Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 41: Dungeon

Dungeons were strange places, appearing randomly in numbers during the previous war as dangerous rifts.

No one truly knew where they came from, only that they led to another dimension, one disconnected from the real world, a space of its own, with its own rules and nature.

Some believed dungeons were attempts by the Demon World to break into reality, gateways filled with hostile creatures. Others thought they were remnants of worlds conquered by the demons.

Either way, the records were clear: at the center of every dungeon, there was a boss, a powerful monster that kept the rift stable. Kill the boss, and the rift would collapse, sealing the dungeon permanently.

Bel stood on a rocky hill, overlooking a large cavern. In front of it, a swirling purple vortex pulsed with faint energy.

His first dungeon.

He studied the rift carefully, his red eyes narrowing behind his mask. This wasn't like the extermination quests he had taken before. Out in the wild, he could control the battlefield, use his fire from a distance, and avoid unnecessary fights. But inside a dungeon? That was different. The entire space was an enemy's territory, and this time, he wouldn't be alone.

"This should be interesting," he murmured to himself.

At the entrance of the cavern, a group of adventurers had already gathered. About ten in total, ranging from younger recruits to seasoned fighters.

Among them, he noticed a few rare sights: two dwarves, their stout figures armored heavily, and one elf. As he approached, he could feel their gazes turning toward him.

"As expected."

His presence, always.

A tall man, broad-shouldered and clad in thick plate armor, stepped forward first.

"Welcome, masked man. Looks like you're the last one." The man's eyes studied him briefly, before nodding. "I'm Garrik, Iron Rank. I'll be tanking for this raid."

Bel gave a slight nod in return.

"Bel. Copper Rank."

Garrik tilted his head slightly.

"Copper, uh? What's your job?"

"Hm... I don't really have one. I can fight and use a little bit of magic."

Garrik studied him for a moment before letting out a short chuckle.

"No job, huh? Well, that happens with newbies. Some people take time to figure out where they fit." He gave a small shrug. "But you should work on that quick. No one likes carrying dead weight."

Then, his gaze lingered a bit longer.

"Speaking of burdens... that aura of yours." He smirked. "With that kind of presence, we won't need to look for monsters. They'll come straight for us."

Bel exhaled through his nose.

"I'm working on suppressing it."

"Hope you figure it out soon, boy."

Garrik then introduced the rest of the team. Out of the eleven adventurers, only one was Iron Rank, him. Six were Copper Rank, including Bel, and the last four were Tin Rank, likely their first time in a dungeon.

That meant most of them had little to no experience with this kind of mission, but also that the danger was nonexistent.

"Since this is a mixed-rank group, I'll be leading us through the dungeon," Garrik continued, glancing at the younger ones. "For some of you, this is your first raid, so listen well. Inside, there's no running away. If you hesitate, you die. If you break formation, you die. Stick to your roles, stay aware, and don't try to be a hero."

The group remained silent, taking in his words.

Garrik gave them one last look before turning toward the rift.

"Alright, final check. Weapons, armor, potions. Once we go in, there's no turning back until the job is done."

Bel adjusted his gloves, his gaze locked onto the swirling vortex.

Weapon? He didn't need one; he was the weapon, and he was more than ready for his first dungeon.

The first real challenge in a long time.

With steady steps, they walked into the unknown.

The moment they stepped through the rift, the world around them shifted.

The air turned dense. A vast cavern stretched out before them, an enormous space with no visible end.

The walls curved high above, jagged rock formations reaching toward a ceiling cloaked in darkness.

Faint glowing crystals flickered along the edges, casting a little bit of light.

"Woah..." A young man with a staff took a step forward, eyes wide with fascination. "Just like the reports said... A whole other dimension."

Bel barely reacted. Instead, he lifted his gaze, scanning the cavern. Left. Right. The scents were everywhere. The presence of demons.

He looked to the group. The Tin Rank adventurers were tense, their grips tightening around their weapons.

The Copper Rank members, on the other hand, held a different energy, excitement, anticipation. And Garrik? He was relaxed.

Experience. That was the difference.

Garrik took the lead, motioning them forward.

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"Stay on guard," he instructed. "The guild appraised this rift as a Category E, the weakest dungeon rank. But that means the highest possible difficulty could be D. Most of you will be useless if that happened."

With this warning, they moved deeper. Their footsteps echoed against the stone floor. As they walked, Garrik gave a small lesson.

