Valletta
She knew the plan was doomed the moment the first scouting reports returned empty.
Perched on the shadowed roof of a commercial spire, Valletta stared down at the sprawling compound of Twilight Manor. From this vantage point, the Loki Familia headquarters looked less like a fortress and more like an oversized birdcage. Creeping toward the perimeter was a strike force composed of Rudra Familia grunts and Apate's finest, with the Dis sisters—Dina and Vena—leading the pack.
The night chill bit at her neck. She pulled the collar of her cloak higher as a slow sneer curled her lips.
The only reason she wasn't down there wading through blood and brick was the Braver's absence. Finn Deimne wasn't home, and if her nemesis wasn't on the board, there was no game worth playing. Why waste her genius butchering low-level trash when the only mind worth breaking was currently navigating the Dungeon?
Setting her personal obsessions aside, any strategist with half a working brain could see this assault was a catastrophic mistake.
What kind of moron attacks the Loki stronghold without a fallback contingency? Her fingers tapped an irritable rhythm against her sword hilt as she watched the vanguard advance.
Evilus treated this like a simple raid, ignoring the volatile ecosystem of Orario. If the light-dwelling suckers lacked a plan for a direct siege, what about the unaccounted variables? What if Freya intervened? It sounded absurd—the Bitch Goddess aiding her greatest rival—but Valletta knew deities were petty and unpredictable creatures.
If Freya sent her pets to the rescue just to spite the faction, these headless chickens had no escape route. Dina and Vena were Level 5s, strong enough on paper, but against the Warlord or that ungodly fast cat? The sisters would be ash before drawing breath.
She had explicitly demanded the coalition wait for Erebus to return and bring their Aces to the city. Unsurprisingly, no one in this pathetic alliance possessed a shred of tactical patience. Even Thanatos, her own infuriating God, had chosen silence, sitting in his chair with that cryptic smile while Apate and Rudra rushed toward their funerals.
"What morons," she muttered right to his face earlier—a blatant rudeness only she could afford. If it wasn't for her pulling the strings in the shadows, Evilus would have been completely eradicated three years ago. She was the singular mind holding this faction together, and their quiet betrayal of logic irked her to the bone.
The idiocy bled all the way down into the Dungeon as well. Sending Basram to the middle floors with four Spirit Soldiers to ambush the Loki vanguard was a blind gamble built on outdated intelligence. What terrified her far more than she would ever admit was the silence surrounding the expedition's actual whereabouts. Finn had been off the radar too long. She suspected either the Loki elites hit a disaster deep below Floor 39 and died, or the Braver had found a way to slip past their spy network altogether.
Tracking them had grown infinitely harder thanks to yesterday's disaster. An impending migraine coiled behind Valletta's eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Vito—the only subordinate showing an ounce of competence lately—had delivered the scouting report himself: Freya claimed Rivira, entrenching herself with a massive force of Level 3s.
That maneuver severed their safest supply line. For years, the Knossos doors hidden on Floor 18 allowed them to bypass surveillance and fast-track combat power. Now, the risk of exposure by Freya's patrols was simply too high.
Moving forces required them to use the unstable and dangerous entrance on Floor 24 instead. Her jaw tightened at the setback.
If that mad architect Daedalus had just lived long enough to finish the blueprints for the deeper floors, these logistical struggles would vanish. We wouldn't be scrounging through monster-infested tunnels like rats.
A loud bang from the streets below snapped her attention back to the present.
The assault had officially begun. Before the Dis sisters even breached the outer perimeter, Valletta raised a hand, her lips moving in a silent command.
"Shaldo."
Instantly, intricate, reddish-purple patterns bloomed into the night sky, cascading over the entirety of Twilight Manor in an ethereal web. It was her signature barrier magic, a sweeping curse designed to aggressively lower the Status of anyone caught within its borders. With a precise flick of her will, she manipulated the spell, specifically exempting the assault party from its oppressive weight. Knowing there were no high-level opponents left in the stronghold to offer a genuine threat, blanketing the whole mansion was an unopposed tactical play.
If not for Erebus, she thought, watching the purple hue settle over the defenders, I would have just sat back and let this entire group meet its miserable end right here.
