We entered the dungeon without delay, with Don immediately taking the lead. As we passed through the black hole-like boundary, the jungle’s sweltering heat and humidity vanished, replaced by a cool breeze brushing against our skin. Instead of the rocky cave I half-expected, we found ourselves in a grand hall lined with cold, gray stone. The air carried an almost regal weight, as though we had stepped into a forgotten palace—Irwen’s palace.
“Where are we?” Don asked, brandishing his sword.
One step in, I kept silent. Two steps, and something soft brushed against my shoes. Instinctively, I almost struck the ground with my whip before realizing—there was a plush red rug beneath us. I see. “It makes sense! We’re visiting Queen Irwen, Don. Were you expecting her to be chained up in some damp cave?” Truthfully, I had thought exactly about that.
We continued onward, undisturbed, without a single enemy ambushing us—a strange change from the norm. Usually, dungeons were crawling with foes lurking around corners or guarding treasure chests. Here? Nothing. Just an impossibly long hall stretching endlessly ahead.
Our careful footsteps echoed through the stillness, the only sound this dungeon had probably heard in decades. The walls were lit by magical torches casting dim, flickering red light, and the hall’s eerie silence stretched on for at least ten minutes until it cut off. A wooden door stood before us—not ordinary wood, but intricately adorned with gold, jade, and strange metals I couldn’t name. It seemed to tell an ancient elven story, sprawling across the massive door like a tapestry, capturing every detail of the thirteen testaments.
Don, unimpressed, pushed against the door with all his might.
Though the dungeon had been constructed centuries ago, the hinges gave way soundlessly. Wait! I wanted to yell, but it was too late. A tidal wave of mana washed over me, the normally invisible energy manifesting as a golden mist. It pressed me to the ground, so heavy I couldn’t even lift my head to see what lay beyond the now-open door.
Strangely, the mist seemed to leave Don untouched. How was he walking? Wait. When I played as a warrior, I used strength to counter magic effects, mostly to smash things. Maybe this dungeon worked the same way? Perhaps it was so second nature to Lucy she hadn’t thought to mention it, just like I never bragged about hurling stones at trolls. But how could I counter this?
Oh! That trick the old pervert taught me—circling mana within my core! I focused, imagining the mana inside me burning brighter, hotter.
And it worked for a change.
A strange blue fire erupted around me, repelling the golden mist. It wasn’t actual fire, just pure mana taking form in this environment, but it did the job.
Scrambling to my feet, I glanced around. Where are we? Only one word fit: throne room. The vast chamber stretched out before me, centered on a golden throne. Sitting upon it was an elven woman, encased within a degrading golden barrier. Huge chunks of it dissolved into the mist that had attacked me earlier.
I was so focused on her, I barely noticed the intricate frescoes on the walls. Her gaze pierced me, sharp and knowing, and I almost tripped over the smooth floor—no, it wasn’t the fault of my heels.
Her almond-shaped, star-like blue eyes seemed to analyze every fragment of my existence. Her silver hair, tied into a long, intricate braid, gleamed under the dim light. She wore her Elven-made battle uniform, its sharp lines a stark contrast to her poised elegance. Unconsciously, I stepped back. It was her. Queen Irwen, the rebel leader.
“Brother and sister, returning to their mother,” she said, her gaze locking onto me. “But only one comes back as an ally.”
What? Probably some story related nonsense. Wait. This wasn’t like Star Wars. The rebellion against the empire hadn’t started yet.
Don, unfazed, strode toward the barrier. The golden mist greeted him almost lovingly, but the closest he could approach was two hundred feet. There, he stopped and kneeled.
“My queen,” he said, his head bowed. “I await your orders.”
No way. Hey, hey, this wasn’t part of the deal! Irwen only nodded, and in that instant, the mist surged into Don.
That was bad. No, it was terrible. I bolted forward, desperate to stop whatever was happening. “Don! No!” But I was too late. His tag changed.
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Type: 5-epic | HP: 350/350</td>
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“My child, welcome.” Her icy voice sliced through the barrier mist with ease. “But you, bearer of the name Princess, are not welcome here. You return as an imperial noble, and such people have no place in our kingdom.” Her glare pinned me in place, and I felt my knees threatening to give out.
“Miss Irwen.” I struggled to hold her gaze, but my courage faltered. Lowering my eyes felt safer than letting fear seize my heart. “Your kingdom is now a suzerain of the empire, ruled by another dynasty. Every noble is imperial.”
Daring a glance upward, I caught the flicker of emotion in Irwen’s eyes. The surrounding air shimmered with mana, tangible proof of her legendary status. My voice wavered, but she finished my sentence for me, her tone vicious. “Human usurper.”Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
My blood boiled. She hasn’t changed at all. Her army was probably still somewhere in this palace, ready to rise. Main quest alert—this has to lead to insane rewards. But first, I pushed back. “It’s been over three hundred years!”
“What is that, if not insignificant?” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. “You died defending me, left for another world, and I have waited, and my time shall come. My army will rise, and every proud citizen will reclaim what is rightfully ours. You won’t stand in my way—you’re nothing but a shadow of the girl I knew.”
