Charlotte sighed as she watched Balutak and Isabella goofing off.

“Kirrik. Vampire, you’re funny. Keep talking.”
“No, it’s just that Balutak is such a good listener.”
“Kirrik. Vampire lived in the forest. Balutak also lived in the forest. We look different, but we are the same.”
“Hehe.”
“Feelings. Vampire, if you want, you can drink Balutak’s blood.”
“Uh, no thanks.”

While the other insectoids worked and the vampires stood guard on the upper levels, these two were slacking off. For supposedly being part of the dungeon’s leadership, their carefree attitude left much to be desired.

Though Charlotte knew she wasn’t perfect herself, she still felt a step above these two.

Was this really one of the Seven Abyssal Palaces? It hardly lived up to its notorious reputation. Without the boss, the dungeon was a sitting duck for a Hero’s strike force.

“All we can do is wait for the boss to return.”

Embarrassingly enough, they had to rely entirely on the boss until the others grew strong enough to carry their weight. For now, the dungeon was practically defenseless.

Sure, Charlotte alone could fend off most strike forces, but if a Hero-led team invaded, it would be an entirely different story.

Buzz.

A faint vibration from her pocket broke her train of thought. Charlotte froze, immediately understanding the meaning behind it.

It could only mean one thing: the magical security system at the entrance had detected an intruder.

Pushing aside her unease, Charlotte pulled out the crystal orb. Surely, it was nothing. Maybe a wild animal or a scouting party. There was no way they could’ve known the boss was away and decided to strike now. It was practically impossible.

“…Oh no.”

The crystal orb revealed paladins marching in formation. Their silver armor, partially hidden beneath their cloaks, gleamed faintly in the shadows. At the head of the group, an elderly man wielded a radiant sword that illuminated the darkness.

Of all times—why now, when the boss was gone?

Despair was a waste of time and energy. Charlotte forced herself to stay calm and continued observing the strike force’s movements through the orb.

“Everyone, stop messing around. Get ready immediately.”
“Kirrik?”
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“A strike force has breached the dungeon. And not just any—this is a Hero-led strike team.”

Isabella’s face turned pale as a sheet.
Balutak scratched his head in confusion, prompting Isabella to burst into a flurry of panicked explanations.

Leaving the task of informing Balutak to her, Charlotte turned her attention to summoning reinforcements. She called forth Golgori and Valmonk, along with every undead she could muster.

She briefly considered requesting help from the merchant’s guild but dismissed the idea. That would mean incurring more debt, and she’d already borrowed the maximum allowable limit—one billion cell. Though she had repaid it, asking for such a large loan again within the same month was unrealistic.

Even if they agreed, constantly relying on the merchant’s guild would utterly ruin the dungeon’s reputation as one of the Seven Abyssal Palaces. This battle would have to be won with their current resources.

“Boss, this time, I’ll prove myself where I failed before.”

Every crisis was also an opportunity.

This was her chance to redeem herself against another Hero—Wilhelm, just like with Valmonk. Though the odds of success were slim, they weren’t nonexistent.

If she could triumph here, perhaps the boss would finally recognize her worth. Maybe she could even indulge in some well-earned leniency.

“But if I fail this time…”

Then death at the hands of the Hero awaited her. Even if the boss returned to save her, someone as useless as she would no longer deserve a place in the dungeon.

No, this time she had to make it count. Charlotte clenched her fists, silently vowing not to let the opportunity slip through her grasp.

*

The Castle of Resonance stood deep within the demonic realm, specifically in the Second Hell, Kalasutra Duchy. As expected of such a place, the environment itself was hostile to normal living beings.

Take, for instance, the duchy’s terrain—lava periodically erupted from the ground, and even the air itself was toxic. It was a realm unfit for life.

Among the seven great territories of the demonic realm, Kalasutra was often described as the Hell of Eternal Night. Thick black and gray clouds perpetually obscured the sky, allowing not a single ray of sunlight to break through. At the very peak of the highest mountain stood a majestic and aloof castle—the Castle of Eternal Night.

It was a place where servants of the night thrived in endless darkness, and it was the reason Rosecha was called the Queen of the Night.

‘Just like I remember it.’

The castle, as imposing as ever, had no windows—neither on the first floor nor any of its other levels. Only faint light emitted from antique chandeliers, casting minimal illumination.

The hallways were lined with endless red carpets, and towering columns flanked every corridor. Mounted on the walls were the preserved heads of enormous beasts, placed there seemingly without reason other than to inspire awe or dread.

‘And those… they’re living armors.’

What appeared to be decorative suits of armor were, in reality, Living Armors—souls without bodies, bound to these metal shells. In the game, many new players met their end at the hands of these very armors, mistaking them for harmless decor until they were ambushed.

And then there was the fountain in the grand hall.
A blood fountain.

Its deep crimson hue and the thick, metallic scent of blood that clung to the air made its purpose unmistakable.

The first floor of the castle mirrored its game counterpart in structure, but the sheer scale and detail here were leagues beyond what could have been rendered in graphics.

The faint scent of night flowers mingled with the blood in the air, a smell I somehow recognized even as an undead.
Why did undead have a sense of smell, anyway?

“Aahhh~!”

“…”

The castle truly lived up to its name—The Castle of Resonance.
From behind the doors of every room on the first floor, moans of ecstasy echoed out. Occasionally, I caught glimpses of human corpses, their drained and withered forms resembling victims of some horrific illness.

