Charlotte's expression darkened as she sensed the severing of her soul bond with Valmonk. It could mean only one thing.

"He's truly gone."
"Kirik? Who’s gone?"
"Valmonk," Charlotte replied grimly.

Even as a ghoul, Valmonk’s body—once a Hero of Faith—was a top-tier asset. A single ghoul of his caliber could annihilate an average raiding party. Yet, he had fallen in just one strike. The reality of facing a Holy Sword-wielding hero was far more harrowing than Charlotte had anticipated.

"Are we... in deep trouble?"

Isabella’s pale face and trembling voice revealed the despair gripping her. If pity alone could save them, she might have stood a chance, but the raiding party had no room for mercy.

"We need to rework our plans."

Initially, Charlotte had laid undead traps underground to launch guerrilla attacks, hoping to confuse and slow the raiders. The dungeon's vast expanse and numerous traps should have made this feasible.

However, that assumption proved disastrously naive. The raiders had detected the undead immediately and regarded the traps as little more than minor obstacles, pressing forward with unnerving ease.

"Everyone needs to retreat to the 10th floor."

Spreading their forces across floors would only lead to piecemeal annihilation. Currently positioned on the 8th floor, Charlotte knew their only chance was to regroup and fortify a single, defensible chokepoint.

"The 10th floor is our last stand."

A heavily reinforced area, the 10th floor offered no alternative routes. By barricading its narrow passageways, they could potentially hold off the raiders long enough for the boss to return.

'But allowing them to reach the 10th floor... how could I ever face the boss again?'

Letting the invaders come that far would mean exposing the dungeon core—and with it, the boss himself. Charlotte gritted her teeth, loathing her own inadequacy.

"Isabella, evacuate the worker insects and the vampire thralls to the lieutenant’s quarters. They’ll be of no use here."
"Y-Yes!"

Charlotte’s remaining humanity prevented her from using them as mere cannon fodder. They would only serve as kindling for the raiders’ wrath, and she refused to sacrifice them unnecessarily.

"Let’s go."

They had no time to waste. But just as Charlotte turned to lead them downward—

Boom!

The ceiling above them collapsed with a deafening roar. Dust and debris rained down, enveloping everything in a suffocating cloud. The three scrambled, coughing and spitting, barely able to make out the silhouette that emerged from the haze.

A radiant light pierced the darkness, unmistakable in its identity. The invincible Holy Sword.

As the dust settled, Wilhelm stood tall, his blade raised, radiating an aura of divine judgment.

"Keeeak!"

Recognizing the threat, Balutak charged immediately, his insectoid instincts driving him to attack. Yet, his lack of awareness for the vast power difference sealed his fate.

Slash!

Wilhelm disappeared in an instant, reappearing only after a flash of light carved through the air. Balutak’s chest was skewered by the Holy Sword, green blood oozing from the fatal wound.

"Kirik... K-kirik..."

Balutak staggered, his head tilting in confusion, not even comprehending the blow that had felled him.

"You dare bare your fangs at me, insect?" Wilhelm spat, lifting Balutak effortlessly by the throat with one hand. The insectoid’s legs dangled helplessly as Wilhelm's inhuman strength pinned him in place.

Squelch!

With a single swing, Balutak was cleaved in two, his upper and lower halves falling away in a cascade of green blood.

"K-Kirik..."
"Persistent little pest," Wilhelm muttered, flicking the blood off his sword with disdain.

"Y-You!"

Isabella, her voice trembling with fury, summoned her blood magic, launching razor-sharp projectiles toward Wilhelm. Yet the Holy Knight moved faster than her senses could track. Before she could react, his hand was already wrapped around her throat.

Crash!

With a brutal toss, he hurled her into the wall, leaving her limp and unconscious.

"Is your casting finished yet?" Wilhelm’s cold words were directed at Charlotte.

Dozens of dark projectiles surged toward him from behind, only to bounce harmlessly off his radiant armor. Charlotte’s black magic was powerless against the sanctified equipment of the Holy Knight.

