Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 52: [Thrones in Ruin 1] - How to Kill a Corporate Plan

The faint shimmer of sunlight poured through the thick canopy as Raven emerged from the Vault of the Rootbound. The dungeon’s twisted roots and spectral shadows gave way to the open calm of a lush meadow, painted in late-afternoon gold.

An hour had passed, but it felt like no time at all. The world outside hadn’t waited.

He took a breath.

The air was fresh. Too fresh.

The scent of grass and wildflowers filled his lungs—but it was wrong. Too clean. Too innocent. His body, tuned to the Vault’s endless danger, didn’t trust it.

Birdsong trilled somewhere in the distance, high and carefree. Insects buzzed lazily between golden shafts of light that pierced the open meadow. A soft breeze stirred the tall grass, rippling like the surface of a still pond.

Before he could even start moving, a figure waved from a few meters away. A player—female, dressed in a flowing dark robe with a wilted staff slung over her back. Necromancer type.

"Hallo! Kom je net uit de kerker?"

Raven blinked. He stammered, caught off guard.

Oh yeah, he thought. I’m playing during European peak time.

"Uh... sorry, I don’t speak French."

The player burst into a laugh, shaking her head.

"Sorry! I thought you were Dutch! You just come out from the dungeon?"

Raven gave a faint nod. "Yeah. Rootbound."

She stepped a bit closer, smiling. Her accent was soft, but her English was clear.

"How was it? Is it hard?"

"Still manageable," Raven said. "You alone?"

"Waiting for my party," she replied, glancing toward the dirt trail at the meadow’s edge.

"You read the new patch yet? Official forum posted it just few moment ago."

"Not yet," Raven said, casual. "Something big?"

The necromancer groaned.

"Terrible. I swear, they could broke half my skill lines."

Raven raised a brow, lips curving slightly. "That bad, huh? Wow. I should check it out."

"Yeah, do. It’s a mess."

A shout echoed from the distance. She turned and spotted her party waving her over.

"Oh, there’s my squad. I see you later! Ik hoop dat we ooit nog eens in het Frans kunnen kletsen," she added with a playful wink.

"That means, ’I hope we can chat in French again.’ You know—in case you magically learn Dutch by next time." Her laugh sounds like a chime as she waved her hands to Raven as she ran to meet her friends.

Raven laughed, and waved back. "See ya, have fun."

She jogged off, leaving behind a trail of amused chaos.

Raven lingered a moment longer, watching the dark-robed necromancer vanish into the meadow’s sunlit path.

There was something refreshing about PvE players.

No suspicion. No feints hidden behind smiles. No waiting for the right moment to stab you when your back turned. Just clean, open curiosity about the next destination, the next quests, the next shiny piece of loot.

It wasn’t the world Raven lived in anymore—but for a few seconds, standing under the clear sky, it almost felt real again.

He exhaled softly through his nose, an amused breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

A faint, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Human. Still, somehow.

It slipped away as quickly as it came.

The war wasn’t over.

But it was a nice reminder that not every player out here carried a dagger under their tongue.

Raven opened his system interface and flicked into the forum tab.

Two posts dominated the homepage.

Patch v1.3 – Behavior Stabilization Protocol

To improve AI reliability, this patch addresses erratic boss and summon behavior. Summoner-type classes will undergo sync calibration for improved consistency. Dungeon bosses will be restored to default script patterns to maintain mechanic integrity.

He read the post twice.

This wasn’t about nerfing players. It was about containment.

Already, the forum threads beneath the announcement were a wildfire.

Complaint after complaint filled the screen—players raging over the vague wording, the hidden nerfs, the impact on summons and tamed creatures.

Angry memes calling it "Patch 1.3 – Play Dead Edition."

But the company’s moderators moved fast.

Every thread was quietly redirected to the official Throne War discussion thread pinned at the top—glossy banners of The Three Faction’s burning war banner and White Mansion Energy Drink logos blaring like a fire alarm.

Raven chuckled under his breath.

Classic PR misdirection. A scandal happening? Drown it under a bigger, shinier event. Promise rewards, millions of gold. Redirect the anger into bloodlust.

He leaned back slightly.

They weren’t fixing the mess.

They were weaponizing it.

The Emberstone report. The way the boss went off-script. Crimson Blades had been the first to fall, loud and reckless—typical PvP fodder. And the other one... what was it? Ebon-something? Oh yeah—Ebonreach. Raven scratched his head.

Hard to remember all the casuals I’ve wiped.

But they were the ones who pulled out. The ones who had something to lose. The complaint must’ve come from them.

Stormveil... that name didn’t appear in the patch, but Raven had seen it enough—always hovering around the banners sponsored by White Mansion Energy Drink.

Raid showcases.

Seasonal events.

Even the last PvE tournament had Stormveil’s emblem tucked neatly beside White Mansion’s logo.

Ebonreach, on the other hand, had matched gear. Similar banners. Trimmed-down versions of Stormveil’s crest.

Child guild. Stormveil’s cleanup crew. And Lymira was leading them.

Raven narrowed his eyes. He remembered Elara—his cheerful new neighbor. QA dev. Assigned to investigate Emberstone.

This was her patch.

It wasn’t personal. He was just another casualty in the clean-up.

Below that, the second post:

Event Announcement: The Throne War – Hollowshade Defense!

