"Why is she pink now?"

Charlotte’s level had shifted to hot pink in an instant. Truly fitting for someone nicknamed the Bone Witch.

Charlotte and Balutak stood silently by my side, guarding me without engaging in the conversation. Estijel, being a solitary entity, had no companions, so it was easy for the two of us to converse one-on-one.

When I raised my hand, a demon server approached with wine. Estijel cautiously accepted a glass after glancing at me.

"Let’s toast."

"T-To a toast..."

Clink.

As our glasses touched, Estijel brought hers to her lips. Being undead, I simply watched her drink.

“Cough! Hah! Guh!”

Was my gaze that unsettling? She hadn’t even drunk half the glass before choking and coughing, drawing more and more attention from those around us.

“Cough! Cough!”

Conscious of the stares, Estijel covered her mouth with both hands. Once she managed to regain her composure, she timidly glanced up at me.

"Um, Lord?"

"Speak."

"Forgive me if this is presumptuous, but... um, aren’t you worried this might hurt your reputation?"

As she pointed out, most of the surrounding levels were glowing with hostility. We hadn’t caused any harm—just exchanged a few words—yet their colors shifted constantly. It was clear how the 72 Dungeon Lords viewed Estijel.

"It doesn’t matter."

Their opinions didn’t concern me much. As long as I behaved appropriately in front of the other Abyssal Lords of the Seventh Palace, that was all that mattered.

"Uh... I’m really, really curious. Why are you being so kind to me?"

"You don’t like it?"

"No, no! That’s not it!"

"There’s no special reason. I simply see potential in you."

Good things come to those who wait. Estijel’s stock was bound to rise eventually.

"Potential? In me?"

"Yes."

She still looked doubtful, but whether she believed me or not was her choice. I had no intention of pleading for her trust.

"Anyway, if you ever need help, just let me know."

"...I do owe some debt to the Association."

Even as she brought it up, she glanced at me nervously, as if regretting her words. Eventually, she lowered her gaze.

"How much?"

"A-A little under a hundred million sel."

I couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh. For someone ranked 72nd, even that was probably a huge burden.

"I’ll settle it for you after this meeting."

"R-Really? Thank you so much!"

"Anything else? How are your dungeon’s defenses?"

"Uh... no one’s invaded yet, so I’m not sure."

That wouldn’t last long. A 72nd-ranked dungeon was always at high risk of being raided. Moving her to my dungeon might be a better option.

A solitary entity could easily relocate by extracting their dungeon core. In games, it wasn’t uncommon for single-entity bosses to move to another dungeon, occasionally resulting in two bosses sharing the same dungeon.

"Would you consider moving to the Faithful Mausoleum?"

"...Excuse me?"

"I’m asking if you’d like to join the Abyssal Seventh Palace."

Estijel froze at my question. Slowly, her pupils widened, and her mouth dropped open in shock.

"M-Me? Join the Lord’s—! Gah!"

Realizing she was drawing attention again, she quickly clamped her hands over her mouth.

"There’s no rush. Take your time and let me know by the end of this gathering."

"I... I mean... how could someone like me ever join the Abyssal Seventh Palace..."

At that moment, her level color shifted. The number 44 remained a deep black, but her level turned a pale green—a mix of fear and gratitude.

That alone was significant progress. It felt like earning the trust of a skittish puppy.

"There’s plenty of room for you. My subordinates would welcome you as well. Come whenever you want."

"Ugh..."

"Rank 72 dungeons are dangerous. Most rank 72 Lords don’t last more than a few days before being replaced."

Estijel had immense potential as a magic boss. With Charlotte’s guidance, she could flourish and climb the ranks. Who knows? She might even break into the top 50 within a month.

"She’d probably like it," I thought.

Once she got past her fear, Estijel would likely be glad.

Estijel was the quintessential shy outcast, yearning for friends. Her life of hiding was a desperate attempt to avoid the world’s cruelty, but in truth, she craved connection.

There was even a hidden detail about her personality in the game. If a player entered her dungeon unarmed, she would lower her guard and approach them. What she said next was unexpectedly heartfelt:

"Are you hiding too? If you want, you can stay here with me."