In an instant, Wilhelm closed the gap, seizing Charlotte by the neck. Her breaths came in gasps as his steely gaze bore into her.

"You must be the necromancer," he said, his grip tightening slightly. "A human? Or perhaps a witch?"

Charlotte forced a bitter smile, despite the strain.
"Quite upset, aren’t you? Did you enjoy the gift I left for you?"

"You vile..."
"A reunion with your dear friend. Wasn’t it touching? My humble offering, and you seemed to relish it."

Wilhelm slammed her to the ground, his rage palpable.

"You won’t die easily. I’ll make sure your end is as excruciating as possible—tenfold the suffering of Valmonk."
"How kind of you. Do tell me how," Charlotte sneered, though her vision blurred from the pain.

A sharp agony shot through her, and she glanced down to see her right arm severed cleanly.

"Like this," Wilhelm growled, watching her writhe.

Charlotte laughed weakly, her voice defiant despite her injuries.
"I hope you’re enjoying yourself. Savor the moment."

Her strength waned, her sight dimming. But before she could lose consciousness entirely, the sound of metal echoed through the chamber.

"Commander, what’s that sound?"
Wilhelm and the knights turned toward the source of the clanging noise. The darkened corridor beyond revealed a figure stepping forward, eyes glowing with cold, blue light.

The knights’ tension spiked as Wilhelm’s jaw clenched.

The true boss of the dungeon had arrived.

Charlotte’s lips curled into a faint smile.
"The one you face is no ordinary dungeon boss," she murmured.

The Death Knight Barghor, exuding an overwhelming aura of dread, stood silently in the shadows.

"This dungeon... is the boss."

***

 

 

The Dungeon Boss Does It All

Watching Drabyule disappear into the portal, I turned back toward the familiar, shadowy depths of the dungeon. Despite its gloom, it felt oddly welcoming. Maybe it was the comfort of home, even for an undead like me. Darkness is a soft bed when you're made of decay.

"Haah..."

I exhaled a frosty sigh. Undead don’t get physically tired, but the mental exhaustion from my encounter with Rozesha was overwhelming. Compared to Kalandas, who was all business, Rozesha’s flirtatious touches had been a whole different level of draining.

"Quiet today."

The 10th floor was eerily empty. I wanted to find Charlotte as soon as possible. My hand gripped the Necronomicon, its ominous presence oozing potential. If anyone could appreciate its forbidden power, it was her. I half-hoped her usual impassive face would finally crack when she saw it.

My footsteps were unusually light as I climbed. Everything seemed to be falling into place: Rozesha’s 9th Legion was set to arrive in two days, ready to bolster our defenses. Let the heroes come. With her forces and the Necronomicon in hand, I could afford to be optimistic.

Boom.

A dull rumble echoed overhead, and I instinctively tilted my head toward the ceiling.

"...What was that?"

The sound came from either the 9th or 8th floor. At first, I thought it might be Balutak making a scene again.

Boom!

The ceiling shook violently, and unease crept up my spine. The repeated thunderous crashes blurred together, the sound indistinguishable from my heartbeat—if I’d had one. As an undead, my body was still, but the tension gripped me just the same.

Slowly, I ascended toward the source.

Boom!

When I reached the 9th floor, no one was there, only the rubble trickling down from above. The noise was clearly coming from the 8th floor.

A sinking dread settled in my gut. Could it be... a raid? Or had Kalandas launched an attack? The logical part of me suggested retreating to the boss room and barricading myself in. But I knew better. Avoidance wouldn’t solve the problem—it would only delay the inevitable.

I knocked my knuckles against my helmet, forcing myself to focus. Whatever was happening up there, I had to face it head-on.

Ascending to the 8th floor, I noticed the noise subsiding. Had the situation resolved itself? But as I drew closer, faint groans echoed through the darkness. One voice in particular was unmistakable: Balutak. And then Charlotte’s strained murmurs.

