Max
They reached the threshold of Floor 15.
Max stopped. The air here was heavy—oppressively so. It pressed against the skin like a physical weight, carrying the heat of the lower depths.
Max turned to Hogni. "Hey. If something happens when I step onto this floor... don't panic. Okay?"
Hogni tilted his head, the "Hogni" persona surfacing in confusion. "W-What do you m—"
Max took the step.
The reaction was immediate.
An unreal, searing heat erupted where his Falna was located on his back, as if someone had pressed a white-hot brand directly against his spine. Wisps of golden-white smoke began to envelop him, spiraling upward from his shoulders like ghostly flames.
"AAAAAGH!"
Max screamed.
It wasn't a controlled grunt. It was a raw, visceral sound that tore from his lungs. The agony was orders of magnitude worse than before. It felt like his very soul was being rewritten, his bones vibrating with impossible pressure.
"MAX! MAXIMUS!!" Hogni lunged forward, his eyes wide with panic. What is happening?! Is it a curse?! An attack?!
But Max collapsed to his knees, his hands clawing at the stone floor. The golden-white smoke grew thicker, engulfing him fully.
Kairu let out a distressed squelch, reforming into armor to shield his master.
Hogni's hand hovered over Max's shoulder, trembling, unsure if touching him would help or make it worse. He reverted to his safe space, his voice trembling with chuuni gravitas to mask his terror.
"The... the Abyss... claims its due..."
And Max, through the blinding white pain of his Lux Tenebris, could only think one thing through the agony:
This is going to be worth it.
.
.
.
Max gasped, his eyes snapping open. The white agony didn't just vanish; it receded slowly, like a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving a dull, thrumming heat settled deep in his marrow.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the dungeon ceiling, just feeling.
It was over. And he was different.
He pushed himself up from the cold stone, his hands trembling—not from weakness, but from an overflow of energy. His limbs felt lighter, the gravity of the middle floors seemingly having less hold on him. The mana in his veins didn't just flow; it roared, amplified by whatever Lux Tenebris had just forced his body through.
"Okay," Max wheezed, wiping a sheen of cold sweat from his forehead. His voice sounded raspier than usual. "I'm good. I'm... good."
Ki~
Kairu let out a relieved jiggle, nuzzling frantically against Max's neck. The slime's core pulsed with a rapid, anxious rhythm, vibrating against Max's collarbone. He remembered the last time his master had screamed like that.
"I know, buddy. It wasn't like last time," Max murmured, reaching up to stroke the slime's smooth surface. "Just growing pains. Really, really intense growing pains."
He took a deep breath, centering himself, and turned to check on his companion.
Hogni was frozen mid-reach. His hand was still hovering over Max's shoulder, fingers twitching as if he wasn't sure whether to check on him or call for help. His expression was a masterpiece of cognitive dissonance—flabbergasted, horrified, and intensely curious all at once. He looked like a penguin encountering a chicken for the first time: kindred spirits in flightlessness, perhaps, but deeply suspicious of the other's anatomy.
Max waved a hand in front of the elf's face. "Hello? Hogni? You in there?"
Hogni blinked, the shock breaking. He jerked his hand back as if burned, clutching his cloak around him defensively.
"The... the turbulence has subsided?" Hogni whispered, his voice small.
Max grinned, a little shakily. "Yeah. Turbulence over. We're clear for takeoff." He stood up, stretching his spine until it cracked satisfyingly. "Ready to move?"
Hogni nodded silently, though his eyes lingered on Max with a new, profound wariness. What kind of creature screams like a dying star and then just... stands up?
But he wasn't given much to ponder as they stepped onto Floor 15 proper.
The architecture changed again. The claustrophobic, winding tunnels were gone. In their place was a strange, cavernous expanse that felt less like a cave and more like a subterranean forest petrified in time. Pillars of rock twisted toward the ceiling like ancient, gnarled trees, and the air was thick with a brown, earthy mist that obscured the ceiling.
