation for suspicious individuals."
Max's heart rate picked up slightly. Divine interrogation. That sounded exactly as problematic as it felt—a god using their supernatural perception to verify someone's authenticity, definitely with the whole 'walking lie-detector' thing. If that happened, his entire cover would collapse within seconds.
But Hashana was still talking: "...though with the current backlog, divine intervention is reserved only for the most threatening cases. So I'll ask you directly: do you have identification documents?"
Relief flooded through Max's chest. He reached into his bag—the actual storage bag at his belt—and withdrew the folded parchment Stan had provided before he'd left River Village.
The document was simple but official: his name (Max), his classification (Mage), his residence (River Village), all stamped with Stan's seal and signature as the village chief. It wasn't fancy, but it was legitimate.
Hashana took the document, examining it with a critical eye. His thumb traced over the seal, checking for forgery. After a long moment, he looked back up at Max, his expression still suspicious but softening toward resignation.
"River Village. That's out past the southwestern forests, near the border territories."
"Yes, sir," Max confirmed.
Another pause. Then Hashana sighed and handed the document back. When he spoke, his voice carried an edge sharp enough to cut: "You're clear for now," Hashana said, his voice dropping to something cold and dangerous. "But if you turn out to be one of the Evils, I'll hunt you down myself and end you. Your magic won't save you from what we do to traitors." His magical pressure pressed down on Max for just a moment—a Level 3's full intent focused and sharp. "Understand?"
Max nodded solemnly. "Understood."
The threat hung in the air for a heartbeat. Then, like someone had flipped a switch, Hashana's demeanor completely shifted. Apparently satisfied Max wasn't an immediate threat, his expression brightened, his posture relaxed, and he offered a helpful smile that seemed genuinely warm.
"The Guild building is straight down the main road," he said, gesturing past the gate. "Take your first left, keep going, and you'll see the Pantheon. Can't miss it—big building, lots of columns, always busy. They'll get you registered as an adventurer."
Max raised an eyebrow at the sudden 180-degree personality change but nodded his thanks. "Appreciate the help."
"Welcome to Orario, kid. Try not to die in the Dungeon on your first day."
With that cheerful send-off, Max passed through the gate and entered Orario proper.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the city's energy hit him like a physical wave. Max looked around, hoping to spot a familiar face from the anime or find someone approachable to talk to about the city's current situation.
The merchants and cart drivers who'd entered alongside him seemed similarly awestruck, their eyes wide as they took in the grandeur of the city—the towering buildings, the magical street lamps, the sheer scale of everything. A few whispered excitedly to their companions, pointing at landmarks. But the locals? They barely glanced at the newcomers, moving with mechanical efficiency through streets they'd walked a thousand times before.
Instead of the vibrant energy he'd expected, Max saw only a sea of tense adventurers and merchants moving as if on a knife's edge, everyone appearing haunted with fewer smiles, more visible scars, and harder eyes than he remembered from the anime. The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken tension, as if collective trauma hung over the entire city like a burial shroud. Conversations were clipped, nervous. People walked with weapons prominently displayed and hands never far from hilts. Even the late-night tavern laughter sounded forced, desperate rather than genuine.
Max's weeb senses tingled with uncomfortable realization. This isn't right. Things are not as I expected.
This wasn't the peaceful, relatively optimistic Orario from the canon timeline. Something was actively wrong here. Something that made veteran adventurers flinch at shadows and merchants hurry through transactions with paranoid glances over their shoulders.
Seeing the futility of waiting around for someone familiar who probably didn't exist yet, Max decided to make his way to the Guild building. At least registration would give him concrete information about—
He bumped into someone.
The collision felt like hitting an unyielding wall. The force pushed Max backward and he fell, landing hard on the cobblestones with a grunt of pain. He rubbed his back, grimacing.
"Oh! Are you alright, Mister?"
A concerned female voice cut through his disorientation. Max looked up, and under the warm glow of the magic lamp directly overhead, he saw a beautiful young woman with red hair like the rising sun and green eyes full of warmth and life, as if nothing could dim them. Her expression radiated genuine concern mixed with apologetic worry.