They deserved to be slaughtered for disregarding her strategy. But Erebus had a grand vision, and she supposed she needed to throw these headless chickens a bone to keep his pieces on the board.
Down below, the Dis sisters breached the outer perimeter. True to form, she watched them skip tactical insertion entirely in favor of sadism, tearing through the sentries with lingering efficiency and leaving a trail of mangled bodies for the grunts.
Typical, she thought. All bloodlust, no brain.
Still, she had to admit they owed Freya a debt for the opportunity. Without the mayhem the Rivira base takeover caused, they never would have had the freedom to march an army through the city streets. The Guild, the deities, the merchants—everyone was distracted by the political fallout, providing the ultimate smokescreen.
If only she had capable personnel to utilize it. Aside from Vito's occasional flash of sense and Olivas's blunt utility, the rest of the faction were leeches draining her intelligence. Tonight was the perfect proof. Apate had completely ignored her warnings, throwing support behind Rudra's delusion of a crippling surface strike.
Below, she watched the killer squad push deeper into the courtyard. The resistance was remarkably fragile, the defenders falling far too quickly without putting up a real fight. To her, the night air felt entirely too still. Finn was excessively cautious; he would never leave his home defenseless. A morbid curiosity kept Valletta anchored to the rooftop, eager to see exactly what kind of teeth the Braver left behind.
It's too easy.
On cue, the Braver's snare snapped shut.
An alarm shrieked across the expansive mansion, shattering the silence. Courtyard lights flared with blinding intensity as she watched the heavy iron gates slam closed with a concussive clang, locking the strike force inside. Before the grunts could process the noise, the air warped. A translucent barrier sprang from the perimeter walls, forming an inescapable dome over the outer compound. A heartbeat later, a dense emerald shield flickered into existence to seal the mansion itself.
The ambush party was trapped in the dead space between two walls of magic.
Valletta leaned further over the ledge, dissecting the trap's mechanics. The air inside the dome began to shimmer as the dual barriers actively radiated searing heat, turning the enclosed courtyard into a literal kill box designed to slowly roast the invading force. Down in the rising temperatures, panic rippled through the Evilus ranks. On pure instinct, Dina and Vena launched a frenzied assault against the inner emerald barrier. Their weapons slammed into the magical construct with explosive force, but the shield held firm.
Compounding the strike force's misery, the mansion's upper balconies flooded with light as defending mages took their positions. Magic circles began to bloom along the inner walls, charging offensive spells to rain down into the courtyard.
But almost immediately, she noticed several of the mages wince. Their chanting faltered as they slumped over, visibly exhausted.
A dark smirk stretched across Valletta's face. She understood the mechanics perfectly. Maintaining that defensive barrier against the desperate assault of two Level 5s was hard enough, but under the crushing weight of her Shaldo, the mages' Status was severely lowered. The spell was bleeding their Mind dry at an accelerated rate.
You ingrates better be thanking me for this generosity, she sneered internally, watching the defenders gasp for breath.
Frankly, she was surprised they were even left behind. Magic became invaluable the deeper an expedition went, where the monsters turned truly horrific. Leaving mages on the surface was a risk Finn rarely took.
And above the struggling mages, she spotted the Trickster herself. Goddess Loki stared down at the invading forces as if observing a colony of drowning ants, though Valletta caught the grim tightening of the deity's mouth. Loki understood the board. Finn's defenses were masterful, but she knew they were built to buy time for a commanding executive to strategize, not to endure a full-scale assault from First-Class adventurers indefinitely.
Shifting her gaze back to the courtyard, Valletta's smirk widened as she located the architect of this disaster. Rudra stood out amidst his scarred grunts, looking out of his depth.
Apate at least had the brains to order Loki captured alive, Valletta thought, but Rudra's monumental ego wouldn't let him sit on the sidelines. The hot-blooded idiot tagged along just to claim the kill himself.
Now, he was trapped in an expanding oven.
From her vantage point, Valletta also noticed a few cloaked figures slipping out of the manor's rear alleys, sprinting toward the Pantheon to alert the Guild. It wouldn't take long for a strike force to arrive—another fatal oversight by the assaulting unit.