The silence was heavy. Max could practically hear Hogni's brain whirring, trying to categorize what he had just witnessed. The Dark Elf looked like he was about to retreat into his shell permanently if left alone with his thoughts.
I need to snap him out of it, Max thought. Distraction tactics.
"Hey, Hogni," Max called out, keeping his tone light and conversational.
Hogni flinched, his head snapping toward Max. "Y-Yes?"
"Were you married before you joined the Familia?"
Hogni stopped dead. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. The question hit him like a physical slap, completely derailing his train of thought regarding Max's horrifying scream.
"Wh-what?" Hogni sputtered, his deep 'Dark King' voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. "Married? M-Me?"
His face flushed a dark, violet hue under the dungeon light. He stammered, his hands fluttering uselessly around his cloak.
"I wasn't... there was no... My heart belongs only to Lady Freya!" He blurted out, finding his footing in the familiar territory of worship. "She is the moon that guides the tides of my soul! There is no room for... for mundane attachments!"
His voice started shaky but grew in conviction as he spoke of Freya, the fanaticism acting as a shield against the awkwardness of the personal question.
Max nodded, hiding a smirk. Figures.
He knew this would be the standard answer from almost anyone in the Familia, with the possible exceptions of Ottar and Allen. He didn't hold their worship against them. Freya had saved most of them from despair or death when they were at their lowest. Not everyone had the insane luck of being isekai'd into a high-spec Devil body with a cheat sheet for the universe. If he hadn't had that advantage, he might have been just as desperate for a savior.
I wasn't trying to poke holes in his worship, Max thought. I was just curious about the lore.
Every fantasy world had its own flavor of "Elf rules." Some were tree-hugging pacifists, others were racist isolationists, and some had weirdly specific marriage customs involving soul-bonds or centuries of courtship and then there was Frieren...
He shook the thought away.
"Just curious," Max shrugged, walking past a massive stone pillar.
Hogni stared at his back, still recovering from the whiplash. He asks about marriage minutes after almost dying? Who does that?
But before Hogni could spiral further into confusion, the Dungeon interrupted.
A massive shadow detached itself from the rock pillars.
It stood eight feet tall, a bipedal nightmare of muscle and fur with the head of a bull. A Minotaur. It breathed heavily, steam curling from its nostrils, its eyes burning red with aggression as it hefted a log-sized club of petrified wood.
The conversation died instantly.
"Kairu," Max murmured. "Blade."
He didn't reach for the steel rapier at his hip. Instead, he held out his hand. Kairu, perched on his shoulder, vibrated once and extruded a portion of his mass. He solidified it instantly, separating it from his main body and depositing the weapon into Max's grip.
It wasn't the crude, water-like construct he'd used on the upper floors. This was a masterpiece of biological synthesis. The body of the blade was a dense, matte grey while the edge was a razor-thin line of glowing blue slime, humming with magical potential.
Max tested the weight. Solid. The quality and durability had taken a massive leap. The grey material felt harder than steel, and the blue edge promised an uncanny sharpness.
"Let's test the edge," Max whispered.
Shunshin.
He vanished.
Seeing the intruder charge, the Minotaur didn't hesitate. It roared, swinging the massive tree-trunk club in a horizontal sweep meant to pulverize anything within twenty feet.
Too slow.
Max didn't retreat; he jumped into the arc, slipping over the swing with millimeters to spare. As the massive wooden weapon passed beneath him, gravity took hold.
He didn't land on the ground. He landed lightly on the Minotaur's hands, right where it gripped the club.
The beast's eyes widened in confusion, staring at the violet-clad figure suddenly perched on its own wrists.
Max didn't give it time to process. He drove the Kairu-made blade downward in a brutal vertical arc.
Squelch.
The grey blade sank inches deep into the thick muscle of the Minotaur's shoulder, cleaving through hide and sinew with terrifying ease. The bull reared back, opening its mouth to scream in agony, but the pain was just the setup.
Max channeled his mana into the hilt.
Twist.