At least they hadn’t been torn limb from limb like in other dungeons. If this could be called mercy, it was mercy in its strangest form.

‘Boss, this guy is smiling over here.’

I averted my gaze from the unsettling grin frozen on one corpse’s face and focused on Gerold’s back as I followed him.

Eventually, Gerold stopped.

“We present His Eminence.”

A vampire I hadn’t noticed before now appeared before me, bowing deeply. At this, Gerold gave me a small nod and left, leaving the vampire to lead me the rest of the way.

[Lv. 81]

The vampire’s level was significantly lower than Gerold’s, but that was only in terms of raw stats.

Once I nodded in acknowledgment, the vampire straightened.

“I am Valentine Drabule, an aide to Her Majesty the Queen. It is my honor to guide the new Lord.”
“If you’re guiding me, why didn’t you come in the first place?”
“I am bound to the castle and cannot leave its grounds without Her Majesty’s permission. I apologize for the inconvenience but had to rely on Gerold’s assistance.”

I knew exactly who Valentine was—the Count Drabule, one of Rosecha’s masterpieces. Though weaker than the Watchmen, he was not someone to be underestimated. In the game, aside from Rosecha herself, Drabule was the trickiest opponent to face. A brilliant tactician, he was a master of traps and cunning.

We walked in silence after that. Whether it was because Drabule preferred quiet or because I was too overwhelmed by the castle’s atmosphere, I couldn’t say.

‘Is this what a real Abyssal Palace looks like? Then what the hell is our dungeon?’

The difference in scale and grandeur was so stark it made me feel insignificant. Comparing the two was almost laughable.

I worried about running into any Watchmen as we climbed higher levels, though none appeared. My anxiety wasn’t unfounded—it wasn’t any specific reason, just the sheer intimidation of their presence. Standing before beings who could crush me like an insect was enough to make anyone nervous.

“We greet the new Lord of the Abyss.”

[Lv. 84]

Finally, on the seventh floor, I encountered my first Watchman. Their appearance was grotesque—a face that seemed to fuse elements of a succubus and an incubus, reminiscent of something between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The androgynous nature of the being triggered an instinctive sense of unease.

With a dismissive wave, I signaled to move on, wanting nothing to do with them.

We passed the ninth floor without issue—until suddenly:

“We greet His Eminence.”

[Lv. 88]

Standing before me now was a Dullahan holding its own head in one hand, the severed neck glowing faintly with eerie light. Even by level alone, this being was far stronger than the Watchmen.

If Drabule was Rosecha’s left hand, this Dullahan was her right—a mid-boss in the dungeon’s hierarchy. Formally, he called himself the Queen’s Sword, though he had once been one of the Empire’s original Four Heroes. Now, he served Rosecha in eternal undeath.

‘Why did it have to be him?’

The moment I saw him, I instinctively avoided his gaze. Getting on his bad side would mean annihilation.

“New Lord, would you do me the honor of sparring with me?”

I had half-expected this, but hearing it out loud still caught me off guard.

This guy had been a swordsman through life and death, dedicating himself entirely to the blade. And as a Death Knight, I was bound to pique his interest.

I quickly shot a glance at Drabule, signaling for him to intervene. Thankfully, he caught on and stepped forward.

“Sir Karleon, His Eminence must meet with Her Majesty. This is not the time for sparring.”
“Hmm… Ten seconds wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
“This is not about time. How could you think to duel Her Majesty’s guest? If you’re so idle, perhaps you could patrol the floors. The Watchmen have grown lax.”
“Is that so? Then I’ll handle it personally.”

Apparently, Karleon also acted as the castle’s enforcer. Thankfully, he turned and descended to the lower floors, leaving me and Drabule to continue upward.

At the final staircase, Drabule stopped and bowed.

“From here, only the Lord may proceed.”
“I understand.”

Beyond this door, Rosecha awaited.

Leaving Drabule behind, I stepped onto the crimson carpet, approaching the faintly visible door to the boss room.

It felt like I walked forever—each step stretching seconds into minutes.

The figure waiting beyond that door was not a puppet, but the true body of Valentia Rosecha, the Abyssal Palace’s queen. The memory of my first meeting with Callandas surfaced, sending chills down my spine.

‘Don’t lose your nerve.’

Though I was undead and couldn’t physically show emotion, my mind was a chaotic storm. If I stuttered or stumbled, I’d lose everything before I could even begin negotiations.

Temporary alliance, full support, and maybe even the Necronomicon—I needed to press my luck.

Standing before the door, I clenched the handle.

“…Damn it.”

My hand trembled. I hadn’t realized even undead could be this affected by nerves.

To push the anxiety away, I forced myself to think of something else. Rosecha’s most infamous bit of lore came to mind—a hot topic once debated endlessly online.

“Is Rosecha a virgin?”

The controversy had started when some players—particularly “unicorns”—argued that the Succubus Queen claiming to be a virgin was a contradiction. Her in-game dialogue about her purity had stirred heated debates in the community.

The uproar became so intense the developers issued an official statement:

“Yes, Rosecha is a virgin. She has only experienced such things in dreams, so physically, she remains pure.”

By strict interpretation, her body was virginal, but her mind and spirit were far from innocent. Hardcore purists had complained, but most players thought it was a win. I was in the latter camp.

‘Right. She’s a virgin succubus.’

Oddly, the thought steadied me. My hand stopped shaking, and my nerves settled completely.

Exhaling a cold breath, I pushed open the door.