Ghost Knight King's Dungeon Project

Chapter 26 [Lord of Kana, King of the Blood-Rusty Raven]

In the very center of the Kanas Plain sits a megalithic formation composed of white stone pillars. The tall white stone pillars, topped with spikes, encircle a charred igneous rock temple at the center.

Igneous rock comes from lava layers deep underground. The monarch used the power of the earth-devouring demon worms to extract rocks from the depths of the earth, and then whipped the slaves to transport the igneous rock to the surface, where it was used to build the entrance decorations for the underground city.

The open ground at Stonehenge was filled with long poles, each topped with a skull of someone who had trespassed into the dungeon over the years, and wild battle banners made of raw leather. The fluttering leather banners were smeared with faded, filthy blood and reddish-brown iron pigment, and depicted ravens with outstretched wings.

Most of the poles had been cut down by adventurers who entered the dungeon, but some still stood, like a warning that was a mixture of cruel kindness and gentle malice, carrying an arrogant superiority.

There are no sculptures or statues in the temple. On the altar platform, there is only a huge white stone, a specialty of Kanas. It is empty, pure, plain, and clean, with only the clearly visible stone texture.

Some believe this white stone is a symbol of the primordial natural deities of the Kanas Plain. Before entering the dungeon, some adventurers would place dried bread or cheap potions before the stone as offerings, offering prayers for good luck on their adventure. When leaving the dungeon, they would also take some symbolic spoils from their hunt and place them before the stone.

Some adventurers believe the boulder is a symbol of Valak, the lord of the Kanas Plain, a crude sculpture of the demon king, and scoff at the former's practice of offering the white stone for good luck. But they are ultimately in the minority. After all, people always need to believe in something, no matter what.

Behind the white stone altar of the temple is a huge stone staircase covered with loose soil. The rough rock passage is wide enough to accommodate a dozen chariots side by side, and it leads diagonally to the dark underground space, leading to the underground city of Kana, the city of the demon king Valak.

The Kanas underground city is only medium-sized, and it is divided into five rings.

The outermost ring is the fifth ring, a labyrinth of insect tunnels filled with primitive ecology. The space is intricate and complex, with tunnels presenting a chaotic three-dimensional loop shape, and filled with a complex demonized ecosystem.

Various carnivorous plants and strange magical beasts lurk within, hunting and preying on each other to obtain the magical essence within their prey, forming a cruel food chain. The root tribes of the Rotten Root Ball have also taken root here, setting up numerous primitive traps, from thorny animal traps to tripwire spikes, from rolling logs to poisoned darts—all sorts of insidious and vicious killing mechanisms, using the most rudimentary malice to carry out the most efficient hunt.

However, over the years, adventurers have continuously left their mark in the insect maze, clearing dangerous monsters along the way, and have already opened up a safe tunnel that runs through the fifth ring and directly to the fourth ring.

The fourth ring is the slave labor zone, where numerous cave dwellers dig and build, constructing magnificent sculptures and sturdy buildings for the monarch, forging weapons and handicrafts, and smelting them using geothermal magma and enchanted fire generated from burning enchanted materials. This ring is far richer than the fifth, with numerous temporary gold mine storage facilities, cave dweller forging warehouses, and warehouses of relics collected by cave dwellers from previous generations of adventurers—a veritable goldmine of wealth—provided you have courage, wisdom, strength, intelligence, and a bit of luck.

The cave dwellers are a brutal race that lives by living in underground worm tunnels. They are strange, pale humanoid creatures, with a form somewhere between a large-mouthed worm and a human. They fear sunlight, and their eyes have degenerated to the point of almost disappearing. Their eyesight is very poor, but their sense of smell and hearing are very keen. Their huge, jagged mouths take up two-thirds of their faces, while the remaining third is occupied by narrow nostrils and bean-sized, degenerated eyes.

Their skin was pale and thick, their bodies strong and savage, and they lived in the wild in the savage manner of primitive tribes. But the Demon Lord found them, subdued and ruled them with absolute violence, and taught them mining, forging weapons and armor, building, carving, and also taught them more complex techniques of warfare and killing.

Under normal circumstances, the fourth ring of the Kanas underground city is equipped with even more vicious caveman traps, filled with cave warriors and shamans, and even heavily armored caveman war knights, and should not be easily breached.

However, for some unknown reason, when the 257-person adventurer party arrived at the fourth ring, the fourth ring seemed to have been the site of some kind of massacre.

Someone, or rather, a group of well-trained soldiers, reached the fourth ring before them.

