Rivira
Shakti
"I knew it!"
The shout broke her stunned silence. Alise jumped, exhaustion forgotten, and stared wide-eyed toward the left side of the floor where the sprawling structure of the newly built Freya Familia Outpost stood.
Shakti whipped her head around, her gaze snapping from the fortress in the distance to the beaming redhead. "You knew?" she demanded, her voice tight. "Alise... what exactly do you know about this?"
"Not everything," Alise replied carefully. The easy comfort between the two captains prompted her to lower her voice as she glanced at Ottar's back. The Warlord had already begun moving toward the outpost at a measured pace, content to let them follow. "But pieces of it. A few weeks ago, we came across a strange man near the entrance. He had just formed a party with a small Pallum girl. He introduced himself as Gojo."
Shakti didn't ask the obvious question. She arched a brow and let the silence do the heavy lifting.
"He asked us to help him test some magical artifacts," Alise continued, a sheepish look crossing her face. "During the descent, he tested several items. This was one of them."
She reached into her sleeve and held out a small ring.
Shakti took it without breaking stride. Her thumb traced the functional blue markings etched into the silver-grey metal. She closed her hand around the band and tightened her grip. The metal held against her baseline power. It only yielded when she pushed her output to the threshold of a Level 3, and even then all she got were hairline cracks spidering across the surface.
She handed it back. A ring that could shrug off the grip of a Level 3 wasn't a cheap magic trinket. It was a high-tier defensive armament.
"It projects a barrier using a fraction of your mind," Alise explained, tucking the ring away. "But that wasn't the impossible part. On our way back up, the Goliath spawned. When we moved to handle it, Gojo pulled out a bottle claiming it to be a recovery item. He shattered it on the ground. Mist erupted, blinding us. By the time it cleared, we weren't on the eighteenth floor. We were standing in a first-floor corridor."
"And the man?" Shakti asked, her expression composed even as her mind redrew the boundaries of what was magically possible.
"Ran straight back into the Dungeon yelling about a merchant's prank," Alise sighed. "We haven't seen him since."
Shakti let the silence stretch, her mind tearing apart the official narrative.
Translocation across eighteen floors was no longer a myth. The sterile scent of Babel's polished stone still clung to her uniform, clashing with the damp mineral air of the cavern. But if this Gojo possessed a working prototype weeks ago, the timeline didn't align with Royman's performance upstairs.
Why stage a spontaneous public demonstration if the higher-ups already knew the system was operational? Was Royman's sweaty eagerness a marketing gimmick meant to soften the shock of the new reality?
She shook her head. Untangling the political machinations of the Guild wasn't her duty today. Her mandate was more grounded: figure out how dangerous this new Freya base truly was.
Pulling her focus back to the tactical reality, she looked ahead at the outpost. But as they approached, the idiots in Rivira refused to be ignored.
"Hey Ankusha! Ankusha!! Captain Shakti!"
The hoarse shout drifted across the space. Shakti turned her head, her peripheral vision catching a cluster of haggard adventurers gathered near the outer limits of Rivira.
The lawless settlement was usually a cacophony of aggressive haggling and drunken disputes, but today it had fallen into a suffocated quiet. Seeing the golden elephant emblem of the Ganesha Familia on her uniform, the exhausted adventurers didn't sneer or spit as they usually did. A sigh of relief rippled through the crowd instead.
They must be terrified of this outpost, she mused, reading the way they begged her for a return to predictable, Guild-regulated order.
But Shakti's instincts weren't swayed by the pleas of the exhausted majority. Her eyes locked onto the margins.
Moving like roaches fleeing sudden light, a handful of cloaked figures detached themselves from the fringes of the crowd, slipping down the shadowed back alleys to avoid her line of sight. Blacklisted smugglers. Wanted murderers. The kind of criminals who treated the Middle Floors as a sanctuary.
A humorless thought settled into her mind. Not for long.
For years, Floor 18 had been a nightmare for her patrols. It was too deep to reach quickly and too entrenched to clear out. But if a functional teleportation gate connected Babel to a fortified staging ground down here, the Ganesha Familia could bypass the grueling descent entirely. They could drop armed strike teams onto Rivira's doorstep in a matter of seconds.
Drafting the patrol proposal for her Lord as she walked, Shakti left the town's squalor behind and stepped onto the hard-packed earth of the outpost perimeter.
