General Pov
Freya nodded in deep satisfaction. "Very well. It is decided."
She stood up, her aura flaring with finalized authority.
"Kairu," she decreed, "you shall be the newest Executive. Your primary purview will be the complete oversight, maintenance, and resource management of the Rivira Outpost's teleportation network."
Crack.
The sound of the table fracturing under Hedin's white-knuckled grip finally broke the breathless silence of the room.
From the corner, another sound followed. A strangled, highly undignified snort that escaped from beneath Hogni's dark collar.
Every eye snapped to the Dark Elf.
Hogni had both hands clamped over his mouth, his shoulders trembling violently. The usually terrified, highly anxious swordsman was looking at his fiercely proud, elitist peers having their whole reality dismantled by a cheerful blue puddle. The pure, unmitigated absurdity of it had bypassed his anxiety completely.
Hedin's eyes widened in blind outrage. "Are you mocking us, Hogni?"
Hogni violently shook his head, coughing into his fist to mask the sound, though his eyes danced with undisguised mirth. He couldn't help it. He knew exactly what the brave little slime was capable of, and watching Hedin's immaculate composure completely short-circuit was the greatest thing he had ever witnessed.
But that muffled sound severed the very last thread of Allen's restraint.
"I will not accept this."
Allen's voice was a guttural, feral snarl. He stepped forward, his fists clenched so tightly his claws drew blood from his own palms. "I will not share authority with a pet. I will not be ranked alongside a mindless blob."
"For once, the feline's barbaric impulse aligns with necessity," Hedin hissed, stepping up beside Allen, desperate to reassert logic over the spiraling room. "My Lady, this is a grotesque breach of protocol. Beyond its intellect, there is a fundamental logistical flaw—it cannot speak. How can a commander manage an outpost without the ability to communicate?"
Before Freya could answer, Grer dropped to one knee. His three brothers shadowed him instantly, their faces tight with a mixture of panic and wounded pride.
"My Goddess, please," Grer gritted out, his head bowed. "We have bled for you. We are on the very cusp of a breakthrough. Do not cast us aside for a novelty."
Freya's amused smile vanished.
The temperature in the war room seemed to plummet. The crushing weight of a Goddess's true displeasure pressed down on the executives, freezing them where they stood.
"A novelty?" Freya's voice was soft, but it carried a crushing edge.
She turned her gaze to the Chief Strategist. "Hedin. The communication rings Ottar distributed before this meeting began. Tell me, who do you think crafted them?"
Hedin's hand instinctively moved toward the silver bracelet already clasped at his wrist. His eyes narrowed, clearly already having assumed a master smith from the city's upper forges had been commissioned. That a Level Four artificer had spent weeks painstakingly integrating the enchantment matrix into the silver.
"You assumed a master smith," Freya murmured, reading the assumption in his eyes as easily as reading ink on a page. She reached out and gently stroked Kairu's smooth, cool surface.
"It was him."
Hedin's breath hitched. His eyes snapped from the Goddess to the blue puddle resting calmly on the mahogany table. He knew precisely what forging a magic item required. The agonizingly low success rates, the requisite Mystery or Blacksmith Developmental Abilities, and the relentless discipline demanded even of Orario's greatest craftsmen. The rings were not crude. They were elegant, layered constructs. Multi-user network artifacts.
Which means the slime wasn't just a pet. It was a mobile, high-tier magical forge. Capable of mass-producing strategic-grade artifacts secretly.
Hedin's analytical mind began to rapidly, sickeningly recalibrate.
Freya did not let up. She swept her gaze over the Gullivers and Allen.
"He mapped the teleportation network," Freya stated coldly, listing the truths one by one. "He hunted and slaughtered Green Dragons on the twenty-fourth floor on his own to earn his Level Up. And when a rogue spell threatened to consume my chambers, he shielded me from certain destruction with his own mass."