Max's senses tingled with vague recognition. I've seen her somewhere before. But where?
"How could you be this clumsy!"
A second voice cut in, sharp with indignation. Max turned to see another young woman, this time with blonde hair pulled back in a practical style, sky blue eyes, and pointed elf ears. She was giving him an "are you dumb?" look that could have frozen water.
Recognition hit him like a lightning bolt.
Ryuu Lion.
The dread intensified immediately as Max's anime knowledge caught up with the implications. Ryuu's familia was killed approximately five years before the canon timeline. Which meant he was currently at least five years—minimum—before Bell arrived in Orario, assuming they were from the same familia.
Oh, damn it. I'm in the complete dead zone.
Think. What do I actually know about this period? The Evils organization. Astrea Familia's massacre. Ryuu's survival and revenge. But dates? Specific events? Triggering factors? His anime-only knowledge felt pathetically inadequate. I'm flying blind in what's supposedly the most dangerous era in Orario's recent history.
Max completely zoned out while processing this information, his mind racing through implications and frantically trying to recall any fragments of lore or background information that might apply to this era.
Alise tried waving at him to get his attention, her hand moving back and forth in front of his face. No response. She exchanged a worried glance with Ryuu.
"We should leave," Ryuu said flatly, her tone brooking no argument. "We have a patrol schedule to maintain. This person is clearly fine, just distracted."
"I'm not abandoning someone who clearly needs help, Lion!" Alise protested, her conviction absolute despite Ryuu's logic.
Seeing that nothing else worked, Alise grabbed Max's shoulders and physically pulled him to his feet with surprising strength. As she did, she noticed details—he was quite strong based on his tense muscles and unusually fit build.
Odd, Alise thought briefly, but she didn't dwell on these details. She was focused on helping the lost-looking young man because helping people was both her duty as Astrea Familia captain and something that brought her genuine joy.
Max found himself pulled upright and now standing eye-to-eye with Alise, who gave him a sunny, reassuring smile that could probably dissolve clouds through sheer optimism.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked gently.
Max nodded mutely, still processing the timeline implications and mentally cataloging everything he knew about Astrea Familia's fate.
Alise pointed to herself with her thumb, her smile widening. "My name is Alise Lovell, Captain of Astrea Familia." She gestured to her companion. "This is my friend, Lion."
That's the final nail in the coffin for Max, the introduction solidifying his suspicions.
Ryuu's eye twitched slightly at the abbreviated introduction, but she didn't correct it.
Max regained his composure, forcing his brain back into social mode after a moment. He nodded to both women with appropriate respect. "My name is Max. I'm new to the city—a mage. Nice meeting you, Ms. Alise, Ms. Lion."
He now recognized both names. Alise from flashback content scattered throughout the series, always shown as the heroic captain who'd inspired Ryuu's sense of justice. Ryuu from the main series as the emotionally guarded waitress hiding a traumatic past. His shock stemmed from seeing them both alive and standing before him rather than not knowing who they were.
To cover his earlier spacing out, Max added quickly, "Thank you for helping me. I got caught up in the majesty of Orario." He gestured vaguely at the illuminated streets and distant tower. "It's... more impressive than I imagined."
Alise accepted the excuse easily, her expression brightening with understanding. "Happens all the time! The city can be overwhelming for newcomers."
Then, with increasing enthusiasm, she offered: "Since you're new, do you want help with anything?" She began listing options, her excitement building with each suggestion. "Information about Familias? The Guild's location? Places to stay? Restaurants? Shopping districts?" She was getting progressively more animated, practically bouncing on her heels, because the act of helping clearly made her truly happy.
Meanwhile, Ryuu grumbled audibly about their patrol schedule and time constraints. She gave Max increasingly intense looks, her duty-focused nature conflicting with Alise's helpful instincts. The elf's expression suggested she was mentally calculating exactly how much their route was being delayed and whether she could justify dragging Alise away by force.
She looks like she would haunt my dreams if I delayed them any further, Max thought, catching another one of Ryuu's death stares. But this is an opportunity I can't pass up.
