A dungeon master.

The thought nagged at Cale as he trudged through the crumbling ruins. If this Warlord the Core mentioned had truly been a dungeon master, it explained why the system had led him here.

But still, something didn’t add up.

Cale stopped and glanced around. Ancient stone pillars rose around him, their surfaces etched with runes so old they seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light. This wasn’t a dungeon, at least, not in the sense he understood.

“If the owner of this place was a dungeon master, then why...” he muttered, half to himself, scanning the surrounding ruins.

"Why does it look nothing like any dungeon you've ever known?"

The Core's voice slithered through his mind, a mix of amusement and smugness.

“You read my mind,” Cale muttered, rolling his eyes.

“This isn’t a dungeon,” he continued, gesturing at the sprawling remnants of what had clearly once been a thriving city.

“It’s… it’s ancient. Prosperous, even. Entire civilizations must have lived here. This doesn’t align with what I know about dungeons. They’re supposed to be... dark, confined. Traps everywhere. Monsters lurking in the shadows. This place—it’s just ruins.”

The Core chuckled, a low, melodic sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

“Kukuku… Master, you’re so naive. It’s adorable.”

Cale’s eye twitched. “Spill the beans already, would you? You’re clearly holding something back, and I hate being kept in the dark.”

The Core’s laughter faded, replaced by a more serious tone.

“It’s not your fault.”

“...What?”

“You’re naive, Master, but it’s not your fault. I forgive you.”

“....”

Cale’s jaw tightened. He said nothing, just shot a glance skyward, silently praying for patience.

“Master,” the Core continued, her tone shifting again, this time with a mocking edge, “you’re just so damn clueless.”

“You know what?” Cale snapped, his voice tinged with frustration. “I’ve had enough of this little game. Either explain yourself, or shut up.”

“Hehehe... Alright, alright,” she teased, clearly enjoying his irritation. “Why so agitated, Master? I was just about to explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore,” he muttered, turning away and scanning the area, ready to explore on his own terms.

“Even if you say that, I know you’re still curious.” Her voice followed him, persistent as ever. “I’ll tell you anyway.”

Of course, she would.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Cale kept walking, heading away from the warped stone gate that had brought him here. Even as he tried to tune her out, he couldn’t help but listen.

“The problem is,” she said, her tone shifting yet again, “your view of your dungeon master abilities is… painfully limited. Remember what I told you when we first met? Being a dungeon master—it’s a power that far surpasses anything as trivial as being a ‘hero.’”

Cale frowned. He did remember. She’d practically spat the word hero that day, her disdain for it was palpable.

“Your idea of what a dungeon is… it’s too small. Too human,” she continued, her voice softening but retaining that ever-present undercurrent of smugness.

He didn’t respond, but her words wormed their way into his mind.

A hero. What was a hero, really?

The thought lingered, unwelcome.

A hero was a symbol, a title bestowed by the people of a world, a badge of faith, of hope. To be a hero was to carry the weight of an entire civilization’s trust, to rise above all others in strength and resolve.

But for him?

Cale let out a bitter laugh.

He’d been hailed as the Hero, but the truth was, he hadn’t been the strongest. Not even close.

His allies, the ones who had stood beside him, fought beside him, betrayed him—each of them had surpassed him in sheer power. Aelira, Rhogar, Jorin, Velena… they had all carried the blessings of at least one of the Seven Gods.

When it came to raw strength, Cale couldn’t hold a candle to them. Not when they activated their blessings, transforming into forces of nature far beyond his reach.

But even with their blessings, none of his former allies had ever reached the threshold that past heroes were known for.

None had broken through that final barrier to truly embody the legends of old.

Yet Cale, weaker than any of them by conventional measures, had still been hailed as the hero. Why?

The answer lay in his strange and unique ability, Commanding Presence.

It was more than a charisma skill or a simple talent for leadership. It was a force that bent others to his will, that empowered them and drove them to heights they would never have reached alone.

His allies’ meteoric rise in strength? Their rapid mastery of their divine blessings? That was his doing. Without Commanding Presence, they wouldn’t have followed him. They wouldn’t have grown.

