I pulled myself over the top of the boulder and rolled onto the other side, boots landing in something soft and damp. I turned immediately and reached down, gripping the brute’s forearm first.

  His weight nearly dragged me forward again, stone grinding under my boots as I strained, but with a guttural effort he climbed over.

  Greed followed with far more grace, fingers barely seeming to touch the rock as he scaled it and dropped beside us like a silent shadow reclaiming its place.

  Then I looked up.

  The scene ahead of me was horrific.

  No. Horrific was too mild.

  As a matter of fact, it was too clean of a word.

  And at this point, you can call it ‘devastation sculpted into flesh’.

  Human corpses lay scattered across the clearing in grotesque disarray. Some were sprawled face down in the mud, fingers dug into the earth as if they had tried to crawl away. Others were twisted onto their backs, rib cages cracked open, hollowed out like emptied vessels. Armor was torn apart; cloth was shredded. Weapons lay abandoned, snapped in half or embedded uselessly in the dirt.

  And some of the bodies… some were not fresh. They were decomposed. This was what made me curious.

  Skin had darkened and tightened against bone, and eye sockets were hollow caves. The scent was overwhelming, a suffocating blend of rot, dried blood, and something sweet and sickly that clung to the back of my throat.

  Flies buzzed lazily over blackened wounds while maggots writhed in clusters where flesh had begun to surrender to time.

  This was not a recent massacre. This had been happening for a while.

  A wooden pole stood near the edge of the clearing, tilted slightly as if it too had grown tired of standing upright in this cursed place. Nailed to it was a carved sign, weathered but still legible.

  I stepped closer, wiping my blood coated hand against my shirt before brushing dirt from the surface.

  “Aves’ Perch,” I muttered under my breath.

  The name felt familiar. Unique. I’ve heard this before… The words scraped against my memory until something clicked. The book. If my memory served me correctly, Aves’ Perch was located in the North Reg-

  The thought cut off so sharply it felt like something had physically struck me.

  Shit. The warden. She had told me clearly: Avoid the North Region.

  Her voice had been firm, not a suggestion or an advice like we were buddies, but a warning. So how the fuck did I end up here?

  I stared out across the clearing again, my pulse starting to throb behind my temples.

  The dungeon gate I entered had been nowhere near the North. It should not have led here.

  Gates were unstable and unpredictable sometimes, but not to this extent. This wasn't merely a minor deviation.

  Was the gate corrupted? Manipulated? Or was I dragged here on purpose? Questions began stacking inside my head faster than I could sort them.

  Wait.

  Wait.

  Wait.

  I pressed my fingers against my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment as a dull ache began to bloom behind them. Think. But the more I tried to piece it together, the worse the headache became.

  The horn.

  The goblins.

  The Rank B notification.

  The human corpses.

  The North Region.

  The warden’s warning.

  None of it aligned neatly. None of it made sense.

  I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to breathe through the metallic stench saturating the air. Focus on what matters. Survival. That came first. Always. Theories and questions would not keep my throat intact, and panic would not shield me from whatever had done this.

  The first priority was to survive.

  The second was to leave safely.

  And in order to leave a dungeon, I needed to kill the boss. That was the rule. The system’s rule.

  Kill the boss, clear the dungeon, exit opens. Simple.

  But then another thought rose, colder and far more unsettling. But if I kill the boss… how would that even make sense?

  I slowly turned in a circle, scanning the treeline beyond the clearing. The sky above was not warped like a dungeon sky; there was neither artificial distortion nor a shimmering boundary. The wind felt real. The decay felt real. This was not an enclosed instance. This was a location, yes, a real one.

  After killing a boss, the dungeon collapses. The space dissolves, and you are expelled back to reality. But this… this already was reality.

  The mud beneath my boots was real earth. The corpses were real people. The sign was part of an actual settlement.

  So if this was reality… then what the fuck was the dungeon?

  Or worse.

  What if the dungeon gate didn’t bring me into a dungeon at all…

  My stomach tightened.

  What if it brought the dungeon into reality?

  The thought had barely settled in my mind when something sliced through the air beside my head. A sharp whistle. A violent thud. An arrow buried itself into the dirt a few inches to my right, so close I felt the tremor of impact through my boot.

  My body reacted before my mind did. I dropped low and sprinted.

  Another arrow tore past me, grazing the air near my shoulder. Then another. And another. I did not stop to count. I dashed straight into the nearest building, shouldering the door open and throwing myself inside. The structure groaned under the sudden force, dust falling from the ceiling as I slammed it shut behind me.

  For half a second, there was silence. Then the windows exploded inward.

  Arrows punched through the wooden shutters in a vicious barrage, splintering planks and embedding themselves into walls, tables, and beams. One shot narrowly missed my head and sank into a support pillar with a dull, vibrating hum.