The blue edge of the sword pulsed with light. Responding to Max's will and magic, the blade didn't just cut; it shifted. The rigid grey structure warped, turning the vertical stab into a horizontal guillotine inside the wound.
SNICK.
The scream died in the Minotaur's throat as its head was separated from its body in one clean, wet scoop.
Max leaped backward, flipping through the air to land gracefully beside Hogni just as the massive headless body collapsed and hit the ground.
Max flicked the blade, clearing off the residue, and glanced at the Dark Elf.
Hogni was staring at the Minotaur, then at the strange, bi-colored sword in Max's hand, his expression one of utter perplexity. The sheer power—the ability to decapitate a Minotaur with a single strike—seemed to short-circuit his assessment of "Level 1."
Max looked at the headless Minotaur, then at Hogni's expression, then back at the Minotaur. He decided not to say anything. Some things were better left to process naturally.
Max waited a few minutes for Hogni to come out of his stupor, when it became clear Hogni wasn't coming back on his own, he nudged him.
"Are we moving?" Max asked.
Hogni blinked, shaking himself. "Y-Yes. We move."
They continued their advance through Floor 15. The dungeon threw everything it had at them—herds of Minotaurs, prides of Ligerfangs, packs of Hellhounds—but it felt less like a challenge and more like a harvest. Max cut through them like a hot knife through butter, his movements growing sharper, more efficient with every kill.
As the corpses were absorbed from another skirmish, Max wiped his blade and glanced at the elf walking silently beside him. The air between them had settled, but Hogni still looked like he was vibrating with unasked questions.
Seeing there was no challenge with the monsters, Max decided to pick the conversation back up.
"Do you want to know anything about me, Hogni?"
Hogni, who had been watching Max slaughter a trio of Ligerfangs with professional interest, looked up quizzically at the sudden offer.
"I mean," Max continued, sheathing the Kairu-blade as the slime reformed on his shoulder. "I've been bugging you about the familia, your dungeon dives, your history, even your romantic life. It's only fair you get to know more about me, right?"
Hogni went still. A storm of emotions played across his face—surprise, suspicion, and then... uncertainty.
Reciprocity wasn't common in Folkvangr. The members lived in silos of strength, colliding only when the Goddess demanded it. Sharing personal history? Offering information without a price?
It's strange, Hogni thought, looking at the boy who smiled at him with open, amethyst eyes. He offers pieces of himself freely. Why?
"I..." Hogni hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of his cloak. "Why would you...?"
"Because we're a team right now," Max said simply. "And I trust you."
The words hit Hogni harder than any Minotaur club. Trust.
He looked at Max, searching for deception, for mockery. He found none. Just an open invitation.
-◈ -
Hogni
His mind was a whirlpool of questions, swirling around the enigma walking beside him.
He had a thousand things he could ask. What is your relationship with the Mistress? It was the question burning through the entire Familia—why this boy, why now, why so much favor? Or he could ask about the magic again—the strange, chantless invocations that defied the laws of Arcanum. Where are you from? Who taught you to wield the elements like paint? How did you disappear from your resting spot between Floors 12 and 13 suddenly?
But as they moved through the caves of Floor 15, one question burned hotter than the rest, consuming the others.
Why do I feel this?
Hogni looked at Max's back. He felt a strange, vibrating sense of familiarity. It wasn't the camaraderie of soldiers, nor the respect of peers. It was deeper. Visceral. Like a resonance in his blood.
He was certain the boy wasn't a Dark Elf. He lacked the ears, the skin tone, the subtle physiological traits that bred true no matter how thin the bloodline became. Yet, the aura clinging to Max—that heavy, suffocating shroud of power—felt like home. It felt like the Abyss that Hogni had spent his life staring into.
He feels like kin, Hogni thought, baffled. Like a brother separated by a void.
His curiosity finally overpowered his anxiety and jealousy. The desire to know why the Abyss waved back from this boy's eyes was too strong to ignore.
Hogni cleared his throat.
