The moment I stepped into the dungeon, I realized I had made a terrible mistake.
This wasn't a dungeon.
It was a monument.
A massive, decaying shrine of some long-forgotten civilization. The air inside was thick with dust and mana—like the atmosphere itself was old and heavy. The faint, golden-orange glow of floating flame wisps hovered over ancient sconces on the walls, casting dancing shadows across cracked stone murals and broken pillars.
The place reeked of history. And danger.
I didn't know how deep it went, or how far it sprawled beneath the Borderlands, but from the brief map update in my system, I'd only stepped into the outermost chamber. The deeper sections were still blacked out, waiting to be discovered.
One step at a time.
The stone corridor stretched out before me, quiet except for the occasional flutter of wings and the distant sound of growls echoing in the darkness.
Every inch of this place screamed, "You don't belong here."
And it was right.
I advanced slowly, using a broken spear I'd salvaged from the entrance as a walking stick and potential last-ditch weapon. My system pinged now and then, highlighting pressure plates, slight cracks in the tiles, or faint glows that suggested traps.
Without [Tactician's Instinct], I'd be dead ten times over by now.
[Trap Detected: Mana Spike—Disarmed]
[You've gained 3 XP.]
That had been the fourth trap in less than ten minutes.
Most were embedded into the environment—hidden tiles, runic tripwires, collapsing ceilings. I was barely surviving, not fighting.
And I knew that couldn't last forever.
Eventually, I found a chamber filled with decayed vines and moss-covered statues. The room had two exits, both sealed with heavy iron doors. But the real problem wasn't the doors.
It was the beasts.
Three of them. Small, dog-sized creatures with reptilian bodies and jagged teeth. Their eyes glowed red in the dark, and steam hissed from their nostrils. Their scales were cracked and burned in places, leaking faint trails of ember.
[Monster Identified: Emberfang Pup – Level 2]
Behavior: Aggressive | Fire Affinity | Low Intelligence
Weakness: Legs, Underbelly
I crouched behind a pillar, heart pounding.
I couldn't fight them head-on.
I didn't even have a weapon that wasn't snapped in half.
But I didn't need to fight like a hero.
I needed to survive.
It took me an hour to come up with a plan.
First, I backtracked and gathered materials—broken stones, twisted metal bars, brittle vines. Using one of the vines, I created a makeshift snare trap, tying it tightly between two columns at ankle height. The idea was to trip the creatures as they sprinted.
Next, I piled dry moss near the entrance of the room and set small sparks from flint stones I'd collected outside. The moss smoked but didn't ignite—just enough to cause a distraction.
Finally, I created spike traps using sharpened bones from some unfortunate adventurer's remains and wedged them beneath loose floor tiles. Primitive, but effective.
[New Trap Created: Primitive Bone Spikes]
[Basic Survival +5%]
When I returned to the room, the Emberfangs had clustered near one of the glowing runes, likely sensing mana.
I took a deep breath.
Then I threw a stone across the room and sprinted back toward the entrance, yanking the moss pile into the open.
Smoke spread.
Snarls echoed.
And just as I expected, one of the Emberfangs charged first—straight into the snare.
It tripped, crashed to the ground, and rolled onto the spikes I'd hidden beneath the moss pile.
[Critical Hit: Backleg Severed]
[Emberfang Pup Defeated]
[You gained 32 XP.]
I didn't celebrate.
The other two came next.
I used the broken spear to bait one toward the corner pillar, then circled wide and shoved it into the spike trap. The third—faster, angrier—got a shallow stab to the eye before it slammed into me, knocking the wind out of my lungs.
Its teeth sank into my arm, but the moment I activated [Tactician's Instinct], time slowed.
I saw the flicker of movement in its hind legs. I twisted my body, using the momentum to flip us both over—right onto the second spike trap I'd set earlier.
[Emberfang Pup Defeated]
[You gained 31 XP.]
I crawled away, clutching my bleeding arm, panting like I'd run a marathon.
And then—
[Level Up! You are now Level 2.]
HP and Mana Restored.
Attribute Points: +2
Skill Progress Increased.
For a long moment, I just sat there on the floor.
Not smiling. Not cheering.
Just breathing.
Level 2.
The smallest number in the world.
But it meant I wasn't nothing anymore.
I was surviving. Growing. Evolving.
Even if just a little.
I bandaged my wound with torn strips from my robe. The bite had been shallow, and the system's auto-healing upon level-up sealed most of it. My muscles felt less sore, and my mind was clearer.
I pulled up the system screen to check my stats.