"Cave dungeons like this tend to have burrowing creatures. Beasts that hunt from the shadows, ambush hunters. Eyes open, ears sharp."

A young woman spoke up.

"I heard that in dungeons, mages shouldn't participate in battles. Is that true?"

Garrik smirked.

"I see where you're going. It's not accurate. A dungeon's not like fighting outside. No sun, no clear exits, and no easy way to recover. A fighter can keep fighting as long as his body functions. But a mage depends on mana. If you're a mage, save your energy, only use spells when absolutely necessary."

The mages nodded, taking the advice to heart.

The tunnel eventually widened, opening into a massive chamber. The ceiling arched high above, with several dark tunnels leading in different directions.

The two dwarves in the party were immediately drawn to the odd architecture of the walls.

"The formations are strange," one muttered. "This wasn't naturally formed. Somethin' made this place."

The elf with white hair and a large book in her arms stood silent, observing.

Garrik stood in the center, taking in the surroundings.

"Be ready. A space like this is perfect for an amb..."

A sharp whistle in the air.

Garrik reacted instantly. His shield rose, metal meeting metal with a loud clang.

A jagged spike shot from above, bouncing off his shield and embedding itself into the stone floor.

Garrik's voice boomed through the cavern.

"Above! Look out!"

Every head snapped upward just in time to see the monsters descending from the ceiling holes.

Scaled bodies, gleaming like wet stone in the dim light. Clawed hands, gripping the rocky surface as they dropped. Large, gaping maws lined with jagged teeth.

Lizardmen.

They landed with a heavy thud, their thick tails slamming against the ground, sending dust and pebbles flying. Humanoid in shape but entirely reptilian, their slit-pupil eyes gleamed as they screeched, a high-pitched, grating sound that echoed through the cave.

The fighters braced themselves as the first wave of Lizardmen lunged. Swords clashed against their rough scales. The dwarves swung their heavy hammers, forcing back the creatures with sheer brute strength.

But the Lizardmen weren't simple beasts. They moved fast, weaving between the fighters, their clawed feet skittering against the stone floor. One of them leapt toward a mage in the backline, only to be intercepted by a swift arrow to the shoulder. A young man, an archer, standing behind the warriors, drew another arrow instantly.

But everything wasn't that good.

The tin-ranked mages flinched as the creatures charged. Their instincts kicked in, hands raising as they began chanting spells.

"Stop!" Garrik roared, freezing them mid-chant.

"Don't attack now! You'll hit our own! Let the fighters hold them off first!"

The hesitation was clear in their faces, but they obeyed. Garrik stomped forward, raising his shield.

A golden aura flared around him like a protective barrier.

The Lizardmen screeched again, their bodies tensing at the new threat. Then, almost all at once, they targeted him, their predatory instincts falling for the taunt.

They lunged at him, swiping their claws and slamming against his shield, but never passed the barrier.

"Focus your attacks! Their scales are tough, so aim for the weak spots: the chest, eyes, and mouth!" he barked.

The copper-ranked fighters adjusted quickly, striking with more precision. The sword-wielder slashed upward, aiming for the exposed underside of a Lizardman's jaw, and the beast let out a gurgled screech as the blade pierced through its head. One of the dwarves swung low, crushing the knee of another creature before slamming his hammer down on its skull.

But even with their leader taking the brunt of the attack, it was clear this battle would drag on.

The Lizardmen were strong.

And the mages, half of their firepower, were unable to attack.

Bel stood among them, silent.

The battle raged before him, warriors locked in combat, metal against claw, sweat and blood already staining the cavern floor.

He watched the creatures, studied their movements. The way they slammed against the fighters, desperate to reach Garrik despite the slaughter.

The way the copper-ranked adventurers managed to push back despite the overwhelming numbers.

The Lizardmen were tough, yes. Their scales absorbed most weapon strikes. But even then, they were still taking damage.

If the copper-ranked fighters could handle them, then he could do more.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. No magic? Then, go for plan A.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward. One of the mages, a young man with trembling hands, noticed him immediately.

"Wait... what are you doing?! You're a mage! The leader said not to break formation!"

Bel's eyes gleamed beneath his mask.

"Relax." His voice was calm. He removed one of his gloves, revealing a red draconic hand with black claws, then stepped into the fray. "I won't use magic."