When the adventurer party reached the fourth ring, numerous cave dweller warriors lay dead on the ground. The blood from their sword wounds appeared to have been sucked away by something, leaving them shriveled and rotten. The cave dwellers' forged weapons were broken, their armor shattered, and the metal fractures even gleamed with a strange, blood-red hue.

In short, the adventurer party had 212 members remaining when they traversed the damaged fourth ring. This casualty ratio was already considered extremely lucky.

With the help of level nine, ten, and eleven adventurers, and an unprecedented number of adventurers, the team successfully breached the damaged fourth ring and set up camp in the garden complex of the third ring.

The third ring is close to the core of the underground city, located beneath a huge underground dome. Architecture and ecology are integrated in a meticulously designed and magnificent way. Lush vines intertwine with black stone fortresses, wild beasts roam among the underground forests and bushes, and bridges connect the load-bearing towers that support the dome, forming an intricate three-dimensional road network.

The walls and railings of the underground world are carved with intricate reliefs, covered with vines and moss, and illuminated by the bright, luminous fungi and plants and animals on the dome, making it as magnificent as a starry night, surpassing even the palaces of human kings.

Demons are often born artists, architects, and exceptional craftsmen, pouring their passion into every detail with an almost obsessive enthusiasm. They have a particular fondness for the fusion of ecology and architecture, and under their direction, the entire underground world is ultimately transformed into works of art. Even a sculpture, a painting, or a small craft can fetch a high price at auction in the human world on the surface, with countless noble collectors willing to compete for the exquisite masterpieces crafted by demon artisans.

The third ring is the area inhabited by demonized human followers who, for power, knowledge, longevity, and various other reasons, betrayed humanity, joined the Demon King, and pledged their loyalty in exchange for demonic rewards.

Within a Blackrock fortress that had already fallen in the Third Ring Road, nearly a hundred enormous tents were stationed. This was the adventurers' frontline camp.

Strange supports were erected above the tents, covered with a tough, web-like material—the web of the spider-like monster "Hanging Demon," used to defend against the Demon King's horde of beasts hurling boulders from the air.

The camp was surrounded by simple ballistae and cannons, which were seized from the armory of the cave dwellers in the fourth ring and enhanced by several dwarven hammer-wielders in the group.

Countless enchanted materials were piled up in the camp. White-shelled flowers, which cost tens of gold coins each outside, were hastily bundled into large rolls and tossed aside in a corner. Expensive organ mushrooms were being poured into boiling potions in alchemical cauldrons by a dozen potion makers, carried in large iron basins. The carcasses of powerful and terrifying magical beasts were being dismantled; the smooth sharkskin of the Earthsea Ambush Hunter and the sword sheaths of the Swordsman Insects were haphazardly piled on carts.

High-level adventurers of level seven and above came and went, excitedly collecting handfuls of enchanted materials. They shouted "Heave-ho!" and worked together to carry the huge monster corpses they had just hunted on their shoulders, like ants on a march carrying their prey.

One of the dwarves who was helping to carry the monster's corpse was too short and was hanging in mid-air while holding onto the monster, trying to exert force by kicking his calves.

Inside the central tent, an adventurer stood quietly, holding a long spear, staring blankly at the map of the surrounding area of ​​the Third Ring Road drawn on the tent wall.

He wore armor covered in intricate magical runes and a deep red robe. His helmet covered his face, revealing only half of his chin and a pair of gloomy eyes.

The spearhead in his hand was made from a single, rough piece of flint, faintly glowing with strange charcoal embers.

"Augusta." The voice of the useless, meddlesome level seven magic swordsman came from behind him.

What was his name again? Norman Passat? He volunteered to transport grain, but insisted on having twenty adventurers of level seven or higher accompany his team? Augusta wondered.

He didn't answer. He just continued to study the map.

“Augusta,” Norman Passat’s voice repeated, “we’re out of food—even with the antidote mixed with rice, we won’t last more than a few days.”

"The city of Fallenthorn and the border towns of the empire have been drained dry by this unprecedented large-scale adventure, and they will not be able to gather much food in the short term."

"So what? What are you trying to say? You idiot who can't even transport two cartloads of grain properly?" Augusta turned around, her deep red robe fluttering like flames.

“I said before I set off that I needed at least twenty adventurers of level seven or above to ensure the food transport would go smoothly,” Norman replied in a low voice. “But you disagreed. I tried to recruit volunteers, but no one was willing to temporarily give up the opportunity to continue scavenging expensive enchanted materials and go back with our team to transport food—the specter of greed has already gripped everyone.”

“You mean, transporting several cartloads of grain across the Kanas Plain, which is only infested with wild dogs and low-grade bone scraps,” Augusta repeated, “requires twenty adventurers of level seven or higher?”

