Danmachi: Is it Wrong to be Alise Lovell in a Dungeon?

Third-Person Objective

The gleam of cold metal and the scent of freshly tanned leather mingled with the steady rhythm of hammering, hurried footsteps, and voices debating prices. Swords lined up on wooden racks, spears hanging on the walls, shields decorating sturdy pillars, and rows of shelves crammed with equipment — every visible inch of the forge was occupied.

There was a kind of solemnity in that place. The polished blades captured the lamplight with a restrained gleam, almost reverent, as if they were waiting — patient and silent — for someone willing to wield them… and, with luck, survive long enough to care for them.

In the right corner, near a row of large, heavy boxes, stood Alise.

**

Alise Lovell's POV

Kneeling on the rough floor, I rummaged through the inside of one of the boxes — stuffed to the brim with pieces of armor tossed in haphazardly.

As soon as the sun rose, Lady Astraea brought me to this shop.

There was a bit of everything in there: metal plates of various shapes, leather belts, clasps, elbow guards, shoulder pads of mismatched sizes. Some pieces were dented, others stained with dark rust — subtle in some spots, glaring in others. And there were fragments that looked more like scraps than actual parts of armor.

I never imagined I'd need to buy armor one day. And to be completely honest, I had no idea how to tell what was truly useful from what was clearly junk trying to pass as gear.

Even so, something intrigued me.

I wasn't having as much trouble as I'd imagined handling those pieces.

I held up a chestplate with both hands, testing its weight. It was heavy — as it should be — but lighter than I expected. It was… manageable. Comfortably doable. Considering my current body was no older than twelve, that realization left me a bit stunned.

"Wow..." I murmured, letting out an involuntary sigh.

Maybe the Falna was already starting to take effect, I thought.

While trying — still clumsily — to put on a makeshift set made up of a chestplate, knee guards, greaves, faulds, bracers, and leather arm guards — all gathered after several failed attempts — I heard familiar footsteps approaching.

I stood up, and soon Lady Astraea came into view.

"Well?" she asked, crossing her arms with a gentle smile. "Did you find something you like?"

"I think so," I replied, glancing at myself as I adjusted one of the chestplate straps. "It's nothing impressive, but it feels right. Like it fits me well."

Lacking a better comparison, I felt like someone about to ride a motorcycle for the first time: covered in protection and terrified of falling. Astraea stepped closer and knelt in front of me, assessing the pieces with a careful eye, examining every buckle, every clasp, every sign of wear.

"Just tell me one thing," she said as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not picking just based on price tags, are you?" Her tone was light, but carried a genuine undercurrent of concern.

"I've been saving up for this for a long time, Alise. I want you to choose something that really works for you."

"No…" I really liked these pieces. I don't want anything that'll get in the way if… if I need to run from a monster, you know? And these are light enough for that.

I hesitated for a moment. A tight feeling rose in my chest, and my eyes sought refuge on the floor.

"And besides… there's still the weapon. And lots of other things…" I added more quietly, nervously entwining my fingers.

Astraea then crouched a little lower and placed one hand gently on top of my head, ruffling my hair with a soft gesture.

"This isn't an expense, Alise," she said, with affectionate firmness. "It's an investment in your safety. In your future. And being able to do this for you… it truly makes me happy."

There was so much tenderness in her voice — a serene kind of affection, like a gentle scolding. My thoughts drifted back to the night before, to the long hours we spent talking.

She told me about the Guild — the organization responsible for regulating adventurers and keeping order in Orario. She also explained the crumpled paper she had given me, called a "Status", which recorded the abilities of my body now that I carried her falna.

I tried to read it, I won't deny… but the letters were strange, written in an alphabet I barely recognized. Some were smudged, others nearly faded, as if the ink had been dragged by smoke.

Lady Astraea noticed immediately. But instead of laughing or questioning, she simply smiled. With gentle patience, she began to teach me the basics — just enough so I wouldn't seem completely lost. Thankfully, the alphabet of this world wasn't that far off from what I already knew.

