NoveLight ™
Mugan Seventh Palace’s boss? That Death Knight?
To Lionheart, the Mugan Seven Palaces represented an untouchable dignity—something far beyond what a mere Death Knight could embody.
But no amount of narrow-minded arrogance could outweigh the situation unfolding before him.
The Death Knight, arms crossed and chin tilted upward, exuded an aura of calm dominance.
A cold sweat ran down Lionheart’s back as unease gripped him.
"Lionheart King, can you take responsibility for your words?"
The Death Knight’s voice shattered the oppressive silence.
What should have been a laughable statement became suffocating due to the overwhelming pressure radiating from the undead’s glowing eyes.
The Mugan Seventh Palace—formerly the Dungeon of Bango’s Abyss—had been conquered and renewed under a new master.
And that master was none other than the Death Knight before him.
Thud!
Lionheart slammed his forehead onto the table.
"I’ve committed a grave sin! My ignorance blinded me to the true master of the Mugan Palace!"
...
There was no immediate response—only silence.
Cautiously lifting his gaze, Lionheart found himself under the piercing, suffocating stare of the Death Knight.
"A grave sin, you say. If this alone is a grave sin, then what of your subordinate—the one who threatened to kill me and tried to carry it out? What does that make him?"
...What?
The Death Knight’s words made Lionheart’s own prior behavior flash before his eyes.
He realized the full extent of his insult. His subordinates hadn’t just failed to recognize the Mugan Palace’s master—they’d acted with open hostility.
His head spun, and darkness clouded his vision.
Expelled from his original dungeon, relocated to an unfamiliar territory, and now faced with the boss of the newly risen Mugan Seventh Palace—Lionheart could barely process the absurdity of his reality.
He wished desperately that this was all a nightmare.
"Lionheart King, the humiliation you subjected me to today will not be forgotten, even as time passes."
"My... my sincerest apologies—"
"Merchant. Speak. A lower-ranked dungeon dared to hurl threats and insults at a Mugan Palace. How should this be handled?"
"You may proceed with execution, or resolve the matter through negotiation. The choice lies solely with the boss."
The mention of execution drained the color from Lionheart’s face.
Hearing the word was one thing; feeling its weight in the air was another.
"Lionheart. Do you want to live?"
"Exalted Lord, I beg you—spare this wretched life!"
"First, bring me that."
The Death Knight gestured toward the golden pendant hanging around Lionheart’s neck.
A chill ran through him—it was his most prized treasure.
How had this undead spotted its value so quickly?
Still, no treasure was worth more than his life.
"H-here it is."
The Death Knight took the pendant and stood up.
Is it over? Lionheart exhaled in relief.
Though parting with the pendant stung, keeping his life was a small price to pay.
"This isn’t enough. Charlotte, as my lieutenant, share your thoughts on what comes next."
"Thank you, Boss."
"...What?"
Lieutenant? That human?
Ignoring Lionheart’s bewildered expression, the human woman seated herself in the chair across from him.
"I dislike wasting time, so I’ll get straight to the point. First, we’ll require compensation—a settlement of one billion cell. Frankly, that’s a modest amount, but thanks to our boss’s mercy, you’re getting off lightly. And secondly..."
For the next hour, Charlotte laid out demands, exploiting every possible weakness in Lionheart’s dungeon operations.
Her relentless negotiation drained him to the core, leaving him motionless, as though dead, unable to so much as flinch.
***
"This seems like a fair resolution—neither too harsh nor too lenient. If word gets out, your reputation as a boss will only improve," Charlotte remarked.
I’m not so sure about that. Feels like we went a bit overboard to me.
Still, the results spoke for themselves. Thanks to Lionheart, I managed to settle the dungeon’s debt and snag a valuable item.
[Lionheart King’s Golden Pendant (A+)]
Enhance this pendant? Not a chance. It already provided immunity to most debuffs just by wearing it. Gambling with its destruction would be insane.
My primary goal was recruiting Balutak, and while that was still pending, this unexpected gain wasn’t bad at all.
"Now we just need to take the Insectfolk worth keeping with us," Charlotte said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
And honestly, it was.
All thanks to Lionheart. By treating the Insectfolk like expendable slaves, he had unwittingly made everything easier for us.
What started as a simple recruitment mission had turned into a redemption arc for the Insectfolk.
If Balutak was the type to understand gratitude, he’d see us as saviors.
Of course, that was only speculation. Reality could easily differ.
So, what kind of scenario would make it easier to recruit Balutak and secure his loyalty completely?
I already had a plan.
Releasing all the Insectfolk in some grand gesture of liberation, like a wannabe Lincoln? That wasn’t even worth considering.
These were creatures that devoured their own kind. Liberation wouldn’t inspire gratitude—it’d probably just prompt a “So what?” response.
And pissing off the 14th-ranked dungeon boss wasn’t exactly on my agenda either.
I’d already wrung a settlement out of Lionheart, but anything beyond that would cross the line.
Interfering with his construction efforts by taking all the Insectfolk would only cause trouble.
Instead, I had a different method in mind.