Beyond the gates, the training grounds were active. A stocky dwarf in a battered chest plate oversaw a brutal spar. A scout brought him a quick word, and he gave a short nod and walked toward the entrance.
"Trent Gillthunder," he introduced himself, offering a measured incline of his head. "Commander of the outpost."
Ottar stepped forward and relayed the God's mandate, his size doing most of the talking. Trent listened, offered another curt nod, and raised his arm to gesture them inside.
It was a simple movement, but it locked Shakti's eyes onto his wrist.
He was wearing a bracelet. The silver-grey metal and intricate markings were identical in design to the ring Alise had just shown her.
Shakti narrowed her eyes. The resemblance was striking, but the design philosophy underneath mattered more, and it was identical. High-level blacksmiths stuck to their own patterns. Both pieces had come off the same unknown maker's bench.
If a ring could conjure a potent magical barrier, what could a heavier, more complex bracelet do?
The scope of this inspection had widened. The Freya Familia wasn't claiming territory. They were sitting on a mountain of artefacts that rewrote the rules.
For the first time since the fall of the Zeus and Hera Familias, a thrill of anticipation sparked in Shakti's chest. Eager to see what else the Goddess of Beauty was hiding, she stepped forward.
And the first thing that demanded her attention was the perimeter itself.
She slowed her pace, letting her gloved hand drag along the massive stone wall bordering the compound. The surface mimicked the rough cavern rock of the Dungeon, cool and slightly damp. But as she pressed her fingers against it, the similarities faded.
It lacked the brittle flake of natural stone. Beneath the cosmetic outer layer, Shakti felt the unyielding thrum of layered magical reinforcement.
She tapped the heavy butt of her spear against the base of the wall. The deadened thwack confirmed her suspicions. A Goliath could hammer this wall and it wouldn't so much as buckle. That put the rating somewhere past anything guarding the Middle Floors, closer to the foundations of Babel itself.
But moving this much reinforced stone down eighteen floors without a single supply caravan getting flagged wasn't possible through normal means. She looked from the bracelet on Trent's wrist to the wall, and the answer settled into place.
They hadn't used normal means at all. The shattered bottle Alise mentioned was a localized trigger. The actual teleportation grid must be massive, which meant the walls, the supplies, the personnel, all of it had come here through space, piece by piece, under the city's nose.
Trent led them inside, and Shakti stopped looking at buildings and started calculating siege logistics.
The layout told its own story. The buildings swept in a crescent against the far cavern wall, leaving the training ground exposed and open at the center. Anyone breaching the gates would have to cross five hundred meters of bare dirt with no cover, torn apart long before reaching the supplies or the barracks. Flawless defensive architecture.
The supply depot sat with its loading docks facing inward, toward the training ground. This wasn't an outpost relying on the town for support. It was a self-sufficient hub.
As they walked past a row of residential blocks, Shakti noticed the steady warmth radiating from the walls. Magic-stone heating elements. Doing the arithmetic in her head, she realized these barracks could house over a hundred personnel. If they were all Level 3 or higher, this wasn't an expedition camp. It was a standing garrison.
Finally, she spotted the executive residence near the lake. The clean strips of permanent magic-stone lighting confirmed her suspicions. Whoever designed this had built it assuming Freya herself would use it regularly for years to come.
Everything she observed fell into place against the purpose she had been sent here for. The urgent cautions from the deities came back to her. Standing here, she could see with cold clarity that their paranoia was justified. Goddess Freya hadn't only built a permanent, indestructible foothold. She had manned it with an overwhelming force.
From what Shakti had observed of the personnel during the tour, the entire garrison appeared to be composed exclusively of Level 3s. With that kind of baseline strength and drilled coordination, this fortress wouldn't just repel a wandering Goliath or an irregular. They possessed the combat density to crush the Amphisbaena, or to dismantle an Udaeus-level threat if one ever managed to surface this high in the Dungeon.
Satisfied with her assessment, she turned to Alise, and the younger captain nodded. She thanked Trent at the gate for his cooperation and wished him the best.
As they left the outpost's walls, she glanced at Ottar.
"Please wait here a moment," she said, and turned toward the crowd still watching from the town's edge.
-◈ -
Max
He appeared in a shadowed alley just outside Lili's home.
Alright, let's do this the civil way, he told himself, straightening his jacket. No spontaneous teleportation kidnappings this time.