She also told me that she'd been working as a teacher in one of the city's districts. Said she always believed that, sooner or later, she'd manage to form her own Familia. And so, she spent months saving money — around twenty thousand valis, the local currency — waiting for the moment when someone would finally join her.

"I wanted my first child to start off with all the blessings possible," she confided that night, with a timid, almost embarrassed smile. "Even if I can't protect her inside the dungeon… I want to at least make sure she has good armor."

In that moment, no words felt enough. I just looked at her in silence, heart tight, searching for something — anything — to express what I felt.

Now, as I adjusted the improvised armor to my body and tested the greaves' fit, a warm wave of gratitude spread through me. It wasn't just for the armor.

Astraea stood up gracefully, smoothing the folds of her skirt with her hands, and turned her gaze toward the shop's side wall, where a row of weapons gleamed under the warm lamplight.

"We've decided on the armor…" she said calmly. "How about we take a look at the weapons now? Just to see if any of them catch your eye."

I swallowed hard. The tension returned, tightening my stomach with icy fingers.

I walked toward the wall with uncertain steps, guided more by the calm rhythm of Lady Astraea's breathing than by any trace of courage of my own. Nothing there seemed hostile, but neither did it feel welcoming. It was like stepping into a gallery of things made to kill — and there was everything.

Short swords, with darkened hilts and still-shining blades. Long, heavy double-edged swords resting firmly on sturdy supports. Thin, almost elegant daggers. Slender spears with ornate tips. Heavy axes, imposing and curved, among others less familiar.

It was strange. I was about to choose a weapon.

A weapon.

Me — who could barely stand the sight of blood in the news. Who always looked away in movies whenever the violence felt too real. Who had never raised a hand against anyone, except when overtaken by fear.

And now… now I had to decide what I would fight with.

But this was my decision. My choice. There was no room left for retreat.

She had extended her hand to me — and I want, need, to return that gesture.

"Do you think any of these suit you?" Astraea asked softly, trying to put me at ease.

I stayed silent for a few seconds, eyes drifting across the rows in front of me.

"I don't know…" I finally replied, feeling the weight carried in those simple words.

I examined the options carefully. Many were ruled out immediately. Axes seemed too heavy. Spears, too long. Daggers, too small.

And then, at last, I found myself before the swords.

I stopped in front of them.

I approached one of the more modest ones: no adornments, no excessive polish. I ran my fingers gently over the darkened leather hilt, feeling its firm, real texture. Then I lifted it with both hands.

It wasn't light — nor did it need to be. But its weight was manageable. And more than that, it fit well in my hands.

The blade was straight, clean, unpretentious. Simply functional. It seemed to whisper: "I'm not here to be pretty. I'm here to do my job."

"Thinking of taking that one?" Astraea asked, her voice full of curiosity and encouragement.

I nodded slowly, still staring at the blade in my hands.

"I… don't want to throw myself into the middle of monsters," I confessed quietly, as if admitting a weakness. "But I also don't want to just stand around, waiting to be saved."

"This sword… it has good reach. I don't have to be so close that I put myself in danger, but I'm not too far either. It gives me time to run to someone, if needed."

I lifted my gaze and found hers.

"I want to be able to reach others… before it's too late." Memories of the fire crossed my mind, threatening to consume me from the inside.

Lady Astraea must have seen the flames reflected in my eyes, for she looked at me with a gentle, understanding expression — as if she grasped every word, even the ones I still couldn't speak.

"You're a very special girl," she said kindly. "That was an excellent choice. I have a feeling I'm going to be surprised many times by the decisions you'll make from now on."

I pressed the sword against my chest, feeling the weight — not just of the cold metal, but of the meaning it carried. It was more than a weapon; it was a symbol. One of Astraea's emblems, discreetly engraved on the Status she had given me the night before.

Knowing that made my choice even more meaningful. As if, by wielding it, I was telling myself I wanted to walk beside her — not just under her protection.

"There are still a few things I need to give you," said Astraea, with a serene light in her eyes. "After that, we'll begin your first day as an adventurer."

