Reverse Dungeon

The Warikka trackers swelled their scale-covered hides.

Their heads were fishlike, with gills slit into their necks. Their lower bodies were sheathed in scales, yet unlike fish, they walked on two legs. Long fingers and toes were webbed, slapping wetly against the ground with every step. In water, they were unmatched. On land, they lost little of that strength.

They were monsters—hunters by nature, warriors by birth. Their craving for blood and dark energy was so absolute that it had driven them beyond the level of mere beasts and into demonic evolution.

When they caught sight of the fleeing humans, their hides ballooned with delight. Their scales parted, exposing the blood gleaming beneath—a biological display of pleasure.

Their flushed skin shone slick and red.

Human blood.

The dark energy born from human despair.

Dark energy to consume. Power to gain from it.

That was the instinctive goal of every monster.

The Demon Realm was a world ruled by strength. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Humanity had been driven to the brink of extinction, the Middle Realm swallowed whole by the Demon Realm. Reduced to prey, humans should have understood their place by now.

As one Warikka tracker puffed out its hide, the scales shivered and began to breathe.

Humans were close.

Found them.

The tracker threw back its head and vented blood in excitement. Blood burst from between its cracked scales, shot into the air, and exploded overhead.

The other Warikka, drenched in the spray, shared in the thrill as their own hides flushed crimson.

There. In that cave.

Stupid prey.

They had fled into a place with no escape.

Fifteen Warikka trackers plunged into the dark cavern, their hides swelling as they absorbed the cave’s moisture.

This battlefield suited them perfectly.

The damp that clung to the stone wrapped around their skin, soaking back into scales that had begun to dry and restoring them with fresh vitality.

“Ahhh! They’re here!”

“Run! Hurry!”

The smell of fear drove the humans into shrill panic as they fled deeper inside.

Splash, splash, splash!

The trackers slammed their webbed feet against the cave floor and surged after them. It looked as though the humans had tried, at first, to resist with branches—only to throw them away in their panic. As expected. Humans were helpless. Monsters, who despised weakness, found it only natural that humans existed as prey.

Drawing in moisture through every inch of their bodies, the trackers charged on. The moment they emerged from the long tunnel into the first open section of the cave—

Screeeech?!

A strange cry burst from them.

The ground gave way beneath their feet.

It was a pitfall. Barely.

The holes were no deeper than ankle height.

Screee!

The trackers trampled straight through them.

This wasn’t even a trap. It was the pathetic thrashing of cowardly prey trying to buy themselves a few extra seconds of life.

If # Nоvеlight # the humans had used those discarded branches to stab at the trackers caught in the ankle-deep holes, the outcome might have been different. But true to their nature, they had run instead. Even if they had fought, the trackers’ damp, slick hides would have deflected the blows. The humans should never have fled into the cave. Their best chance would have been to face the trackers on dry ground.

The scent of human flesh thickened until it stung the nose.

The tunnel ended.

There was nowhere left for the prey to run.

The humans had gathered at the far wall, huddled together with not the slightest sign of resistance.

The lead tracker spat blood—a signal to attack.

And then—

“Please!”

At that desperate scream, the trackers felt their bodies suddenly grow heavy.

What was this?

Slip—

One of the Warikka lost its footing.

Thud!

It crashed to the ground. The trackers rushing behind it had no room to avoid the obstacle in the narrow corridor, and one after another they stumbled, collided, and went down in a heap.

“Waaaah!”

“Throw it now!”

From above, the humans hurled branches down at them.

The lead tracker sneered at the prey’s stupidity.

Those wouldn’t do anything.

The fallen trackers began to recover their footing, preparing to charge again.

Then an arrow hissed through the air.

It flew quickly enough, but with no real force behind it. It simply struck the ground with a feeble clatter.

Screee! Screee!

The trackers mocked the humans’ last pathetic attempt at resistance—

and then the object tied to the arrow began to radiate heat.

Flames burst outward.

Fire raced across the cave floor and climbed their bodies in an instant.