"Boss, may I ask? Is there a specific reason you instructed Lionheart to work that Insectfolk to the brink of death?" Charlotte asked.
She was referring to Balutak, whom I’d deliberately singled out for near-lethal overwork.
"If I were to guess, you saw potential in that Insectfolk. You orchestrated his suffering to push him to the edge, knowing that salvation at the last moment would not only resolve his deficiencies but also make him wholly dependent on you. Am I correct in my assumption?"
...Wait, do I think the same way as Charlotte? A witch who literally enjoys skinning humans for fun?
I mean, yes, my Evolution Skill was a factor, but there was no way she could’ve known about that.
"Not entirely wrong, but not entirely right either," I replied, unwilling to fully align with her twisted reasoning.
The idea of sharing a similar thought process with her was oddly unsettling.
"Yes, I saw his potential. Yes, I orchestrated the situation. But you missed one crucial detail."
"And what might that be?"
"All living beings grow the most when they face death. The brink of death represents their limit. I pushed him to that edge to observe his breaking point and assess his growth potential in detail."
Wow. That came out like some groundbreaking insight.
In truth, it was nothing more than fanciful nonsense dressed up to sound profound.
"Ah, I see. My humble mind cannot hope to grasp the full extent of your grand vision, Boss. As your unworthy lieutenant, I am learning so much."
Great. She bought it. That’s all that matters.
Honestly, I had no desire—or ability—to analyze the growth potential of a dying Insectfolk.
I’m not a psychopath, and I certainly don’t have a kid’s morbid fascination with watching insects die.
But having said all that, I had to keep up appearances.
"And if this Insectfolk fails to meet your expectations, you’ll let him die, won’t you?" Charlotte asked, her tone calm but probing.
"...We’ll see," I muttered.
Let him die? Why would I do that?
Without Balutak, coming here would’ve been a waste of time!
***
The weak are consumed, and the strong devour them to evolve.
In the jungle of the Insectfolk, every moment is a relentless competition of life and death—a perpetual cycle of evolution.
For the weak, there is only one choice:
Be devoured or submit to the strong.
Balutak, leader of the Venomfang Tribe, had once been the most powerful among the Insectfolk.
While most Insectfolk lived solitary lives, Balutak had forced the weak into submission, forming a colony under his command.
He wasn’t just strong—he was cunning.
He knew how to manage and exploit his underlings, and as his colony grew, so did his strength and his ambition.
Balutak set a goal for himself: to subjugate all the Insectfolk and become the sole ruler of the jungle.
Any who resisted would be devoured, their strength fueling his evolution into the ultimate apex predator.
But his dreams were shattered the day the beastfolk from the Demonic Realm invaded his jungle.
"Ki-riik..."
A month had passed since the beastfolk had taken over the jungle.
A month since Balutak had been reduced to a slave.
The strong devour the weak or force them into submission.
The beastfolk were strong; the Insectfolk were weak.
But never had Balutak imagined such a fate for himself.
Even in defeat, he had expected to be devoured—anything but this.
Instead, he was worked to the brink of death every day, barely given enough food and water to survive.
At first, Balutak resisted. He tried to fight back and even escape.
But now, he couldn’t move without trembling, and the mere sight of a beastfolk holding a whip sent him into a panic.
Day by day, Balutak deteriorated.
His six clawed legs had lost their strength, his compound eyes wavered, and his vision blurred.
The once-great Balutak was now unmistakably weak.
But even in his weakness, he wasn’t consumed.
Instead, he was kept hungry, worked tirelessly, and left to waste away.
"Ki-riik... so hard..."
Today was worse than usual.
From sunrise to well past sunset, not a single drop of water or morsel of food had passed his mandibles.
He wasn’t even allowed a second of rest.
Crack!
The whip lashed out the moment he slowed, forcing him to continue.
"Ki-riik..."
Balutak could feel it—his life was nearing its end.
This wasn’t simply regression or weakness. This was death.
As his vision darkened and his consciousness faded, Balutak’s body slumped to the ground.
For a brief moment, he felt the cool touch of grass beneath him.
"Ki...riik..."
In his life, he had only ever longed for survival and evolution.
But in this final moment, new desires crept in:
Prey to hunt. Water to drink. Freedom.
Balutak closed his eyes, yearning to glimpse freedom before the end.
Shed your carapace.
A faint voice pierced the haze of his fading consciousness.
With it came a warm sensation that spread throughout his body.
Balutak’s senses sharpened, and his vision brightened.
He felt an undeniable change within himself. His body trembled with new energy, and his compound eyes shot open.
As someone who had evolved countless times before, he knew this feeling—it was the precursor to evolution.
Balutak couldn’t believe it.
Without consuming prey, without a single step forward, how could evolution even be possible?
And yet, his body began to heal, the evidence undeniable.
Lifting his gaze, Balutak’s compound eyes locked onto a figure standing over him.
It was the silhouette he had seen when he first collapsed, the one who had poured water over him.
"Ki-riik... skeleton..."
Even in his weakened state, his instincts told him the truth.
The skeleton before him was the one who had saved him, the one who had brought about his evolution.