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As Damien trudged along the dirt road, the massive city grew larger in the distance, its central tower looming high above the horizon like a spear piercing the heavens.
"Orario…" he muttered, staring at the impossibly tall spire. The Labyrinth City. Ho of the Dungeon, the gods, and the adventurers who carved their legends within its depths.
His thoughts wandered as he walked. 'So… what do I actually rember of DanMachi?' Gods and their Familias… the Dungeon… the never-ending battles beneath that tower. If he could level up alone through the System, did he really need a god's blessing?
Technically, no. But if he went into the Dungeon without a Falna, without a Familia crest on his back, people would start asking questions. Suspicion was the last thing he needed.
'Hestia's an option… kind and trustworthy, but I don't even know what tiline this is. Loki could work too—cunning, but she does care for her children. And then there are the dark Familias. Yeah… better tread carefully.'
The dirt path eventually led him out of the forest, and the sound of voices carried on the wind. Ahead, a line of travelers and rchants queued before the city gates, guards checking wagons and charging entrance fees.
Damien froze. "…Oh, shit."
Money. He didn't have a single valis to his na.
As he hesitated, trying to think of a way past the guards, a voice spoke from his left.
"You all right, kid?"
Damien turned his head and nearly choked. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, muscles packed tight against his fra—but his stance and attire scread flamboyance. Silk-like clothes, a dramatic pose, and a strange gentleness in his eyes.
"…You an ?" Damien asked, confused. 'Did he just call a kid?'
"Well of course, darling," the man said, his voice warm yet theatrical. "You're the only one covered head-to-toe in blood. Care to explain that?"
Damien blinked, finally realizing how bad he looked. His shirt was torn and stained from his earlier fight with the goblin. From anyone else's perspective, he must've looked like a survivor crawling out of a battlefield.
"Ah… right." He scrambled for an excuse. "I—I lost my caravan. Bandit attack. Everyone else… they didn't make it. I ran. I've got nothing left but these clothes."
The man's expression hardened for a mont, sharp and unreadable. Damien felt his heart skip. 'Crap. He's not buying it—'
But then the man's entire deanor flipped.
"YOU POOR BOY!" he exclaid, pulling Damien into a crushing hug that nearly knocked the wind out of him. "Tragic! Absolutely tragic! To lose your family like that—oh, the heavens weep!"
Before Damien could react, the man clutched his shoulders with surprising tenderness.
"Don't you worry, darling. Uncle Karmac is going to take care of you!"
...
It happened so fast Damien barely had ti to argue. With a single wave of his jeweled hand, Karmac summoned an attendant—a small Pallum who hurried to obey every word.
Still half-dragged along in line, Damien suddenly found himself ushered into a carriage. The Pallum handed him a neatly folded set of clothes, bowing slightly as if this were all perfectly ordinary.
"This is…" Damien blinked, holding up the fabric. A collared white shirt, cut in a sharp V that revealed part of the chest, and sleek black silk trousers that looked expensive enough to buy half a village.
The Pallum spoke politely as Damien hesitated. "Master Karmac is a generous man. He takes care of those in need. He even runs orphanages in six different cities—including Orario itself."
Damien slipped the shirt on, feeling the softness of the fabric. It fit snugly, almost too well, clinging without restriction. "Is it really okay for to wear sothing like this?"
The Pallum simply nodded, moving behind him with a comb. "Please don't worry. Master Karmac would never leave a stray soul without dignity."
Damien chuckled awkwardly. "Wow… such an amazing person."
When the Pallum finished, he handed Damien a small hand mirror. "Please, take a look."
Damien raised the mirror to his face—and froze.
"Oh… fuck ."
The reflection staring back was almost inhuman.
His features were unnaturally sharp, each line precise like it had been carved from marble rather than born of flesh. A strong jawline, high cheekbones, lips that held a quiet stillness. His skin was pale and smooth as porcelain, frad by dark hair that fell in straight strands just past his ears. The strands caught faint light like obsidian, their natural weight perfectly framing his face.
But it was his eyes that unsettled him most. Clear, icy, almost glasslike—they reflected everything and gave nothing back.
His fra, too, had changed. Long-limbed and slender, shoulders narrow yet elegant, he wore the clothes too well. The V-cut shirt exposed the hollow of his collarbone and the faint lines of his chest, while the fitted trousers carried a grace that made him look like so aristocratic youth.
Damien's jaw dropped. "Why the fuck do I look like a cute femboy?!"
The thought hit him harder than the sight. His mind churned. 'Hold up. Why am I even young?! I was thirty when I died… but this body… I can't be more than fourteen!'
Then another, more horrifying realization 'Wait a sec. That old man… Karmac. Is that why he's helping ? He couldn't be into younger boys, could he?'
His grip on the mirror tightened as the truth settled in. He hadn't just been thrown into Orario with the System—he had been reborn.
Damien stared at his reflection one last ti and sighed. 'So this is reality… I really am a cute femboy.'
He clenched his jaw. 'No. Fuck that! I'm still a dude! And I'll prove it—by fucking lots of girls! That'll show 'em!'
Then another thought hit him like a hamr. 'Wait… if I look like this, every woman in Orario is going to chase … no, worse—every man too! UGHHHH, NOOO, that's NOT what's gonna happen!'
Before he could spiral further, the carriage door creaked open. Karmac stepped inside, his sheer presence filling the space with perfu and authority.
"Well, Dorin, did you care for him properly?" the old rchant asked his Pallum attendant.
The Pallum gave a respectful nod.
Karmac turned his attention to Damien—his jeweled eyes glittered—and gasped dramatically. "Oh! HOW CUTE!"
A chill ran down Damien's spine. His survival instincts scread at him. Still, he forced a strained smile, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you, Karmac… sir. I appreciate the help—and the clothes."
"Of course, darling!" Karmac waved a hand flamboyantly, nearly smacking Dorin in the face. "How could I ignore such a precious boy in need? Now—tell your na! And what brings you to the great city of Orario?"
Damien sat straighter, trying to look more like a warrior than a runaway noble's son. "Oh. Right. I haven't introduced myself yet… I'm Damien. Damien Ardent. And I'm here to beco an Adventurer."
The air in the carriage seed to shift. Karmac's painted lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.
"An Adventurer, is it? Well then… Orario is the place for you, my boy. But take heed—it will eat you alive if you aren't clever."
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If you Like this story! Check out my other storys ! Sukuna in DC! and Dragon Slayer in Marvel!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support just because ? than check out my patreon at
"spatreon/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !
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