"Remember," Evelyn said as she tapped at the console beside the tall, sleek dungeon door, "this isn't the standard entrance. You're entering from a custom route, so you can start anywhere. The monsters will react to your presence, not some static setting. Pick your difficulty. Make it harder if you want the most growth—but don't blame me if you cry halfway through."
Caelen gave a half-smile, brushing his fingers through his dark hair. "Noted. I'll try not to cry at all."
He stepped through as the door slid open with a quiet hum. Emma, standing just behind him, gave him a simple nod. He returned it, no need for words.
The door shut behind him with a soft hiss.
Emma lingered, staring at the now-closed portal.
"Will that entrance still connect with the normal flow?" she asked, her voice low.
Evelyn gave her a sidelong glance. "Yeah. He and Lucy are bound to meet. The system will merge the routes."
Emma stayed quiet. Her mind wandered toward the idea of that reunion—how Lucy would react. She barely knew the girl, but she could tell Lucy was sharp and hurting. That wasn't a mix that healed quickly.
Evelyn leaned against the wall, arms crossed, tapping her boot heel lightly. "Caelen's been making my days... interesting," she said, not sounding annoyed. "But I don't mind the chaos. As long as I get what I want."
Emma didn't answer. She wasn't sure what Evelyn wanted. That was one of many things she'd have to ask Caelen later.
"Alright, it will be your turn soon," Evelyn said, turning away from the portal. "You're not going through the same route. Timing won't let you. You'll take your own path and intercept later—assuming he survives."
Emma blinked. "Wait. You're saying there's more than one Floor One?"
Evelyn gave a tired sigh, rubbing her temple. "This dungeon isn't real, remember? It's artificial. But it borrows from real dungeon fragments. Think of it like a leash—you're holding onto multiple beasts you can't see. We connect pieces together. Every entrance is a different route, but the core structure always leads to the same convergence zones."
"That... kind of makes sense," Emma muttered.
"If it doesn't, too bad," Evelyn said. "I'm not explaining it again. Come on. We need to move. That girl's on the way."
—
Elsewhere in the dungeon complex
A flash of cold blue light lit up a private room. From it emerged two figures—one clad in tight black clothing with a featureless white mask marked by a wide, smiling face. The other wore casual clothes, her pale skin still tinted with faint lines of inhuman color, hair which had an icy blend. Lucille Desmire.
She hadn't said a word since they'd left the house.
After walking into a back alley, the masked woman—Silver—had activated a strange metallic orb pulsing with glowing blue veins. Now they were here, and Lucy looked stunned more than angry, for the first time in hours.
"What the hell was that?" Lucy finally asked, pointing at the now-dormant orb in Silver's hand.
Silver kept walking. "Teleportation. Not mine. Not for sale."
"That's not an answer—"
"It's the only one you're getting."
They reached a tall sliding door. It looked just like the one Caelen had entered minutes earlier. Silver turned, hand brushing the control panel, and looked directly into Lucy's eyes, which looked demonic, glimmering with subtle crimson shadows.
"If you want to feel normal again... step inside. Kill everything. It's a dungeon. That's how it works."
Lucy narrowed her eyes, stepping forward cautiously. "And what's stopping you from sealing me in there? Making me your slave, or some twisted test subject?"
"We don't have time for your family's politics," Silver said, tone as calm as ever. "They'll kill you regardless. Doesn't matter if you're corrupted or you side with them. You've seen how they move."
Lucy stared for a beat longer. "Then why help me at all?"
"Because someone I care about believes in the strength you have. You're useful to him. That's the only reason you're here."
It wasn't even a threat. It was a statement of fact.
Lucy felt the sting of it, but more than that, she felt how little magic was coming off Silver. Barely anything. And yet she stood there with total confidence, as if she didn't need it to win.
"I don't trust you," Lucy said flatly. "If this is a trick... if anything happens to me, or him, I'll find you. And I'll kill you."
Silver said nothing. Just nodded toward the door.
Lucy took a breath, stepped inside.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Silver pulled out her communicator and tapped in a short command. "She's inside," she told the woman on the other end.
"Good," Evelyn's voice answered. "Join us upstairs."
—
Inside the dungeon, a flash of blue
Caelen appeared in a wide-open stone cave, the air dense with the scent of old moss and metal. His boots crunched lightly on the gritty stone.
A holographic interface, different from his personal system, blinked into life before him.
[Select Difficulty]EasyModerateHardHell
He read them, tapping his chin.
"Normal won't push me. Hard might not be enough..." He glanced toward the shadows deeper in the cave. "Alright. Hell it is."
The moment he picked it, the floor pulsed, and a soft shift in gravity dropped him slightly downward into another chamber.
Bigger. Darker. This cave was massive—pillars of stone stretching up toward jagged ceilings, faint glowing moss along the walls. There was no time to admire it.
A snarl echoed from the left.
A hulking kobold stepped into view. But not just any kobold—this one was armored, holding a jagged steel blade, standing tall with a chest that looked like carved muscle beneath dark grey scales. Its horns were longer, and the eyes were glowing faint red.