“Yes,” Norman replied.

silence.

"Do you have paranoia, you idiot?" Augusta asked gently. "Or are you saying that despite having the empty title of a level seven magic swordsman, you can't even beat wild dogs and bone trash?"

“They have complex and cunning tactics, and they have to simultaneously intercept the commander and guard the supply wagons. Our squad only has five people, and we are severely understaffed…” Norman subconsciously defended himself.

Bang! The table was smashed to pieces by Augusta's flint spear, and the broken pieces of wood smoldered and began to burn.

“You can get out of here,” Augusta said.

“We should all evacuate,” Norman said quietly. “Hunger is spreading through the camp, and most people are already struggling to keep up. You’re an eleventh-level adventurer, so maybe you can hold out longer, but the others…”

"Get lost. Useless trash." Augusta didn't even bother to look at him again. "Twenty years. My parents were both adventurers, and they both died in the dungeons of Valak. Valak killed my parents, and I fought for twenty years to finally get here. Now the opportunity for revenge is right in front of me."

“You can’t kill everyone for your revenge,” Norman advised. “We’ve already made enough. This trip has far exceeded our expectations, with a net income of several hundred thousand gold coins per person. It’s time to retreat.”

"Moreover, if we really destroy Valak's dungeon, then there will be no need for adventurers to exist in the entire Kana Plain. Without the nourishment of the demon dungeon, the thriving, highly demonized ecosystem will soon collapse, and all the adventurers in the Kana Plain will be unable to make ends meet through exploration, adventure, and loot collection. This is overfishing—a term from my hometown, meaning if you fish out all the fish fry this year, you won't be able to fish anymore next year..."

Whoosh! A wave of heat hit him, the scorching flint tip just two inches from Norman's throat. He swallowed the rest of his sentence, feeling the sweat on his neck evaporate as the smoldering flint tip dried it.

“I told you to get lost. I won’t repeat myself a fourth time.” Augusta slowly sheathed her spear. “If you want to retreat, then retreat on your own, you piece of trash. I won’t stop advancing at a time like this.” “I’ll tell all the adventurers in the camp about the current situation,” Norman replied. “Let them decide for themselves.”

"Whatever." Augusta continued to stare blankly at the map on the wall.

He heard Norman Passat emerge from his tent and shout about the current situation in the camp, frankly taking responsibility for the failed grain transport and pointing out that if everyone evacuated now, they would each have at least several hundred thousand in net income.

“Those who are willing to evacuate with me now, please raise your hands,” Norman shouted outside the tent.

Augusta snorted and strode out of the tent. He watched as about a third of the men raised their hands, a third hesitated, and a third continued toward the gathering point outside the camp while cursing Norman for his incompetence.

“I am aware of the current food situation and understand your concerns.” He looked around.

Everyone fell silent, watching the leader of this operation, the level eleven adventurer, [Flame Thorn] Augusta.

“You are free to choose,” he said.

“Those who want to evacuate, just evacuate with Norman Passat,” Augusta shouted. “However, according to the rules of adventurers, when we break through the second ring and core area of ​​the Demon King’s castle, only the heroes who stay behind will be entitled to share the spoils.”

The crowd was abuzz with discussion, with teammates debating whether to retreat now or stay a little longer.

The resources in the inner ring of the dungeon are worth more than gold, and almost every high-level enchanted material and demonic artifact can be displayed at auctions in the habitable zone.

"We've already acquired nearly a million worth of loot per person! If we can safely bring these demonized supplies back to Fallenthorn City, most of the adventurers can even return to the habitable zone with their money and retire immediately!" Norman shouted. "The food shortage is a wake-up call for us; it's time to retreat!"

“Indeed, I also suggest you retreat,” Augusta shouted. “However, I will stay. The winds and waves favor the brave. Warriors who want to be richer than a kingdom, warriors who want to pursue ultimate power, mages and potion-makers who want to pursue ultimate truth, can also stay with me. The choice is yours.”

Chaos. Utter chaos. People were arguing and debating in the camp.

After several hours of chaos, the crowd split into two groups: one group of adventurers continued gathering and hunting, while the other group began packing up their spoils and preparing to leave.

Of the 13 level 9 adventurers, 11 chose to stay.

Both level 2 adventurers remained.

“I suggest you leave as well, Augusta,” Norman said, looking at his leader with concern.

But Augusta had already turned and left.

Norman Passat sighed.

“Don’t worry, old friend, Kara-Za—[Flamethorn], he’ll be fine.” A familiar, gruff voice came from near his elbow, muttering in broken dwarven words, “He’s an eleventh-level adventurer.”