[Lucien Elvar – Executor Candidate]
Level: 2
HP: 80/80
Mana: 25/25
Status: Stable
Attributes:
Strength: 10 (+1)
Intelligence: 12
Endurance: 9 (+1)
Willpower: 14
New Trait Unlocked:
Trap Mastery (Passive): Improvised traps have 15% higher success rate and cause +10% damage.
"Nice," I whispered, allowing myself the faintest grin.
I didn't get flashy sword skills or fireballs.
But this?
This was something I could work with.
If I wasn't going to fight like a protagonist, then I'd fight like a scavenger. A tactician. A trapper.
If I could set up enough tricks… I wouldn't need to clash head-on with anything.
The Emberfang corpses dropped faint embers and a few shards of what looked like crystallized fire mana. I stored them in my pouch. Maybe they'd be useful later—for crafting or trading.
The iron doors finally responded to the room being "cleared." With a loud rumble, the left door creaked open, revealing a dark stairwell that spiraled downward into even deeper parts of the temple.
I stared at the staircase for a long time.
I could turn back now.
I'd leveled up. Gotten materials. Proved to myself that I wasn't helpless.
But something was pulling me forward.
Curiosity? Greed?
No. It wasn't that.
It was the realization that this temple might hold more than beasts.
It might hold answers.
That pendant—the [Fragment of Dominion]—wasn't something Lucien ever had in the original novel. Its name alone hinted at something ancient. Something powerful. And maybe even… connected to why I ended up here in the first place.
I couldn't ignore that.
I stepped forward, gripping my broken spear tighter.
The stairwell descended for what felt like hours.
Along the way, I found ancient frescoes carved into the stone—images of robed figures channeling fire from massive braziers, kneeling before a flaming crown. Some murals depicted beasts like the Emberfangs being bound in runic chains, forced to serve as guardians.
This temple… it was built by people who worshipped fire. Or something born from it.
The lower I went, the hotter the air became. A slow, creeping heat that pressed into my skin and made it harder to breathe. I was sweating through my robe by the time I reached the next chamber.
And when I entered it—
I froze.
Because I wasn't alone.
I spent the next few hours scouring the now-safe chamber, gathering bones and scattered scraps of metal from broken weapons or discarded armor. Some of it was rusted, but enough could be sharpened or tied together. I didn't want to be caught off guard again.
The quiet gave me too much time to think.
This was a dungeon.
An actual dungeon.
In Sword of the Last Sovereign, dungeons were usually just battle arenas. Simple environments where the protagonist slaughtered waves of enemies, gained loot, and evolved on the spot. They weren't mysterious. They weren't dangerous—not really. They existed solely as stepping stones for the hero to grow stronger.
But this… this was different.
The Temple of the First Flame wasn't just a monster nest.
It was alive.
The murals, the architecture, the air itself—it all told a story. There were runes I couldn't read and symbols that weren't from the novel. The monsters weren't just random spawns; they were guardians. Bound protectors. And that altar I passed in the previous hall—it looked like a place of worship, not a spawn point.
In the novel, dungeons appeared when "mana density" reached unstable levels. They were treated like magical storms with treasure at the center. Adventurers would raid them, clear them, then leave with glowing loot boxes.
That version of dungeons was simple.
This wasn't.
And that terrified me.
Because if dungeons were different now, what else had changed?
What else could I no longer trust?
Had the entire world rewritten itself the moment I arrived?
Or… was the novel I read just a shallow version of a much deeper reality?
I didn't have answers.
But one thing was clear:
This world didn't revolve around me.
At the far end of the room stood a massive beast—easily triple the size of the pups I fought earlier. Its scales were deep crimson, like molten rock. Thick cords of mana wrapped around its legs, binding it to a smoldering altar. Its breath came in sharp, smoky huffs, and every exhale shook the air.
Its eyes snapped toward me, glowing with hatred and pain.
[Boss Identified: Emberfang Alpha – Level 6]
Behavior: Enraged | Fire Elemental Core Detected
Status: Injured, Imprisoned
Command: Controls local Emberfang Pack
Threat Level: High
I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
A single growl from that thing could tear me apart.
The door behind me began to seal shut.
[You have entered a Boss Room.]
[Combat is Optional – Escape conditions detected.]
My knees trembled.
This wasn't something I could outsmart with rope and bones.
This was something I'd have to avoid. Or maybe… free?
No. That would be insane.
But then again, so was everything about this world.
I crouched behind a broken pillar, peeking at the beast, sweat dripping from my brow.
This thing wasn't just a boss.
It was the leader of the horde.
And I had just found it.