Reverse Dungeon

Genea held her breath.

The youngest ranger sent out on reconnaissance had yet to return, and the spirits had informed her that the demons had changed their route.

The nearby elf village had been discovered.

She immediately dispatched a spirit to relay the news to Ian. His response had been simple:

“Hold them at the village.”

And so Genea waited there, following his orders.

Cold sweat ran down her back.

She was not someone easily shaken. Even when branded a traitor and hunted by her own people, she had managed to remain calm. But this tension was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

And she was not the only one.

Every elf gathered there felt it.

Not long ago, they had lost their homeland to the demonic creatures.

The fear that this village might also be erased... the terror of facing the infamous Demon Archduke... it made every fine hair on their bodies stand on end.

“What’s wrong with everyone? Why are your faces like that?”

“Moiken.”

“Stop looking so pathetic! Remember the pride of the elves! Aren’t you ashamed before Mother Nature herself?”

Moiken had returned late to the command post after checking on the condition of the rangers, and the moment he saw their expressions, irritation spread across his face.

“Indeed, Moiken. Very brave of you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared too, Genea?”

“I am.”

“What?” Moiken snarled.

But Genea remained perfectly calm as she continued.

“We’re facing a Demon Archduke. Courage alone won’t be enough against him. Being tense is natural.”

“So long as that tension doesn’t leave us unable to draw our bows.” Moiken bared his fangs.

“Cowards, get out! Run away if you want! Is that what this is? Are you unhappy about standing on the front line? Do you think the human hero is using us as sacrificial lambs?”

“No one said that. Unless you’re the one thinking it?”

“Who said that!?” Moiken flinched.

“Caught you, Moiken.” Genea gave a faint smile. “I won’t blame you for it. I thought the same thing for a moment myself.”

“Me too...”

“Are we really not just sacrifices?”

The elves slowly, hesitantly raised their hands.

As though trying to crush the same doubt within himself, Moiken exploded in anger.

“You dare call yourselves elves while clinging to your lives like this? Ungrateful cowards...!”

“Indeed, Moiken. You’re right.” Genea nodded calmly. “My life was saved by my master. Regretting it now would be pointless. I think... I was simply afraid that my decision might lead to this village being destroyed as well. But even without orders, we would still have had to stop that demon. Otherwise he would crush the village without resistance.”

“Indeed, Genea! That is the resolve expected of one bearing our family name!”

“And likewise, Moiken. I knew you weren’t that kind of elf.”

The siblings found common ground at last.

The other elves watching them fell silent.

The suffocating tension that had hung over the command post eased, if only slightly.

Then suddenly, one of the spirits froze in midair before dropping lifelessly to the ground.

Its clone had been destroyed.

The shock had traveled back to the original.

“...They’re here.”

“Let’s see what we can do.”

“I’m going.” Moiken immediately moved to gather the rangers.

Could this work?

There was no way to know until they tried.

Within the ‘Forest Dungeon’ designed by Genea’s master, only civilian elves remained in the central area.

The rangers had been assigned elsewhere.

Even without formal combat training, elves were still beings naturally attuned to spirits.

But could they truly stand against a demon?

Not an ordinary member of the demon race, but a titled demon—a Demon Archduke?

Again, only trying would reveal the answer.

The spirits they had lived alongside their entire lives bloomed at their fingertips.

Mist descended over the forest surrounding the village.

Soon, the woods transformed into something entirely different.

The maze had activated.

The demons were drunk on blood.

“AAAAAAAH!”

An elf observing them from afar never even «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» realized when he had been caught.

As he watched himself being devoured alive, terror shattered his mind so completely that he forgot even the shape of his own body.

He died insane.

The demon sucked on the elf’s corpse as though savoring candy.

Moiken’s eyes turned bloodshot.

“It’s pointless, Captain. Even if we go now, there’s nothing we can do.”

Hiikan, vice-captain of the ranger corps, spoke quietly beside him.