Maintaining his Gojo persona, blindfold and casual swagger included, he strolled up to the residence just as the heavy wooden doors creaked open.
Lili stepped out, carrying a stack of parchments. She looked tired, but the heavy weight she always carried was absent. Her posture was straighter. And she was wearing the black jacket his clone had left with her, trimmed and tailored to fit her small frame, the oversized fabric hanging off her like a protective cloak.
"Yo!" Max called out, raising a hand with obnoxious enthusiasm. "Look at you, making my jacket look good!"
Lili froze. The parchments slipped from her fingers, scattering across the street. She stared at him for a long second, her eyes going wide.
And then she moved.
She launched herself and before Max could register the blur of motion, the little Pallum slammed into his midsection, wrapping her arms around his waist in a bone-crushing hug.
"Mister Gojo!" she wailed, burying her face into his coat. "You came back! I missed you! Thank you for coming back! Thank you so much!"
Tears soaked into his shirt. Max froze, his hands hovering in the air. Beneath the untouchable Gojo persona, the weight of the moment landed on him all at once.
This was his first time actually interacting with her, feeling the consequences of his actions. He hadn't handed over a few shiny items and walked off. By intervening, he had derailed her tragic fate, and the impact he'd made was weeping right in front of him, clinging to him like he was the center of her universe. Something warm and unfamiliar settled in his chest.
Damn. I actually did it. I saved her.
Softened by the thought, Max lowered his hands and patted her head, letting her cry it out. "There, there. I told you things would work out, didn't I?"
After a long minute, Lili managed to rein in her sobs. She stepped back, scrubbing her eyes with her sleeves, though a radiant smile split her young face.
"I have so much to tell you!" she beamed, practically vibrating with excitement. "After our dive into the Dungeon, I went to Lord Soma to get my status updated... and I leveled up!"
She bounced on her heels, joy radiating off her. "Lord Soma didn't explain exactly how it happened or what feat triggered it, but he said I leveled up! And when he updated my status, something big happened between him and the Captain and he threw out the bad people and made me the Vice-Captain of the Familia! We're finally restructuring everything and making real changes!"
Max smiled broadly, letting Gojo exude pride. "Ah, that's amazing, Lili! Vice-Captain? Level 2? I always knew you had it in you. Congratulations!"
Internally, a different reaction was taking place.
Wait. What?
Max's mental gears ground to a halt. She leveled up?! She's the Vice-Captain?! Since when?!
His external smile remained supportive, but inside, Max was seething. The target of his rage wasn't Lili. It was Gojo.
I am going to murder him, Max thought, his mental voice dropping into a deadly, echoing calm. If that smug bastard were standing in front of me right now, I would strangle him. How the hell is COMPLETELY ALTERING one of the main characters' trajectory and securing a massive Familia promotion not worth a status report?!
He had literally no idea any of this had happened. Gojo had just been wandering around Orario, changing the lore of the world, and apparently hadn't felt the need to mention any of it to the main body. He was going to have some very choice words with that jerk the next time they synced up.
As Lili finished her story, fresh tears began filling her eyes all over again, overwhelmed by her own miracle.
Max blanched. He had just managed to soothe her, and now the waterworks were back. What am I supposed to do now? Is this why Isekai MCs avoid having kids until after they defeat the final boss?! Dealing with this much concentrated emotional baggage is terrifying!
Pushing through his awkward panic, he reached down, wiped the fresh tears from her cheeks, and scooped the little Pallum up onto his shoulders.
Lili gasped in surprise, then rubbed her eyes dry as she looked out over her home from her new perch.
Max let a warm smile break through his persona. "Congratulations on your level-up, Lili. I always knew you would achieve great things, but I honestly didn't expect it to happen this fast."
Lili let out a watery chuckle.
"So," Max continued, his tone turning teasing. "Are you ready to arm-wrestle an Orc?"
Her laughter turned into a sputtering choke. She coughed, thumping the top of his head in protest as she tried to catch her breath. Max stood there and waited for her to calm down.
Once her coughing subsided, he tapped her knee. "Now that you're a big, tough Vice-Captain... are you interested in a fast-paced part-time job? I need someone I can trust."
Lili didn't hesitate. She nodded eagerly, her hands gripping his shoulders. She didn't ask about the pay or the hours, as if being her savior exempted Gojo from such trivialities.