“I hope so, old friend.” Norman looked down at the dwarven hammer-wielder beside his elbow, who was carrying a pickaxe.

"I support you, Longlegs-Norman," the dwarf with the brown beard laughed heartily. "It's time to call it a day. Although I'd love to fight the Demon King, it's just too unfair if we don't have anything to eat. If you ask me, we should only fight when both sides are full!"

“Yes, Barkley.” Norman stared blankly into the distance from the underground dome, where the magnificent outline of the Demon King’s fortress was clearly visible in the shadows. “If only everything in the world could be fair.”

"Thinking too far ahead! Let's dig at the rocks in front of us first! If we keep digging at rocks, we'll eventually find gold. It's just a matter of time." The dwarf Barkley chuckled and turned to go find his team to carry away their spoils.

Norman closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. When he opened them again, the little mage in his party had already gathered around him.

"Uncle Norman?" she asked. "Did he take the blame for us again?"

“I’m not taking the blame for you; this is my problem. I messed things up myself, so of course I have to take responsibility,” Norman Passat explained calmly. “Get ready to go… You’ll earn several hundred thousand gold coins on this trip, so you can go back to the capital, Floren.”

"...Go back to...go back to what?" The little mage was stunned.

“I promised your mother I would take good care of you, Julian.” Norman leaned down and placed his hand on the little mage’s shoulder. “I left the capital of Florence and traveled thousands of miles to become an adventurer in order to earn tuition for you at Lunos Academy.”

"Now that you've graduated successfully and even passed the Silver Star Crest exam, I'm continuing as an adventurer to earn money for you to pass the Gold Star Crest exam and join the [Star Tower]—you're a little genius, and it would be a waste of your talent to be an adventurer in the wasteland and dangerous dungeons."

"The money from this trip is enough for you to pass the Golden Star exam. You can go back to the capital of Florence. You've suffered with me in this godforsaken place for the past two years since graduation. It must have been tough for you."

"I..." the little mage hesitated, "I... I don't want to go back."

“Listen to me. This is your mother’s last wish.” Norman didn’t say much, but turned to pack up the spoils of war. “I promised your mother.”

"I want to continue being an adventurer," came the little mage's voice from behind.

Norman ignored him.

……

The camp was quickly emptied by half, and the moment half of the adventurers disappeared, the ground suddenly began to shake violently.

Boom!

The escape route to the fourth ring suddenly exploded open, and a cluster of drill-like spiral teeth blocked the exit, sealing the remaining half of the adventurers in the third ring of the dungeon!
“Oh, the Earth-Eating Demon Worm.” Augusta stood on the high ground of the fortress on the side of the camp, calmly watching Steel Fang, which had blocked the retreat route.

Hahahahahaha!

The arrogant laughter echoed between the buildings on the Third Ring Road, the man laughing so hard he could barely breathe!

The laughter of the Lord of Kana echoed beneath the dome, and in an instant, hundreds and thousands of demonic crows flew out from the distant castle, swirling like a storm beneath the dome.

On the elevated bridge between the fortresses, groups of black-robed figures crouching there suddenly appeared. Some extended their arthropod claws and descent upside down along the silken threads, while others spread their giant wings and hovered above the camp. Some revealed their thick, scaly claws, while others exposed their half-insect exoskeletons resembling heavy knight armor. Some burrowed rapidly into the soil, while others extended green tendrils like plant vines from beneath their robes.

Hundreds of demonized beings rapidly approached the camp!
Boom!

The drawbridge over the distant city suddenly collapsed!
"Fish fry are released back into the fishpond, and fat fish are caught in the fishing net."

Amidst maniacal laughter, the monarch, clad in crimson armor, emerged from the city buildings on the edge of the second ring. He wore a raven-shaped helmet, a skirt of armor resembling wings, and a dust-colored cloak. Perched on his hooked, beak-like shoulder armor was a massive demonic raven with a crest of feathers on its head.

"Caw caw!" the demonic crow cried out.

He carried two exquisitely crafted, jet-black blades of varying lengths in both hands as he crossed the suspension bridge, looking down at the adventurers' camp from his elevated position.

"You don't really think my caveman legion will be wiped out by a squad of Imperial Sword Guards with blood-stained steel swords, do you?" Valak grinned under his raven helmet, his long and short blades clashing together with a clang, sending sparks flying.

With a thunderous roar, the sound of orderly footsteps echoed from the gates of the Second Ring Road. Thousands of fully armored caveman knights, wielding rough heavy hammers and giant blades, strode out of the city gates with their heads held high.

"Lord of Kana! For the Lord of Kana!" they roared as they charged toward the adventurers' camp.

(End of this chapter)