Reverse Dungeon

The boulder was buried deep in the earth, nearly as large as Nameita himself—something no ordinary strength should have been able to move. Yet Nameita tore it free from the ground and hurled it with a powerful swing.

BOOM!

The impact split the tree apart with a deafening crash. The slave-village scoundrels who remained behind, too terrified even to scream, failed to escape the collapsing trunk.

“Argh!”

Nameita, the dwarf who understood Gorea’s brutality better than anyone, immediately sensed that something was wrong with his subordinates. They looked less like victorious warriors and more like men who had barely survived a crushing defeat.

‘Did they suffer an attack from the elves too?’

The thought made no sense. Elves rarely showed interest in the outside world, much less launched attacks against dwarves.

Then realization struck him.

‘Could it be...?’

A sudden flash of understanding ran through Nameita’s mind. At last, he understood why the elves had attacked both the village and himself.

From the very beginning, the elves had accused Nameita of “killing the World Tree.” Curious as he had always been about what the World Tree meant to the elves, Nameita knew better than most just how sacred it was to them. It was the cradle of their race—the symbol of divine grace and the source of life itself.

If something so precious had truly been destroyed by another race, it was only natural that the elves would come raging for vengeance.

But why were they so certain a dwarf was responsible?

The answer was painfully obvious.

Because a dwarf really had done it.

And Nameita knew exactly which dwarf was capable of such a vile act.

‘Gorea, you bastard...!’

The elderly scholar, never a man suited to leading others, felt fury overwhelm the calm composure he normally maintained.

“We have to catch them! Have you all forgotten what we trained for?”

“But the elves—”

“Forget the elves! Who is our real enemy?”

“Gorea’s faction!”

“That’s right! Our chance to drive those filth out has finally come!”

“Waaah!”

The dwarves who had followed Nameita to found Black Rock Village roared in agreement and charged forward.

Ahead of them, the surviving members of Gorea’s faction raised their hands frantically.

“H-Hey! We’re your kin—”

“You call me kin after threatening to stab me?”

“You filthy bastards!”

“Urgh!”

Rocks came flying. Struck from all sides, Gorea’s remaining followers turned and fled once more.

But then arrows descended from behind them.

THWACK!

One arrow sliced silently through the darkness and pierced the neck of the foremost fleeing dwarf.

“An ambush!”

“Where are they?!”

Panic erupted among the scoundrels.

Then a knight clad entirely in white stepped forward and blocked their path.

“Stop.”

His voice was quiet, yet absolute.

Gorea’s men recognized him immediately.

The holy knight who had killed Gorea.

The image of him hanging from the cliffside, radiating overwhelming power even in the darkness, was burned into their memories. Every dwarf who had witnessed it remembered the terror of seeing their once-human leader transformed into a howling monster.

“P-Please... spare us.”

“We surrender! We surrender!”

“We were deceived too! The ones who turned our leader into a monster were those people—”

Gorea’s surviving followers threw down their weapons and collapsed to their knees.

Keith stood above them, expressionless.

He had never once spared an enemy who begged for mercy. And when the enemy belonged to a non-human race that worshipped demons, there was even less reason to hesitate.

Just as he reached for his sword, the dwarves pursuing the fugitives arrived.

At their head stood the scholar Nameita.

The moment he saw the holy knight shining like a beacon amid the dark forest, he involuntarily swallowed.

The fleeing dwarves no longer even attempted escape. Faced with the knight, they merely trembled in terror and wet themselves where they stood.

“W-Wait.”

The word escaped Nameita instinctively.

He was certain the knight intended to slaughter every last one of Gorea’s followers.

Nameita had been furious when the scoundrels called ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) themselves his kin, yet that did not change the truth. No matter how different they had become, they were still dwarves. And Nameita, who dreamed of unity between all races, could not bear to see his own people executed without even being heard.

But the holy knight showed no hesitation whatsoever as he drew his blade.

“Did you not hear me?”

The instant their eyes met, Nameita realized something was deeply wrong with him.

The knight felt less like a person and more like a wall—cold, emotionless, utterly unmoved. He glanced at Nameita only briefly before raising his arm.

Nameita flinched.

Then the knight swung his sword.

“Hey!”

At that exact moment, someone stepped out from behind the trees.

A young human man with black hair and black eyes, carrying an almost harmless-looking innocence about him.

And yet, the first thing he did was casually praise the knight.

“You caught them.”