He needed to gather crucial timeline information and understand what was different about this era. The knowledge could be the difference between survival and catastrophic failure. Risking Ryuu's wrath was worth it.
Max thanked Alise formally. "Is it possible for you to share what's happening currently? I came here hearing legends about Zeus and Hera Familias, but the city feels heavier than I expected. What happened?"
Alise's expression shifted immediately. Her sunny demeanor dimmed noticeably as she took a moment before answering, choosing her words carefully. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of discussing painful history.
"Zeus and Hera Familias fell to the One-Eyed Black Dragon just over seven years ago." She paused, letting that sink in. "Freya Familia is currently the strongest in Orario. Ottar the Warlord is Level 6."
A brief silence followed where both Alise and Ryuu showed subtle sadness, their expressions reflecting shared grief for the fallen heroes who'd protected the city for generations.
Then Alise's conviction resurged. She forced brightness back into her voice with visible effort, her determination to remain optimistic shining through. "But don't worry! We're here to protect everyone! Justice will prevail! Astrea Familia keeps Orario safe!"
Her heroic conviction radiated from every word, genuine and unshakeable despite discussing tragedy.
Ryuu gave Max a direct, assessing look—not quite pitying but understanding. She recognized him as another newcomer who would learn Orario's harsh reality soon enough, one way or another.
"Thank you for your help, Ms. Alise and Ms. Lion," Max said with heartfelt sincerity. "I won't hold you any longer."
He was fully aware of Ryuu's intensifying impatient stare, which had reached levels that suggested she was contemplating whether city guards would question her if she just threw him over the nearby wall.
Alise offered immediately, her expression brightening, "We can walk you to the Guild building if you want? We're heading that direction for patrol anyway." There was no imposition in her tone, just her helpful nature shining through.
Max shook his head with an apologetic smile. "Thank you, but you've already helped me with the most important thing." The timeline information alone was worth more than directions, and Ryuu's increasingly intense stare suggested their patrol schedule was already suffering enough delays on his account.
Alise accepted his decision with an understanding nod, neither pushing nor seeming offended. Both women gave him final acknowledgments before leaping away—literally, jumping to the rooftops with the practiced ease of experienced adventurers.
Max watched them disappear into Orario's labyrinth of buildings, Alise's red hair visible for several moments like a beacon of hope against the city's tense backdrop, while Ryuu moved with efficient precision that seemed to cut through every obstacle. They had purpose. Direction. They knew exactly where they were going and what they needed to do.
He felt utterly displaced by comparison.
Standing alone on the cobblestone street as the city moved around him—merchants closing shops, adventurers heading home or toward taverns, guards making their rounds—Max realized he had no idea what his next move should be. Find the Guild? Join a Familia? Hide from the cat man? Figure out how to survive in a timeline he barely understood? The weight of too many choices and not enough information pressed down on him.
He felt Ryuu's gaze linger just a moment too long before they'd left, her eyes sharp and assessing, like she'd sensed something off but couldn't quite identify what. Her elven instincts were probably sharper than Alise's sunny optimism allowed her to be.
Hopefully Kairu's hiding skills were enough to throw off whatever she detected.
Max paused and took a few breaths to calm himself as his mind ran with more questions than answers and looked toward where the Guild building would be. At least that was something—a concrete first step in a city full of unknowns.
He was about to start walking when Kairu suddenly went rigid against his chest—a sharp, alarmed vibration that made Max freeze mid-step.
"Ki... ki..." The slime's voice was barely audible, trembling with something Max had never felt from him before.
Fear.
--> Devil in a Dungeon <--
AN:
Finally Max reached Orario, YAY!
Though things seem to be quite different from what he expected. I hope you know what this means?
Yep, we are a few months before the Astrea Record Timeline. And as if that revelation is not bad enough, things went from bad to worse for our poor Isekaid weeb.
We will see what happens next from Max's first Pov. In the meantime, please let me know your thoughts in a comment/review.
Next update will be on Saturday.
Ben, Out.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.