She looked down at her vanguard, her eyes unyielding. "He has earned his place at this table, irrespective of a human tongue."
The silence in the room was suffocating.
Hedin's jaw was tight. The Gullivers stared at the floor. Allen's teeth were grinding audibly. They couldn't deny the strategic value of the bracelets now clasped to their own wrists. They couldn't dispute a confirmed solo kill in the deep Middle Floors.
Yet Freya saw the bitter resentment still clinging to their auras like smoke. She knew exactly what fueled it. It wasn't logic anymore. It was pure ego. The specific, deeply personal ego of warriors who had clawed their way to the summit through years of blood and sacrifice, only to watch something newly born sit at their table as an equal.
Freya leaned back in her chair.
"You look upon him and feel insulted," Freya said, her voice softening into something dark and knowing. "You look at his rapid ascent and feel it mocks your own. I know what you have sacrificed for me. I know the blood you shed, the agony you endured, and the prejudice you shattered to stand in this room as my vanguard."
She paused, letting the validation settle over their bruised pride.
"But your pride has made you stagnant," Freya stated coldly. "You seethe at a monster reaching Level Four because it met a requirement, yet you remain totally blind to the true anomaly standing in our midst. You complain of this familiar's rise, yet his master—a boy who was unblessed a mere fortnight ago—has already shattered his limits to reach Level Three."
The executives flinched as if struck by a physical blow.
Allen's head snapped up, his eyes wide and utterly unguarded.
Level Three!?
The words detonated somewhere deep in his chest. He had been ignoring the boy. Deliberately. With practiced, contemptuous ease. Every ounce of his aggression since that humiliating encounter had been redirected outward—into the Evilus hunts, into the bodies of Freya Familia's enemies, into every poor fool foolish enough to cross his path in the past fortnight. He had been channeling his frustration so efficiently that he had managed to convince himself the boy was simply an embarrassing anomaly. An irritant. Not a threat.
Level Three. In two weeks.
Allen's claws slowly curled against his palms again, fresh blood welling in his skin. The boy hadn't just survived the Dungeon. He had devoured it.
The Gulliver brothers had gone utterly still.
They had been under a different kind of rock — not ignorance, but obsession. They had sealed themselves in a brutal, self-imposed training regiment, driven by the singular, all-consuming goal of reaching Level Five before anyone could look down at them again. They had barely registered the boy's name beyond the surface-level scorn they reserved for all outsiders. A class-less, lucky street rat who had wormed his way into their Mistress's interest.
Now that street rat had two Levels on a fortnight.
Alfrigg and Grer exchanged a single, wordless look. The same grim arithmetic was running behind both sets of eyes. At that rate of growth, he wouldn't just catch them. He would overtake them. And they had spent years — years — earning the ground beneath their feet.
But it was Hedin whose reaction cut the deepest and the quietest.
He didn't flinch or freeze. He simply closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the confirmation of something he had already, reluctantly, begun to suspect.
He had lost to Maximus. Fairly, frustratingly, completely. And in the immediate aftermath he had attributed it to circumstance — to the chaos of an uncontrolled environment, to variables he hadn't accounted for. He had filed it away as a data point to be examined, not a verdict to be accepted.
But hearing it from her lips changed the weight of it fundamentally.
His Mistress didn't announce a Level Three casually. She announced it like a warning shot. Hedin's eyes opened, and behind his lenses his gaze settled on the middle distance with the cold, precise focus of a man recalibrating a battlefield map in real time. He would need to watch Maximus far more carefully going forward. Not out of fear. Out of the same professional necessity one applied to any rapidly evolving variable in a complex strategic theater.
Besides, he thought, straightening almost imperceptibly, an executive position would still place the boy nominally under his jurisdiction. He had managed Hogni's anxieties, Allen's feral impulses, and the Gullivers' explosive competitive instincts for years.
How difficult could one headstrong madman truly be?
The thought was almost settling — right up until Freya spoke again.
