Aiden stared into the still waters of the dungeon’s underground lake, his own reflection gazing back at him. A familiar hum filled his vision as a status screen materialized before his eyes, revealing the details of his existence.


    The Show Eyes—the artifact he had connected with—had been a tremendous boon. With them, he could appraise anything at will, uncovering secrets hidden from ordinary sight. His reflection wavered slightly on the lake’s surface, but the status remained firm.


    Aiden


    Body: *******


    Contacts: Astra


    Spirit Level: Low-level spirit


    His body type remained obscured, likely due to his low spirit level. He frowned. What kind of body did he possess? What was its name? The question gnawed at him, stirring his curiosity.


    Another thought struck him. He turned his gaze toward the spirit standing a few steps away—the spectral presence of the Queen of the Dungeon. The moment his eyes landed on her, a second status screen flickered into view.


    Astral Princess


    Body: Astral Body (Sealed)


    Title: Crown of Rune, Queen of Spells


    Contact: Dungeon Owner


    Aiden’s breath caught. Her body was sealed, yet her power was undeniable. She had earned her titles—Crown of Rune and Queen of Spells—through sheer skill, not simply by relying on her bloodline or inherited abilities. That alone spoke volumes about her strength.


    For a moment, Aiden considered confronting her about her sealed Astral Body, but he hesitated. His mind had already latched onto something else, something that piqued his interest even more—Contracts.


    The ability to bind others.


    He had already learned the spell of enslavement from the Spirit Queen.


    The knowledge burned within him—he had already learned the spell to enslave spirits from the Queen herself. With such power at his disposal, why not build a force of his own? A team of formidable beings bound to him, serving his future ambitions.


    Determined, Aiden stepped toward the Queen, ready to propose a journey to the Spirit World—to gather forces under his command. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, the ground trembled.


    A deep, reverberating vibration pulsed through the dungeon. The Queen’s eyes snapped toward the entrance, her expression darkening.


    "Aiden… what have you done?"


    He barely had time to process her words before she raised a hand, casting a swift incantation.


    Her hands rose, fingers weaving through the air in a swift, precise motion.


    In an instant, the entire dungeon appeared before them—as if a thousand unseen eyes had been watching it all along. The spell projected a vivid, living image of every corridor and chamber.


    Aiden’s eyes darted to the moving figures now filling the dungeon’s outer halls. Their armor gleamed in the dim torchlight, their badges emblazoned with an all-too-familiar crest.


    The Earl had come.


    Aiden didn’t hesitate. “We need to leave.”


    The Queen whirled to face him, her gaze locking onto his.


    Two seconds of silence.


    Two seconds of unspoken calculation.


    Her voice was low, measured. “I don’t want to lose my dungeon.”


    Aiden met her stare, his own voice unwavering.


    “You won’t.”


    "I will make sure the dungeon stays, whether the kingdom remains or not."


    The Spirit Queen didn’t understand, nor did she want to.


    The Spirit Queen wasted no time. With a flick of her wrist, she activated the teleportation rune, and before Aiden could blink, they were engulfed in a swirl of energy.


    When they reappeared, the air felt different—thick with an unfamiliar presence. The sky churned with mist, and the ground beneath them pulsed faintly.


    Aiden scanned the surroundings, frowning. This wasn’t the Spirit World he had visited before.


    “Where are we?” he asked.


    “To get more monsters for the dungeon,” the Queen replied without looking back.


    She walked ahead with purpose, but Aiden noticed the tension in her posture. Her steps were quicker than usual, her focus unwavering. He could tell she was worried—her dungeon was everything to her. The only thing she had left.


    They moved forward, passing creatures unlike anything Aiden had encountered before.


    First, they saw giant pandas, towering over them but oddly docile. Then came furious rabbits, darting through the landscape with unnatural speed, but they, too, lacked the threat or power Aiden was searching for.


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    A little further ahead, they found a pack of wild wolves. Strong, but common. The dungeon already had wolves.


    They were about to move on when the wolves suddenly froze in place. A silent, invisible pressure crushed the air around them, forcing the beasts to bow their heads before the Queen.


    Aiden exhaled. Even without lifting a finger, she commanded submission.


    Then, a disturbance ahead caught their attention.


    A group of high-level spirits were chasing something—a creature that stood out from the rest.


    A flamingo with a horn.


    Aiden’s vision blurred momentarily as a status screen materialized before him.


    [Ancient Flamingo]


    Spirit Level: Low


    Attributes: Water, Ice, Fire


    His breath caught. An ancient horned flamingo. A rare fusion of elements, and a beast with extraordinary potential.


    Without hesitation, he spoke. “We need to catch that bird.”


    Aiden took off running while the Queen moved to intercept the spirits chasing it.


    The flamingo flapped its wings, trying to take flight, but Aiden was faster. Chanting under his breath, he wove a spell into the air. The moment it activated, the bird''s movements halted.


    The flamingo let out a shriek, its eyes burning with fury as it fought against the spell’s hold.


    “How long do you plan to run?” Aiden asked, stepping closer.


    The bird glared at him. It understood him, but understanding didn’t mean submission.


    Without wasting time, Aiden activated a binding rune beneath it.


    The reaction was instant. The flamingo thrashed, flapping its wings wildly as it struggled against the magical restraints. The rune pulsed brighter, sealing the spell, locking the creature into submission.


    A notification flashed before Aiden’s eyes.


    [You have enslaved an Ancient Horned Flamingo.]


    The ancient horned flamingo was under him, but he wanted to give a name because he won''t go calling.


    He thought about the name and just like fire and ice I will call you Flame.


    The next moment a notification occurred.


    [The universal contract is formed.]


    The bird trembled, and for the first time, Aiden felt something unexpected—fear.