"What..." Hogni began, his voice surprisingly steady, "What are you, exactly?"
Max stopped walking. He didn't turn around immediately.
Panic seized Hogni's throat the moment the words left his mouth. Too direct. Too intrusive. I sounded like an interrogator.
The "Dark King" persona crumbled instantly. Hogni's shoulders hunched, his voice dropping to a frantic, stuttering mumble.
"T-There is no need to answer if you don't feel like it! You can... you can ignore this dumb dark elf. It was a foolish inquiry. I stepped out of line. I—"
-◈ -
Max
He blinked, genuinely surprised.
He turned slowly to face the elf. Of all the things Hogni could have asked, this wasn't on his bingo card. He had expected questions about his magic. He had braced himself for the inevitable 'Are you sleeping with the Goddess?' interrogation. He had even prepared a speech about his rapid growth to explain how a Level 1 reached the Middle Floors in under a day.
But this?
What are you?
Max looked at Hogni. The elf was spiraling, muttering apologies to the floor, clearly terrified he had offended him.
He looked past the jealousy, Max realized, genuinely impressed. He looked past the animosity and the flashy magic. He sensed the nature.
Hogni's instincts were terrifyingly sharp. He had felt the Devil inside the human suit.
"I-I didn't mean to be offensive," Hogni stammered, wringing his hands in his cloak. "Or... or be racist. It's just... this odd sense of familiarity I feel from you. As if you were one of my kin. Yet you evidently are not. That's why I asked..."
But before Max could answer, the dungeon intervened.
A low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows.
Crack.
Many sleek, striped shapes detached from the darkness. Ligerfangs. Not a small pack—a horde. At least ten of them, teeth bared, circling with the coordinated hunger of pack hunters.
"Hold the question," Max said calmly. "Kairu. Dual mode."
The slime on his shoulder split. Kairu flowed down both of Max's arms, forming another rapier.
The Ligerfangs charged.
Max moved.
It was a good distraction. It gave him time to think. As he whirled through the pack, he let his body run on autopilot while his mind worked on the answer.
Slash. A Ligerfang lost its head. Spin. Another lost its legs.
How much do I tell him? Max wondered, ducking under a razor-sharp claw. I can't say 'I'm a Devil from another world'—'Devil' has a strictly evil connotation here. But I don't want to lie completely. He sensed the kinship. If I deny it, I lose the trust I just built.
Another Ligerfang leaped at his back. Max didn't turn; he reversed his grip on the left blade and stabbed backward, impaling the beast mid-air.
He fought with rhythmic, hypnotic grace, Shunshin carrying him between targets as the twin blades flashed like blue lightning. He took his time, dismantling the pack systematically, letting the adrenaline clarify his thoughts.
By the time the last Ligerfang fell, Max had his answer.
He let go of the blades and turned back to Hogni. The Dark Elf hadn't moved; he had simply watched, his eyes tracking the slaughter with quiet understanding.
"You asked a difficult question to answer, my friend," Max said, his voice solemn. He walked over, wiping a speck of dust from his sleeve. "There is no easy way to explain it. My species is not native to this land. As far as I know... I am the only one of my kind here."
Hogni's eyes widened slightly. The last of his kind?
"As for why you feel familiarity," Max continued, stepping closer, "that might be because of the 'dark' nature we both share."
Hogni squinted in confusion. "Dark... nature?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Max said, leaning against a stone wall. "But your race... you were once Light Elves, were you not? High Elves who lived closer to the dungeon than anyone else."
He tapped into the lore banks of his memory.
"One legend says that during the Ancient Times, when the Three Great Calamities broke free... the miasma released by them didn't just kill. It corrupted. The elves that lived close to Orario and other areas where they travelled, were polluted by air... and changed. They were stained by the miasma, adapted to it and became Dark Elves."
Max looked at Hogni, his expression empathetic. "You carry the touch of the deep in your blood. It's what makes you strong. It's what makes you different."
He tapped his own chest.