Her piercing gaze shifted to Don, and she gave him a sharp nod. “Prince, if you may. Remove your sister.”
What? Fight a level fifteen prince? Was this quest impossible or what? “Wait! Before you do that, I have a proposition for you.”
Irwen’s stoic expression returned as she shook her head. “You cannot stop your impending death. You have nothing of value to offer me anymore. My quest takes precedence over family.”
She was right. I was The Exploiter, but even I had nothing substantial to sway her. Fighting Don in this golden mist? Out of the question. But there was one thing—one secret—that could rewrite history. In a way, that worked for me.
“Uhm… Mother?” I tried. If she thinks I am her daughter, let’s play into that. “Not even the name of the demon of darkness? The servant of rules and death?”
Her brow furrowed, and she raised her hand. In an instant, the mist surged, wrapping around my throat and yanking me into the air. It dragged me closer to the throne—closer than the barrier should’ve allowed—choking me the entire way. I flailed helplessly, my strength utterly meaningless before her.
“What do you know about him?” Her icy voice chilled the air itself, though I noticed with a flicker of relief that I wasn’t cold. Wait… I remembered: I carried a legendary bloodline. Not inherent like hers, but I was still a hero. Ice and blood magic didn’t affect me. Wonderful. Everything else still could.
“Undead army. O-only one servant is f-foolish enough,” I croaked, struggling against the grip at my throat. Stop, you stupid bitch! My vision blurred, and in the corner of my sight, a timer materialized. It ticked away the seconds until my death. Five minutes. Do I really have to heal myself? Can I even?
Her piercing blue eyes locked onto mine again before she finally released me. I dropped like a stone, pain shooting through my left foot as I landed awkwardly. Wincing, I rolled on the ground. At least I’m alive.
“If you know his name,” she said, her tone sharp and commanding, “I will trade it for your safe passage back. Warn that traitor. Warn your foolish uncle.”
Safe passage? That’s it? I grinned, massaging my neck as I caught my breath. “Do you think this is a fair trade? I’m immortal. Kill me, mother, and I’ll just revive.” I paused for effect, grinning wider.
“At least throw in a tiara. Would you let your daughter go around with a tiara like this?” I pointed at the pitiful tiara I was wearing. “Maybe one of your jewels, too.” Haggling with Queen Irwen—if anyone could see me now…
Her lips tightened, but she conceded. “A crown and safe passage. You may be immortal, daughter, but if I harm your soul, at least the part you still carry, it will take you at least two weeks to reform your mortal body. By then, it will be too late to act.”
Nonsense. Nothing like this exists. But… “Deal.” There was no point in waiting. A tiara wasn’t just a trinket—it was the symbol of her kingdom and one of the rarest rewards in the entire game. Only three crowns—or tiaras—could exist, each tied to a lengthy, limited questline. Thanks, main quest. I’m about to snag one for free.
“Imperial. No, daughter,” she said, her voice cutting through my thoughts. “Tell us his name this instant.”
Well, not exactly free.
Limping on my injured foot, I hobbled toward the center of the room, finding enough space for the summoning. With a glance at Don, still kneeling obediently, I pointed at him. “What about him?”
Irwen flicked her hand, and the golden mist enveloped his head. Well, if you think that’s enough, Your Majesty. You’re the queen.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself and began. “Duwin Ianlee, I call thee.”
Darkness fell over the room in an instant. Every light extinguished, and even Irwen’s mist couldn’t hold back the encroaching black fog that filled the air. Before me rose an enormous figure, an eerie fusion of human and death, its immense form shifting and morphing with every blink of my eyes. It never stayed in one shape, each form more unsettling than the last.
“You dare, a mere mortal?” The voice thundered in my head, resonating with the same power as my god’s.
“I beg your pardon,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I know your name; I’m immortal, and I’m a hero. Not a mere mortal.”
I wanted to tack on something snarky, but before I could, my body froze. A sudden blue screen flashed in the corner of my vision, coldly informing me of exactly why I couldn’t move.
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Once again, the pleasant voice of a young man echoed in my mind: “Not possible to know the name. It has not been mentioned yet—different from beta. Reason for knowledge: unknown. Solution: a warning. Princess, please do not cheat.”
In the next instant, control of my body returned—or at least in theory.
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A deep smile spread across Irwen''s face, finally showing some emotion for the first time today. Something about her smiling like that wasn’t natural. It wasn’t a warm smile like Katherine’s or Lisa’s. It was a predatory smile, along with a feeling like seconds before a wolf descends on your exposed throat, killing you.
She rose from her throne and basked in the darkness - yes, she somehow sucked the black mist in. “Duwin Ianlee. We have an opportunity to reexamine our contract now.” Duwin withdrawn his deadly aura back in, but it was too late; Irwen knew his name. “As for you, Imperial, we may be enemies, but you are still my daughter. May my crown serve you well, Princess Princess. We shall meet again on a battlefield.”
Her golden mist hugged me, but this time it focused on my tiara, changing it. When I woke up today, I hadn’t expected this. Thanks to this still generating crown, perhaps I could play a big role in the upcoming rebellion.
Or not.
That was the right of The Exploiter!