Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 100: [The Throne of Kharnath-Dur 3] In the Shadow of the Temple

Chapter 100: [The Throne of Kharnath-Dur 3] In the Shadow of the Temple

Raven followed Durnehra in silence, his boots echoing faintly across stone older than dynasties.

The tunnel narrowed and then opened into a circular, domed chamber carved directly into the mountain’s marrow.

A hush lived here, not from emptiness, but reverence.

The only light came from veins of crystal webbed across the ceiling, pulsing with a slow, organic rhythm—as if the stone itself were breathing.

"She will be here in a moment. Don’t say anything unnecessary," Durnehra whispered. Raven nodded.

At the far end of the chamber, a colossal relief rose from the wall. Dorrak-Thul, the god of Earth, carved into the stone like a half-woken dream.

His features were unreadable, eyes carved deeper than shadow, watching without sight. There was an artistry to the sculpture that chilled Raven more than it impressed.

The longer he stared, the more the proportions felt... wrong. Not flawed, but alien.

The dwarves hadn’t made this with chisels alone—this was a masterpiece of dwarven artisanry, the peak of their craft.

Knowledge distilled from a thousand years of silent stone and relentless precision, etched by tradition, blood, and something deeper still—something older than even memory.

The air around the relief felt heavy, like pressure before a cave-in, or the pause before divine judgment.

Maeryn Steelshard entered the chamber like a figure conjured from old stone and unspoken pacts.

She was a regal dwarven woman, cloaked in silver-accented stonecloth robes that shimmered with an unnatural stillness—her face, hard and cold, even though her beauty cannot soften her looks.

Her steps made no sound, but her presence was deafening.

Her eyes were honed, like blades polished to mirror-finish, and her posture held the weight of one who had never needed to kneel.

She was beautiful, yes—but it was a sculpted beauty, meant to draw attention only so it could seize control.

There was something sinuous in how she moved, the graceful menace of a creature that always knew where its prey would land.

Raven felt it at once, coiled just beneath her grace: a predator’s stillness.

The unease Durnehra warned him of now took shape in full.

In her hand, she carried a ceremonial staff topped with a shard of deep-earth quartz.

The gem pulsed faintly, not unlike the heartbeat of the chamber itself—too perfect, too synchronized.

Raven’s gaze lingered just long enough to notice the lines between ornament and mechanism were blurred.

Her voice was smooth, almost hypnotic, like stone being eroded by water drop by drop—soft, precise, inevitable.

It wasn’t meant to comfort. It was meant to condition.

Not a voice of prayer. A voice of instruction.

A voice used to being obeyed.

Maeryn offered a courteous bow, her eyes not leaving Raven’s. "You’ve walked through fire and frost to reach us, outsider. The Temple and the Crown owe you thanks—for the lives spared and the courage shown."

Raven gave a polite nod, his expression unreadable. "Appreciate the welcome," he replied.

She stepped closer, her presence still unnervingly measured. "Few from above understand what Kharnath-Dur truly is. We are not just a city. We are the balance beneath the war of metal, magic, and wood. We endure so the rest may fracture in peace."

Raven gave a slight, respectful nod. "Interesting way to put it," he replied, tone casual. "Not exactly the kind of thing people talk about topside."

Maeryn extended her palm, revealing a ring—smooth, heavy, made of burnished brass. It glinted like molten gold caged in form. "This was forged from the same brass that binds our sun-orb. An emblem of our resolve. Take it."

A system ping flickered across Raven’s HUD.

[System Prompt: Quest Finished – " Enter the Depth of Kharnath-Dur" (1/1)]

[Quest Reward: Ring of High Speaker]

Raven accepted it silently. The metal was warm. The script etched inside read: Stand as stone. Endure as ore.

She smiled then, the kind of smile that never touched the eyes. "Perhaps your arrival was not mere chance. Some forces move where even stone dares not."

Raven kept his tone neutral, the edges of practicality grounding his reply. "Or maybe someone up there decided it was time a few stones got turned over."

As the conversation continued, Raven found his eyes drifting back to her staff. The shard of quartz atop it pulsed again—perfectly in time with the rhythm of the chamber’s veins. Too perfect. As if it wasn’t reflecting the crystal light but commanding it.

And yet it wasn’t the staff that truly unsettled him. It was her gaze. Silently measuring him. Like she already had a verdict but was savoring the performance of arriving at it. Like she is measuring him.

Raven kept his expression composed, but the thoughts moved fast.

What’s on her mind?

Is she waiting for me to react specifically?

This wasn’t a greeting—it was an interrogation dressed in ceremony. What game is she playing?

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer than comfort allowed. Polite, observant—but always calculating.

"So tell me," she said with an eerie casualness, "what is the word from the surface? Does the Velkarin Axis speak kindly of our city, or do they still see us as relics to be used and shelved?"

Raven gave a half-shrug. "They don’t say much. And when they do, it’s usually whatever keeps their boots polished and their ledgers clean."

"Ah, really?" she added, tilting her head slightly. "Do you believe they won’t do anything about it?"

Raven met her gaze with quiet poise. "Wouldn’t you know better than I?" he asked, voice even.

Inwardly, his thoughts narrowed: She’s too smooth. Too careful.

Maybe there’s something between her and Emberwatch. Velkarin command? Ironsong?

Maeryn laughed—light, deliberate.

When their exchange reached its natural end, she offered one final smile—shallow, unreadable. "In this city, silence can be deafening," she said softly. "And sometimes, it ends in eternal slumber."