"I carry a similar touch. My power... my origin... it comes from the dark too. Not the evil kind. The primal kind. The Abyss recognizes us both because we both have a piece of it inside us."
Hogni stood frozen. He looked down at his own dark hands—the skin that had marked him different and led to many wars during his time as King.
He remembered the stories of his ancestors. The blood. The rejection by their fair cousins. The struggle to survive in lands poisoned by the breath of monsters.
He nodded slowly, a heavy, melancholic silence settling over him.
"Yes," Hogni whispered, his voice thick with history. "That is... close to the truth. Though it was far more bloody than the legends say."
Max gave him a moment, watching the weight of it settle. Then he continued softly.
"Similar to that... my kind was changed due to our ancestors' defiance. A rebellion against the original order. We were cast out, altered by the world we were forced into." He offered a small, apologetic smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "As for the name... it doesn't translate well into the Common Tongue. The direct translation carries connotations of evil that don't reflect who we are now. Hence why I didn't share my race exactly."
Hogni watched him, the eyes behind the silver hair filled with solemn understanding. He didn't press for the name. He didn't ask for details.
To a Dark Elf, whose entire history was defined by being misunderstood and feared by fair-skinned kin, the explanation was more than enough.
He bears the weight of a legacy he did not choose, Hogni thought, a dark kinship settling deep in his chest. Just as I bear the weight of the miasma. We are outcasts together.
He nodded silently, accepting the explanation without judgment.
They moved deeper.
-◈ -
The next few hours passed in a rhythmic cycle of violence. Floor 16 was unrelenting—Hellhounds breathing gouts of fire from side tunnels, mixed herds of Minotaurs and Ligerfangs prowling the corridors.
Max wasn't pressed. He moved with the fluid efficiency of a machine, his PoD-coated rapier carving through carapace and bone alike. The only interruptions to their march came when the Dungeon spawned massive hordes simultaneously, trying to overwhelm with sheer biomass.
Occasionally, sensing the overwhelming presence of a predator they couldn't beat, a few Ligerfangs or Minotaurs would break formation and bolt, fleeing toward the stairs leading back up.
"Not happening," Max growled. "You don't get to stomp on the rookies upstairs."
He would break formation instantly, Shunshin carrying him after the stragglers. He hunted them with ruthless prejudice, ensuring nothing escaped the floor alive, while Kairu efficiently swept up the resulting corpses. It cost them time, but Max refused to leave loose ends.
By the time they cleared the path to the Floor 17 staircase, the silence between them had grown comfortable. Companionable even.
Max broke it as they approached the descent.
"Hey, Hogni."
"Huh? W-What?" Hogni jolted, hand twitching toward his sword hilt. He had been somewhere far away—somewhere between memory and something he couldn't name yet.
"Do you think a Goliath has spawned already?"
Hogni blinked, returning to the present. He shook his head. "Negative. The Loki Familia went on an expedition only a few days ago. They killed the Monster Rex on their way down. Goliath takes roughly two weeks to be reborn. We have at least another week before the wall births a new giant."
"Shame," Max mused. "Wanted to see it."
"Be careful what you wish for," Hogni muttered, though there was no heat in it.
They stepped onto Floor 17.
The architecture shifted completely.
The winding corridors and cave labyrinth of the middle floors fell away, replaced by a vast, hollowed expanse that felt less like a dungeon and more like the ribcage of something impossibly ancient. The ceiling was lost to darkness above; the floor below was uneven, fractured bedrock carved by forces that had nothing to do with natural erosion.
The light here was different—dimmer, grayer, the familiar blue-green phosphorescence of the upper floors replaced by a faint, cold luminescence that seemed to emanate from the stone itself rather than any moss or fungus. It cast everything in shades of ash and shadow.
Strange vertical shafts punched through both floor and ceiling at irregular intervals—dark holes leading deeper into the dungeon below or up toward floors they'd already cleared. The air was thick with moisture, clinging to the skin like cold sweat, and carried a low, subsonic pressure that Max felt in his back teeth.
