Max Pov
"I'm sorry, buddy," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I'm so, so sorry."
Kairu chirped weakly—ki, ki—and I felt only forgiveness radiating from him. No blame. No resentment. Just relief that I was okay, even though he was the one who'd been hurt.
That somehow made it worse.
I forced myself to focus. Priorities. Kairu first, existential crisis later.
"Alright, listen," I said, gently cradling the slime in my hands. His form felt lighter, less substantial—maybe half the mass he'd had before. Parts of him were still flickering, unstable, trying to hold cohesion. "You need to rest. No more weapon forms, no more magic stone collection, no more fighting, no more protecting my stupid ass from my own magic. Just focus on recovering, okay?"
I sensed his protest—weak but insistent. He wanted to keep helping, keep being useful—
"No," I said firmly but gently. "You've done more than enough. You saved me from that... whatever that was. Now it's my turn to take care of you."
I looked around frantically, adrenaline still singing through my veins despite the exhaustion. The corridor stretched in both directions—empty for now, but who knew when more monsters would spawn? The dungeon felt different now, quieter, like it was satisfied with its test. But I couldn't trust that.
Need to find somewhere safe. Somewhere defensible.
My eyes caught on a small alcove off the main corridor—barely more than a depression in the wall, but deep enough to sit in with my back protected.
"There," I muttered, staggering toward it.
My legs ached deep in the muscle, exhaustion settling into bone, but adrenaline and devil stamina kept me functional.
"Just rest, buddy," I said softly, watching his gelatinous form slowly stabilize as he stopped trying to maintain any particular shape. "I'll keep watch. I'll handle everything. You just focus on recovering."
Kairu pressed against my chest, nuzzling weakly. His exhaustion washed over me—soul-deep tired in a way I hadn't fully appreciated until now.
"I know," I whispered, patting his surface gently. "I know. Just sleep if you can. I've got you."
He finally relaxed, giving in to the exhaustion, trusting me completely to keep him safe. The little slime's form went still except for the slow, rhythmic pulse of his core—almost like breathing.
Only then did I let myself breathe.
I sat there for perhaps ten minutes, just keeping watch over Kairu's resting form, one hand protectively on his surface. My own breathing slowly steadied. My heart rate gradually returned to something approaching normal. The cold stone pressed against my back, the damp dungeon air carrying that metallic tang of earth and magic. The walls around me looked almost mundane now—just rough stone, dripping water, glowing moss. Like nothing had happened.
But something had happened. Multiple somethings.
My thoughts gradually settled into something resembling order, for the second time in hours. The panic faded, replaced by cold, analytical calm as I mentally walked through the night's events.
Alright. Let's think through what I actually know.
I was in Orario, approximately eight years before Bell Cranel would arrive. During the Dark Ages. Astrea Familia was still alive, but their clock was ticking. Maybe two years if my timeline estimates were correct.
And the Dungeon itself was... aware. More than just a labyrinth that spawned monsters. It was alive in a way I hadn't expected, and it had noticed me in a way that felt distinctly, terrifyingly personal.
"That's actually kind of horrifying," I admitted quietly, glancing down at Kairu. The slime wiggled slightly in his sleep, as if agreeing even unconscious.
But it also meant something important: I wasn't just another adventurer to this place. I was something new, something it couldn't categorize or control. And if the Dungeon couldn't control me, then maybe—just maybe—I had advantages here that even the gods didn't expect.
Something concrete to focus on beyond the immediate trauma. Good.
I pulled up a mental count of what had just happened: eleven waves. The first few had been maybe twenty monsters each. Then forty. Then sixty. The final waves had brought easily a hundred-plus. Across all of them? I'd killed almost a thousand monsters. Maybe more—I'd lost count after wave seven.
For the first floor.
That wasn't normal. That wasn't the dungeon just spawning monsters on a timer. That was the dungeon actively, deliberately throwing everything it had at me to see what I could handle. To test me. To try and categorize this anomaly that had walked into its domain.