I took a deep breath. The truth was, I still didn't know if I was truly ready.

But for now, this was enough. One step at a time was all I needed to keep moving forward.

**

Later that same day, we had finally finished our shopping — everything Lady Astraea considered her responsibility to provide for me. I must admit, deep down, I was starting to feel a considerably pressure from all the trust (and investment) being placed in me.

As for the clothes, we set aside the excessively long dresses that dragged on the ground and looked like they were made for balls or gala parties. Instead, she bought a few simple and inexpensive pieces just to wear at home. For now, however, I wore the same clothes I had on when I arrived in this world — practical, fitted to my body, and completely devoid of frills. Travel clothes.

Over them, I wore the armor I had chosen at the forge earlier — now with a few subtle additions. A new belt, attached to the fauld, served as support for my sword's sheath. On the other side, a small side pouch was also fastened to the fauld, swaying gently with each step.

Inside it, there was a small empty cloth sachet tied with a thin string — I still had no idea what I was supposed to keep in it — and three translucent glass vials filled with a bright blue liquid that reminded me of what I'd seen with the pointy-eared adventurers.

Lady Astraea called them potions. She explained that they were used to heal injuries — apparently a common item in an adventurer's routine. And before I could protest, she made me promise to use one without hesitation if I got hurt.

I observed the vials in the palm of my hand and wondered how much they had cost. Just imagining the price made me feel less inclined to ever use them. And yet… there was something comforting about having them with me. It was a kind of reassurance that even if I were injured, I would still have a chance to return.

I stored them carefully and lifted my gaze to the city ahead.

From where I stood, I could see part of Orario sprawling out across the streets below. Dozens of adventurers walked the roads with determined steps, each carrying weapons, armor, or heavy bags — each with their own goal in mind.

The architecture, old by my standards, was fascinating. But there was a subtle tension in the air. As cheerful and excited as the mood seemed, that enthusiasm only existed within the small groups. Among strangers, the city was quiet. Indifferent. Sometimes, even slightly hostile.

I was pulled from my thoughts when I nearly bumped into a bald, bearded adventurer with shoulders as broad as a mountain. That's when I realized: I had reached my destination.

The Pantheon wasn't exactly impressive at first glance — at least, not in the grand way most would imagine. Compared to the towering Babel, it even seemed modest.

Its façade was built from solid stone, with windows reinforced by iron bars and adorned with colorful stained glass. The burnt-yellow bricks gave the building an aged, yet well-maintained appearance — something that had withstood the passage of time without ever losing its purpose.

In front of the wide-open doors, which seemed always ready to welcome new adventurers, I took a deep breath. Still not entirely certain, I pushed one of the heavy panels open and stepped inside — crossing the threshold into what I soon recognized as the Guild's reception hall.

According to Lady Astraea, this was where I was supposed to find a receptionist — someone who would become my advisor. It would be this person's job to guide me, offer advice on the adventurer lifestyle, and most importantly, help me with everything related to the Dungeon.

Trusting my still-uncertain judgment, I observed the adventurers around me, trying to identify those with simpler gear, maybe beginners like myself. With luck, they'd be gathered in some line specifically for newcomers.

Without my goddess at my side, I felt vulnerable and a little lost. Even so, I pushed the discomfort to the back of my mind and joined the first line I found. Part of me already suspected it wasn't the right place… but at the very least, it would put me close to a Guild staff member.

It was an improvised plan — the best my anxious mind could come up with in that situation. Maybe there were more logical, more practical options... but it would be enough if this little misstep pushed me, even by accident, in the right direction.

Eventually, after long and silent minutes in a line that only seemed to grow behind me, my turn finally arrived.

The receptionist who assisted me was a short, elderly man. He wore his gray hair with dignity, gifted by time, and had yellow-framed glasses held by a delicate chain of golden rings that swayed gently with each movement.

"Well now, young lady…" he said, adjusting his glasses with a calm, experienced motion. "Don't think I've seen you around here before. Is this your first time?"