"Oh... okay." Caelen drew his sword. "This isn't your grandma's kobold."
The kobold didn't wait.
It lunged the moment Caelen moved, its jagged blade slashing horizontally with unexpected weight and speed. Caelen ducked—barely. The steel howled past his cheek, grazing the edge of his hair.
"Shit!"
He stumbled back. His boots slipped on the gravel-like stone beneath him. The weight of the sword in his hands pulled his balance awkwardly, making every step feel like he was dragging a pipe rather than wielding a weapon. His hands screamed from gripping it too tightly. His stance was wrong. His posture was garbage.
And the kobold knew it.
It charged again, this time stabbing forward.
Caelen threw himself to the side—clumsily, like someone dodging a soccer ball in a hallway, not a blade meant to kill.
Clang!
He parried, but the impact numbed his arms. The recoil threw him halfway into a cave wall. The kobold hissed and followed without pause, its footwork quick, controlled—like it had fought dozens of rookies like him before.
Caelen groaned, scrambling back to his feet.
He breathed heavily. "Fuck, are you serious?"
The kobold slashed again.
Caelen deflected the blade but only by luck, not technique. It skidded off his sword and bit into the stone beside him, spraying sparks. Caelen flinched, then instinctively kicked the kobold in the chest—not to hurt, just to make space.
It staggered back half a step, more surprised than damaged.
Caelen panted, sweat now dripping into his eyes.
"This was a mistake," he muttered. "Damn it… damn it."
He glanced around the wide cave for something—anything—that could help. But it was just rocks, shadows, and the steady breathing of a monster that was barely getting started.
"Oh great," Caelen spat. "It's smart isn't it?… and I'm here just guessing!"
He rolled to the side as another swing came—then slipped, falling flat on his side. The kobold roared and slashed down—
CLANG!
Caelen threw his sword up just in time, both hands gripping it to block. Sparks burst above him. The shock traveled down his spine like a punch. His arms were jelly.
He kicked again, more desperate this time. It bought him seconds.
"Change difficulty!" he shouted, eyes darting. "Where's the setting? Does it show up after finishing the floor? Or nothing at all?!"
No answer. The system didn't care.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright again.
"I'm going to make her pay for this," he growled. "Evelyn should've warned me…"
He felt pain down his side now. Probably a bruise from when he hit the wall earlier. "Shit, that hurts so much."
For a moment, he considered it. The wings. The form. The demon inside.
Should I transform?
He glanced at the kobold again—its breath fogging lightly in the cold cavern air. It held its blade loosely now, confident, relaxed, pacing around him like a predator. Still watching. Waiting.
No… too weak to kill a kobold? And I'm going to transform just for that? That's… embarrassing.
He stood straighter, barely.
"I wonder if this place has cameras…"
His head slowly turned to the corners of the cave ceiling. "No… it has to, for protection. I hope Emma is not looking at me. Struggling like this…"
He lowered his blade, then adjusted his grip again—less like a baseball bat now, more like a fencer. He tried to remember what the knights back at the church had taught each other during drills. His body didn't know it, but he remembers it.
The kobold ran again.
He sidestepped. Poorly. It still nicked his shoulder.
But this time, he slashed blindly in return.
And the edge of his sword scraped against the kobold's arm. Just a scratch.
But a scratch was progress.
"Okay…" he said, panting. "Okay wait… that was progress."
Back in the observation room
Evelyn sat back in her chair, watching the display. "Huh."
"What?" Emma snapped.
Evelyn tilted her head, adjusting the angle on her screen. "He's... not good at this."
"Are you serious right now?" Emma barked. "You threw him into that thing and did not explain that hell mode! stuff to someone with no real combat experience!"
"He looked confident, and he is a demon, right?" Evelyn said, her tone light. "I thought the system's power and its enhancements would give him an edge."
Emma's fingers clenched at her side. "You thought? This isn't a game! He's not some simulation, he's not some AI test subject. That's a real person in there."
Evelyn didn't reply.
Emma's voice dropped. "If he dies here—"
"Then he dies," Evelyn cut in coldly. "Either here. Or from Lucy. Or her family. Or maybe even the church. You don't understand what he's stepping into, Emma. This world doesn't care if he's charming. It only respects power."
Emma glared. "Then make damn sure he doesn't die."
Evelyn didn't nod. But she said nothing more.
Back in the dungeon
The kobold came again, overconfident this time.
Caelen crouched instinctively, and this time he didn't just dodge—he slid to the side. The blade missed him, just barely, and the kobold over-committed.
Caelen twisted, put every drop of strength into his next motion, and slammed his blade forward with both hands.
THWACK!
The flat of the sword struck the kobold's shoulder, not the edge. He'd missed the cut entirely. But the blow was solid. Enough to make the monster grunt and stagger.
It spun to counter—but Caelen jumped back.
He was still breathing heavily. Still sweating buckets. His arms still hurt. But he hadn't fallen. Not this time.
And he was still standing.
"I'm not good at this," he whispered. "But I'm getting the hang of it."
The kobold hissed again and this time, it looked angrier.