It was quieter here. Not the quiet of an empty space—the quiet of something holding its breath.
"The air changed," Max observed.
"We are close to the safe zone," Hogni said quietly, his eyes scanning the darkness. "Floor 18 is ahead. The dungeon... shifts near Rivira. As if it knows the boundaries of what adventurers have claimed."
They moved carefully. The monsters here hit harder—Hellhounds with coats like living embers, Ligerfangs that coordinated their flanks with unnerving intelligence. Max fought with more economy now, conserving output, letting Kairu's restraint work do the setup while the rapier finished cleanly.
Even with his Devil physiology, a dull ache had settled into his limbs and behind his eyes. Not exhaustion—something subtler. The cumulative weight of eighteen-plus hours of near-constant combat pressing on the edge of even his endurance.
Still worth it, he thought.
They were halfway across the floor when they entered the final chamber.
It was vast, cathedral-silent. The floor was clear of monsters. The walls curved upward and inward like the inside of a great shell. And there, dominating the far end of the room, was the Wall.
The Wall of Grief.
It was a sheer face of pale white rock—not stone, not crystal, something between the two—rising from floor to ceiling in an unbroken, featureless expanse. Enormous. Wrong, in the way that only things born from the dungeon's deep logic could be wrong. It didn't belong to the architecture around it. It had simply been placed.
Even empty, it radiated a pressure that was different from the rest of the floor. Not malice. Not intent.
Potential. Like a held breath. Like something sleeping just behind the surface, patient and vast.
Max looked at it, genuinely curious. "That's where the Goliath comes from?"
"Yes." Hogni stepped forward, arms crossed, his eyes moving across the pale expanse with the practiced assessment of someone cataloguing a known threat. His voice shifted into the tone of a senior explaining a lesson—steady, precise, carrying the weight of personal experience. "The wall doesn't open dramatically. It cracks. A single fissure from floor to ceiling. Then it widens, and the Goliath walks through like it is simply... arriving."
He turned slightly toward Max.
"It is classified as a Level 4 Monster Rex. The threshold between the middle floors and the safe zone isn't an accident—the dungeon places it here deliberately. A piece of hell guarding the entrance to heaven." His gaze returned to the Wall. "Most parties heading to Rivira for the first time encounter it without warning. Many don't make it past."
Max studied the pale rock, trying to imagine it splitting open. "Have you ever fought one solo?"
Hogni was quiet for a beat.
Then he nodded. Once. Slowly.
"During our early days." His voice was matter-of-fact, but something underneath it carried weight—the kind of weight that only came from memories that left marks. "When Hedin and I were still climbing. We would take turns clearing it so the other could push deeper without losing time. Efficient. Brutal. Necessary." A faint pause. "I faced it alone for the first time at Level 2. That fight was how I reached Level 3."
Max looked at him.
Not with the polite interest he'd been maintaining all day—with genuine, unguarded admiration. A Level 2 fighting a Level 4 Monster Rex solo. No support. No safety net. Just the cursed blade and whatever Hogni had been at the beginning of his climb.
"That's insane," Max said quietly. Not a joke. Not a deflection. Just the honest reaction.
Hogni blinked, visibly caught off guard by the directness of it. He looked away quickly, but not before Max caught the faint flush crossing his dark cheeks.
"It was... necessary," Hogni repeated, quieter this time.
Max let it sit for a moment, then turned back toward the Wall. His curiosity, now fully unlocked, pushed forward naturally.
"What about deeper? The other Monster Rexes—what are we looking at past Floor 18?"
Hogni's expression shifted. The embarrassment faded, replaced by something more serious—the look of a veteran reviewing a map of known dangers.
"Floor 27," he began, moving alongside Max as they slowly circled the edge of the chamber. "Amphisbaena. A two-headed serpent. It is classified as Level 5—faster than it has any right to be for its size, and its regeneration makes drawn-out fights extremely costly. You cannot simply outlast it. You have to overwhelm it before it adapts."