At first, most players assumed this was a trap—a clever trick by the developers. But her words were genuine.

"I’m just like you! We can be friends!"

If the player accepted her offer, her affinity score would rise, and she’d become a peaceful ally. Some players abandoned the main storyline entirely to spend time with her.

But I wasn’t one of them. I always entered unarmed, gained her trust, then betrayed and killed her. It was faster and safer, with no risk of taking damage.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me? I thought we were friends..."

Even her dying words were designed to tug at the player’s heartstrings. Combined with her realistic screams and expressions, she became infamous as a guilt-inducing boss.

"Still... how could someone like me..."

Estijel trailed off, her voice trembling. Seeing her in person made me feel a little guilty. I must’ve killed her hundreds of times.

"Well, now it’s the opposite."

This time, instead of killing her, I was in a position to protect her.

I placed my hand on her shoulder again, and she flinched.

"Being a solitary boss must be lonely."

"It is, but..."

"I’m a solitary boss too. I understand better than anyone."

Her breath caught as she looked up at me, wide-eyed.

"That’s why I have subordinates by my side."

"Th-That’s why?"

"Think positively about it."

At some point, the green in her level deepened, while the black faded. Nothing builds trust like shared experiences.

Tap. Tap.

The sound of something tapping the floor echoed. A hunched figure approached, leaning on an elderwood staff. It was Baba Yaga, the troll shaman ranked 8th.

Estijel sucked in a sharp breath as Baba Yaga drew closer. I silently fixed my gaze on him.

"You’re looking well," he croaked.

The cracked voice of the old hag was grating, steeped in displeasure.

Just as she was about to step into my space, Charlotte and Balutak moved to block her path. Only after I gave a nod did they both step aside in unison.

"What do you want?"

"Heh-heh... My apologies for the late introduction. I am Baba Yaga, the boss of the Swamp of All Diseases, ranked eighth."

Her level glowed a faint red—a blatant sign of hostility. My tone sharpened in response.

"Did you come just to introduce yourself?"

"Indeed. It would be an honor if the Lord of the Abyssal Palace would remember me."

Even as she spoke, her gaze stabbed toward Estijel.

"My, how fortunate you are. The Lord of the Abyssal Palace keeping company with something so... incomplete."

Estijel, already intimidated, shrank even further into herself. Baba Yaga had clearly been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I shielded Estijel behind me, tilting my chin toward Baba Yaga.

"Do you have a complaint?"

"Heh-heh, of course not. How could I ever dare to object to the will of the Abyssal Palace? In fact, your actions make much more sense to me now."

A twisted smirk played on Baba Yaga’s lips.

"I was curious about your reasoning for killing Gergore, but now I see—there was no reasoning at all, was there?"

It wasn’t just mockery; it was outright scorn. Before I could respond, voices erupted from my sides.

"Apologize for your insult, Baba Yaga. This is the Lord of the Abyssal Palace you speak to."

"Krik. Troll, your words are too sharp. This is my Great Chieftain you mock."

"And to think, your subordinates include a mere human lieutenant and an insectoid guardian. You truly do disgrace yourself."

Even though the difference between our ranks was only one, the gap between the Abyssal Seventh Palace and the eighth-ranked Baba Yaga was immense—easily the equivalent of ten or more ranks.

Knowing that, was this an impulsive act, driven by jealousy? Or was Baba Yaga emboldened by her faction? Perhaps it wasn’t even her own decision to behave this way.

"If the other Lords of the Abyssal Palace hear of this insolence, they will surely be appalled. Do you not realize the severity of your actions, esteemed one?"

To me, Baba Yaga looked like nothing more than a puppet, strings controlled by someone else. This provocation clearly carried the intent of Kalandas.

With Kalandas as her backer, Baba Yaga had little to fear from making enemies of the Abyssal Palace. After all, Kalandas was ranked fifth, two places higher than me.

Still, I couldn’t allow myself to cower in front of them.

"Baba Yaga, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Heh-heh, will you kill me as you did Gergore?"

She met my threat without so much as a change in expression. With Kalandas backing her, she didn’t flinch at my bravado. Letting this slide would only expose my weakness for all to see.