"However," she said, and the single word carried the weight of a blade being drawn, "if sharing a table with Kairu is truly that unbearable to your pride... I am not an unreasonable Goddess."
Freya offered them an innocent smile.
"I can easily rescind the familiar's promotion. I will simply wait for Maximus to reach Level Four—which, at this rate, will not take long—and grant the Executive seat to him instead."
The settling thought in Hedin's mind shattered like porcelain dropped on stone.
A jolt of pure panic flashed through the room.
Maximus. Becoming an Executive? Not nominally under his purview. Beside him. At the same table. With the same authority. A wildcard who treated protocol as a mild suggestion and institutional hierarchy as an interesting concept to be debated. The administrative catastrophe that mental image conjured made Hedin's eye twitch.
Allen's tail lashed hard enough to crack the air. He despised the boy. The thought of being forced to stand shoulder to shoulder with that blue-haired bastard, to grant him the same recognition and rank that Allen had nearly killed himself to earn — it made his blood boil hotter than the sun.
The Gulliver brothers shared a single look of identical, undisguised horror. A silent monster who sat still and did its job was a tolerable indignity. Maximus as their peer was a completely different category of nightmare.
Hedin was the first to recover, clearing his throat with practiced, if slightly frantic, smoothness.
"That will not be necessary, my Lady," Hedin said, adjusting his glasses precisely. "Upon further review of the familiar's tactical profile, its utility is clearly adequate for the Rivira post. It will serve the Familia well."
"Agreed," Allen practically choked out, staring rigidly at the floor.
"We welcome the addition," Grer added hastily, his brothers nodding in rapid, desperate unison.
Freya's smile shifted from predatory to genuinely amused. They were her flawless, terrifying weapons. And they were so remarkably easy to aim when properly motivated.
"I am glad we are in agreement," Freya said, her tone returning to sovereign calm. "Now. All Evilus-related assignments are hereby suspended, effective immediately. That chapter is finished. Your energy, your focus, and every drop of your ambition belongs to one objective — getting stronger. The Dungeon is waiting, and you have been wasting yourselves on surface-level prey for too long."
She let that settle, then continued.
"Rivira comes first. I want the Outpost established with efficiency, precision, and speed. No half measures. Once it is fully operational and running smoothly, I will brief you on the next phase." Her silver eyes swept over each of them in turn. "There are more changes coming. Significant ones. But I will not lay a new foundation on unstable ground, so see to this one first. Make it swift. Make it clean. Make it worthy of this Familia."
"And then," she added, something shifting in her voice — quiet, electric, and ancient, "we go on expedition."
The word landed like a stone dropped into still water. Expedition. Not a dive. Not a patrol. An expedition. Into the Dungeon's depths.
"Yes, my Goddess," they said — not in chorus this time, but each in their own voice, with their own particular, fervent weight.
"Furthermore," Freya continued, nodding toward the silver bands at their wrists, "use the communication rings. Immediately. Consistently. I want our reliance on runners gone. Learn them. Trust them. They are your lifeline going forward."
She paused. A softer warmth entered her voice, intimate and precise.
"You may contact me directly, if necessity demands it. But you will identify yourselves before speaking."
The effect was instantaneous. Every remaining thread of resentment and bruised pride dissolved, overwritten completely by something fiercer and more absolute. A direct line to their Goddess's voice, reachable even from the depths of the Dungeon — it was not a tool. It was a covenant.
"We are deeply honored, Lady Freya," Hedin said, bowing low, his voice perfectly steady again.
"We will not fail you," Allen vowed, his fervor raw and unguarded.
Freya nodded at them and dismissed the meeting.
As the executives turned and filed out, their minds already churning with new purpose — and the long, unsettling shadow of Max's growth stretching across every thought — Kairu gave a happy, bouncy jiggle.
"Ki Ki!"
The slime launched himself off the table with cheerful abandon, sailing through the air and landing with a soft, decisive splat directly onto Hogni's shoulder.