And when the monsters hadn't been enough, it had tried something else. That psychic assault, that crushing pressure trying to pull me in and make me part of itself—
I shuddered at the memory, hand tightening protectively on Kairu's surface.
The little slime had been working nonstop since we'd contracted this morning. Learning to form weapons in real-time. Learning to fight. Getting injured protecting me. Consuming hundreds of magic stones. Adapting and improving with each wave. And he'd been just a normal slime until a few hours ago—living his best life in the river until I showed up and dragged him into all this.
I'd been pushing him relentlessly. Training by the river. Flying to Agris. Flying to Orario. Now this—hours of continuous combat against hundreds of monsters, culminating in a traumatic psychic assault that had damaged Kairu while he tried to protect me from my own power.
"I really am an asshole," I muttered, looking down at his sleeping form with a mixture of guilt and affection.
But even as the guilt sat heavy in my chest, I could sense Kairu's contentment—even in sleep, he radiated satisfaction at being here, at protecting me. He didn't regret it. Didn't blame me.
Which somehow made me feel both better and worse at the same time.
I sat there for several more minutes, just watching Kairu rest and processing everything. The dungeon remained quiet around me, that oppressive presence withdrawn but still lurking at the edges of awareness. Waiting to see what I'd do next.
Finally, I made my decision.
"Alright, buddy," I said softly, carefully scooping Kairu up. He was so light now, barely any weight at all. I tucked him gently inside my shirt against my chest where he'd be protected and could rest undisturbed. He settled there without waking, the warmth of my body seeming to help him relax further.
I stood slowly, testing my legs. Still tired, but functional. My shoulders ached from hours of sword work. My hands still trembled slightly from adrenaline crash. And Kairu was injured and depleted, working on maybe forty percent capacity at best.
I turned toward the entrance corridor, away from the stairs that led deeper.
My pride screamed at me to push deeper. Prove the dungeon can't intimidate me. Establish dominance or whatever devil nonsense. But pride was what got me thrown into that desert in the first place. Pride was what made me run from that cat guy instead of trying to explain. Pride was a shit motivator that got people killed.
I started walking, then paused after a few steps. A thought occurred to me.
"Actually, before we leave—let me try something real quick."
I knelt down carefully, making sure not to jostle Kairu where he rested against my chest, and pressed my palm flat against the stone floor. The teleportation anchor I'd placed in Agris had worked perfectly—a magical marker I could return to from anywhere. If I could establish one here, in the dungeon, it would give me a fast-travel point for future dives. Save time on the descent, let me jump straight to wherever I'd progressed to.
I channeled magic carefully—controlled, deliberate, nothing like the uncontrolled PoD from earlier. My crimson magic circle materialized, intricate patterns spreading across the stone floor. I fed it power, watching the seal sink into the surface until it became invisible, just like in Agris.
"There," I said, standing up carefully. "If that holds, I can teleport straight back to Floor 1 whenever I want instead of—"
Then I felt it.
A destabilization in the magic. Through my connection to the circle, I sensed something pressing against it. The dungeon's presence, no longer passive, pushing against the foreign magic like a body rejecting an infection.
"Oh, come on," I muttered, kneeling back down to observe.
Cracks appeared in the stone where I'd placed the circle. The magic circle flickered back into visibility, fracturing, the intricate patterns dissolving. Within maybe five minutes, it was gone completely. I couldn't feel any connection to it anymore—like it had never existed.
"Damn it," I said, standing and brushing stone dust off my hands. The dungeon actively rejected permanent magic placed inside it. Made sense—if adventurers could just set up teleportation networks throughout the dungeon, it would break the entire challenge. The dungeon was alive—of course it would reject foreign magic trying to establish itself in its body.
So much for the easy shortcut.
"Alright, Plan B," I said, starting to walk toward the deeper parts of Floor 1. "Not giving up on the teleportation anchor idea just yet though. The dungeon rejected it in the middle of the floor—maybe the boundaries between floors are different."
