“That’s it? I had to go through hell and back and this is what I get?” An adventurer kicked the guardian chest, his arm completely black.

“It’s a C rank guardian chest. What more did you expect?” His companion rummaged through the gold pile, picking up a spear and a sword.

“It’s just... It’s so underwhelming. Half of the new teams I chat with go die the very next day to this thing.” He picked up the sword, swinging it a few times. Then, he scoffed at it.

“Go to the second floor then. I heard there are lots of exciting new materials there.”

“What am I, stupid? That place is a death trap. Especially with the mushrooms and the fireflies. There are better ways to kill yourself.” He smirked at that, kicking the chest once more for good measure.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go there myself. Let’s go back to the town and get this appraised. If we’re lucky, it could be something good.”

“It won’t be. Besides, I need to get my arm treated by a Sheilan priest. They charge an arm and a leg for that, but what am I going to do? Die?” He winced at his blackened arm, the infection spreading across his body.

“I heard the dungeon’s getting “inspected” soon, which means it’s practically destroyed. How about we buy a nice house here from one of the adventurers after that? They’ll all scatter since there’s no dungeon anymore, but it’s not like the town’s going to disappear.” Both of them fell quiet after that, absorbed in their thoughts.

What was a casual conversation between two adventurers set Viv’s mind ablaze. He was too focused on creating the perfect battleground for the chimera showdown, on how to kill every last one of them. Absorbed in thinking of deadly traps, the conversation lingered in the back of his mind until he snapped out of his haze. Only then did he realise the severity of the news.

Looking at his list of magic items, he didn’t have anything unique to offer to those who willingly came to die. Madness mushrooms and spider venom could be worth something, but he doubted regular adventurers could make use of those or sell them for a good price. Why would anyone bother coming to his dungeon if they had nothing to gain?

Then again, he had a steady supply of mana now, his plan proceeding one step at a time. Hyacinth was only days away from being able to go outside. Though if everything went to plan, it would take some time for him to return. Viv didn’t know how long he had.

He had never cared for what others thought of him, especially since he was one of the strongest beings in the world, but if he was facing the threat of death, would he have to bend his ideals in the face of death, have to play along with the silly game of “helping adventurers grow”?

The first floor was complete, there was nothing more to change there. The second floor was constantly expanding, but that also served as one of its weaknesses. Besides the central forest, everything was too spread out, with creatures roaming all throughout the plains.

Multiple ideas of magical grass, fruit-bearing trees and magic-infused spiderwebs flashed in his mind, but he crossed everything out one by one. He specialised in destruction, he had only ruined things his entire life. Still, even if that was hampering him now, he had no regrets about his actions. If he could go back and change things, well, he would have annihilated humanity already.

He turned his magical gaze to the third floor, already populated by monsters. Red salamanders, humongous demons, and a variety of different strange creatures roamed the obsidian ground, idly fighting amongst each other. They were all the same type of monster - a lesser ifrit. Despite being able to shapeshift, some decided to not transform themselves and remain their original selves.

One such lesser ifrit was currently swimming in viscous magma. Its body was vaguely humanoid, a being made of both fire and smoke. It wore no clothes and bore no weapons - its body was a weapon of its own. The ifrit merged with the magma, its form completely disappearing for a moment. When it emerged, it gained a black sheen to its body, the fire becoming slower, rippling back and forth.

Lesser Ifrit (C)

A cousin to Djinn and a lesser variant of regular Ifrit. Despite its lessened abilities, it is similar to Ifrit, oftentimes only taking a single aspect of them. It likes striking deals with lesser beings only to betray them when they least expect it.

Abilities - Body of Fire, Dominate Fire, Transform Self.

The Ifrit were the smartest creatures in his dungeon so far. They knew many languages, though would only speak with each other rarely. He kept a careful eye on those who chose to take human forms, possibly transforming into someone they knew in their previous lives.

Still, this was only the beginning of the third floor. Observing the quartz and the obsidian on the ground, another plan slowly started to take shape in Viv’s head. He didn’t know how long he had, but no adventurer had reached the third floor yet, so he was safe to do as he wanted for now.

Rousing Lyn from his meditation, Viv ordered him to come to the top of the volcano. He was the only one that preferred to stay on the third floor, the heat making him feel comfortable. Besides, only here would Hyacinth not bother him.

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“Listen carefully. I’m going to be teaching you a ritual this time. Even you should be able to perform it, given you only have a single chain.” Lyn looked down, clutching his fists. “Yes, master.”

“It’s called the Ritual of Living Metal. It’s one of the many reasons why a greater demon is so powerful, and why humans want to kill them so much. It could be used to craft a living weapon - something that would be granted to a demon when it gets promoted to an officer in the army.” Viv recalled old memories, losing his train of thought. He was not the one who proposed the project, but he oversaw large parts of it.

It was old man Menoset that outfitted his army, crafting both demonshard armour and living weapons. Viv passed on the knowledge he gained from the inheritance to him, and in return, he forged Viv his first weapon. Now the Grand Forge housed over a hundred smiths, though most only forged for lesser demons.

“It would take years to get one of you forging living weapons, but I’ve got a better plan anyways.” Viv snapped out of his memories, feeling melancholic.