Hogni stiffened for half a heartbeat. Then he gently raised a hand and patted the cool, gelatinous mass settled against his neck. A small, sincere smile touched the Dark Elf's lips beneath his scarf as he carried the Familia's newest Executive through the heavy double doors.
The doors clicked shut.
The suffocating pressure of the war council lifted all at once, like a tide pulling back from the shore.
Freya remained at the head of the table alone save for the vast, quiet shadow of Ottar in the corner. She leaned back, letting out a long, deeply satisfied breath.
The pieces were on the board. Her weapons were sharpening themselves again.
-◈ -
Max
The night air hit him like a much-needed reprieve.
Max pushed through the Hostess's door and immediately increased his pace, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Mia before she could think of another twelve things to add to his already impossible workload.
The meeting had gone surprisingly well. They had agreed to run a trial of Kairu's monster meat through the kitchen, evaluate the results honestly, and form a proper partnership if the numbers held up. It was a clean, practical, and promising arrangement.
The problem was that Mia's brain had not stopped at clean and practical.
She had kept going, stringing one idea to the next, and before he knew it, she had casually mentioned that his new food operation would probably make Demeter furious.
His focus had immediately, catastrophically betrayed him.
The moment Mia said her name, his mind had involuntarily supplied two very large, very compelling reasons why he had originally planned to approach Demeter Familia—reasons that had literally nothing to do with agricultural policy.
He had physically shaken his head to clear it, but Mia had caught the exact moment it happened. The slow, knowing smirk that spread across her face was the final straw. He had started walking toward the exit, and her parting words followed him out into the street.
"Think about it! And I'll consider the dungeon again!"
Max stopped mid-step on the cobblestones.
She would actually consider diving again. He let out a slow exhale, realizing that her concession alone made the whole chaotic evening worth it. He needed strong, capable people active on the board, and getting Mia back into the Dungeon was no small victory.
He filed the thought away and let his mind shift forward to his next task.
He needed to scout the southwest quadrant around Daedalus Street. He had to get a clearer picture of the district before he could build any serious strategy to handle Evilus, especially if Ouranos was going to continue sitting on his ass doing nothing while the city quietly bled.
He turned toward Babel, his mind already sorting out his route and timing, and walked directly into someone.
He collided solidly with the person, hearing a surprised intake of breath followed by the harsh scrape of boots losing traction on the stone.
"Ouch."
Max looked down. The young woman sitting on the cobblestones had crimson hair and an expression that was rapidly fighting surprise into composure. Rather than simply registering that she had fallen, her eyes were already sharp and assessing which only allowed Max to quickly recognise her.
Alise?
"Are you blind?"
He looked up. Standing to the side with her arms crossed, her pale blonde hair catching the lantern light, was Ryuu. Her gaze carried the exact temperature of deep water in winter.
Max winced internally. Why did every interaction he had with these two involve someone falling over?
He immediately extended his hand to help Alise up, and as he did, a third voice entered the scene.
"Are you alright, Alise?"
The girl who stepped forward was a stranger to him. She had short slate-blue hair and cerulean eyes, wearing an outfit that was precise and slightly eccentric, suggesting she made very deliberate choices about her appearance. She was already looking at Max the way an architect assesses an unusual structure—quiet, measuring, but not unfriendly.
Alise gave a short confirming nod. The girl's expression shifted from analytical to cheerful with unsettling speed as she turned to Max.
"Hello, Mister! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Max replied, brushing off his shirt. "My apologies."
She smiled pleasantly. "Could you change into a black outfit? All black, if possible."
Max just stared at her. The request was delivered with zero shift in tone or apparent awareness of how utterly bizarre it sounded.
Ryuu remained completely silent, her expression unchanging, which somehow felt like the most alarming response possible.
"It's you," Ryuu finally said, looking at Max with the flat certainty of someone updating a record.
