Entering the B-Rank Dungeon: The Demon's LabyrinthA Step into the Unknown
The instant Leon crossed the threshold, the barrier behind him vanished without a sound.
There was no shimmer, no shift in color—just absence. The entrance was gone, replaced by a wall of raw obsidian veined with molten red light.
And the heat—
It wrapped around him like a predator's breath: damp, searing, heavy.
The stone beneath his boots was slick, not with water, but something thicker. He glanced down. Blood. Dried around the edges, still wet in the center. Not fresh. Not old.
The smell confirmed it—charred flesh, sulfur, rotting breath.
He tightened the strap on his gun holster and drew his weapon. With his other hand, he summoned.
In a slow pulse of smoke and bone, the Deathborn Sorcerer and Warrior Zombie emerged at his sides.
The Sorcerer's skull burned silently, its eyes flickering with black flame.The Warrior shifted its stance, placing itself half a step ahead, sword lowered but ready.
Then came the voice.
A whisper that didn't echo—but coiled around his neck.
"Another soul, delivered to our gates. How tender you still are…"
Leon turned—nothing. Just the warped geometry of the corridor ahead.
He pressed forward.
The Labyrinth Breathes
The walls of the dungeon weren't stone.
They were flesh.
Dead flesh.
The hallway pulsed in irregular intervals—somewhere between a heartbeat and a convulsion. Veins ran beneath the surface, twitching like worms. Carvings etched into the ceiling weren't manmade; they were grown, twisted bone forming shapes too ancient to decipher.
There was no map.
No pattern.
The corridors turned sharply, split without logic, then converged again like veins.
Leon didn't rush.
His footfalls were measured. His summons never drifted far.
Then—
A corpse.
The First Test
Leon crouched.
The hunter's body was slumped against the wall. What remained of their armor was torn—not sliced. Peeled. As if something had unwrapped the man mid-scream.
His face told the rest. His jaw hung open, locked in an expression that didn't die peacefully.
Leon didn't touch anything.
The Sorcerer's gaze was fixed ahead, jaw tightening.
Then—movement.
A slick noise. Something dragging across the wall just ahead, where no light reached.
Leon raised his gun.
Behind him—
A breath.
He spun and fired.
Bang.
The bullet tore through a twitching limb—thin, sinewed, with a dozen black tendrils wrapped around it like a second skin.
The creature didn't fall.
It screamed—gargled, wrong—before snapping its twisted body toward him.
Not a goblin.
Not anymore.
Its bones were stretched too far. Black fluid oozed from its sockets. The flesh on its face was stripped entirely, revealing a crooked skull lined with pulsing veins.
It lunged.
Leon stepped aside.
"Engage."
The Warrior Zombie met it mid-charge, greatsword sweeping upward.
CRUNCH.
The beast split in half—but kept writhing.
Leon's gun was already raised.
Another shot—dead center.
Still twitching.
His eyes narrowed.
"Regenerative."
The halves began crawling back toward each other, muscle trying to rebind.
"Now."
The Sorcerer raised its clawed hands.
[Soulfire Barrage]
Five projectiles shot out—arcing in clean, unnatural curves. Each flame struck a limb, then ignited with silent fire.
The creature shrieked—and began to unravel.
There was no blood.
Only ash.
Adjusting to the Labyrinth's Rules
Leon waited.
Only when the air stilled did he lower his weapon.
"They don't die from damage," he muttered. "Only from essence destruction."
He adjusted his mental command tier.
The Sorcerer was now frontline priority against all regenerators.
His system buzzed faintly.
[Soul-Essence Targeting: Recommended Loadout Activated]Mana Conversion: 87%Energy Signature: Undead Counter-Type Confirmed
Leon exhaled and moved forward.
The Labyrinth had made its move.
Now it was his turn.
Traps and Reactions
The corridor opened into a round chamber—larger than any space so far.
Smooth obsidian tiles, each etched with pulsing red glyphs. A puzzle, maybe. Or a ritual site.
Leon didn't step forward.
He studied the rhythm of the light. One glyph flickered slower than the others.
He raised a piece of bone debris from the floor and tossed it forward.
CLANK.
A spike shot up, the size of a javelin, and speared the bone mid-air.
Another glyph pulsed in response.
A chain reaction.
The entire chamber was rigged to punish movement.
"Follow."
He entered—not through the glyphs, but along the wall.
The Warrior Zombie followed in low, deliberate steps. The Sorcerer hovered behind, reading the room through ambient mana.
At the chamber's far end—
A door.
As he stepped toward it—
THUNK.
A spike fired.
Straight through the Warrior Zombie's chest.
Leon didn't flinch.
[Undead Vital Structure Damaged][Reconstruction Option Available]
He raised his hand.
"Collapse."
The zombie's body dissolved in smoke—then reformed beside him, unmarred.
The system whispered again:
[Traproom Survival Confirmed – Data Logged]
Leon pushed open the next gate.
The Labyrinth Speaks Back
This time, the voice wasn't whispering.
It spoke directly into his skull.
"You should not be here."
Leon stopped.
The walls rippled. Grotesque faces stretched from the flesh—open-mouthed, eye-sockets hollow.
But this time, they weren't illusions.
One blinked.
"You've trespassed deeper than the others. There is no gate back."
Leon kept walking.
"No gate needed," he muttered.
"Then kneel."
He paused, tilted his head slightly.
"Make me."
The faces screamed.
And from the tunnel ahead—
It came.
The Juggernaut Arrives
The air shifted.
Heat vanished—replaced by crushing pressure.
The Sorcerer's flames dimmed for the first time.
Then, something stepped forward.
It didn't crawl.
It didn't run.
It walked.
Twelve feet tall. Skin blackened to chitin. Four arms, each one plated in demonic armor. The chest glowed red—a living crystal pulsing like a heart, encased in veins of shadowsteel.
No eyes.
Just a face of scars and bone ridges.
[System Alert: B-Rank Mini-Boss Detected – Demonic Juggernaut]Threat Rating: HighSubtype: Essence Recycler
Leon rolled his wrist once.
The gun clicked as the mana core surged.
"Finally."