Max filed that away.
"Floor 37. Udaeus." Hogni's voice dropped slightly. "A skeletal armored giant. Level 6. It wields a greatsword that can cleave through stone formations in a single swing. Its armor absorbs magic almost entirely—spells are largely useless against it. You fight it with steel and strength, nothing else."
Max felt the number land. Level 6.
"And the deepest one we know of," Hogni continued, "Floor 49. Balor." He said the name the way people said the names of things they respected deeply and feared slightly. "Level 7. A cyclopean titan of fire and devastation. In our Familia's entire history, only Ottar has faced it and walked away without significant injury."
Silence stretched between them.
Max's gaze had gone distant—not vacant, but calculating. The kind of look that happened when someone was measuring a mountain against themselves and quietly deciding they'd climb it anyway.
Hogni caught the expression. He recognized it immediately because he had worn it himself, years ago, standing in front of his first Goliath.
"Maximus."
Max looked at him.
"I have explained these monsters," Hogni said carefully, his voice losing its lecture cadence and becoming something more direct, "because knowledge is the difference between a brave death and a calculated victory. Not because I expect you to charge at them tomorrow."
He met Max's eyes steadily.
"These creatures—all of them—have one consistent behavior when sufficiently damaged or cornered. They surge. Their strength, speed, and aggression spike beyond their base classification. An enraged Goliath fights like a Level 5. An enraged Udaeus fights like something that shouldn't be alive." He paused. "When you face them—and I have no doubt you will, eventually—make sure whoever stands beside you is stronger than the monster in front of you. Not equal. Stronger."
It wasn't a request. It wasn't quite an order. It was the careful, specific warning of someone who had learned the lesson through blood rather than theory—and was offering it freely so Max didn't have to.
Max held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. Genuinely.
"Understood."
Hogni held the eye contact one moment longer, then gave a single satisfied nod and looked away.
They crossed the chamber in silence, stepping past the Wall and through the final corridor. The air shifted almost immediately—warmer, somehow. Less hostile. The oppressive subsonic pressure that had been sitting behind Max's back teeth since Floor 15 began to ease.
The stairs to Floor 18 descended ahead of them.
Max could already see the glow rising from below. Warm. Golden. Wrong in the best way—completely incongruous with everything they'd walked through to get here.
"Hey, Hogni," he said as they began the descent.
"Yes?"
"When we get to Rivira—" Max paused, genuinely wondering. "Do they have good food down there?"
Hogni stared at him.
"You have just crossed seventeen floors in under a day," Hogni said slowly. "Survived a Level 5 assassin. Endured whatever Abyss-ritual your body performed on Floor 15. Explained your entire lineage to a near-stranger. Received a complete briefing on four Monster Rexes." A measured pause. "And your first thought upon reaching the safe zone is... food?"
Max shrugged. "I'm hungry."
Hogni was quiet for a moment.
Then, barely audible, almost swallowed by the sound of their boots on the stone stairs:
"...They have decent stew."
Max grinned. "Good enough."
Ki~
Kairu bounced once on his shoulder, deeply pleased with this development.
And the odd trio descended toward the light of Floor 18.
--> Devil in a Dungeon <--
AN:
Well, well, well, we finally reach Rivira and looks like Max and Hogni has developed a good bond. I had enough of the combat and I felt you would get bored seeing Max easily handling the monster hordes and so I decided to develop the relationship between Hogni and Max more. Though what do you think Lux Tenebris did on Floor 15? I'm all ears for your thoughts as it will take a few chaps to get revealed, hehe.
Next chapter will most likely be the end of the dungeon dive, though it might not be how you expect it. ;)
As always, don't forget to share your thoughts on the story and any suggestions you have on what else Max could try and if you want Max to encounter any another light familia in the dungeon? Let me know in a review/comment.
If you'd like to read 6 chapters ahead, support my work, or commission a story idea, visit 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.
or
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Next update will be on Tuesday.
Ben, Out.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.