And when he used the ability on himself, it allowed him to temporarily break the limits of a hero’s power, reaching beyond the conventional for short bursts of time.

Yet it still didn’t feel like enough.

He clenched his fists. A hero was meant to wield power beyond measure, to stand as a being second only to the gods themselves.

That was why, back when the Core had first spoken to him, he hadn’t taken her words seriously.

“You know…” the Core’s voice interrupted his thoughts again, carrying a knowing edge. “A dungeon master can attain strength equal to that of gods. That’s the entire purpose of the system, after all.”

Cale frowned. Equal to gods? That seemed absurd.

As if sensing his disbelief, the Core continued. “It’s true, Master. Don’t let the word ‘dungeon’ deceive you. It doesn’t just mean dark caves filled with traps and monsters.”

Her tone shifted, growing more serious.

“A dungeon is a concept. It’s the foundation of your power. A starting point. There’s no limit to how it can grow. A dungeon can evolve into a city, a nation, a world… even more. What you see around you? This ancient ruin?”

Her words hung in the air.

Cale’s eyes darted across the sprawling ruins again, his mind spinning.

“You mean… this entire city is… a dungeon?”

“I’m glad you finally understand, Master,” the Core said, her tone tinged with satisfaction.

Cale swallowed hard. This entire place—a vast city with architecture more advanced than anything he’d ever seen, had once been someone’s dungeon?

If that was true, then the Warlord who had ruled here must have been unimaginably powerful.

“From what I can see, it seems he was in the process of integrating this world into his dungeon,” the Core continued. “That’s why this place connects to so many parts of the world simultaneously.”

“I see…” Cale muttered, his voice tinged with awe

If this Warlord had managed to bind an entire world to his dungeon, then he hadn’t just rivaled gods, he might have surpassed them.

“Then what happened to him?” Cale asked aloud, the question gnawing at him. “How could someone that powerful… disappear?”

“If you’re asking me, Master, who am I supposed to ask?” the Core teased lightly. “I’m just a mere Core, after all.”

Cale frowned. Mere Core, my ass. He didn’t trust her coyness. She always seemed to know far more than she let on.

Still, her point stood: whatever had happened to the Warlord, it didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the opportunity before him.

“This place… presents a great chance for you, Master,” the Core said, her tone shifting again, holding an unspoken weight. “If you can seize what lies here…”

She didn’t finish, but the implications were clear.

Cale pressed on, stepping deeper into the ruins. The debris of a forgotten era littered the ground, shattered statues, crumbled pillars, patches of twisted vegetation glowing faintly under the pale light of the moon that hung overhead.

The air was thick with subtle tension, and his senses were on edge.

“Charming place,” he muttered in a low voice.

“Be cautious, Master,” the Core warned, her voice taking a softer tone. “This place may seem silent, but it is far from safe. There’s more here than stone and memories.”

“Good. I like a bit of danger,” Cale replied, though his voice carried tensed traces.

Just then, a soft chime echoed in his mind, signaling the system’s intervention.

—

[Analysis Activated]

[Region: Stonefang Ruins]

[Status: Early Formation]

[Hostile Entities Detected: 24+]

[Recommended Approach: Scout before engaging.]

---

“Even the system’s getting bossy now,” Cale muttered, crouching behind a broken column. He drew his twin daggers, the metal glinting faintly under the moonlight.

Shadows shifted in the distance, and two hulking shapes emerged.

The creatures werewolf-like, but far larger, their bodies covered in metallic hides that glinted unnaturally. Their glowing eyes scanned the ruins with eerie precision, and faint pulses of mana rippled through the air with every step they took.

They weren’t ordinary beasts.

“These things…” Cale muttered, gripping his daggers tighter.

“They’re mana-forged constructs,” the Core explained. “Not alive in the traditional sense, but dangerous nonetheless. Be careful, Master.”

Cale’s muscles tensed as the beast began to move closer, their metallic claws scraping against the stone.

“Guess it’s time to test myself once more,” he whispered.