I straightened my back on reflex, trying to appear more confident than I actually felt — even though my heart was pounding like I had just run a marathon.

"E-Excuse me!" I spoke too loudly. "I'm looking to become an adventurer! Would you… would you be willing to become my advisor, please?!"

I bent into a hurried bow, trying to seem respectful — but the overly loud tone of my voice and how quickly I blurted out the words had the opposite effect.

Behind me, I heard the first chuckles rise, followed by cheerful remarks:

"That's the spirit, girl!" someone shouted enthusiastically, drawing laughter and even a few rhythmic claps, as if I had just performed on stage. "Go for it!"

"Look how excited she is! So cute!"

The hall filled with collective laughter — not mocking, but more like warm amusement that could melt even the sternest faces. I felt my face burn the same vibrant red as my hair.

Even the receptionist had to take a moment to compose himself, chuckling softly as he held his stomach for a second, then regaining his posture with a smile in his eyes.

"Ah, the youth..." he murmured, smiling warmly. "It's been a long time since I've seen someone so full of enthusiasm. Forgive me for laughing... I didn't mean it disrespectfully. It was refreshing."

I lowered my head, still embarrassed, but relieved that he wasn't offended by my awkward approach.

"I'd be happy to accept your request, young lady," he continued, adjusting his glasses again with a calm gesture. His tone grew slightly more serious, though the kind smile still lingered on his lips. "And I'll be responsible for you from now on. I just ask one small thing…"

He paused briefly to check a small pocket watch attached to his vest by a fine chain.

"My shift ends in just a few minutes. If you don't mind waiting a bit, I'll take care of your paperwork as soon as I'm free."

"Y-Yes! Thank you very much!"

I hurried out of the line, mumbling apologies to the people behind me. To my surprise, no one seemed annoyed by the little delay I'd caused. In fact… the atmosphere around me felt friendlier. Some still smiled, nodding quietly in approval. The heavy, indifferent feeling I'd sensed upon arriving had lifted — not completely, but enough to notice.

Lady Astraea had mentioned that Orario had been going through difficult times lately. And in a way, I could understand that kind of thing.

I found a wide moss-green cushioned bench near the counter and sat down, adjusting my sword beside my hip and trying to calm my still-racing heart. Now, all I had to do was wait for the elderly receptionist to finish his shift.

**

" I didn't keep you waiting too long, did I?" said the receptionist as he approached, settling onto a cushioned bench across from me. He carried a weathered folder, from which he pulled out a few papers and began organizing them carefully on the table. "It's been a while since I last assisted a rookie."

"Orario isn't getting many new adventurers anymore?" I asked, leaning forward slightly, curious.

"Ah, the flow is still strong, as always." The elderly man chuckled, a light laugh that made his eyes wrinkle in a warm, friendly way. "But, you see… most prefer the younger, flashier Guild staff. Maybe they think an old man like me should be at home with a book on his lap," he added, with a soft, unbothered laugh.

I smiled back, feeling more at ease.

"Actually, I think I prefer someone with more experience to handle something this important," I admitted sincerely. I hadn't approached him for any particular reason, but I felt lucky. He seemed like a good man.

"Oh, is that so?" His eyes sparkled for a moment, with a glimmer of genuine warmth. "In that case, thank you… mhm…"

It took me a second, but I soon caught the cue.

"Ah! Alise! My name is Alise Lovell," I said, a bit too quickly.

"Alise Lovell," he repeated with a kind nod, writing the name on a form with slow, elegant handwriting — full of careful curves, the kind only someone who'd written for many, many years could produce. "I'm Fergus Thorne. But just call me Fergus, alright?"

"It'll be a pleasure working with you, Mister Fergus," I said, placing my hands lightly on my lap and trying to maintain the most polite posture I could.

He smiled — not a formal smile, but the kind a grandfather gives when watching his granddaughter take her first steps into a new stage of life.

"The pleasure is all mine, Alise. Let's start your journey on the right foot, shall we?"

After a brief nod from me, Fergus continued in a more serious tone.