The dungeon had returned to normal spawn rates now—whatever test it had subjected me to was over. Instead of the relentless waves from before, only a handful of monsters emerged as I walked: a goblin here, two kobolds there.
I fell into a rhythm easily enough. My magic sense spread outward, scanning for spawns in my blind spots. When something emerged—CRACK-POP—I'd dispatch it with a quick PoD blast or, if it was close enough, a conjured blade from my hand. No need to wake Kairu for such small fry. The little guy deserved his rest.
Pop. Pop.
Two goblins down. I collected their magic stones as I walked, pocketing them for later as I continued walking. Kairu would absorb them when he woke up.
Magic in this world worked differently than mine, I mused, stepping over goblin ash. Most adventurers couldn't just... will their magic into existence like I did. They needed chants—full incantations for every spell, sometimes taking ten, twenty, even thirty seconds to complete. Hell, some of the high-level spells in the anime took so long the caster needed a full party protecting them just to finish casting.
My magic sense pinged—something moving behind me.
I raised my hand without turning, not even breaking stride. Crimson energy crackled, and I fired backward.
Pop.
The kobold that had been trying to sneak up on me dissipated into ash. I glanced back, collected its stone, and kept walking.
Concurrent casting, I remembered suddenly, the term surfacing from my anime knowledge. There'd been a whole episode in Sword Oratoria dedicated to Lefiya learning it—casting magic while moving, fighting, doing literally anything else. It was treated like this incredibly advanced technique that only high-level mages could manage, and even then it took years of practice.
I'd just done it without thinking. Walked, sensed, aimed, fired, all while my conscious mind was focused on something else entirely.
That would make me stand out in a crowd, I realized, a grin spreading across my face.
I could already picture it: some Familia's front door, dozens of hopeful adventurers lined up, all desperately trying to catch the gods' attention. Combat demonstrations, fancy weapon flourishes, dramatic poses. And then me, just casually walking past, not even looking, snapping my fingers and—
Snap.
A small burst of fire crackled in the air beside me, like a firecracker going off. No chant. No hand gestures. No focus or concentration. Just intent and result.
"Yeah," I said, grinning wider. "That'll definitely get their attention."
Most mages in this world were glass cannons—powerful but fragile, requiring parties to protect them while they completed their chants. But me? I could fight, move, defend, and cast simultaneously. That wasn't just useful—that was broken by this world's standards.
The question was whether making myself that obviously abnormal was smart. Standing out meant attention. Attention meant questions. Questions meant scrutiny I might not want.
Then again, my entire existence here was abnormal. Devil physiology, Power of Destruction, wings, contract magic—I was already walking around with more red flags than a communist parade. Adding "can cast without chanting" to that list wasn't going to make things significantly worse.
And if it got me into a strong Familia faster? One that could actually protect me while I figured out how to navigate this world's politics?
Worth it.
Another goblin spawned ahead. I didn't even slow down, just flicked my wrist. A small blade of compressed wind sliced through its neck.
Pop.
"Definitely worth it," I confirmed, collecting the stone and continuing deeper into Floor 1.
With the immediate danger reduced to mere annoyance, my mind drifted back to the problem I'd been chewing on during the flight to Orario: Which Familia should I actually join?
The question had been sitting in the back of my mind since I arrived. Now, with Kairu sleeping peacefully against my chest and nothing but grunt-level monsters to deal with, it seemed like a good time to actually think it through seriously. I opened my mental checklist of possible familias from the anime.
Hestia and Hermes—both out. Hestia wasn't even in Orario yet, wouldn't arrive for another eight years. And Hermes Familia, while led by a brilliant god and home to Asfi? Not strong enough. With fewer first-class adventurers around compared to canon timeline, leveling fast was going to catch everyone's attention—and with my devil hax, fast leveling was practically a given. They'd just get caught in the crossfire of divine politics they couldn't navigate if someone like Apollo came knocking.