I froze when the scene unfolded before me.

Blood—green and crimson—splattered across the chamber. Balutak lay severed in two, his lifeless halves sprawled amidst the carnage. Isabella was unconscious, her crumpled form embedded in the wall. And Charlotte... Her right arm was gone, blood pooling beneath her as she clung to consciousness.

Surrounding her were dozens of knights clad in radiant armor.

Her gaze met mine, and a weary, almost triumphant smile curved her lips.

"This is your grave," she rasped. "The master has arrived."

...What the hell?

I barely had time to process her words before twenty sets of eyes turned toward me. A wave of tension swept through the knights. Some faltered, their gazes unsteady, while others clutched their weapons more tightly.

"Is that... the boss of this dungeon?"
"Commander..."
"Stay your blades!" the eldest knight barked. "No one moves without my command."

Despite his order, their focus remained fixed on me.

But I couldn’t move, either. My eyes locked onto the elderly knight at the front. His radiant sword gleamed with blinding light, and its aura alone froze me in place.

Wilhelm.

The Hero of Solari.

Why was he here already? It hadn’t even been a full day! My thoughts raced, spiraling into panic.

[Lv. 91]

Wilhelm’s level glared back at me. His awakened Holy Sword made him the equal of any of the Great Seven Dungeon Lords. Against an undead like me, his power was even greater.

As for the knights surrounding him, their levels hovered in the mid-to-high seventies—each a formidable opponent. And Wilhelm’s bloodlust radiated with a chilling intensity.

I wanted to run. Every fiber of my being screamed for me to flee. But deep down, I knew it was pointless. Wilhelm could kill me before I even took a step.

Then, my gaze fell on the Holy Sword in his hand.

[Awakened Solari Sunblade (EX)]
[Durability: ∞]
[Enhancement Chance: 1%]
[※ Caution: Failure will result in automatic destruction.]
[Enhancement Failure Cooldown: Reset]
[Enhance? YES/NO]

...My only chance.

I glanced at Charlotte, barely holding on, and at the knights standing between us. I had to act. If I enhanced the Holy Sword, could I bluff them into retreating?

But even if it worked, could I survive Wilhelm’s wrath afterward?

No. There was no guarantee.

The knights here were no ordinary rabble. Their resolve was unwavering, their discipline absolute. Unlike the mercenaries and novices I’d faced before, these men were prepared to die.

Whirrr.

Light gathered at the Holy Sword’s core, intensifying until it warped the space around it. Wilhelm’s murderous intent surged as he prepared to strike.

"Surrender to the Sun!" he roared, readying his blade.

No time to think. I had to gamble.

[Enhance Awakened Solari Sunblade (EX)?]
[YES]

I braced for the explosion. My plan relied on the sword shattering to undermine their morale.

[Congratulations! 1% enhancement succeeded! Awakened Solari Sunblade has been enhanced!]

...What?

I stared at the notification, disbelieving.

"Burn in the Sun’s light!" Wilhelm cried, lunging toward me.

The enhanced sword’s brilliance enveloped the room. I braced for death—but instead of striking me down, the blade stopped.

In my hand.

"...What?"

The sword rested in my grip, its radiant energy pulsing in tune with my own. The knights’ collective gasp filled the chamber as I struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

A new notification appeared.

[Awakened Solari Sunblade (EX) +1 (Bound)]
[Durability: ∞]
[Enhancement Effect: Increased stats and exclusive binding to the enhancer.]
[Bound User: Enhancer]

Bound. To me.

I looked up, meeting Wilhelm’s hollow, disbelieving gaze. Around him, the knights stood paralyzed, their resolve crumbling into confusion and despair.

The impossible had happened.

As the enhanced sword blazed even brighter in my hands, Wilhelm fell to his knees, his faith shattered.

"Why... Why would the gods forsake me?" he whispered.

"Because they’ve abandoned you," I said, my voice echoing with cold finality.