"Great," Max grinned. "Don't scream."
Before Lili could ask what he meant, the quiet alleyway vanished around them.
VWOOM.
-◈ -
General Pov
They landed inside the chaotic storage room of PAL.
Without missing a beat, Max reached into a supply crate, pulled out a fresh employee uniform, and tossed it to the bewildered Pallum as he dropped her to the floor.
"You already know how the magic rings work from our dive," Max said, steering her toward the door leading to the sales floor. "Your job is simple. Stand at the end of the counter. The big sister next to you will hand you a parchment with a number on it. You hand the customer that exact number of rings. That's it. Got it?"
He flashed a sample order parchment in front of her face. Lili was still processing the instant teleportation and the volume of high-grade merchandise stacked around them, but she grasped the logistics and nodded, slipping the uniform over her jacket.
Max pushed open the doors to the warzone.
Rimuru was short, so the staff side of the counter already came lined with step-stools. Lili had no problem finding her spot and elevating herself to eye level with the massive adventurers crowding the lobby.
Seeing the reinforcements arrive, Rimuru took charge of the floor and rearranged the retail flow. Rehmer was stationed at the head of the line, verifying Falna statuses. Rimuru and Chloe commanded the middle, taking the initial orders and writing the quantities on the parchments. Lili anchored the end of the line, processing the slips and dispensing rings to the verified buyers with earnest efficiency.
Meanwhile Max, still as Gojo, headed into the secure side room. While his clone handled the sales floor, he would personally give the flashy demonstrations of the rings' power to large groups of skeptics at a time.
The door shut behind him, and it took the lobby about ninety seconds to test what that meant.
"Hey. Hey, cat girl." A human in scarred half-plate leaned over the counter, close enough that Chloe could smell the last three hours of him. "The white-haired guy gave us a private demo this morning. Took the ring off, put it on my hand, whole thing. So go get him, he does that again, and then I'll think about buying."
Behind him, four or five of his friends folded their arms and made agreeing noises.
Chloe's ears went flat. An hour ago she had been on the first vacation she'd taken in two years, horizontal and unreachable.
"Line's over there," she said. "Demos are on the hour, in the side room, in groups. You'll get your turn."
"I'm not standing in a line for a ring." He reached across the counter and took a handful of her uniform. "Go get him. Now."
Chloe was over the counter before the sound of his voice finished.
Nobody in the lobby saw the middle of it. There was a man standing at the counter, and then there was a man face-down on the floorboards with his cheek against the wood, one arm folded up behind his back at an angle it wasn't built for, and a cat person kneeling on his shoulder blades with her tail flicking once, slowly.
"New rules," Chloe announced to the room. "Since apparently we needed some."
One of his friends stepped forward with a hand going to his hilt. She didn't get off the first man. She swept the second one's leg out from under him, caught his wrist on the way down, and put him on the boards beside his friend without ever standing up.
The lobby went quiet.
"My boss is a nice man," Chloe said into the silence. "He's polite. He apologizes. He gives you your little private show and thanks you for your time." She leaned some weight forward and the first man made a noise. "He isn't out here right now, nya. I am. So we're doing this my way instead."
She got up, dusted her knees off, and pointed at the door.
"Line forms at the wall. Rehmer checks your status. You order in the middle, you collect at the end. Demos on the hour, in groups, no exceptions. And if you don't like the wait, you're welcome to take it up with me outside." She smiled with too many teeth in it. "Any questions?"
There were no questions.
The line reformed against the wall in about four seconds, several men in it standing straighter than they had all week. The two on the floor collected themselves and joined the back of it without being told.
Rimuru didn't look up from her slip. "Chloe. Don't damage the boards, they are specially polished for the store."
"Sorry boss, add it to my tab," Chloe said, sliding back onto her stool.
Lili stood frozen on her step-stool with a fistful of rings until a customer stepped up, held out his slip and said please with the sincerity of a man at a shrine. She counted four rings into his hand and moved him along.
Max came out between demo groups twenty minutes later and stopped in the doorway.
The lobby he'd left had been a slow-motion riot. This one ran like a bank. One line, wall to counter, no shoving, every man in it holding his slip like a ticket. Rehmer was ahead of schedule. Lili had found a rhythm and was working her end of the counter with her tongue between her teeth.
He got the rest of it out of Rimuru in six words and a gesture at two scuff marks on the floor.
