Chapter 17

Raven leaned back in the command seat of the Dungeon Control Room, a space only accessible to a Dungeon Sovereign—a hidden interface embedded deep within the dungeon's core. From here, he could oversee every corridor, trap, and enemy within his domain.

This was not a throne, and he was no king. The Control Room was a tactical hub, a ghost-layer stitched into the fabric of the dungeon's architecture. Lines of data flickered across floating panels, mapping out the terrain, showing enemy movement, and listing trap cooldowns in real time.

His smirk deepened as he studied the Bloodfeast guild through shifting spectral screens. They were expecting a battle. They had spent hours slaughtering phantoms, mining Abyssium Ore, and treating his dungeon like their personal farm.

They expected enemies to come charging at them.

But fear?

They weren't prepared for that.

Rather than throwing waves of monsters at them, Raven opted for something far more effective—breaking them mentally before breaking them physically.

The Veilshade Catacombs were named for their ever-present darkness, their twisting, disorienting corridors, and the unseen terrors lurking just beyond the edges of one's vision.

It was time to turn the dungeon itself against them.

🎭 Bloodfeast's Perspective: Unease Creeps In

At first, they didn't notice anything. The hallways looked the same, the eerie blue torches still flickering along the walls.

Then, the monsters stopped respawning.

A rogue frowned. "Hey… Where are the mobs?"

One of the mages glanced at his XP bar, eyes narrowing. "Are—are they respawned?They took a bit too long to respawned, don't you think? Are we getting a bug?"

Kryger, the guild leader, waved them off, his voice dismissive. "Relax. It's probably just a spawn cycle bug. We've farmed this place so hard the system needs time to catch up."

But the air felt different. The usual sounds of the dungeon—the occasional phantom wails, the whispering echoes, the distant shifting of stone—had stopped.

The silence wasn't comforting. It was oppressive.

🎭 Raven's Perspective: Shifting the Veil

Raven halted all monster respawns with a single command, ensuring the dungeon felt unnaturally empty.

Then, he activated 'Distortion Aura', a passive effect from the Phantom Seer that subtly altered the environment. The air grew thick, pressing against the Bloodfeast members like something unseen was watching them. Every breath they took felt heavier, every step echoing just a little too long.

Then, the torches flickered.

Once. Twice. Then they snuffed out completely.

Total darkness swallowed them.

The air turned thick, like an unseen weight pressing on their chests. The temperature dropped suddenly, their breath now visible in the unnatural cold. A faint, distant breathing sound filled the silence, too slow, too deep, like something enormous just behind them.

One of the rogues shuddered involuntarily, gripping his weapon tighter. "Did… did anyone else feel that?"

Another mage clenched his jaw, his voice lower than before. "Stop talking. Stay in formation."

Then the feeling of weight intensified, as if the shadows themselves were pressing in. They heard nothing but their own breathing—and something else. A whisper.

One rogue let out a sharp gasp, stumbling back. "Something touched me!"

But there was nothing there.

As the lights flickered back to life, they noticed something different. The corridors were no longer the same. Their exit path was gone. A hallway that should have led forward now twisted back the way they came. The rogue who had marked the wall with his dagger? The mark had vanished.

Kryger gritted his teeth, gripping his weapon. "Let's get out of here. Keep moving. Eyes ahead."

But his team wasn't listening anymore. They were staring at the shifting halls, their nerves unraveling.

Raven smirked, watching from his control room. "Perfect. They didn't even realize the dungeon changed around them."

🎭 Raven's Perspective: Turning the Screws

Raven watched their nervous glances, their shifting stances. They still believed they were in control. That was fine. Breaking confidence was a slow process.

He increased the phantom whispers, a trick from Haunting Echoes that caused the dungeon to produce false sounds—soft footsteps in the distance, distant battle cries, the occasional sharp intake of breath just behind them.

As Bloodfeast struggled through the dungeon's labyrinth, Raven smirked and rewound the dungeon's recordings from last night's PK battles, and chuckled to himself as he put up the part into the Haunting Echoes command.