It took time, but she knew raw power possessed a brutal logic. As the heat reached a boiling point, the Dis sisters synchronized their strikes. The outer barrier spider-webbed first, fracturing under the desperate concussive pressure of dozens of second class adventurers. A minute later, the emerald inner shield shattered like glass from the two Level 5s assault.
The kill box was broken.
Above, the drained mages scrambled in disarray. She watched Loki decisively abandon her vantage point after her initial assessment, retreating into the uppermost sanctum with the surviving personnel and locking the heavy doors—a desperate measure that wouldn't hold Dina and Vena for more than a few seconds.
For a fleeting moment, she weighed the tactical value of outright treason, entertaining the thought of saving the goddess just to keep her grand game of minds with the Braver alive. But as she watched the Guild runners disappear into the city streets, pragmatism won out.
If things truly spiraled out of hand with the Guild's arrival, she could always jump in. The Dis sisters were Level 5s—irreplaceable assets. With the Spirit Soldiers she had in reserve, she could easily bail them out before they were captured.
But as the doors to the top floor splintered and the assault party poured inside, Valletta merely exhaled and relaxed her grip on her sword. Finn was a survivor. Even if he lost his home and his goddess tonight, she was fully confident he would find a way to keep their game interesting.
-◈ -
General Pov
"MAXIMUS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK—IT'S EVILUS!"
The frantic scream tore through the mental link, snapping the ambient tension of Floor 27 in half.
For a single heartbeat, Max's mind went blank.
Then, the realization clicked into place with sickening clarity. The ambush down here. His broken sign. Evilus hadn't orchestrated this elaborate trap just to steal a Monster Rex kill or stop him from leveling up. This was a diversion. The main force was hitting Loki.
But what if it wasn't just Loki under siege? What if it was the Astraea Familia, too? He imagined Alise, Ryuu, and Astraea surrounded by these corrupted zombies, cornered with nowhere to run.
A cold, sharp spike of terror pierced his chest. Unlike Loki or Freya, Astraea doesn't have my comms bracelets. If they were in this exact situation, they couldn't even call him for help.
Shit, Max cursed internally.
He didn't hesitate. Channeling a separate mental thread, he immediately reached out to his clone.
Rimuru. Drop whatever you are doing. Get to the Stardust Garden immediately and ensure Astraea Familia's safety. Kill anyone who threatens them.
Understood, boss, the clone's voice echoed back instantly, cool and absolute.
With his blind spot secured, Max drew a deep breath, ruthlessly forcing his panic down to focus on the immediate crisis. He couldn't rewrite fate if he lost his head here. He made a silent vow to rectify his glaring oversight with the comms bracelets the moment this nightmare was over.
But the mere thought of them in danger had already done its work. His blood ignited.
"Don't panic," Max ordered over the link, suppressing the violent spike in his heart rate to project absolute control. "How many are there? How long can you hold them?"
"A few dozen, led by two first-class adventurers!" Loki replied in a rush, letting out a sharp gasp of despair.
That's when Max heard a splintering CRACK through the connection.
"The outer barrier is breaking!" she shouted, the sound of explosions roaring in the background. "A few minutes at best!"
Max's tactical mind shifted into overdrive. "Gather everyone you have left. Keep them close to you. I will ping back in exactly one minute."
He severed the link before she could argue. A ruthless plan was already assembling in his head—calculating where to teleport them, and more importantly, who to send as the welcoming committee to reward Evilus for their proactive help in identifying his blind spots.
But the volcanic weight of his outrage couldn't be contained by simple logic.
For the first time since he had learned aura control, Max let go. He stopped suppressing his demonic nature, unleashing his unadulterated spirit.
His suppressed demonic aura burst outward like a mushroom cloud from a detonation. Unlike a spell, it wasn't the physical, space-warping gravity he had used to crush the dragon. It was simply the unfiltered manifestation of his Demonic power, pressing down on the freezing cavern like the lightless depths of the ocean—choking, heavy, and vicious.
When the pressure hit, Basram couldn't even blink.
