Technoblade in danmachi

Chapter 1: A Legend Reborn

The void was still and quiet, its silence heavier than the weight of a thousand battles.

Technoblade's last memory was of a grand arena, the cheers of spectators echoing around him as he fought with relentless precision. Victory after victory, his legend had grown, and so had the target on his back. His final moments were a haze of exhaustion and triumph, the world fading as he whispered his last words:

"Technoblade never dies."

And yet, here he was, floating in the abyss.

A voice—calm, melodic, yet brimming with power—pierced the silence.

"Warrior of the blade, your story is not over. Will you rise again?"

Technoblade frowned behind his ever-present mask. "Another battle? I don't do freebies."

"In this world, your strength will be tested like never before. A dungeon filled with monsters, gods who walk among mortals, and a city that thrives on chaos. Will you accept the challenge?"

He smirked beneath the mask. "A dungeon, you say? Sounds like home. Fine, let's do this."

---

Awakening in Orario

When Technoblade opened his eyes, he felt the sun's warmth on his face. His first instinct was to reach for his sword, but his hand found nothing but the rough fabric of a simple shirt. Sitting up, he took in his surroundings: cobblestone streets, towering buildings of stone and marble, and the unmistakable hum of life.

This wasn't the world he had left behind.

He looked down at his hands. They were smaller, younger. His usual strength felt muted, though not entirely absent. A breeze brushed against his face, and for the first time, he realized something was missing: his mask.

Technoblade touched his face, his heart skipping a beat. "No mask?!" He looked around, his eyes darting to a puddle on the ground. The reflection staring back at him was that of a young man, white-haired and wide-eyed.

The memories of this body hit him like a wave. Bell Cranel. A farm boy turned adventurer, armed with dreams of heroism but little else. The memories were vivid but felt like a story he'd read rather than a life he'd lived.

Technoblade's lips curled into a grin. "Alright, Bell. Let's see what we can do with this."

---

The City of Orario

Technoblade—no, Bell—strolled through the streets of Orario, blending in with the crowds of adventurers and merchants. His sharp eyes picked apart everything: the layout of the streets, the armors on display, the subtle hierarchy of adventurers.

"Gods walking among mortals," he muttered, recalling Bell's memories. "A dungeon filled with monsters and treasure. This city runs on power. Fine by me."

He passed by a group of adventurers boasting about their latest delve into the Dungeon.

"I took out a whole pack of kobolds on the fifth floor!" one of them bragged, his companions laughing and slapping him on the back.

Technoblade scoffed. "Kobolds? Please. Even farm animals are scarier."

Still, he knew his current limitations. Bell's body was quick and agile but lacked the raw strength he was used to. If he wanted to reclaim his former glory, he needed to train—and fast.

---

Meeting Hestia

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Technoblade found his way to a rundown church at the edge of the city. Bell's memories told him this was home—or rather, the home of his goddess, Hestia.

He pushed open the heavy wooden doors, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. Inside, a petite woman with black hair and bright blue eyes turned to greet him.

"Bell! You're back!" she said, rushing over with a warm smile.

Technoblade froze for a moment. Bell's memories painted Hestia as a kind but overbearing presence. Yet, seeing her now, he felt... oddly at ease.

"Yeah," he said, his voice steadier than Bell's usual stammer. "I'm back."

Hestia stopped, narrowing her eyes at him. "You seem... different. Did something happen in the city?"

He shrugged. "You could say that. Just realized it's time to stop dreaming and start working. The Dungeon's not going to conquer itself."

Hestia blinked in surprise. "Conquer the Dungeon? Bell, are you feeling okay? You've never—"

"I'm fine," he interrupted, meeting her gaze. "Better than fine. Trust me, things are going to change."

The goddess studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, but don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

Technoblade smirked. "Pushing myself is the only thing I know how to do."

---

Into the Dungeon

The first floor of the Dungeon was eerily quiet. Bell's memories had warned him of goblins and kobolds, but Technoblade wasn't worried. His grip tightened on the simple dagger in his hand—a far cry from the legendary weapons he once wielded, but it would do for now.

A goblin emerged from the shadows, its beady eyes narrowing as it hissed.

Technoblade tilted his head. "One goblin? That's it? Alright, let's make this quick."

The goblin lunged, claws outstretched, but Technoblade sidestepped effortlessly, driving the dagger into its side. It disintegrated into ash, leaving behind a small purple crystal.

He crouched down, picking up the crystal. "Dungeon drops, huh? Fancy."

Two more goblins appeared, emboldened by their comrade's demise. Technoblade's smirk grew wider. "Ah, reinforcements. Now it's getting interesting."

The fight was over in moments. His movements were precise, efficient—nothing wasted. Despite Bell's lack of strength, Technoblade's experience carried him through.

As he stood amidst the ashes of his enemies, he felt a flicker of satisfaction. This world's mechanics might be different, but the fundamentals remained the same: adapt, dominate, and conquer.

---

Reflection

That night, back at the church, Technoblade sat on the steps, staring at the crystal shards he had collected. Hestia had already fallen asleep, her soft snores filling the quiet space.

He turned the crystals off