...

The Warikka burned without managing a single scream.

The moisture they had so eagerly absorbed had come from puddles throughout the cave, all the way from the entrance to the final chamber where the humans had made their stand.

And in that final chamber, Sema had been casting .

It was a spell that performed terribly under pressure, and turning water into oil was not exactly a simple application of magic.

The mage had only succeeded after hundreds of attempts.

That slowness was exactly what his master had wanted.

“The slowness of weak magic.”

If Sema had been capable of turning water into oil in one clean cast, the monsters would have realized at once that what coated their bodies was no longer water.

Ian had watched in silence as each use of changed the cave’s moisture little by little.

“Liquid Property Manipulation! Ah! Liquid Property Manipulation! Agh?!”

Ding!

[Progress of Property Change: 1%]

Ding!

[Progress of Property Change: 2%]

By altering the liquid’s properties gradually, he had let the monsters soak up the cave’s dampness without ever realizing that something other than water was beginning to cling to their skin.

And then there was the trap.

From the beginning, Ian had never expected the humans to fight back against the monsters. No matter how terrifying a tyrant might be, wasn’t it only natural that an actual monster right in front of them would be even more frightening?

So instead of wasting breath on pointless orders like Fight back, Ian had given them simple, concrete instructions.

“Dig pits. They don’t need to be deep. Just enough to buy us time.”

There isn’t enough time for anything else anyway.

“Is... is that really enough?”

Someone had somehow found the courage to ask. Even in the middle of their panic, they were perceptive enough to realize that ankle-deep traps wouldn’t do much to monsters.

Ian didn’t have enough people.

In the original tutorial for Ian’s route, the only recruitable character was the three-star hero “Incompetent” Sema.

But here...

Maybe?

“What’s your name?”

“S-sorry! I’ll do as you say!”

Ian swallowed a sigh and tried again.

“Tell me your name. That’s an order.”

“I-I’m Peter! Sorry, sir!”

Tyrant mode is weirdly convenient.

Ian paused for a moment to think.

Ding!

[Character]

Peter the Farmer (★★☆☆☆)

[Reputation]

Farmer, Cheerful

[Skills]

Farming: LV.7

Level 7 Farming!

Ian clenched a fist.

He had been right.

In the game, you could only interact with characters who spoke to you first. But in this “tutorial,” Ian could ask for a name directly.

The status window gleamed, registering the two-star hero Peter the Farmer under Ian’s dungeon.

You can recruit subordinates here!

More importantly, the [Cheerful] trait was incredibly useful.

It helps keep morale from collapsing.

Characters with a cheerful disposition were naturally slower to fall into despair.

Granted, Peter had been wailing in despair just moments ago, but—

...Well.

In any case, Ian put Peter in charge of the pit traps and had him lead the others. The purpose of the pits was never to injure the monsters. They only had to interrupt their advance and create precious seconds of delay.

Every second mattered.

For Sema’s magic.

And for Ian’s archery, which was, frankly, appalling.

What exactly had this idiot been doing on all those hunting trips instead of leveling Archery?

In a way, Ian’s incompetence was almost impressive.

Even with skill assistance, his aim was abysmal. The only thing the skill seemed to improve was the way he nocked the arrow.

Once fired, the arrows wobbled through the air and dropped uselessly to the ground. Hitting the wall was out of the question. They could barely travel far enough to miss it.

“......”

The people who came back after digging the pits cast puzzled looks at Ian, but he continued practicing with perfect composure.

It doesn’t matter if the arrows fall short. I just need a little more range.

And in the end, that was enough.

Ding!

[Dungeon Defense Success!]

[Achievements]

Deaths:

Warikka Tracker ×1

Warikka Warrior ×10

Injuries:

Warikka Warrior ×4

[Outstanding Achievement!]

[Your reputation has increased.]

[Character]

Ian the Tyrant (★★★★☆)

[Reputation]

Tyrant, Bastard, Playboy, Lavish, Hedonist, Strategist (+NEW)