Chapter 3: My Dungeon Is Empty

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: My Dungeon Is Empty

Leaving the throne chamber, Ragnar walked through the familiar stone corridors. His footsteps echoed softly throughout the empty dungeon, each sound bouncing off the cold walls before disappearing into the silence.

The air carried a faint chill mixed with the scent of damp stone, yet there wasn’t the slightest trace of another living creature.

The dungeon was quiet.

Normally, these corridors would be filled with the growls of goblins, the rattling of skeletons, and the occasional roar of elite monsters patrolling their assigned territories.

Even if adventurers weren’t invading, there should have been monsters wandering around every corner.

Ragnar slowly shook his head.

"It really is just me."

The realization made the dungeon feel far larger than it actually was. Without monsters, traps activating, or the sounds of creatures moving through the halls, the entire place felt eerily lifeless.

After walking for several more minutes, Ragnar finally arrived at the dungeon’s entrance.

Unlike most dungeons hidden inside dark caves, his dungeon began with a beautifully crafted entrance hall.

Tall stone pillars lined both sides of the chamber, while intricate carvings covered the walls. Sunlight poured in through the massive entrance, illuminating the polished stone floor with a warm golden glow.

Beyond the entrance stretched a dense forest filled with towering trees and lush green vegetation. A gentle breeze caused the leaves to sway peacefully, creating a sharp contrast to the gloomy atmosphere inside the dungeon.

"So that’s the outside..."

Ragnar slowly walked toward the entrance. As soon as he attempted to step outside.

Thud.

His forehead struck something invisible.

"Ow..."

He instinctively rubbed his forehead before extending a hand toward the entrance.

The moment his fingers reached the boundary, they touched an invisible wall.

Ripples spread across the transparent barrier as though he had touched the surface of a calm lake.

"...Seriously?"

He pushed harder. Nothing happened, he punched it, kicked it.

Even leaned his entire body against it. The invisible barrier remained completely unmoved.

Ragnar sighed helplessly.

"So the restriction still exists."

Back in Dungeon Maker, Dungeon Bosses could never leave the entrance hall. No matter how powerful they became, they were forever confined within their own dungeon.

Ragnar stared at the beautiful forest beyond the barrier.

"I still don’t know whether I’m inside the game, or if I’ve somehow been transported into another world."

Everything felt unbelievably real.

He could feel the breeze brushing against his face.

He could smell the fresh scent of grass and trees drifting into the entrance hall.

Even the warmth of the sunlight felt genuine.

Just then, the bushes outside suddenly rustled.

Ragnar’s eyes immediately narrowed.

"...Hm?"

A pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared among the shrubs.

A moment later, a large gray wolf slowly stepped out into the open.

It wasn’t an ordinary wolf, its body was nearly two meters long, with thick muscles rippling beneath its silver-gray fur. Sharp fangs protruded from its mouth while its claws dug into the earth with every step.

The beast lowered its head and sniffed the air. Then, its eyes locked onto Ragnar.

A deep growl rumbled from its throat.

"Grrrrrr..."

Ragnar instinctively tensed.

The wolf cautiously approached the entrance before suddenly crossing the dungeon’s boundary.

To Ragnar’s surprise, the invisible barrier offered no resistance whatsoever.

Before he could think any further.

ROAR!

The wolf suddenly lunged forward with astonishing speed.

Its massive body became nothing more than a gray blur as it shot toward Ragnar, jaws wide open and aiming directly for his neck.

His pupils contracted.

His brain hadn’t even finished processing the danger.

Yet, his body had already moved. Almost instinctively, Ragnar reached behind his back.

His fingers wrapped around the massive hilt of the greatsword resting there.

Shing!

The enormous blade left its sheath with a crisp metallic sound.

The weapon was far heavier than any sword an ordinary human should have been able to wield.

Yet in Ragnar’s hands, it felt perfectly balanced.

As though it belonged there. As though he had carried it for decades.

The charging wolf reached him in the blink of an eye.

Without hesitation, Ragnar raised the broad blade horizontally.

Clang!

The wolf slammed into the greatsword with tremendous force.

The impact exploded through Ragnar’s arms, sending vibrations throughout his entire body.

His feet slid backward several meters across the stone floor before finally stopping.

Cracks spread beneath his boots from the sheer force.

"...Damn!"

Ragnar gritted his teeth as he steadied himself.

"If this were my real body..."

"I would’ve died just trying to block that attack."

Back on Earth, he had been nothing more than an ordinary office worker.

He rarely exercised, and a beast like this would have snapped every bone in his body with a single charge.

Yet now, although the impact had been tremendous, he felt perfectly fine.

His arms weren’t numb, shoulders hadn’t dislocated, and his grip remained as steady as ever.

The wolf landed gracefully before immediately preparing for another attack.

Its eyes glowed with murderous intent.

It circled Ragnar slowly, searching for an opening.

Ragnar instinctively adjusted his footing.

His breathing became calm. His heartbeat slowed.

He hadn’t consciously done any of it. His body simply knew the correct stance.

"...This..."

Ragnar looked down at himself in disbelief.

"I’ve never learned how to use a greatsword..."

"So why does this feel so natural?"

The answer became obvious almost immediately.

These weren’t his instincts, they belonged to the original Dungeon Boss.

The countless battles fought by this body had been engraved into its muscles.

Even though Ragnar possessed none of those memories. His body remembered every movement.

The wolf finally attacked once more. It leaped through the air, swinging one razor-sharp claw toward Ragnar’s head.

Instead of retreating, he stepped forward. His body twisted smoothly as the claw barely missed his shoulder.

At the same time, the greatsword swept upward in a powerful arc.

Whoosh!

The massive blade cut through the air with terrifying speed.

The wolf attempted to dodge, but too late.

Slash!

A spray of crimson blood erupted into the air.

The wolf crashed heavily against the stone floor, its body sliding several meters before finally coming to a stop. Fresh blood spread beneath its motionless corpse, staining the smooth stone crimson.