[Baba Yaga’s Elderwood Cursed Staff (A)]
[Enhancement Chance: 10%]
[Warning: Failure will result in the staff’s destruction!]
[Enhancement failure will reset the cooldown.]
[Would you like to enhance Baba Yaga’s Elderwood Cursed Staff (A)? YES/NO]

As long as things didn’t escalate to physical violence, I could manage this.

If I handled it like I had with Kalandas—using intimidation rather than confrontation—the momentum would shift back in my favor.

[Enhancing Baba Yaga’s Elderwood Cursed Staff (A)...]
[Congratulations! You have successfully enhanced Baba Yaga’s Elderwood Cursed Staff (A) with a 10% chance!]

…What?

The notification blinked mockingly before my eyes, as if ridiculing me.

[Baba Yaga’s Elderwood Cursed Staff (A) +1]
[Enhancement Effect: Minor increase to all stats.]

I had always expected that overconfidence in enhancement would eventually backfire, but I hadn’t imagined it would happen now.

A deep sense of failure sprouted in my chest. If not for my poker face, my inner turmoil would’ve been obvious. This was entirely my mistake. My reliance on enhancement had led to arrogance, and the consequences were gnawing at me.

Baba Yaga raised her staff, examining it before tapping it back on the ground with a bemused expression.

"Don’t take offense. This is merely advice."

"..."

"As a newcomer, perhaps the Lord of the Abyssal Palace is unfamiliar with its dignity. Allow an elder to guide you."

With the enhancement cooldown now locked for an hour, I lacked both the imposing presence of the other Abyssal Lords and the strength to resort to violence. Showing weakness would only embolden her.

I needed to handle this with words alone, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess. It felt as though a hammer had struck the back of my head, leaving me unable to think clearly.

"Do you wish to kill me? You’ve acted impulsively before. Go ahead. Kill me here in front of the other Lords and see how well that turns out for you."

"That’s enough."

Before I could respond, Charlotte stepped forward, her voice firm.

I silently prayed that she could buy me a moment to regroup.

"Apologize for your insolence immediately. If you cross this line, there will be no turning back."

"Are you threatening me? A mere human?"

"Krik. Great Chieftain is strong. Trolls cannot defeat him."

"You pathetic insects dare involve yourselves? This is not your place. Leave while you still can."

In the distance, a group of red-level bosses approached. They were members of Baba Yaga’s faction.

"This is not someone you can challenge. Apologize to my master immediately."

"Krik. Trolls taste good. I will evolve after eating you."

"If you’re not careful, you’ll end up dead."

"Kill me then. But you’ll die first."

"Enough."

"Who’s dying? You, lieutenant?"

By now, a dozen bosses had surrounded us, drawing the attention of everyone present.

A boss who hides behind subordinates loses all standing. For an Abyssal Lord, no disgrace could be greater.

But I was outnumbered, and my authority wasn’t enough to sway them. Kalandas’ schemes had trapped me.

What the hell do I do now?

I hadn’t expected Baba Yaga to push this far, nor for my bluster to fail so miserably. If the enhancement had gone differently, the situation might have been salvageable. But fate was never on my side.

My mind churned with curses, frustration boiling over.

Koo-goo-goong—

The heavy sound of stone doors opening snapped me from my spiraling thoughts.

Charlotte and Balutak glanced at me, their expressions tense.

Then came the announcement.

"The ruler of the Night-Filled High Castle, ranked sixth! The Queen of the Night, Valentina Roscha, graces us with her presence!"

My thoughts froze.

I instinctively turned toward the source of the voice.

[Lv. 81]
[Lv. 88]

Two figures flanked her—Drabyule, the vampire, and Karleon, the Dullahan. Between them walked a woman with fiery red hair.

Her every movement radiated an aura of majesty, an oppressive presence that commanded the room.

Her level, the source of her suffocating pressure, appeared.

[Lv. 93]

Her blood-red eyes locked onto mine, and her previously white level shifted instantly to a deep pink.

"Hello, darling. I missed you."

With her signature smile, Valentina Roscha waved at me, her fingers playfully fluttering.