The blue-haired girl's eyes darted between them with open curiosity.
"Maximus, right?" Alise asked, her composure fully recovered as she dusted off her dress.
"Yeah. Good to see you again," Max said.
Something in her expression eased into pure relief. "I was worried about you. It's been two weeks with no sign. I'm glad you're well." She gave him a quick, honest look up and down. "You look stronger, too. Did you join a Familia?"
"I did," Max confirmed. "Just getting settled in."
"That's wonderful!" Alise beamed, her natural charisma instantly taking over. "You know, if you're looking for fieldwork, we could really use another capable set of hands. You should join our patrols against Evilus, it would be a great way to—"
"Wait, Alise."
The blue-haired girl raised a single finger. Her gesture was polite, but it was firm enough to make Alise pause mid-sentence.
The girl turned back to Max with an easy smile. "I'm Adi Varma, from Ganesha Familia. I apologize for the strange question, but I really do need to ask. Do you own a black outfit? And could you change into it tonight?"
Max's mind quietly processed the variables. A highly specific request about dark clothing. Sharing the same last name as the captain of the familia, so a prominent member of Ganesha Familia. The analytical way she had been assessing his build from the start. There was only one logical conclusion: they were investigating Chloe's assassination attempt on Shakti Varma. He had been waiting for the fallout to subside, didn't expect to be dragged into it
"I think there's a misunderstand—" Max started to say.
"Found you, bastard!"
The loud, excessively cheerful voice cut across the street. Max looked up to see a man jogging toward them. His eyes were fixed only on Max, and he wore the smug, utterly punchable expression of someone who had just won the lottery.
It was Hashana.
All the pieces instantly locked together in Max's head. Well, shit.
Hashana finally reached them, coming to a halt and pointing a dramatic finger directly at Max's chest. He barely acknowledged the two women. "Why are you still verifying, Adi? Just put him in handcuffs already!"
"I am still confirming, Hashana," Adi replied, her voice dropping to a cool, even timber, "because we do not pull citizens off the street without confirmation. It reflects poorly on Lord Ganesha."
Hashana scoffed and turned his condescending smirk on Max. "Hope you remember me, pretty face?"
"With pleasure," Max deadpanned.
Hashana didn't care. "Where were you yesterday evening?"
"I was with my deity," Max answered calmly. "Getting my status updated."
Hashana's smirk widened into a theatrical smile. He threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Oh, sure! Right. With your deity." He stepped closer, puffing his chest out. "Save the excuses for the interrogation room. You're a prime suspect in an assassination attempt, and you're coming with me to the compound right now."
"Hashana, stop!" Adi protested immediately, stepping forward.
"You can't do this," Alise argued, her voice overlapping with Adi's. "Dragging someone from a public street on unverified suspicion goes directly against Guild protocol!"
Hashana ignored them completely. He reached out and grabbed Max's upper arm, yanking hard to haul him away.
Max didn't budge an inch.
Scowling, Hashana grabbed his arm with both hands, planted his boots, and threw his full body weight backward. Max remained as unmoving as a stone wall.
The moment awkwardly stretched. Hashana's face turned red. His eyes dropped to his own straining hands, then slowly came back up to Max's completely unimpressed face. The bravado in Hashana's expression began to violently crack.
"What artefact are you using?!" Hashana demanded, his voice pitching high enough to draw stares from passing adventurers. "Stop resisting and answer me—"
The heavy wooden door to the Hostess swung open.
Mia stepped out into the street. She stood on the threshold, her massive frame casting a long shadow, and simply took in the scene. The growing crowd, at Hashana's white-knuckled grip, and finally at Max's bored expression.
"What," Mia said flatly, her voice rumbling like distant thunder, "is this circus?"
Hashana jumped, dropping Max's arm reflexively. "Mama Mia! Uh—this man is a suspect! We have an assassination investigation, and I need him for immediate questioning!"