A kobold lunged from a side passage. I bisected it with a quick slash, the burnt-meat smell of disintegrating flesh barely registering anymore.
Dian Cecht Familia? The healing route had appeal—one spell book and I could learn healing magic, live a comfortable life as a combat healer with my utility. But when the Black Dragon comes, healing won't save my ass. Unless I could invent something like the Yin Seal for continuous regeneration, being just a healer felt like limiting my potential. One-trick pony syndrome.
Two more goblins. Pop-pop. The echo of destruction magic bounced off stone walls.
Apollo? I almost laughed. Stronger than Dian Cecht, sure, but that holier-than-thou attitude? If he started treating me like a possession, I might actually lash out. For someone supposed to be warm like the sun, he was one hell of an asshole in canon. Hard pass.
Three kobolds spawned ahead, their red skin catching the dim moss-light as I erased them, while my thoughts continued.
Demeter Familia. Now that one was actually tempting—and not just for the two BIG reasons I was thinking of. I grinned at my own terrible joke. I could easily help with harvest and transportation using Kairu and my teleportation circles. Their captain seemed solid. Overall, an okay choice if nothing else worked out. But... peaceful farmer life versus actually accomplishing something meaningful? The question nagged at me as I burned through three more spawns.
Astrea Familia.
I paused mid-step, a goblin's magic stone clutched in my hand.
The Familia of Justice. In the glimpses I got from flashbacks in the anime, they were kind, courageous, fought for what was right. And in a weird way, I was in the dungeon because of them. If not for Alise confirming the timeline, maybe I'd be back in Agris, chilling and planning where to go—probably avoiding Orario completely realising the black hole in my knowledge, taking the cultivation route in some mountain somewhere.
It was my decision to get strong enough to save them that brought me here. That put me on this path.
They'd be a good fit, I thought, resuming my walk. Really good, actually.
But then reality reasserted itself with a cold splash of logic.
They were an all-female Familia. Pretty sure some guys would be interested in joining such a reputable group, but the fact that none had succeeded? That pointed to something deliberate. Maybe it related to some of their members having issues with men—that was pretty common in DanMachi, trauma being what it was in a world with monsters and divine politics.
Would Goddess Astrea even allow me in?
I killed another kobold absently, barely registering the motion.
But if she did...
The thought lingered, tantalizing. If she did accept me—even if my identity as a Devil got revealed later—having the Justice Familia supporting me would silence any doubts about my character. Their word would carry weight that no amount of my own accomplishments could match.
Their members might not be that strong now, but they'd level up soon enough, right? Alise was already Level 4, and from what I remembered, Ryuu and the others weren't far behind. That trajectory put them in the upper echelon of Orario's familias within a few years.
Unlike the previous options, this one felt... right. Good fit, assuming they'd take me.
"Worth a shot," I muttered, pocketing another magic stone. "Worst case, Astrea says no and I move on to the next option."
Finally, I reached the area I'd been heading toward—the transition point where Floor 1's corridor met the stairway that would lead down to Floor 2. The architecture here was subtly different, the stone smoother, the magical pressure in the air shifting like crossing an invisible boundary.
"Alright," I said softly, patting where Kairu rested against my chest. "Let me try one more thing before we head out."
I knelt carefully at the top of the stairs—right at the threshold between floors—and pressed my palm flat against the stone. If my gut feeling was correct, the dungeon's rejection should be slower near floor boundaries. Maybe here, at an actual transition point, it would tolerate the magic long enough to be useful.
I channeled magic carefully—controlled, deliberate. My crimson magic circle materialized, intricate patterns spreading across the stone. I fed it power, watching the circle sink into the surface until it became invisible.
Then I waited.
One minute passed. Two. Five. Ten.
The circle held stable. I could feel the connection clearly—a magical anchor point I could theoretically return to. The dungeon's presence was still there, still aware of the foreign magic, but it wasn't actively rejecting it the way it had before.
Interesting. Floor boundaries really are different.