Moiken was hot-blooded by nature. Once enraged, he often caused disasters no one could contain. If not for his ghost-like skill with a bow, he never would have risen to command the rangers.

‘Was the First Archer truly suited to lead the rangers as well?’

Hiikan found himself revisiting the doubt he had carried for years.

Being the finest archer did not necessarily make someone capable of calmly leading others.

— We need to gather every ranger and rescue our people enslaved by the demons.

— Every elf with healthy limbs should undergo ranger training. The entire village must become warriors.

Whenever Moiken proposed such extreme measures, it was always Hiikan’s duty to stop him.

He constantly feared that one day the captain would lose himself completely and drag everyone into catastrophe.

“I know.”

But there was something Hiikan failed to understand.

Moiken was not someone who caused chaos because he lacked reason.

He was simply desperate.

Every time he saw his kin humiliated, tortured, and dragged away in chains by demons, despair consumed him.

He had fought desperately not to drown in that despair.

He had never intended to drag the village into ruin.

He simply believed something had to be done.

Should the elves cast aside all pride and die miserably?

He could never accept that.

The radical strategies he proposed were not born from recklessness.

They were the desperate struggles of someone trying not to go mad.

The human hero who had saved them.

No—

Had ‘Hero’ Ian cornered them like this?

Moiken did not think so.

And even if he had... what difference would it make?

Moiken was the son of a great warrior, the village’s First Archer, and the greatest ranger among the elves. Though he had not inherited the title of Great Warrior like his father, he was still the strongest fighter among his people.

He would never retreat.

Weren’t demons enemies they would eventually have to fight regardless?

SLAP!

“You useless vermin. Move faster.”

“There’s no helping lesser creatures.”

The demons laughed cruelly.

‘A litter?’

At first, Moiken thought they were carrying a coffin.

Then he realized what it truly was.

The ones bearing the litter were dwarves stripped to the waist, their bodies covered in whip marks.

“Those bastards...”

“I know.”

Moiken looked moments away from losing control.

Those dwarves came from White Rock Village—the slave village that had recently fallen.

A filthy race that enslaved others for profit.

Moiken felt no sympathy for the misery they now suffered.

But the ones who bought those slaves had always been demons.

Watching the dwarves become little more than extensions of the demon race before ending up as slaves themselves left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“What a pathetic sight.” Moiken spat the words out viciously. “So this was the end they earned after selling their racial pride and becoming slave traders?”

“Captain.”

This time, Hiikan’s warning clearly meant: Lower your voice. Calm down.

“I know. ...Ready.”

Moiken gave the signal.

The waiting elf rangers simultaneously reached for their quivers.

The oil-treated bows bent smoothly.

Draw.

Nock.

Aim.

Each elf held their breath so even the beat of their hearts would not disturb their shot.

Moiken did the same.

The smell of sweat... the anxiety, fear, and tension...

All of it vanished from his awareness.

Through the thick canopy of leaves, all he could see was the blurred silhouette of his target.

But that was enough.

SSSK—

The elves were a race beloved by nature.

And now, the forest itself moved.

Trees that had concealed both the rangers and the demons suddenly bent aside as though bowing low. Birds startled into the air, and a brief silence swept through the woods.

The demons reacted a single beat too late.

“You lesser—!”

The insult never finished.

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

Dozens of arrows exploded from the bowstrings at once.

The lead demon was instantly turned into a pincushion.

For the first time in a long while, Ian felt as though he had returned to modern times.

To him, the greatest difference between reality and the game world had always been multiplayer.

Not the simple idea of “playing with friends.”

What mattered was the player’s ability to oversee countless screens at once and intervene everywhere simultaneously.

No sane developer designed a defense game to be played entirely in first person.

Reverse Dungeon followed the standard rules of the genre. It gave players an overhead perspective, allowing them to monitor the entire battlefield at once.

Managing multiple locations throughout the dungeon and responding to problems in real time—

That was the player’s role.

‘CCTV really is the best.’

And right now, Ian was experiencing that same sensation again.