“Yes, Lord Ian.”

“......?!”

A chill raced down Nameita’s spine.

When had the knight sheathed his sword again?

But even more terrifying than the ghostlike speed of his movements was the expression now on his face. The same knight who had seemed utterly devoid of humanity moments ago was now looking at the man called Ian with warmth and quiet devotion.

Nameita could not understand what was happening, but one thing was clear.

This human named Ian stood at the center of it all.

Behind him stood several elves, and judging by their behavior, they were clearly familiar with him.

‘Humans... and elves are close?’

Nameita had never once heard of elves—those aloof beings who shunned the outside world—accepting humans as allies.

Yet the scene before him left no room for doubt.

For some reason, Ian even seemed to stand above them.

So Nameita spoke carefully.

“There’s been a misunderstanding. We didn’t kill the elves’ World Tree. Shameful as it is, our dwarven tribe split into two factions. These men... these scoundrels... they’re the ones responsible.”

“They attacked us!” one of the elves shouted angrily.

“I knew it was them. We were already close to war with their faction... We acted out of fear and attacked the moment outsiders approached the village without confirming who they were first. That mistake was mine. Please forgive us.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Don’t trust him, elf!”

“Urgh!”

The dwarves behind Nameita shouted abuse at the elves.

Dwarves and elves had never gotten along. Their territories overlapped throughout the forests, and the two races had spent generations insulting each other as “ignorant ironmongers” and “arrogant pointy-eared bastards.” Conflict between them had always been inevitable.

Things only worsened after the dragon that once protected the forest disappeared. Some dwarven legends even claimed the elves themselves had killed the dragon. Those stories always ended the same way:

“Elves are arrogant and treacherous. Never trust them.” 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

As a scholar, Nameita knew many such stories had been born from political necessity rather than truth, so he had never fully believed them.

“Enough. Stop.”

“Urgh!”

But his attempts to calm the situation failed.

Though Nameita was their chief, the dwarves who had followed him out of the village were fiercely independent by nature. They were not the sort to obey quietly.

The elf who had attacked Nameita earlier stepped forward, face flushed with fury.

“I gave you a chance because this was a request from our benefactor. And this is how you repay me?”

He drew his bowstring taut.

Tension instantly engulfed the clearing.

Elves and dwarves glared at one another, moments away from violence.

Then the person who shattered the silence was the human standing between them.

“Genea. Tie your brother up.”

“Yes.”

A female elf emerged silently from the forest and tackled the furious elf from behind.

Then—

Clink.

She shoved a bit into his mouth.

“......?”

“Mmph! Mmph!”

Bound hand and foot, the enraged elf writhed helplessly on the ground.

The dwarves fell silent.

None of them knew whether they should be more shocked by the fact that an elf obeyed a human without hesitation... or by the utterly absurd spectacle unfolding before them.

Nameita himself felt the same confusion.

But the world paid no attention to his bewilderment.

Ian stepped forward calmly.

“We came here to find the one responsible for killing the World Tree. Following the trail led us to two places: your village, and the village of those dwarves with their heads buried in the sand.”

“It wasn’t us! It was those bastards!”

Nameita protested instinctively.

“I can prove it,” he added hurriedly.

“I know,” Ian replied calmly.

“I already killed Gorea and all the demon-worshippers who followed him.”

“You killed who?!” Nameita’s beard practically shot upward in shock.

“Gorea. And the demon-worshippers who served him.”

“W-What else did you say you killed?!”

“...The demon-worshippers.”

“Oh no... You’re going to have to explain this properly...”

“Before that, I need to hear from Gorea’s subordinates.”

“What...?”

“Their testimony.”

Ian turned toward Genea.

“Can you question them? We need to know exactly what happened in your village.”

Genea nodded silently.

Her face, cold as carved ice, was shadowed with grief.

And in that moment, Nameita finally remembered where he had heard the name Ian before.

‘The hero of humanity.’

And he had come here... for the sake of the elves.

Unity between races.

Perhaps Nameita had finally met the person capable of achieving the dream he had pursued his entire life.

Ian walked toward Gorea’s surviving followers.

Nameita watched him nervously.

How would this human hero treat dwarves?

WHAM!

Ian kicked one of the kneeling dwarves hard enough to send him sprawling.

“Where exactly do you think you’re trying to crawl off to? Did we suffer through all that for nothing?”

“......”

‘Huh?’

...Is this really the man who’s supposed to fulfill my dream?