Fifteen minutes passed. The circle remained, though I could sense a very slow degradation—like the dungeon was tolerating it rather than accepting it. Eventually it would probably break down, but much more slowly than the five minutes in the middle of the floor.
"Good enough for now," I muttered, standing up. "If these last even a day, I can use them as temporary fast-travel points for each dive. Better than nothing."
Place anchor seals at floor transition points. They'll decay eventually, but slowly enough to be useful for repeated dives in the same session.
Satisfied with that small victory, I turned away from the stairs leading down and started the long walk back toward the entrance.
Alright, back to familia planning. I killed a goblin that spawned in my path. Where was I? Right—farmer life isn't cutting it.
Hephaestus Familia. More appeal than Demeter, honestly. I could learn blacksmithing easily with Imagination magic, crank out high-quality weapons. Deep diving with Tsubaki to harvest materials sounded fun, and making magic swords genuinely interested me. But they weren't exactly an exploration familia not considering the need for Blacksmith developmental ability to learn secret techniques. Split focus between smithing and dungeon diving? While making weapons was cool, it wasn't the same as going deeper and deeper, pushing my limits against increasingly dangerous monsters. That's the life I wanted.
Another spawn wave—five goblins this time. I dispatched them methodically, muscle memory taking over while my mind continued working through the options.
Ganesha Familia. Big leagues territory. The people's god, the police force of Orario, one of the largest familias. Aside from his questionable taste in architecture—seriously, those entrances—the familia was solid. But I didn't actually know how deep they went into the dungeon. Very mysterious for such a public-facing familia. I'd probably fit in fine with Kairu, but that guy Hashana at the checkpoint wasn't exactly the best advertisement...
Unsure. Possible backup option, but not the best.
Which brought me to the real contenders.
Loki Familia.
The trickster goddess. The deepest exploration familia in Orario. Home to the Braver, the Sword Princess, and—
Riveria. And all the elves.
Oh. Oh shit. Taking into account the ruckus I'd just made near their homeland—the whole lake incident—if I joined Loki Familia, the elves would absolutely make me do some kind of punishment. Community service. I could already imagine their smug looks as I swept their quarters as penance.
The thought made me shudder mid-step. Goodie-two-shoes elves and their righteous punishment.
Three goblins spawned ahead. I erased them almost absentmindedly.
Not that I'd need Riveria for concurrent chanting anyway—I'd already figured that out on my own, apparently. My focus would be more on Ais and Finn if I joined.
Ais Wallenstein. The prodigy who broke records that held until Bell shattered them years later. But the age gap was still insane even accounting for that—from my understanding of the timeline, she must be around seven or eight right now. More doll than actual girl at this point in her development. On one hand, I could nurture her, help her grow faster, maybe prevent some of the emotional stunting that made her so... blank in canon. On the other hand—
Finn.
He was the real problem.
The Pallum was the smartest strategist in Orario, no question. But he could be bought. In canon, Loki Familia's participation against Freya was purchased by Royman with some intel on Floor 60, and that was all Finn's decision. A guy who prioritized the glory and goodwill of himself and his Familia above anything else—even justice, even loyalty to allies.
Why did that matter?
I killed two more kobolds without breaking stride, my thoughts darkening.
Imagine when a situation comes—and it would come—where the Evils, being the crazy bastards they were, spread rumors about my nature. About what I really was. Because why wouldn't they? Chaos was their whole thing.
Would Finn and Loki Familia stand by me? Would they defend a devil when public opinion turned against me? When keeping me became politically inconvenient?
A big IF. One I didn't want to bet my well-being and life on.
Obviously, I could become stronger than Finn by then, shut everyone up through sheer overwhelming power. But that meant constantly living in fear, always having exit strategies ready, never truly trusting the people who were supposed to be my allies.
Why would I want that?
Maybe not Loki Familia after all.
Which left one final option. The one I'd been avoiding thinking about.
Freya Familia.
