Technoblade in danmachi

Chapter 2: Mining for Victory

The morning light streamed through the cracks in the church's walls, illuminating the dust motes that floated lazily in the air. Technoblade sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening the dagger that hung loosely from his belt. His young, white-haired reflection in the blade still felt foreign, but his mind was clear.

If he was to face the Dungeon's depths, he needed more than determination. He needed armor—strong, reliable, and uniquely his. Bell's memories suggested scavenging materials from monsters, but Technoblade had a different plan.

In his old life, he'd mined every type of material imaginable—iron, gold, diamonds—and forged gear that could withstand the harshest battles. He recalled the familiar thrill of delving underground, pickaxe in hand, carving his path through the world itself. The Dungeon was no ordinary mine, but it was worth testing if this world's depths hid the same treasures he once knew.

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A New Goal

"Hestia," he said as the goddess emerged from her small corner of the room, still groggy.

"Bell? You're up early again," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "What's the rush this time?"

"I need ore," he replied, tucking the dagger into his belt.

Hestia tilted her head. "Ore? For what?"

"To make armor. Monster drops are fine, but nothing beats crafted equipment. If I can find some decent veins down there, I'll be set."

She frowned. "Bell, the Dungeon isn't exactly known for ores. Most adventurers just—"

"I'm not like most adventurers," he interrupted, his voice calm but resolute. "Trust me on this. If there's anything useful in those walls, I'll find it."

Hestia hesitated but ultimately sighed. "Fine. Just be careful. And don't overdo it, alright?"

Technoblade smirked. "Overdoing it is the plan."

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Into the Depths

The Dungeon's familiar cool air greeted him as he stepped into its labyrinthine corridors. The walls, made of smooth stone, seemed unyielding at first glance, but Technoblade's practiced eye caught faint glimmers in the cracks—tiny hints of minerals buried within.

"Looks like you're hiding something," he muttered, pulling out a sturdy pickaxe he'd purchased the previous evening. It wasn't much compared to the tools he'd used in his old life, but it would do for now.

The sound of the pickaxe striking stone echoed through the corridor, sharp and rhythmic. At first, nothing happened. But after a few minutes, a chunk of stone crumbled away, revealing a dull metallic ore beneath.

"Iron," he said, grinning. "Looks like some rules of the universe still apply."

He mined the vein with practiced efficiency, collecting enough iron to fill a small pouch. But iron alone wouldn't suffice. If the Dungeon truly mirrored the worlds he knew, there had to be more.

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Encountering Resistance

As he delved deeper, the monsters came in waves. Goblins and kobolds emerged from the walls, their growls echoing ominously.

Technoblade didn't falter. With the iron pickaxe in one hand and his dagger in the other, he dispatched the creatures with precision. A kobold lunged at him, claws outstretched, but he sidestepped, driving the dagger into its side. Another goblin tried to flank him, only to be met with a swift strike from the pickaxe.

The defeated monsters dissolved into ash, leaving behind crystals and fragments of fangs. He pocketed them absently, his focus still on the walls.

Further in, the stone began to change, shifting to a darker hue. The air grew warmer, and faint veins of glowing red streaked through the walls.

"Redstone," he murmured, running a hand over the glowing lines. "Not the most practical for armor, but it's here. That means there could be..."

He swung his pickaxe again, this time with more force. After several strikes, a piece of shimmering blue ore fell to the ground.

"Lapis lazuli," he said, chuckling. "Not what I was hoping for, but we're getting closer."

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Striking Gold

An hour of mining and fighting brought him to a larger chamber. The walls here were different—darker, almost black, and streaked with golden veins that glittered faintly in the dim light.

"Gold," Technoblade muttered, his heart quickening. He swung his pickaxe, breaking off chunks of the valuable ore. It wasn't as strong as iron, but it had its uses—enchanted accessories, for one.

As he worked, the ground beneath him rumbled. He froze, gripping his pickaxe tightly. From the shadows, a hulking figure emerged—a large ogre, its club dragging across the floor.

"Well, this is new," Technoblade said, smirking.

The ogre roared, charging at him with surprising speed for its size. Technoblade dodged the first swing of the club, the impact sending tremors through the ground. He circled the creature, analyzing its movements.

"Big and dumb," he muttered. "Perfect."

The ogre swung again, but this time, Technoblade darted forward, slashing at its exposed leg. The creature howled in pain, staggering. He didn't let up, attacking its other leg to cripple it.

With the ogre kneeling, Technoblade climbed onto its back, driving his dagger into the base of its skull. The creature let out one final roar before dissolving into ash, leaving behind a massive crystal and a chunk of blackened ore.

He picked up the ore, inspecting it. It was heavier than iron, its surface faintly glowing.

"Obsidian," he said, grinning. "Now we're talking."

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The Ultimate Find

With his pouch nearly full, Technoblade decided to push a little further. His instincts told him there was more to find.

Deeper into the chamber, the stone gave way to something extraordinary. A vein of brilliant, sky-blue crystals jutted out from the wall, their glow lighting up the entire room.

"Diamonds," he whispered, awe creeping into his voice.

He swung his pickaxe with precision, breaking off several chunks of the precious ore. Each strike felt like reclaiming a piece of his old life, a reminder of the power he once wielded.

As he collected the diamonds, he couldn't help but chuckle. "This world has no idea what's coming."

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The Return

By the time Technoblade emerged from the Dungeon, the sun was setting, painting the city in hues of orange and gold. His pouch was heavy with ore: iron, gold, redstone, lapis lazuli, obsidian, and diamonds. It was more than he'd hoped for, and enough to craft armor that would set him apart from any other adventurer.

Back at the church, Hestia greeted him with a mixture of relief and exasperation. "You're back late again! What did you even—"

He opened the pouch, spilling its contents onto the table.

Hestia's jaw dropped. "What... is all this?"

"Materials," Technoblade said simply. "For armor."

She stared at the glittering pile of ore, then back at him. "You're unbelievable."

He smirked. "You haven't seen anything yet."

As the night wore on, Technoblade began sketching designs for his armor, his mind racing with possibilities. The Dungeon had proven to be a treasure trove, and he intended to use it to its fullest.

This was only the beginning.