[Status: Milestone Level 25 Reached]
[Current HP: 1,100/1,100]
[Hunger: 100/100 (SATIATED)]
[Mana: 450/450]
The Sunken Archive was a labyrinth of forgotten sins, but I had reached its end. Before me stood the Gate of the Scholar-King—a massive, circular door made of celestial bronze and inscribed with runes that hurt to look at. This wasn't a gate you could simply break. It was a gate that demanded a "Price of Entry."
And standing before that gate was the Sentinel.
[Dungeon Sentinel: The Archivist - Lvl 40]
[Status: Guardian of the Threshold]
The Archivist wasn't a man, nor was it a beast. It was a floating suit of hollow silver armor, surrounded by hundreds of rotating stone tablets that acted as a physical and magical shield. It didn't breathe. It didn't blink. It simply existed as a mathematical certainty that no monster would ever leave the Third Floor.
"Identification required," the Sentinel's voice echoed, sounding like a thousand pages turning at once. "Non-sapient entities are prohibited from the Upper Tiers."
"Non-sapient?" I vibrated, my iron plates rattling with a mix of fury and hunger. "I've eaten Mages who couldn't solve a riddle if their lives depended on it. I've outplayed Paladins and outstayed Elders. I am more 'sapient' than anything in this ink-stained grave."
The Sentinel's tablets began to spin faster. "Analysis: Iron-Bound Construct. Mimic Class. Classification: Vermin. Access denied. Termination protocol initiated."
I didn't wait for its 'protocol.' I was at the peak of my current form, and the *Divine Digestion* of the Inquisitors was still singing in my veins.
[Milestone 25: Evolution Initiated!]
[Selection Confirmed: The Holy Terror (Unique Path)]
This wasn't just a physical change; it was a conceptual one. My seven-foot iron body didn't grow larger; it grew *refined*. The jagged, rusted spikes inside me didn't disappear—they turned into polished ivory needles infused with golden mana. The embossed faces on my exterior stopped screaming; their eyes opened, glowing with a calm, terrifying white light.
But the biggest change was the *Morph*.
[Skill Evolved: Humanoid Partial Morph -> Mimicry: The False Flesh]
From the center of my iron doors, a "man" began to emerge. It wasn't a separate entity, but a protrusion of my core. A torso, pale and marble-like, grew from the iron, followed by two strong arms and a head with silver-white hair. I didn't have a face yet—just a smooth, porcelain surface—but the effect was chilling. I looked like an Iron Maiden that had birthed a god.
[Evolution Complete!]
[New Species: The Holy Terror (Unique)]
[Active Skill: Judgement Snap]
[Active Skill: Blink (Learned from Tome)]
"Am I 'vermin' now?" my new humanoid mouth spoke, the voice no longer a vibration but a clear, melodic tone that carried the authority of the 'Cursed Mark' I had conquered.
The Archivist didn't respond with words. It responded with a storm of stone tablets. They flew through the air like guided missiles, each one inscribed with an [Explosion] rune.
*BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.*
The ink-water erupted around me. In my old form, I would have been hammered into scrap metal. But I wasn't the "Hungry Box" anymore.
[Skill Activated: Blink]
I vanished. A split second later, I reappeared directly in front of the floating silver armor. My new humanoid hands, glowing with golden mana, gripped the edges of the Archivist's shield-tablets.
*CRACK.*
With a Strength stat reinforced by the Gear-Grinder Ogre's hydraulic essence, I didn't just break the tablets; I crushed them into dust.
"Termination... failure," the Sentinel droned, its silver hands glowing as it prepared a high-tier [Disintegrate] spell. "Logic error. Monster entity displaying 'Humanoid Logic'."
"I'm more than a monster," I whispered, leaning my porcelain 'face' close to the Sentinel's hollow visor. "I'm the thing that eats the logic."
[Skill Activated: Judgement Snap]
I didn't just open my doors. I didn't just bite. My entire frame expanded, the ivory spikes inside me glowing with a blinding brilliance. I didn't pull the Sentinel in; I *folded* the space around it.
The Archivist, a Level 40 Dungeon Boss, was sucked into my hollow interior. The silver armor screamed as the holy-infused acid began to melt its celestial bronze components.
*CLANG.*
I slammed my doors shut.
The struggle was violent. The Archivist tried to teleport out, but my *Iron Lock* was now reinforced with *Divine Grace*. For thirty seconds, I stood in the center of the Archive, my iron body vibrating violently, steam hissing from my seams as I digested a piece of the Dungeon's own security system.
[Internal Execution Complete.]
[Target: The Archivist has been Deleted.]
[Massive Achievement: Sentinel Slayer!]
[Experience Gained: 15,000 XP]
[Milestone Level 25 -> Level 28!]
[Devour Complete. Extracting Core Knowledge...]
1. [Passive Gained: Warden's Authority - Lower-tier monsters will no longer attack you unless provoked.]
2. [Skill Gained: Gate-Breaker - You can now bypass Dungeon Locks up to Tier 4.]
3. [Identity Gained: The False Human - You can now craft a permanent 'Human Face' for infiltration.]
I stood before the Scholar-King's Gate. It no longer looked intimidating. It looked like a lid that needed to be opened.
I reached out with my humanoid hand and touched the celestial bronze. The runes flared, then turned from red to a submissive gold. The gate groaned and began to rotate, revealing a spiraling staircase that led upward—not deeper into the dark, but toward the "Residential Tiers" where the humans actually lived.
I looked down at myself. I was a monster, yes. But with a cloak and a bit of effort, I could look like a Knight. I could look like a Traveler. I could walk into a town, sit at an inn, and wait for the "Food" to come to me in a warm, cozy bed.
The "Stalking" phase was over. The "Infiltration" phase was beginning.
"It's time to see the sun," I said, my porcelain face finally shifting.
Two eyes formed on the smooth surface—golden and piercing. A mouth followed, curved into a sharp, hungry smile. I looked like a handsome young man of twenty, but if you looked too closely at my "skin," you could see the faint, rhythmic pulse of iron gears beneath the surface.
I stepped onto the stairs.
[Arc 2: The Hallway Stalker - COMPLETED]
[Current Level: 28]
[Next Rank: Tier 2 - The Living Dungeon]
Behind me, the Sunken Archive fell into a deeper, permanent silence. I had eaten its guardians, its books, and its secrets.
As I climbed, I felt the air change. It was no longer damp and stale. It was fresh. It smelled of pine trees, woodsmoke, and the distant, bustling life of a city.
The humans thought the Dungeon was a hole they could raid for profit. They thought they were the ones doing the "farming."
They had no idea that the "Crop" had just grown legs, put on a face, and was coming to harvest them.
*Klak. Klak. Klak.*
My iron-soled boots hit the marble of the upper levels. I wasn't a chest anymore. I was a man carrying a coffin. And God help anyone who asked me what was inside.