    The flamingo feared him.


    He wanted to speak, to reassure it, but a sudden explosion of energy interrupted his thoughts.


    The Spirit Queen was still fighting, surrounded by seven high spirits.


    Aiden’s expression darkened.


    They weren’t just strong—their teamwork was too refined, their movements perfectly in sync, as if they had trained together for years. Even the Queen, an elite spirit, was struggling against them.


    Who were they?


    Then, a roar split the air.


    The Queen turned just in time to see the flamingo rise beside Aiden.


    Her eyes narrowed. He had enslaved it already?


    Slaving a creature was one thing—controlling it was another. Even she had taken time to trust Aiden.


    What had he said to the flamingo?


    Before she could ask, the bird let out a cry. Flames and ice surged from its body, its wings glowing with unnatural energy.


    Aiden smirked. “Go massacre them.”


    The flamingo took flight, shooting forward in a blur of fire and frost.


    A beam of energy exploded from its beak, aimed straight at the high spirits. They scattered, barely dodging the attack.


    Aiden could already see the shift in momentum. The Queen and the flamingo together—it was over for their enemies.


    The leader of the high spirits barked an order, and within seconds, his forces retreated into the shadows.


    The flamingo wasn’t done.


    It raised its head, gathering energy, before unleashing an ice blast. The shards tore through the air, slamming into the fleeing spirits, sending several of them crashing to the ground.


    Silence followed.


    The flamingo landed, its wings folding neatly against its body.


    The Spirit Queen stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the creature.


    For the first time, she truly looked at it.


    The flamingo was stunning—its feathers shimmered in multiple colors, its horn pulsed with a quiet, ancient power.


    It was beautiful.


    She took a step closer.


    The flamingo tensed, watching her carefully.


    Aiden sighed, stepping beside her. “Relax,” he said, gesturing toward the bird. “She’s one of us.”


    The flamingo hesitated before finally lowering its head.


    The Queen reached out, brushing her fingers against its beak, then trailing them to its neck.


    Aiden smiled.


    Then, the ground trembled.


    A shockwave rolled through the air, rattling the trees, sending a pulse of energy across the land.


    Aiden, the Queen, and the flamingo exchanged looks.


    Something was coming.


    Without hesitation, they turned toward the source—and ran


    The Earl’s army surged into the dungeon, their armor gleaming under the dim glow of the entrance.


    Then, without warning, the dungeon’s gates slammed shut.


    A deep, echoing thud reverberated through the cavern, sealing half the army outside. No matter what they tried, the barrier remained unyielding. Those left behind banged against the invisible force, their shouts of confusion lost to the stone walls.


    Trapped.


    The Earl’s forces had no choice but to move forward, leaving half their strength behind.


    At first, the eerie silence of the dungeon unsettled them. There were no signs of monsters—only an unnatural stillness that gnawed at their nerves. But as they ventured deeper, the air grew heavier, thick with a sense of unseen danger.


    Then, the traps began.


    Arrows shot from hidden crevices, piercing through armor. Stones crashed down from above, crushing unsuspecting soldiers. Vials of poison shattered against the ground, releasing clouds of death.


    The army had never encountered a dungeon like this.


    According to the intelligence reports, it was supposed to be a low-tier, sea-level dungeon. But this… this was an intricate labyrinth of death. And it was massive.


    They pressed on, casualties mounting. The Earl’s men fell one after another, claimed by the relentless traps. Yet, not a single monster had revealed itself.


    Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.


    The deeper they ventured, the more their numbers thinned. A general, his face pale and bloodied, approached the Earl.


    “My lord… we’re on the losing side,” he said through ragged breaths. “We’ve already lost more than half of our soldiers to these—these traps. They’re unpredictable. Unlike anything we’ve faced before. And the most bizarre part…” His voice faltered as he looked around. “We still haven’t seen a single monster.”


    The Earl’s grip tightened around his sword. He had to make a choice. Retreat now and preserve what little remained of his forces, or—


    A howl cut through the air.


    Low and guttural, it echoed through the dungeon walls, followed by a deep rumbling beneath their feet.


    Then, the ground split open.


    Shadowy figures emerged—golems, their stone bodies grinding as they rose.


    Above, the ceiling darkened. Shapes moved.


    Then, they fell.


    Goblins, armed with jagged weapons, rained from the shadows, shrieking as they landed among the soldiers.


    Chaos erupted.


    The creatures attacked in perfect unison, as if they had been waiting for this moment. There was no time to regroup, no space to counter the onslaught. The Earl’s forces, already weakened, were thrown into disarray.


    It was a massacre.


    The Earl could only watch as his army was torn apart. He had fought in countless battles, faced monstrous foes, but never had he seen a dungeon so… prepared.


    He realized, too late, that they had walked into a death trap.


    Retreat.


    It was the only option left.


    He turned and sprinted toward the exit, a handful of survivors following in his wake. The dungeon was still sealed—until suddenly, as if mocking them, the entrance creaked open.


    Without hesitation, they bolted through.


    The Earl stumbled outside, gasping for air, his body covered in blood—some his own, most of it not. His men, those few who remained, collapsed onto the ground, their eyes hollow with terror.


    The soldiers waiting outside rushed forward, their expressions shifting from relief to horror.


    The army that had entered was gone.


    The Earl had led hundreds into what was supposed to be a simple dungeon raid.


    And in just thirty minutes, only a handful had survived.


    The Earl breathed heavily, his heart still pounding. He had escaped the dungeon… but he knew that survival would not last long.


    Not with the Duke waiting for him.


    The dungeon was a nightmare. But the Duke ??


    The Duke was a monster.


    And now, the Earl had no army left to protect him.