Max adjusted his sleeve. "If you want to drag me in, let's stop by the Guild first," he said, his voice remaining unbothered. "My Familia submitted my formal Level Up notice covering that time window. My alibi is literally stamped in Guild ink."
Mia looked down at Hashana with narrowed, judgmental eyes. "Your captain should be patrolling around the city. I suggest you go confirm your little theory with her before you make a scene in front of my establishment and scare off my paying customers."
Hashana opened his mouth to argue, saw the vein throbbing in Mia's neck, and wisely snapped his mouth shut. "Fine! We'll go see the Captain!"
They walked to the guardpost near Babel.
Shakti was there, speaking quietly with the Babel guards. As they approached, Hashana marched right up to her, puffed out his chest, and breathlessly delivered his triumphant report about capturing the elusive suspect.
Shakti listened in total silence. When Hashana finished, she didn't look at Max. She just looked at her subordinate.
"What height did I mention, Hashana?" Shakti asked softly.
Hashana blinked. "Uh... roughly five foot? Maybe slightly taller?"
"And the racial traits?"
"Animal person. You said it was almost certainly a cat-type."
Shakti slowly turned her dark eyes to Max, who stood comfortably at six feet tall and notably lacked a tail, cat ears, or any feline features whatsoever. She held Max's gaze for a second before turning her attention back to Hashana.
"Hashana," Shakti said, her voice devoid of any warmth. "Report to the entry gate. You are on guard duty for the rest of the month."
Max watched Hashana trudge away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Shakti pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, heavy sigh. "My sincere apologies, Mister," she said, her tone softening from strict authority into complete exhaustion.
"You are free to go. It seems I am forever destined to deal with one moron or another."
"No harm done, Captain," Max replied smoothly with a respectful nod.
He decided not to feel smug about Hashana's humiliation. The man was simply too embarrassing to be around, and feeling smug implied he was actually worth the emotional energy and as he moved towards East Main Street Adi spoke up.
"I am so, so sorry," she groaned, turning to Max and burying her face in her hands. "That was not how this was supposed to go."
"Well, it definitely wasn't the best first impression," Max agreed. Despite his initial exasperation, he couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped him. The entire confrontation had been so chaotic and completely unnecessary that it had looped right back around to being funny.
Adi peeked through her fingers and winced sympathetically, which somehow made the situation even more absurd.
"You still haven't answered my question," Ryuu said from his left. She had smoothly fallen into step beside him as they walked away from the guardpost. "Which Familia did you join? And what Level are you now? You managed to destabilize Alise earlier, and she is not an easy person to throw off balance."
Alise didn't look offended by the observation. She just tilted her head, offering him a look of pure, undivided curiosity.
"Freya Familia," Max said simply. "And I just hit Level Three."
The effect was instantaneous. Alise tripped over her own boots, barely catching herself. Adi's jaw physically dropped. Even Ryuu's stoic composure cracked, her eyes widening in unexpected shock.
Level Three? Already? And Freya Familia?! Their reactions read which made Max smirk.
"Wait, wait, wait," Alise stammered, rushing forward to walk backward in front of him. "The Freya Familia? As in, the most violently exclusive Familia in the city? How did you even get in? What are their training methods actually like? Is it true they basically try to kill each other in the yard every morning?"
"Do they give you special gear?" Adi chimed in, practically vibrating with curiosity as she flanked his right side. "What's the structure like? Do you actually have to spar with the executives? I heard Vana Freya is terrifying!"
Max laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. As they resumed walking, he started fielding their questions one by one. He kept the sensitive operational details vague, but he gladly shared the broader strokes—the brutal, uncompromising nature of Folkvangr's Baptism, the strict hierarchy, and the surreal experience of standing in a room full of Orario's deadliest warriors.
"Alright, my turn," Max said, glancing at Alise. "What's the deal with Astraea Familia? I know it's exclusively female, but what are the actual requirements? Do you have to pass a rigorous test of justice, or do you just have to look exceptionally good in the uniform?"