I killed two more kobolds while organizing my thoughts.
Not exactly thrilled about the Goddess of Beauty. The anime spent a whole-ass season showing everyone how bad and flawed Freya Familia was. The baptism that broke people. The near-fanatical worship of the goddess. The members' hostility with each other, constant rivalry and bickering. And the biggest clusterfuck of all— Freya taking control of the entire city because of one dumb, ignorant rabbit boy. That ultimate drama bomb would have made me reconsider even thinking about Freya as a possible choice.
Another goblin tried to ambush me. I vaporized it without looking.
But... there were a few reasons I was even considering her.
First: Fuck Canon with a capital F.
My Devil side practically purred in agreement. I wasn't here to follow the same script. I was here to rewrite it. Things remaining the same? Slim to none.
Second: Safety.
If I managed to get Freya's attention—whether through my flashy entrance, my magic, my transformation, or hell, even as a 'potential' Odr until Bell showed up and she inevitably got obsessed with him—I would be set. Freya Familia wouldn't care about rumors spread by the Evils. And even if some members had personal issues with a devil in their ranks, they'd maintain the "Strongest Familia" image in public. We could sort out internal differences during the baptism or whatever trial they threw at me.
My inner pragmatist nodded approvingly. Political protection from the most powerful goddess in the city? That was worth consideration.
Obviously, my NNN-enlightened Sage side warned me about her character—or lack thereof.
My only response to that? Unless I really love her and want to be with her, it wouldn't matter.
Once I became strong enough, I could be with whoever I wanted. That was the rule of DxD—power attracts women. Absolute power attracts the most powerful women. Then I could set my own conditions and rules about who I wanted to be with, on my terms, not because some goddess decided I was her new toy.
And if things got messy? I had teleportation. Exit strategy built-in.
Besides the political angle, there were the members themselves. Ottar, obviously—the strongest adventurer in Orario, Level 6 even in this timeline. But also Hedin with his lightning magic. My PoD was raw destructive power, but watching someone who'd mastered offensive magic at that level? I could learn precision, control, maybe even figure out how to apply similar principles to my own abilities.
Hogni's swordsmanship too. Kairu was learning weapon forms, but my actual technique was basic at best. Training with someone at Hogni's level could turn those crude slashes into actual skill.
The variety alone was valuable—Freya collected the best, which meant exposure to multiple fighting styles, magic types, and tactical approaches. Allen's speed, the Gulliver brothers' coordination, whatever the hell the other high-level members brought to the table. Each one was a potential teacher, a different perspective on combat I could absorb and adapt.
This is in no part because of the sheer sugar mommy-ness she radiates, I told myself firmly, even as I knew that was at least partially a lie.
Actually, now that I think about it—
Freya Familia was the only option where my devil identity becoming public knowledge wouldn't be an automatic death sentence. Loki Familia might cut me loose for political convenience. Ganesha Familia would have to maintain their public image as the "people's protectors"—hard to do with a literal demon in their ranks. Astrea Familia... they'd probably give me a fair hearing, but their whole identity was built on justice and righteousness. A devil member would put them under massive scrutiny from other gods.
But Freya? She collected interesting souls. The stranger and more powerful, the better. Being a devil wouldn't make me a liability—it would make me exotic. A prize. The Goddess of Beauty adding a literal demon to her collection? That was on-brand for her, not a scandal.
The other familias would need to justify keeping me. Freya would just need to want me.
That difference mattered more than I'd initially realized.
I nodded to myself, feeling somewhat better.
Besides, I don't need to decide tonight. I can scope out options tomorrow after rest.
Another small wave spawned—four goblins, two kobolds. I dealt with them efficiently, the rhythm of walking, sensing, and dispatching having become almost meditative.
I paused mid-stride, catching sight of my reflection in a patch of damp stone wall that gleamed like a crude mirror. Yikes. Tattered clothes hanging off my frame, covered in monster ash and sweat that made me reek of blood and dungeon dampness. Dark circles under my eyes from exhaustion. Hair a complete mess. And here I was, muttering to myself about goddesses and familias like a complete lunatic.