  Fuck.

  At first, I had assumed one or two archers were taking opportunistic shots. I was wrong. A dozen more arrows rained down from outside, striking the windows in relentless succession. The sound was chaotic: wood cracking, glass shattering, and feathers rattling. This was far from random panic fire; it was a coordinated assault.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Then came the worst one. A sudden ripping sound above me.

  The roof split open as an arrow punched straight through the wooden boards. Its tip burned bright orange, flame dancing violently at the arrowhead like a starving spirit finally given fuel. It struck the interior beams.

  And the building ignited instantly.

  Fire spread with terrifying speed across the dry wood, flames licking upward along the walls and devouring everything they touched. Heat slammed into my face. Smoke curled downward, thick and choking, turning the air into something heavy and poisonous.

  “Shit!”

  I covered my mouth with my sleeve and bolted toward the back of the building. The floorboards creaked under my boots as embers began to fall around me. Flames crawled along the ceiling like living creatures. I kicked the back door open and stumbled outside into the open air, coughing, eyes watering from smoke.

  Behind me, the building roared as it burned. I ducked low and sprinted along the edge of another structure, trying to pinpoint their location.

  There. Between the trees lining the outskirts of the clearing.

  Goblins.

  Several of them stood perched behind fallen logs and broken carts, bows raised and arrows nocked. Their small bodies were steady and focused—far too disciplined for the average goblin.

  Behind them stood something far more concerning. An elf.

  My gaze sharpened instantly. His robes were unmistakable. The cut, the embroidery, the color palette—even through the distance and the rising smoke, I recognized it. It was an outfit from the elf kingdom. Elegant. Structured. Authority woven into every thread.

  Why the hell is an elf mage working with goblins?

  His hands were raised in front of him, fingers spread wide as a sphere of swirling flame began to form between his palms. The fire was anything but ordinary. It pulsed, bright and condensed, heat warping the air around it. The flames spiraled inward rather than outward, compressing into something dense and devastating.

  Flame attribute. And not a weak one.

  The sheer size of that forming fireball made my stomach tighten. That’s not basic magic. I could feel it even from here. The pressure. The gathering of mana. It vibrated faintly in my chest like distant thunder building before a storm.

  He was almost finished. I did not hesitate.

  “Move,” I hissed to my soldiers, already sprinting toward the thicker section of trees.

  The brute followed immediately, heavy steps shaking the ground. Greed slipped into motion behind him, silent and fluid. We kept low, using the smoke and chaos as cover. Arrows continued to fly, but none tracked our movement.

  We had not been noticed. Not yet.

  I reached the treeline and pressed myself behind a thick trunk, breath steadying as I risked a glance back toward the town. The elf mage’s fireball was complete. It was enormous—larger than his torso—a blazing sphere of condensed destruction rotating violently in his hands.

  Then he thrust his arms forward. The fireball launched. It tore through the air like a miniature sun. In less than a single second, it struck the center of the town.

  The explosion was catastrophic.

  A wave of fire erupted outward in all directions, swallowing buildings whole. Roofs disintegrated and walls shattered. The shockwave rippled through the ground beneath my feet, nearly knocking me off balance.

  And then the flames spread. The entire town went up in fire. These weren't small scattered blazes; it was an inferno. Orange and red devoured everything. Smoke billowed into the sky in thick, suffocating columns. The sound was deafening: wood collapsing, structures crumbling, and heat roaring like a living beast finally unleashed.

  My eyes widened slightly as I watched it unfold. That wasn’t low tier. No, not even close.

  I had seen enough spells to estimate power levels with some accuracy. That was at least a level six spell. Minimum. And judging by the size and output, possibly even higher.

  Which meant the mage was not some random caster dragged into this chaos. He was strong. Very strong.

  The town was burning behind me.

  Flames climbed into the sky like furious hands clawing for the heavens, consuming rooftops, history, and whatever fragile peace had once existed in Aves’ Perch. The heat was still licking at my back even from this distance, the roar of the inferno echoing faintly through the trees.

  But I could not afford to stand there and watch a ghost town finish dying. Move.

  If there was any logic to this nightmare, if this truly functioned like a dungeon, then the boss had to be somewhere central. Somewhere strategic. And the most strategic location in this region would be the elves’ base.

  So I ran.

  Branches whipped against my arms as I pushed deeper into the forest, boots pounding against damp earth. The air grew cooler the farther I distanced myself from the flames, though smoke still threaded between the trees like a wandering spirit refusing to leave.

  There was a river ahead.

  I could hear it faintly at first—the gentle rush of flowing water cutting through stone. Freshwater. Clean. A brief moment of relief in the middle of chaos. My throat was dry from smoke, and my lungs still burned slightly from the building fire.

  I angled toward it. Then my boot came down on something brittle.