Alise flushed slightly but puffed out her chest with pride. "Lady Astraea looks at the heart! We stand for justice and the protection of the weak. The uniform is just a highly coordinated bonus."
Max smirked and turned his attention to the blue-haired Ganesha member. "And while we're sharing secrets, Adi... is it true that the main entrance to your Familia's compound is carved directly between the legs of a giant statue of Lord Ganesha?"
Adi groaned, her shoulders slumping. "Please don't remind me. Yes. Yes, it is. Every single time I go home, I have to walk through my deity's crotch. It is a psychological burden I would not wish on my worst enemy."
Max and Alise burst out laughing, the sound echoing warmly through the quiet streets.
Once they passed the main plaza, the casual stroll seamlessly transitioned into an active patrol. The three women naturally fell into a tactical formation, with Alise taking point and guiding them through the side streets. Max slipped into the formation effortlessly, keeping pace with their seasoned rhythm without breaking a sweat, finding that he was actually enjoying the patrol.
Ten minutes later, the peaceful atmosphere shattered when a petty thief bolted out of an alleyway, clutching a stolen bag of goods.
The chase lasted less than thirty seconds.
Ryuu moved like a phantom, cutting off the man's escape route and sweeping his legs out from under him before he could even blink. The thief hit the cobblestones hard, groaning in pain as the stolen goods scattered.
It was in the immediate aftermath that Max truly saw the difference in their mentalities.
"We should turn him over to the Guild with a warning," Adi suggested softly, looking at the bruised man with a twinge of sympathy. "He looks malnourished. The slums have been hard lately. A few days in holding and some Guild-mandated labor might set him straight."
"He made a choice," Ryuu countered, her voice cold and completely devoid of empathy. She didn't even draw her weapon; she just looked down at him like he was an insect. "If we shatter his kneecaps, he will lose the physical capability to steal. The lesson will be permanent."
Adi blinked, horrified. "Ryuu! You can't just cripple people in the street!"
"It prevents recidivism," Ryuu stated flatly.
"Alright, both of you, dial it back," Alise interrupted, stepping between them to represent the middle ground. She grabbed the thief by the collar, hauling him halfway off the ground. She didn't break his legs, but her eyes flashed with an unquestionable authority that made the man tremble. In three short, razor-sharp sentences, she outlined exactly what would happen to him if Astraea Familia ever caught him victimizing the weak again, planting a strong fear of the gods into his soul before expertly binding his wrists for the Guild.
Watching the exchange, Max felt a deep sense of familiarity. It perfectly mirrored the escalating use-of-force continuums from his old world. He saw the extreme ends of the spectrum in Adi and Ryuu, and the desperately needed balance in Alise. It cemented his resolve; these girls were doing vital work, but they needed support.
Thinking of that support brought a quiet surge of satisfaction to his chest as he remembered his meeting with Rehmer earlier. He had already started putting the pieces in motion to back them up and reinforce the city's crumbling order. Yet, as he watched Alise efficiently dealing with the thief, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly. If only the Guild were half as efficient as they are, he thought. If the governing body actually did its job instead of drowning in bureaucracy, Orario wouldn't have to rely so heavily on the strained shoulders of a few dedicated people.
After that, they continued their patrol, eventually arriving at the towering, jagged entrance to Daedalus Street. The sprawling slum looked less like a neighborhood and more like a decaying, architectural cancer.
"I'm really glad you joined us tonight, Maximus," Alise admitted, staring into the dark, winding alleys of the slum. "We can't sustain regular patrols in this district. The streets are too labyrinthine. Even with the four of us, it isn't safe to go deep unless strictly necessary. It's far too easy to get separated and ambushed."
"Architecturally speaking, it's a nightmare," Adi chimed in, analyzing the mismatched rooftops. "There are blind corners every five feet. It's a haven for Evilus."