It felt as if an entire mountain had slammed onto his shoulders. The High Priest lost his footing instantly, collapsing hard onto one knee. His knuckles turned purple as he clung to his shakujo, leaning heavily on the staff just to keep from being flattened against the ice. He desperately wanted to run, to scramble back into the tunnels and flee to Knossos, but the suffocating dread paralyzed his motor functions, leaving him glued to the stone.
An existential terror swallowed his fanatical heart as the feeling of microscopic insignificance crashed over him. This isn't a Level 3, his panicked mind deduced. In fact, this suffocating density meant he definitely wasn't a Level 4, either.
Then, the horrifying logic clicked into place. The Freya Familia had lied and deliberately misranked him. Just like the Guild's other dirty secrets, they were hiding a monster in plain sight. It all made terrifying sense if the boy was a hidden Level 5—or something far worse—projecting the illusion of a rookie.
But crushing weight intensified, pressing the oxygen out of his lungs, leaving him no time to think further. Hysteria clawed at Basram's mind and unable to draw enough breath to shout, he channeled his fraying focus and shoved a pulse of mind into his shakujo.
Kill him! the High Priest shrieked through the staff. The pressure pushed his face closer to the ice, fracturing his composure. KILL HIM! KILL! KILL! KILL!
He forced the command into the minds of his Apostles before the aura could completely crush his consciousness. Pinned in place, all he could do was drag his watering eyes downward to watch the lake.
Down on the ice, the four Apostles twitched. The two weaker abominations locked in place, seizing under a pressure their ruined nerves couldn't process. But driven by their overseer's frantic order, the two stronger corpses moved. Forcing their bodies to respond through their overwhelming strength, they locked their gazes on Max and began trudging across the ice.
On the other side of the lake, the initial wave flattened Kairu into a blue puddle, spider-webbing the ice beneath him. But the slime was bound to Max, already accustomed to his master's volatile magic.
Within a heartbeat, Kairu adapted. Regaining his motor control, he snapped back into a sphere. He just finished absorbing his frozen kills when he noticed the two stronger dead-eyed things marching toward his Master, who looked busy.
Kairu's core thrummed with irritation. He would not let these rotting things take another step.
Tapping into the frozen lake, Kairu surged forward to intercept. He ripped a slab of ice from the surface and hurled it.
A heavy thud echoed across the cavern.
The same dead-eyed thing that blocked his attack earlier forced its arms up, shattering the slab into shrapnel. Breaking completely free of the lingering pressure, both corpses lunged at the familiar, forcing Kairu into a melee.
As Kairu locked into the clash, he sensed the two weaker dead-eyed things finally break the last of the paralysis and their heads snapped toward them, and they began to close in from the flanks.
To counter the flank, Kairu used the lightning spell Master had taught him over the last week. As ethereal letters quickly arranged themselves across his gelatinous mass, a yellow spark ignited within his core, humming with volatile magic. With a violent thrust of his pseudopod, he hurled a massive orb of lightning. The blast caught the two dead-eyed things point-blank in the chest, filling the cavern with the sharp stench of ozone and launching them fifty feet across the lake.
Up on the ledge, Basram could only watch in horrified disbelief as a puddle of ooze casually held off a squad of First-Class Apostles.
Desperation finally overriding his paralysis, the priest channeled a frantic command into his shakujo. If those Level 5s fell, he was dead. He needed to sacrifice the vanguard. Without hesitation, he issued a mental order to switch their positions, throwing his remaining Level 4 Apostles into the meat grinder as fodder just so he could secure a path back to Knossos. Evilus needed to be warned about this monster in human flesh.
Maintaining the crushing weight of his aura without breaking a sweat, Max began his calls. The echoing ambiance of a massive stone hall filtered through the connection.
Ping.
Max was unsure if the Elder God would answer, but after just three rings, the line opened.
"Lord Ouranos," Max greeted smoothly, his voice completely devoid of the raging aura currently crushing the ice around him. "This is Maximus."
On the Sacred Altar, Ouranos sat in deep prayer. As he heard Max's voice, his ancient eyes slowly opened.