No real threats. Just fear.

Let's see you wet your pants in your capsules...

🎭 Bloodfeast's Perspective: Isolation & Disorientation

Kryger kept his stance strong, his heavy armor a silent anchor. "Focus up. No need to panic. It's just a dungeon mechanic."

But his guildmates weren't so sure. The silence was too heavy.

One rogue kept checking over his shoulder. "I swear I heard something breathing behind me."

The mages clutched their staffs tighter. There was no sound, no movement—not even the usual environmental ambiance of the dungeon.

Then, the echoes began.

Haunting Echoes triggers, playing back past combat sounds—echo heard through the dungeon wall, repeated something worse: the screams of their PK victims.

Bloodfeast had ganked dozens of players in this dungeon—players who begged, cursed, or cried in rage as they were cut down. Now, those voices echoed back at them.

A raw, agonized scream tore through the halls, followed by a desperate plea. "No—no, please! Not my gear!" The sound twisted into a furious growl. "You bastard! I'll find you! I'LL KILL YOU!"

A rogue froze, blood draining from his face. "That… that was from last night…"

Another scream. Louder. The exact words of a mage they had slaughtered only hours ago. The voices weren't just sounds—they carried rage, anguish, fear.

A rogue whipped around, weapons drawn. "Who the hell just whispered my name?"

But no one did.

🎭 Raven's Perspective: Feeding the Madness

He watched their paranoia grow. Not enough yet. They need to split up.

He adjusted the Veil of Lies, so one corridor loops endlessly, and another suddenly leads back to where they started.

The mages notice first. "Wait… didn't we come through here already?"

The rogue tries marking the wall with his dagger.

A minute later, they pass by it again—but the mark is gone.

Their movement becomes jittery, uncertain. They aren't sure where they are anymore.

"Good," Raven thought. "Now, let's make them doubt each other."

The dungeon's true horrors were only beginning to unfold..

🎭 Bloodfeast's Perspective: The First Death

The dungeon's torches sputtered violently. Then—total darkness.

Silence.

Then, a distant, metallic scrape echoed through the hall. Like rusted steel grinding against stone.

Kryger swallowed hard. His grip tightened on his weapon. "Stay together."

Then—light. But not theirs.

A faint, sickly glow flickered ahead. The kind that didn't belong in this dungeon.

The Lantern of Truth.

The mage's breath hitched. "No… That's not supposed to activate here…"

The lantern's glow pulsed, washing over the corridor—revealing everything hidden in the dark.

Something was standing among them.

They know it's The Silent Warden, the miniboss of this dungeon. But usually the boss is standing still in the middle of a bright room!

In the total darkness, the Silent Warden lantern, Lantern of Truth, is shining bright. Without the same mechanic, and in total darkness, everyone psychologically stares at it.

"Lantern of Truth did not supposed to—" The lantern's glow revealed too much.

In that brief flash, the Silent Warden was there.

A towering knight in rusty armor, its massive broadsword resting on the ground.

But it had no head.

The glow flickered. The Warden didn't move.

Total darkness—followed by another pulse of light.

It was closer.

A rogue stumbled back. "H-how is it—"

Another total darkness before pulse of light.

The Warden's sword was now raised.

The mage's breath hitched. "Oh sh—"

The light vanished.

Silence.

Then, a single, clean slice sound.

The mage never screamed.

The next time the light flickered, his avatar was already splitting apart, HP dropping to zero in an instant.

But when the next light pulse flickered, they can see between the flicks of light, Silent Warden broadsword impaled the mage and his HP drained to zero rapidly.

The mage wasn't responding. His eyes were wide. Unblinking.

For a full three seconds, they all didn't move, didn't breathe. Mesmerized as the grotesque sight before them.

Then the dungeon turns to darkness again. They can hear the mage gasped for air as if he had been drowning. Then the usual flickers of force logout.

"RUN TO THE NORTH!" Kryger voice hoarse as he give command. They have to escape from Silent Warden.