"Before we get into the technical aspects... there are a few things I'd like to make sure of first."

"That's fine," I replied with a nod. "Ask anything you want."

He adjusted his glasses and took on a more reserved air.

"Are you aware of the risks of becoming an adventurer at such a young age?" he asked cautiously, weighing each word. "I've worked as a Guild receptionist for forty-six years. I've seen many promising young ones lose their lives in the Dungeon… Most of them were like you. Newcomers, full of hope, dreaming of glory and riches."

Fergus's expression darkened for a moment. It was subtle, but noticeable — as if old scars had reopened inside him, bringing back memories he couldn't erase.

"The Dungeon shows no mercy, Alise. It doesn't care about age, talent, or good intentions. And it worries me to see someone as fragile as my youngest granddaughter heading in that direction. Especially if it's being done on impulse."

I understood. Fergus deserved respect. He wasn't just following Guild protocol — he truly cared. And, looking at me, it was easy to see why. The appearance this world had given me was that of a sweet and enthusiastic girl. Someone who naturally evoked concern.

But inside… I was something else. A young adult, shaped by loss and difficult choices. The innocence of childhood had been left behind long ago.

"I'm aware of the dangers, Mister Fergus," I said firmly, keeping my eyes locked on his. "It may seem like I'm eager to rush into the Dungeon… but honestly, if I had any other way to grow stronger, I'd choose it without hesitation."

My voice faltered briefly.

"There's someone very important to me in this world. Someone I... care about deeply. And I don't want to risk losing her because of my own inability."

The wrinkles on Fergus's face tightened slightly as he absorbed my words with a hint of disbelief.

"That's an unusual motivation… but admirable," he said, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. "For someone just starting out, your equipment is excellent. Are you going to dive straight into the Dungeon to test your limits?"

"No. I still get nervous just thinking about it. My plan is to start slowly, on the uppermost floors, and go deeper gradually over time."

Fergus watched me for a few seconds, as if reassessing me from a new perspective — and this time, with more respect.

"Haha... right. I forgot you can't judge someone by their appearance anymore. You're more sensible than many seasoned adventurers who've sat at this table."

I smiled softly, though a subtle bitterness hid behind the gesture.

"I guess… I had to grow up a little too early."

Fergus's expression faltered, as if something inside him gave way momentarily. The wrinkles on his face seemed to weigh heavier, and he remained silent, just staring at me for longer than he probably intended.

It was the same look Mrs. Marlene used to give me sometimes, when she thought I wasn't looking — a mixture of compassion and melancholy that tried to comfort, but only hurt more.

"…Sorry about that." He adjusted his glasses with an automatic motion, regaining his composure. "That's all I needed to know. Now, let's get to the point."

Fergus took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was heavier, laced with certainty.

"I'm going to update your Familia's registration at the Guild, confirm your entry, and formalize the beginning of your career as an adventurer. From today onward, Alise, I'll be your official advisor."

"Thank you, Mister Fergus," I murmured, my voice subdued.

**

A few hours later, I found myself cautiously descending the first underground floor of Babel — the colossal structure of stone and white marble I had encountered on my first day here, visible from nearly every point in the city — perhaps even beyond its borders.

The echo of steady footsteps rang out despite the tension that hung heavy in the air. Around me, more experienced adventurers advanced along the immense spiral staircase that led into the depths of the world. The atmosphere was dark, oppressive — and yet, against all expectations, a quiet confidence had begun to bloom inside me.

Mister Fergus had explained the structure of the colossal tower and warned me about the dangers I might face on the initial floors. No explanation, of course, could replace the real experience of facing a living monster with claws, fangs, and hostile intent. But his words served as a foundation and offered unexpected stability.

After all... living in Orario meant accepting this reality. Most people faced it every day. Now, I was one of them. And by logic — or perhaps by stubbornness — I believed I should be able to do the same.

I tightened my grip on the sword's hilt — whether from nerves or the beginning of a new habit — and continued descending into the Dungeon's upper levels.

This was the life that awaited me. And from that moment on, it would also be my routine.