"Which is why we are incredibly grateful to your Familia right now," Alise said, offering Max a sincere smile. "Vana Freya has been actively hunting Evilus members who flee into these streets over the last fortnight. The cull has been brutal, but it's given the area a chance to breathe. I only wish we had that kind of support long-term."
Max nodded slowly in understanding. He stood in silence for a few minutes, his eyes tracking the shadows of Daedalus Street, mentally mapping the entry points before turning back around.
Even though they couldn't safely enter, Alise spent the next hour walking the perimeter, pointing out key landmarks.
"That cluster of red roofs near the eastern edge is Maria's Orphanage," Alise explained, pointing toward a slightly more stable section of the street. "It's one of the few places keeping the children out of Evilus's hands."
"And Mama Mia actually sends a cart of hot meals out there once a week," Adi added with a warm smile. "Though if you ever bring it up to her, she'll threaten to hit you with a frying pan and claim it's just 'leftover inventory'."
Max smiled, filing the information away.
Hours passed, the night deepening as they finally looped back toward the southern entrance of the city, bringing the towering gates of Folkvangr into view.
"This is my stop," Max said, turning to the trio. "It's late. Do you want to come in for a quick drink or a snack before you head back?"
Alise smiled brightly, shaking her head. "We appreciate the offer, Maximus, but we've got our rations to keep us going, and honestly, we aren't really that tired. Plus, we still have to deliver our report and finish our rotation."
Max offered a relieved smile. "I'm glad to hear that. If you were exhausted already, it would mean I made for a terrible companion."
Alise and Adi shared a quiet, warm laugh at the remark.
"You did just fine," Alise said, offering her hand and giving his a firm, hearty shake. "Thank you for joining us tonight. You're welcome on our patrol any time."
"It was truly nice meeting you, Max," Adi added cheerfully, giving him a small wave. "And if you ever do get that black outfit... let me know!"
Ryuu didn't say goodbye. She just stood at the edge of the light, her eyes observing him in calculating silence as the group finally turned to leave.
Max watched them disappear down the street before turning toward Folkvangr's massive gates.
He made his way up the halls to his suite, his mind buzzing with everything he had learned. The pieces of the city's political and physical geography were finally beginning to form a clear, actionable map in his head.
He opened his door and was immediately greeted by the sight of Kairu happily bouncing around the room. The blue slime was practically vibrating with an infectious, triumphant energy, having returned from his successful dive from the dungeon.
Max smiled at his familiar's joyful display and closed the door behind him. As he walked further in, his eyes were drawn to his desk.
Resting neatly on the wooden surface were two pieces of parchment.
One was the standard, familiar status sheet, possibly Kairu's updated status. The other, however, was incredibly opulent in its design. It was made of thick, high-quality vellum and carried an elegant, overwhelming presence that reminded Max strongly of the lavish atmosphere of Freya's private chambers.
Curious, Max walked over to the desk and picked both of them up to read.
--> Devil in a Dungeon <--
AN:
In the end, Freya's Will shall prevail. It looks like she was preparing for this moment for long as she got perfect answers for everything to shut the Executives, haha.
Coming to Max, things are moving forward and now we see Max involving himself with the 'main cast'. How was that scene? Was it good or did you feel it was a bit forced/rushed? I didn't want to drag it too much as we will have prolonged interactions later and this was supposed to give just how Max fits into their dynamics.
The next chapter will have a timeskip as we pick up pace and transition into the crucial elements of the Dark Age. Also do you think what would Max feel about Kairu being made an executive? Would he confront Freya or decides to ignore it entirely and does his work?? Let me know in a comment/review.
If you'd like to read 9 chapters ahead(around 45k words), support my work, or commission a story idea, visit my p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/b3smash
Please note that the chapters are early access only, they will be eventually released here as well.
Next update will be on Tuesday.
Ben, Out.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.