  Crack.

  The sound was sharp and obnoxiously loud. It split the forest silence open like a blade. I froze.

  Fuck.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then from the distance, I heard voices. Shouting. Orders barked with urgency. The direction of the sound pointed straight toward me. They had heard it.

  “System,” I murmured under my breath, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. My heart was beating faster now, but my mind had shifted into something colder. Focused. “Can I recall my units back?”

  [Yes]

  The response appeared instantly, hovering faintly before my eyes.

  “Oh alright. Uhmm. Recall?”

  The word left my lips quietly. Instead of a flash of light or a dramatic effect, the brute and Greed simply vanished. One second they were behind me; the next they were gone, as if erased from existence.

  I swallowed. Alone again.

  I scanned the forest floor quickly and spotted a deep pile of dry leaves gathered beneath a wide-rooted tree. Without hesitating, I dropped into them and pulled as much as I could over my body, flattening myself against the earth. The leaves were cold and slightly damp underneath the surface layer. They clung to my clothes and crept down my collar. I forced myself to remain completely still. Not even a twitch.

  Footsteps approached. Light at first, then heavier. Branches shifted. Armor clinked faintly. The scent of smoke and burnt wood drifted closer. They were right there. Close enough that I could hear the subtle rasp of breath from one of them.

  “Hey unit #492 have you found anything?” The very same mage who made the fireball yelled out to the goblin in front of me.

  His voice was unmistakable—calm, commanding, and annoyingly composed. The goblin standing not even three meters away from my hiding spot shook its head quickly. Its ugly green face twisted in frustration before it barked something incoherent back at the others.

  They shifted around the area, searching. I could hear boots scraping dirt and leaves being kicked aside. One wrong movement. One accidental breath too loud. And I would be dead.

  My lungs screamed for air, but I kept them shallow and controlled. My muscles began to ache from remaining tense for so long. My legs tingled. My shoulders felt like they were turning to stone.

  Time stretched. Every second felt like an hour carved into my bones.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity suspended in suffocating stillness, the footsteps began to fade. Branches snapped farther away. Voices grew distant. And then there was silence again.

  I did not move immediately. I counted slowly in my head.

  One. Two. Three.

  Only after I was certain they had truly left did I allow myself to exhale fully. Relief flooded through me so sharply it almost made me dizzy. Sunlight was beginning to dim, the golden glow filtering through the canopy slowly draining into darker hues. Evening was approaching.

  Good. Darkness would be my ally.

  If I was going to strike at the boss and get the hell out of here, night would give me the cover I needed.

  I pushed myself up slowly from the leaves. My muscles protested violently. They felt stiff and unresponsive, as if I had abandoned them for hours instead of minutes. Pins and needles stabbed through my calves as circulation returned.

  “Shit…” I muttered quietly.

  Even though they hurt like hell, I could not waste time. I flexed my fingers, rolled my shoulders, and forced movement back into my limbs. Then I began walking toward the direction the enemies had come from. Carefully. Quietly.

  The forest grew thicker in that direction. The trees stood taller, their trunks wider, and roots twisted like ancient serpents beneath the soil. The smell of smoke became stronger again as I advanced. Before long, my body felt loose enough to move properly. I transitioned from a walk to a light jog, weaving between trunks and stepping carefully over roots. My breathing evened out.

  Soon enough, I saw it. Heavy smoke rising in the distance, darker and denser than before. It spiraled upward in thick columns beyond the trees, marking the location like a beacon. I narrowed my eyes.

  Then it happened.

  Without warning, an overwhelming pressure slammed down onto me. It felt as if the sky itself had decided to sit on my shoulders. My knees buckled instantly and I crashed onto my butt, the impact sending a jolt up my spine. The air was crushed out of my lungs.

  I tried to inhale. Nothing.

  This wasn't like suffocation from smoke or simple panic; it was pure force. An invisible weight pressing against my chest, compressing my ribs and squeezing my lungs flat. I clutched at my torso instinctively, fingers digging into fabric as if that would somehow create space for air.

  “What the fuck…” I gasped silently.

  My vision blurred at the edges. I forced myself to look forward, to find the source. But there was nothing. No visible enemy. No spell circle. No mage in sight. Just trees and smoke.

  The pressure increased. My heartbeat pounded violently in my ears. Black spots began to dance across my vision.

  This isn’t normal.

  This isn’t mana pressure.

  My body felt like it was being crushed by something far beyond simple magic.

  I tried to crawl. To move. To do ANYTHING. My arms trembled uselessly. And then, in the very next second, everything went dark.

  I passed out.

  [Warning!]

  [Warning!]

  [More than s1xty dung_eon -gates hAve be-_en conv3rted into d_ng-on breaks in the Dung0en 10bBy. N3d 13ediat3…]

  [System Failure]