“I’ll engrave the needed runes nearby, but you’ll need to copy them. The ritual must be carved with magic and malice, or else it will not work.”

It was one more project to be added to his list. Finding a lack of time, his attention slipped from the goblins, the lessons not as important anymore. They would make their own way or they would fade away with time, similar to Blade.

Fortunately, Lyn was much more skilled than before. Viv saw him taking lessons from Pecan, though the two did not get along well. He cared little for his creatures’ interpersonal relationships, only that they did not reach a point of killing one another. It took several days to get it right, and even then Viv was unsure if it would work.

After that came the gruesome part. Hyacinth, Artorius, Zagon, Tamiel, Lyra and Yeri all stood by the underground dungeon, several packs of wolves and cheetahs gathered around. One by one, Lyn lifted the prisoners of the dungeon, their minds still engulfed in nightmares. They had no more energy to scream or even fight, but Viv was not someone to underestimate his foes. He had seen plenty of memories of Demon Lords dying due to careless mistakes, whether it was allowing someone to live or underestimating them.

Yeri and the beast packs stayed on the second floor, but the rest went down. The goblins, having been created on the first floor, could move freely through the dungeon. Only named creatures could travel between floors, and a creature created on the third floor could never go up to the second or the first floor.

“Orian often told me he was going to retire soon. This was supposed to be his last dungeon - he would earn enough from the duke to retire, for his kids to live in safety and peace. Please, if you have any heart left, spare him.” Lyra was crying, tugging at Orian’s chains. His shell was entirely cracked, his body shrivelled, his will to live eroded by the spider.

Only Tamiel looked sympathetic to Lyra’s cause, but even he kept silent, his head lowered. Hyacinth and Artorius were merrily chatting with each other while Zagon quietly walked nearby, muttering something to himself. Lyra desperately looked around, but monsters surrounded her, both in body and mind.

The conversation died down as the heat rose, Ifrit surrounding them as soon as they descended to the third floor, their bodies distorted from the heat. “My dear, you look so sad. Strike a deal with me, let me help you. I’ll get your friend out of these chains.” A lizard crawled up her body, standing on her shoulder and flicking its tongue. Its devilish voice whispered to her, no one else paying attention.

“All you have to do is nod your head. You’ll owe a great debt to me, but your friend will be safe.” The lizard whispered. Lyra shivered, the possibility of getting caught running through her head. After several agonising seconds, she nodded her head.

“Excellent. Trust me, no harm will come to your friend.” The lizard hopped off her body, its body turning black and blending in with its surroundings.

Eventually, the heat was too much for Tamiel to handle. Moments later, a bubble appeared around them as Lyra cast a spell, a cool breeze lowering the temperature. They climbed higher and higher up the volcano until they arrived at the ritual spot - a complicated magical circle surrounded by obsidian pillars, chains of magic interlocking them.

“Begin the ritual,” Viv’s voice echoed through their minds.

Lyn stepped forward, kneeling next to the obsidian pillar. He cut his palm, droplets of blood coated the pillar, dripping onto the circle. Blood slowly filled the circle, and when it was complete it flashed red, a demon’s head emerging in the middle. One by one, the pillars blazed with black fire.

As Lyn’s mana emptied, Hyacinth took over the ritual, his own flowing freely. Lyn walked to the side and yanked the first prisoner, knocking him to the ground. As soon as his body landed on the circle, it began to burn. His body, his soul, his mana, his life—everything was taken from him in painful agony, channelled into the volcano. Not even dust was spared, not leaving any evidence of him existing.

One by one, the prisoners were sacrificed, the lava in the volcano becoming darker and darker. It bubbled and surged, threatening to spill out at any moment. By Lyla’s request, Orian was last. As each prisoner died, Lyla became more and more anxious, desperately looking around for something. Lyn walked next to him, grabbing him by his shell. Lyla’s heart was pounding, her eyes a mixture of hope and despair.

Orian didn’t struggle. He was lucid for his last moments, sensing the grim reaper’s scythe rapidly approaching. He would never have a chance to reincarnate, but he had lived a good life. He turned around and smiled at Lyla as she cried, yelling out for someone to save him. Then, he was tossed to the ground, the last embers of his life burning away. Lyla fell to her knees as an ifrit cackled. To Lyra, it sounded like the devil himself was laughing, mocking her for her foolishness.

“Let’s go. We will be engulfed otherwise.” Tamiel’s words never reached her - she was determined to perish together with Orian. It was Lyn's cold voice commanding her to run, to follow them that made her stand up. She could have chosen to die with him, to let the collar kill her as she disobeyed the order, but she was too selfish. She hated herself for it, but her legs carried her forwards, out of the third floor. One day she would avenge him. One day she would bring ruin to this dungeon. But that day was not today.

The volcano violently erupted, an explosion of noise and heat hitting the floor all at once. The lava splashed the ceiling, raining down on those below and coating the ground in dark-red lava. It crashed against the top of the volcano, spilling down the sides, a fiery stream burning anything in its path. The ifrit screamed and danced, racing against the lava and joining it when they lost.

The first eruption lasted for hours on end, and when it was done, the obsidian that formed with it radiated magic, a glint of crimson red coating the edges. It would feast on both fire and blood, growing stronger every time it did.