I look like I just escaped a mental institution. Or maybe I should be committed to one. "Yes, doctor, I'm a reincarnated devil trying to decide which goddess to join while talking to my sleeping slime familiar. Perfectly sane."
I shook my head and kept walking. The sooner I found somewhere to sleep and clean up, the better.
Magic stones collected. Kairu still sleeping peacefully against my chest. The dungeon remaining blessedly quiet compared to before.
Finally, I reached the area near where I'd first entered Floor 1. The spiral stairs leading up to Babel's entrance hall were just ahead.
I paused, looking around. The corridor was empty—no other adventurers in sight. It was well past midnight; the dungeon would be practically deserted at this hour. Most sane people were either home or had finished their dives hours ago.
Why am I walking when I have wings?
The thought hit me with the force of exhausted obviousness. I'd been on autopilot, just trudging along collecting stones, but there was no reason to climb those stairs manually. No one would see me at this hour anyway.
"Screw it," I muttered, letting my wings emerge from my back with a satisfying stretch. The crimson membranes unfurled, and the relief of not suppressing them anymore was immediate. "Much better."
I gave them an experimental flap, lifting off the ground easily despite my exhaustion. Flying required less energy than walking at this point anyway—my legs were dead, but my wings felt fine.
I rose up through the center of the spiral stairwell, bypassing all thirty-odd feet of stairs in seconds. Just before emerging into the entrance hall above, I retracted my wings smoothly—no need to advertise what I was to any straggling adventurers—and landed on the final step with barely a sound.
"Should've done that earlier," I said to Kairu, as he continued to rest.
I emerged into the entrance hall properly, that beautiful painted sky ceiling stretching overhead in eternal azure and gold. The place was mostly empty.
After hours in the dungeon, stepping back into artificial lighting felt surreal. I approached the exit corridor cautiously, exhaustion weighing on every step, and peeked around the edge before fully emerging into Babel's main plaza.
One of the guards at the watchpost had completely given up, head slumped against the wooden frame, snoring softly. His partner was fighting a losing battle with sleep, staring intently at the magic lamp as if its glow could keep his eyelids from drooping.
Perfect. No one paying attention.
The fountain plaza beyond was nearly deserted at this dead hour—just two hooded figures waiting by the fountain. One sitting on the stone rim, the other standing beside them. Both completely still.
Something about them felt wrong. Who waited at a public fountain well past midnight, just... sitting there? Hooded? Not moving?
A chill ran down my spine despite my exhaustion. That primal danger sense—the one that had driven me into the dungeon earlier—stirred uneasily but didn't scream. Just a low-level unease, probably paranoia after everything tonight. I was too exhausted to trust my instincts clearly anymore.
A few stores in the distance still had their lights on—late-night establishments catering to adventurers keeping odd hours—but they were too far away to notice me. Or those two figures. The plaza felt isolated, abandoned, like a stage set for something I didn't want to be part of.
Don't draw attention. Don't get recognized.
With that thought, I reached for my magic, the familiar tingle of transformation washing over me. My features shifted—black hair, pale skin, onyx eyes. Itachi's face stared back at me from my reflection in a nearby window. The transformation was smooth, automatic, barely requiring conscious thought anymore.
Good. Just another random adventurer leaving the dungeon. Nothing to see here.
I carefully transferred Kairu from my chest into my storage bag, cushioning him with spare cloth. Safer there if trouble came. I adjusted the bag in front of me, trying to look normal. Head down. Shoulders hunched from exhaustion—which wasn't even acting at this point.
The hooded pair were on the eastern side of the plaza, near the route I'd taken in earlier. So I angled myself west instead, skirting the fountain in a wide arc. No reason to walk right past the suspicious duo if I could help it.