Huh.
He'd been running crowd control himself using his (Gojo's) Aura, standing out here doing individual demos for anyone who stuck a chest out at him, burning time he could have spent in the secret office, chilling.
Why am I beating the idiots? Have strong employees. Let them beat the idiots.
He walked over and leaned on the counter next to Chloe. "Heard you renegotiated our customer service policy."
Chloe didn't look up from her slip. "They started it."
"Ten percent raise."
Her pen stopped. "What?"
"Ten percent, effective today, and I'll have Rimuru backdate it to the hour your vacation got cancelled." Max pushed off the counter, grinning under the blindfold. "You handled in one minute what I've been personally handling peacefully. I'm paying for that."
Chloe stared at him. Then her ears came up, her tail lifted off the stool, and she went back to her slip with the smuggest expression Max had ever seen on a face that small.
"I'm going to hurt so many more people," she said happily.
"Within reason."
"Nya."
Max headed back toward the side room and the next batch of skeptics. Behind him the line moved, and Lili's voice piped up somewhere in it, telling a Level 2 twice her height that demos were on the hour and he could take it up with the big sister if he had a problem.
Within minutes the five of them fell into a relentless rhythm, processing the crowd with mechanical speed. They needed every bit of it, because as word of the life-saving rings kept spreading through the streets of Orario, the evening rush only grew.
-◈ -
Allen
CRACK.
The reinforced stone dummy exploded into a dozen jagged fragments, but the destruction did nothing to soothe the burning in Allen's chest.
He spun his spear, his tail lashing behind him as he paced the empty executive training grounds. Over the past few weeks, he had managed to bleed off the worst of the rage he had built up toward Maximus for giving him the slip. He had spent his nights hunting down straggling Evilus bastards in the filthy alleys of Daedalus Street, using their blood to wash away his frustration. He had finally started to feel centered again.
And then came the war council and dungeon-conquering ceremony.
What was supposed to be a formal acknowledgment of a successful dive had devolved into a grand promotion event for that blue-haired bastard. Maximus wasn't just praised; he was elevated. That was irritating enough. But what set Allen's blood boiling, what made him want to burn the entire room to the ground, was the other promotion.
The slime.
A literal puddle of mindless monster ooze had been named an executive. It shared his rank. He, Vana Freya, the fastest adventurer in Orario, was now technically a peer of a gelatinous blob. The indignity of it burned like acid in his veins.
I am going to put that dumb monster through hell during this dive, Allen promised himself, his grip on his spear tightening until his hand ached.
Breathing heavily, he stopped his pacing and rested the shaft of his spear against his shoulder. His gaze drifted down to his wrist.
Resting against his dark sleeve was the communication bracelet. It was an artefact created by a monster, which made his skin crawl just looking at it. But it had been handed to him personally by his Goddess, transforming it into an object of reverence and disgust at once.
He glared at it, curiosity pulling against devotion. If he broke it, he would lose his direct link to his Goddess, a thought that made his chest tighten. But what good was a communication device if it shattered the moment a monster swung at him? He needed to know if the monster's toys were built for the realities of the Dungeon, or if they were flashy garbage.
She would want me to test it, he justified himself, though his fingers still hesitated on the clasp. Let's see how sturdy this really is.
Allen channeled a surge of magic into his arm, pulled his hand back, and hurled the bracelet at the adamantine-laced wall of the training room.
BOOM.
The impact cratered the stone, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Allen walked over, a knot of panic forming in his stomach, expecting to find a pile of shattered silver and cracked crystals. He was already drafting his apology to his Mistress in his head.
Instead, as the dust cleared, the bracelet sat intact in the center of the crater, gleaming up at him. Not a scratch.
A soft ping came off the metal.
"Allen?"
The voice that filtered through the bracelet came smooth and clear.
Allen froze, his breath hitching. The murderous anger that had consumed him for hours evaporated and left a tightness in his chest behind. It wasn't loyalty. It was devotion, fluttering in his stomach.
He scrambled into the crater to pick the bracelet up, brushing a speck of stone dust off it as if he had committed a mortal sin by throwing it in the first place.
"I am here, my Goddess," Allen replied, his voice dropping its harsh edge, reverent and attentive.
"The time for your departure is here. Come to my chambers."
"At once."