Raven returned her gaze, offering a polite nod. "I’ll keep that in mind," he said, voice calm.

But inside, the message landed deeper than her tone suggested. She wasn’t just making conversation. She was digging, probing him—looking for cracks. He didn’t know what she was after yet, but he knew she was playing a longer game.

Maeryn turned back to him one last time, her expression composed. Then came the smile—thin, measured, and just crooked enough to make Raven wonder if it was a smirk.

"Please," she said, voice silk-smooth. "Enjoy your stay."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her steps vanishing like ripples into still water.

Raven turned, cloak rustling softly as he left the chamber. The silence did not follow him—it clung to the stones, hung thick in the air like dust disturbed.

Two temple guards flanked the hallway outside.

They moved with uncanny precision, steps mirrored exactly, like puppets strung by some ancient rhythm.

Not a word passed between them. Not a glance. Only motion, perfect and rehearsed, as if their bones remembered drills never taught.

He descended a short stairwell and let the ceremonial atmosphere wrap him like a burial shroud. The memory of Maeryn’s smile lingered behind his eyes—cold, rehearsed, unnerving.

He looked down at the brass ring she’d given him. It gleamed faintly in the crystal-lit gloom.

Something is wrong.

Quest reward usually items with bonus stat.

Maybe the prize is high? The ring designated as a trash item?

Gifts like this—especially from people like her—always had hooks buried beneath the polish. It felt less like a gesture of trust, and more like a quiet command.

As his fingers closed around it, something flickered at the edge of his vision—like light bending wrong. His breath caught, just slightly.

Not pain. Not a system error. Just... pressure.

A pulse—not from the ring, but from somewhere behind his eyes.

It passed instantly. A trick of the light, maybe. Or fatigue.

There is an effect after all, but why are the bonus stats not there?

He turned the ring over again. The seams were too perfect. Dwarven make, clearly—but not standard.

Something about it felt wrong. This is not a normal Quest reward.

A relic meant to be sold at measly coin. Not worn.

His instincts prickled.

Curiously, Raven look at it for a while. At this point, the PvE mission ends. The quest was only about saving the caravan envoy, receive the prize, hailed as hero, and that’s it.

But there is too many variables in this quest.

A low-ranking commander from the Velkarin Axis meddling too much in another nation’s affairs.

A reward-giver—the High Speaker—whose dialogue felt suspiciously layered, like a questline trying to mask its true path.

And a reward with an undefined, possibly hidden effect.

Too complex for a standard caravan escort mission.

A system ping flickered across Raven’s HUD.

[Ring: Maximum interaction time reached without being worn]

[System Prompt: Optional Quest – " Enter the Depth of Kharnath-Dur" (0/1)]

Alternate quest that has the same name as the main quest that already finished? Even the main quest has no objective, no explanation.

Nothing.

As Raven emerged into the outer corridor, Durnehra was waiting.

"She talks real nice, dresses even better," Durnehra said, voice low. "But I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her. The type who smiles while she’s sinking the ship."

Raven raised an eyebrow, more curious than surprised. "Not a fan, huh?"

Durnehra crossed her arms. "She knows every rule, every tradition, but there’s something off about her. Like she’s always calculating something behind the curtain. She’s not here to serve the temple. She is the temple—or at least the part that grabs the reins when no one’s looking."

Raven didn’t respond immediately. Just slid the brass ring into his cloak and looked down the hall Maeryn had vanished into. The stones seemed heavier there.

"She’s dangerous," Durnehra said. "I don’t know what she’s planning. But I don’t want to find out too late."

Raven nodded. "Shadow government?"

Durnehra looked at him for a moment. "I think that’s what you humans usually call it. Yes. Shadow government."

A voice called from further down the corridor. "Hey. Outsider."

Raven turned. "It’s Raven, Commander Ironsong."

The commander approached, offering a faint smile. "Raven. Right. We didn’t have time for introductions earlier. I need to talk with you. Walk with me."

They moved through the stone halls, the air close and cool. The deeper paths of Kharnath-Dur held fewer citizens—just shadows and the occasional flicker of crystal light.

"The walls have ears here," Ironsong said. "And they usually belong to the temple... or the castle."

Raven nodded. He was already aware of the light scuff of steps trailing behind.

"And someone’s following us," the commander added.

"I know," Raven said.

Durnehra, just behind them, gave a quick glance back. "I’ll handle it."

She turned and strode back toward the follower, throwing on a friendly voice and greeting them like an old acquaintance—covering their trail.

Ironsong didn’t look back. "Listen. I’ll keep it brief. Everyone here knows me. If I’m seen snooping around, it gets complicated. I need your help."

"I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but I’m also human here," Raven replied, his voice calm. "Bit hard to blend in."

Ironsong smirked. "You can move in daylight and vanish in snow. You’re different. And I need someone who doesn’t answer to the temple."

He lowered his voice further. "Something’s off with the High Speaker. I need to know what she’s hiding. She’s got documents—sealed ones. Probably in her office in the temple. I can’t go poking around, but you? They’ll underestimate you."

Raven tilted his head. "Why do you care? This city’s knotted tight. The Dwarven priestess has venom under her tongue, and the king? Might not be much better."

Ironsong was silent for a long moment. Long enough that Raven thought he might have pushed too far.

Then came the answer—quiet, almost bitter. "Love is confusing, isn’t it?"

Raven gave a long glance, the thought lingering. freeweɓnovel~cѳm

Love?

Another puzzle beneath the surface.

Well, in time, it would all be revealed.

"I’ll see what I can do," he said.

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