"Maximus," the Elder God answered in his calm tone. "Were there irregularities with the Amphisbaena?"
"Nothing of that nature. The dragon is dead, and the floor is secure," Max replied, giving the deity a brief second to process the info before dropping the real reason for his call. "But there is a crisis on the surface. Evilus has ambushed Loki. I am requesting permission to teleport her and the surviving members of her Familia directly into your chamber."
A profound silence stretched across the line.
On the altar, a calculating stillness fell over the ancient god. He understood the tactical necessity of a secure extraction, but the boy's request crossed a hard boundary. His sanctuary was restricted ground. The number of mortals who had ever stepped foot inside this chamber could be counted on one hand, and he had no intention of breaking that tradition.
"That is unacceptable," Ouranos stated, his voice absolute in its authority. "I will permit the Goddess to enter the Altar. Her children must be routed to the antechamber outside the doors."
On the frozen lake, Max paused, mentally splitting the teleportation coordinates of his escape route to accommodate the bifurcated destination.
"Understood," Max agreed. "I will separate the spatial links."
"And what of Evilus?" Ouranos asked, the faint edge of judgment bleeding into his words. "What countermeasures have you prepared to contain this foolish act?"
"I have prepared an adequate response," Max answered coolly. "They will be dealt with."
Satisfied, and uninterested in the bloody details of mortal retribution, Ouranos simply nodded to the empty hall. "You have my permission to open the gate."
The god closed his eyes, and the connection severed.
With the safety point secured, Max dialed the third person. She answered immediately.
Ping.
"Lady Freya. This is Max."
In Babel, Freya paused, her wine glass held loosely in her fingers. At the sound of his voice, she smiled, but the cold, deadly seriousness in his tone made her hesitate.
"Max?" Freya answered, sitting up.
Max skipped the pleasantries. "Loki is under attack by Evilus at her Manor."
The smile slipped from Freya's face. She raised a flawless eyebrow, a silent question immediately forming in her mind: How on earth did that flat-board manage to contact him?
Anticipating the unspoken question, Max smoothly provided the answer. "The Guild shared one of the communication bracelets I gave them with her. She just used it."
Freya let out a soft exhale. Ah. She must have kept it hidden under her sleeves when they met yesterday, she realized. Her mild curiosity satisfied, her tactical mind took the reins once more. If it was Guild business, the interaction made sense.
"I see," Freya murmured thoughtfully. Before Max could even speak, she pieced his motive together. "You want to help her... and you want to involve the Familia."
In the Dungeon, Max shook his head, a faint smirk breaking through his fury. He was very impressed by how flawlessly she nailed his reasoning.
"If you wanted to handle this personally, you would have already teleported there," Freya continued, analyzing his thoughts aloud. "And if you merely wanted reinforcements, you could have easily contacted your friends in Rivira. So... what exactly is it you want to do, Max?"
"I want to answer Evilus in a language they understand," Max replied, his voice darkening into a bloodthirsty purr. "I want to swap the bait for a bear trap. Send our executives to take Loki's place in her mansion and let them slaughter the invaders."
A deep silence stretched across the line as Freya let the sheer audacity of the idea sink in.
A melodic laugh eventually broke the quiet. Her hesitation vanished. She loved it. This wasn't just a rescue; this was a theatrical checkmate against the faction that dared disrupt her city and target Max.
"A magnificent idea," Freya agreed, her eyes glittering with the thrill. "They should be on their way to Floor 40 by now."
"Most likely," Max agreed. "Kairu left them on Floor 39 to join me."
Freya nodded after a moment, processing the shift in her vanguard's formation. "I see."
"May I add Ottar to the line?" Max asked.
"Proceed."
Max funneled his intent, bridging a new link and adding a third signature into their call.
Ping.
"Mistress," Ottar's stoic voice answered over the sound of heavy boots crunching against stone.
Taking a back seat, Max relinquished control of the conversation, allowing Freya to issue the official directives to her captain.
"Status, Ottar," Freya commanded.
"We are currently ascending to Floor 37," the Warlord reported. "We heard an abnormal quake originating from that floor. We are moving to investigate."