He secured the bracelet back onto his wrist, grabbed his gear with jerky movements to hide his lingering giddiness, and practically flew up the tower steps to the top floor.
As he walked into the velvet-draped room, a crimson magic circle flared to life on the floor. A moment later, the blue slime materialized out of thin air, bounced once, and settled onto the table as if it owned the place.
Allen narrowed his eyes, studying the phenomenon with guarded curiosity. If 'Mage' is the developmental ability required to pull off that teleportation trick, would I be able to do it if I unlocked the class? he wondered. His mind, always hungering for an edge, began calculating how he could combine instantaneous spatial jumps with his own supersonic speed to create a strike nobody could avoid.
His plotting died as his Goddess stepped into the room. Allen dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
Their Mistress didn't waste time, outlining their primary objective. The strike team was to push directly to the 39th floor to establish a permanent teleportation anchor. Once the anchor was placed, it would be up to them to decide whether to return to the surface or continue the descent.
"There is also a high probability that the Guild will call an emergency Denatus while you are in the Dungeon," his Lady elaborated, and the sound of her voice settled the last of the noise out of him. "If that happens, Ottar will be escorting me to the Pantheon and will be recalled for the duration of the meeting."
Allen's head snapped up.
If the Warlord was recalled, that meant he would be the one leading the executives. A vicious satisfaction surged through his chest. He cast a sidelong glance at the puddle of ooze jiggling on the table.
Oh, perfect, Allen thought, a cruel smirk touching his lips. Under my command, you aren't going to get a single second of rest, you worthless blob.
But as if hearing his exact thoughts, his Mistress shifted her gaze. Her eyes bypassed the rest of the room and pinned him to the floor.
"Allen," Freya warned softly. The tone was light, and the authority under it was absolute. "Do not underestimate Kairu."
Allen stiffened. His ears flattened against his skull, chastised, but he bowed his head deeper in submission. "I won't, my Goddess."
With the briefing concluded and the mandate set, they didn't delay. The executives stepped to the side of the room, gathering together as a massive magic circle flared to life beneath them. Unlike the crimson light the monster appeared in earlier, this one pulsed a deep, churning purple.
VWOOM.
In a single blink, the walls of Folkvangr vanished.
Allen opened his eyes, and his equilibrium rejected the shift.
Nausea washed over him, making the world spin in sickening circles. His feline balance, a biological gyroscope calibrated for acceleration and supersonic sprints, was in revolt. The instantaneous folding of space had bypassed physical momentum entirely, scrambling the fluid in his inner ears. It felt as though his body had been turned inside out and stitched back together upside down.
He swayed, his boot scraping against the dirt.
Pride kept him upright. Allen bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, using the sting to force his spinning vision to anchor on his surroundings. He refused to lose face in front of the other executives. Glancing sideways, he saw the Gullivers and Hogni looking perfectly fine, and even the ridiculous slime was just vibrating happily.
He forced a slow breath through his nose, blinking away the dizziness to take in the sprawling flower fields of the 28th Floor. They had bypassed the Upper and Middle floors entirely, dropping straight into the deeper expanse.
Ottar, built like a brick wall and unfazed by the miracle of instantaneous travel, didn't waste a second checking on his subordinates.
The Boaz hefted his massive greatsword and took point. Falling into their practiced formation without needing to speak a word, the Freya Familia elites plunged forward, leaving the flower fields behind as they made their way toward Floor 29 and the treacherous depths of the Jungle Ravine.
--> Devil in a Dungeon <--
AN:
What a chapter. Though nothing 'important' happened, we take one more step forward to the final moments to peace before chaos descends. Who thought Gojo, being the honored thought it was beneath him to share about a 'mere' level up, huh ;)
What's this disorientation business? Is Allen tripping??
Aside from that, we have a better idea of the Rivira Outpost layout and Freya Executives going on their own expedition without any notice to anyone as they can simply teleport back anyone who claimed they saw them and gaslight the hell out of them :).
Imagine Hedin/Allen/Ottar gaslighting Finn, Gareth and Riveria how they were delusional claiming to see them and all when they all are chilling in Rivira, haha.
The next chapter will be Max going on his dive to grind some much needed excelia and possibly face Amphisbaena ;)
Do share how you felt the chapter was. Was it good or did you feel it was a bit forced? Please share your feedback/suggestions on how to improve the story in a comment/review.
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Next update will be on Friday.
Ben, Out.
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