My boots clicked softly against stone as I walked, steps measured, unhurried. The hooded figures didn't move to intercept, didn't call out, didn't break their eerie stillness. After a few tense minutes, the edge of the plaza fell behind me, buildings closing in as I slipped into a quieter west street lit by scattered magic lamps.
Only then did I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
That was when my stomach growled. Loudly.
I winced, glancing around as if someone might have heard. All that adventuring must've made me hungry, I thought, embarrassment mixing with the bone-deep fatigue settling into my limbs.
Fine. Bench first, food second, then find somewhere to crash.
I scanned the street for a place to sit, already reaching into my bag to fish out my canteen—when a shadow fell across my path.
A huge figure stepped in front of me.
In Itachi's body, I had decent height, but I still had to tilt my head back to look at her. Broad shoulders. Solid build. Presence that pressed against the air like a physical force.
"Ye hungry there, kid?" the woman asked, voice rough but threaded with concern.
I blinked, momentarily thrown. Before I could decide whether to lie or play it cool, she took my silence as answer. One massive hand closed around the back of my collar with surprising gentleness, and the next thing I knew, she'd turned me around and half-guided, half-carried me through a nearby doorway.
I barely had time to register the warm light and the smell of food before I found myself set down on a sturdy wooden chair at a table.
What just happened?
A bowl of steaming hot food appeared in front of me almost immediately, like she'd conjured it from thin air. My brain finally caught up with my eyes.
Short brown hair. Muscular arms crossed under an apron. The faint impression of a bear in human form.
Mama Mia. From the Hostess of Fertility.
Why was she being this generous? In canon, she was strict, intimidating, practical to a fault—but not unkind. Maybe before the story kicked off, before Bell and the others turned the place into HQ for chaos, she was… more open-handed with strays?
A heavy finger nudged the edge of the bowl toward me, breaking me out of my daze.
"Eat up, kiddo," she said, as if that settled everything.
My body moved before my pride could protest. The first bite hit like a healing spell—hot, savory, comforting. I hadn't realized how empty I felt until then. I ate, then kept eating, the tension in my shoulders slowly bleeding away with each mouthful.
Gratitude welled up, sharp and unfamiliar in my chest. For a moment, another scene overlapped with this in my mind—Stella pressing food into my hands back in River Village, insisting I carry extra food, with motherly warmth.
Different women. Same simple kindness.
By the time I finished the first bowl, Mia had already set down a second. I didn't even pretend to refuse it. When I finally pushed the empty bowl away, I felt full in a way I hadn't since arriving in Orario—stomach satisfied, muscles relaxing, mind finally letting go.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a coin, placing it carefully on the table.
Mia glanced at it, then snorted.
"That's too much for a bit o' food," she said, tone gruff. She jerked her chin toward the stairs. "Upstairs. First door on the right. Ye look ready t' keel over. Bed's empty. Use it."
Arguing with a woman who could probably break my spine with one hand seemed like a poor life choice. And beyond that, Mia Grand offering a bed? That was the kind of blessing even a devil knew better than to refuse.
"...Thank you," I managed, voice coming out softer than expected.
She waved me off like it was nothing and moved away to wipe down another table.
I grabbed my bag, making sure Kairu was still nestled safely inside, and trudged up the stairs. First door on the right. Simple room. Clean sheets. A real bed.
I closed the door behind me, let the transformation drop, and didn't even bother undressing fully. The moment my head hit the pillow, consciousness shut off like someone had flipped a switch.
I was asleep before my next thought could form.
- Devil in a Dungeon -
AN:
Things have drastically changed, eh. Hope the expanded Familia deliberation showed enough reason for Max's motivations and his choice.
And he found lodging with the most experienced captain in Orario right now, would those hooded figures dare to attempt something funny? Let me know your thoughts in a comment/review.
This officially ends the first Arc of the story. We jump into the second arc from the next chapter.
Next update will be on Saturday.
Happy New Year, everyone! Hope the year brings abundant joy, health, prosperity and growth to you and your family!
Ben, Out.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.