"Change of plans," Freya ordered, her tone turning razor-sharp. "Evilus is laying siege to Twilight Manor. You are to go there immediately and slaughter all attacking members. If there are any gods present, secure them."
"Your will, Goddess," Ottar accepted without hesitation.
Stepping back into the line, Max provided the logistics. "Gather everyone around you, Ottar. I will teleport you the moment the extraction is ready."
With the trap perfectly primed, Max thanked Freya and dropped the connection, immediately dialing Loki.
The Trickster Goddess picked up instantly.
"Are you ready?" Max asked calmly, cutting through the terrifying sound of stone violently splintering in the background.
"Yes, we're ready!"
"Perfect. I am teleporting you to Ouranos's Sacred Altar, and your Familia will be routed to the antechamber outside," Max instructed. "Channel your intent to teleport strongly into the bracelet."
Loki didn't argue. As she focused her mind, Max felt her location flare like a beacon. He locked onto her exact position, and a crimson teleportation circle bloomed under Loki. In a blink, they were gone.
Once Loki and her party were safely funneled into their destinations, Max locked onto Clone Kairu's signature in the Dungeon. Another teleportation circle bloomed under the Executives, and all of them vanished.
VWOOM!
In the topmost sanctum of Twilight Manor, just as the reinforced oak doors groaned and buckled under the assault of two Level 5s, a massive crimson teleportation circle bloomed on the floor. In a flash of light, the Freya Familia Executives appeared in the room.
And as they gained back their senses and scanned the room they were in—
CRASH!
The heavy doors finally blew inward, torn off their hinges by a devastating double-kick. Wood shrapnel rained across the luxurious carpet as the Evilus assault team poured into the room. Through the settling dust, Dina and Vena stepped forward. They were covered in blood that wasn't their own, wearing identical sadistic smiles as they scanned the smoke for their prize.
"Oh, Loookiiii~!" Dina called out in a mocking, sing-song voice.
"Come out, come out, wherever you—" Vena's taunt died in her throat.
As the smoke cleared, it didn't reveal a cowering flat-board Goddess or a group of exhausted mages like she was expecting.
Instead, she could see multiple shadowy figures waiting in the room, and had to really focus through the dust to catch their features.
To the left, standing in a synchronized diamond formation, were four heavily armored Pallums, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.
To the right, a catman casually leaned on a silver spear, locking onto the sisters with the predatory focus of a starving beast. Beside him stood an elegant white elf adjusting his glasses with deadly poise, followed by a silver-haired dark elf who slowly drew a cursed black sword, his eyes glowing a blood-drenched crimson.
As the sisters' eyes caught the striking visages of Hedin and Hogni, for a fleeting moment, their hearts skipped a beat at the refined presence of the two lovely elves.
But that brief flutter was instantly swallowed by suffocating terror when their gaze shifted to the center of the room.
Towering over all of them like a statue of dark armor, the Warlord of Orario slowly raised his massive greatsword, his eyes empty of anything resembling mercy.
The sadistic smirks slid off the sisters' faces, replaced instantly by the icy paralysis of unavoidable death.
They hadn't breached a sanctuary. They had kicked down the door to a slaughterhouse.
--> Devil in a Dungeon <--
AN:
This chapter, especially the General Pov takes the cake for one of the most complex scenes I wrote, with too many people and heavy lore involved, the scene was very delicate. I hope everything makes sense and doesn't feel rushed as anymore slowing down would lag the scene and so I made peace with the scene.
Many things happened in the chapter and I want to clear a few things about Valletta's magic first. I know it was a super long chant magic, but it could be pre-programmed as well and that was how she already had her magic ready and activated it once the siege began.
About the shields around Twilight Manor, I think in canon Guild provided some special artefacts to protect the beacon points like Folkvangr, Twilight Manor and other safe spots from the monsters, so that's why these measures weren't deployed. So for the story, they are already there.
I know the sudden jump to Kairu from Basram in General Pov is a bit confusing, but I didn't want to break the flow and have a header there, hope it reads fine.
The next chapter will be the consequences of Evilus foolishness, Max focusing on Basram and an emergency Danaetus.
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 Tuesday.
Ben, Out.
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