This month’s world PvE mega event Throne Wars is brought to you by White Mansion Energy Drink. Join thousands of players in defending the ancient city of Hollowshade against invading faction forces. Exclusive one-week event. Global participation. Million-gold reward pool.

This month, the defenders are the Cindraleth Union, standing against the invading armies of the Meridian Fold.

Raven narrowed his eyes.

So they patched the monsters... and now they’re throwing players into their most prestigious regular event.

He closed the forum. Then turned toward the nearby woods.

He needed to test it himself.

He walked until he found a cluster of low-level rabbit-like monsters grazing between the trees. Nothing dangerous. Just enough to test a summon.

He looked around to ensure nobody was watching.

With a flick of his hand, the summoning circle spread across the forest floor—black mist curling, forming limbs, fangs, and finally—Duskrunner Alpha.

The great wolf materialized with a low growl, his form flickering like a corrupted gif. His glowing eyes scanned the treeline.

Raven raised his hand and pointed to the rabbit mobs.

"Go."

Duskrunner didn’t move.

Instead, his claws tapped once. Then twice. Then... nothing. He turned his head—not to the mobs, but toward a spot behind Raven.

Toward where a boss would normally begin its scripted phase.

He’s waiting for a phase trigger.

After two seconds, Duskrunner surged forward, biting into one of the mobs. The creature died instantly—but Duskrunner didn’t continue. Instead, he returned to his original summon point and stood still.

A static-laced growl buzzed from his throat. Then something stranger:

"...Comman—...fractured. Target... missing. Resetting—phase..."

The voice was distorted, guttural—a broken echo of the voice Raven knew.

Raven didn’t respond. He just watched.

Duskrunner twitched, blinked, then fell silent again.

It tried to speak.

Even that’s affected.

A red text popped on Raven’s HUD:

[AI Sync Error: Behavior Normalization Active]

He close the pop up window.

Another red text popped on Raven’s HUD:

[AI Sync Error: Behavior Normalization Active]

For a moment, Raven just stared.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It was code. Bits. Scripts. Loops.

But hearing it—the struggle in Duskrunner’s distorted voice, the way the wolf twitched like a marionette half-cut from its strings—something knotted deep in Raven’s chest.

This wasn’t just a summon. It wasn’t just a monster.

It was a bond.

Made through blood, through battles fought side by side across dungeons the world had already forgotten.

And now... it was breaking.

Not because of failure. Not because of defeat.

But because someone, somewhere, had decided numbers on sponsorship revenue view mattered more than the life simulated in the thing he fought beside.

Raven’s fists curled slowly at his sides.

A tremor ran down his arms—not anger, not yet.

Just the heavy, bone-deep weight of betrayal.

He dismissed Duskrunner quietly, the black mist folding the broken beast away like closing the cover of a book.

And the silence that followed tasted bitter on his tongue.

Raven took a deep breath to calm his mind. He had finished the dungeon at exactly the right time. If only he finsihed the dungeon moment earlier, he will be toasted.

The air feels like fell silent again as his calculative mind drown in deep thoughts.

He could log off. Stir the forums. Spread the right complaints at the right time and light the powder keg from the shadows. Let the community rage, let the blame spiral.

But then what?

It wouldn’t be enough. Not yet.

Raven didn’t want a counter-protest. Single post, or spam post could only fall into deaf ears. He wanted more.

Chaos.

Let the system collapse from within. Let the players feel the betrayal. The company didn’t fix the game—they sacrificed the core users to appease a sponsor.

This wasn’t just a system error. It wasn’t a balance patch gone wrong.

He wasn’t facing a monster, a guild, or a rival player this time. He would be up against a corporation—one with endless money, with cameras, sponsors, and a monthly quota of spectacle. A machine that could eat him alive if he made the wrong move.

They hadn’t been satisfied with the wipe at Emberstone. Not when it had been streamed live. Not when it was supposed to showcase their golden child guild.

No, they wanted a narrative. A win. A redemption arc—to save face after their golden guild got humiliated on-stream. Something they could spin back into glory for the sponsors. A project success story, no matter the cost.

And the moment Raven saw the banners, saw the patch, saw the event... he knew exactly who was pulling strings behind the screen.

I can’t hit them directly. Not yet. But I can ruin the script.

Then an idea struck him.

Stir the chaos. Let the public do the work for him.

Be one of the victims who fails over and over again. A broken summoner who can’t do anything from the patch. Let the class become a burden to melee classes and ranged classes.

Then all he had to do was pour gasoline into the flicker of fire of failed summoners, necromancers, and tamers.

He had to play it smart. Let them build their stage.

And then pull the rug out from underneath it.

And watch the angry mobs pulls out their fork and torches to burn the witch.

He opened the event menu. Scrolled to the registration line for Throne War: Hollowshade Defense.

For a long moment, Raven just stared at the glowing button.

So simple.

One click. One more name in the sea of thousands.

An army meant to entertain. A script meant to funnel rage into cheers.

A stage crafted by sponsors and stitched together by bleeding code.

He flexed his fingers once, feeling the phantom tremor still lingering from the Duskrunner glitch.

Perfect stage, perfect timing.

Let the puppet masters celebrate now.

Let them think they’d won.

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips—more feral than amused.

"Let’s see how well you dance when the floor gives out."

Then he clicked.

"Join."

Not as the Dungeon Phantom. Not with boss-tier monsters or tricks.

Just Raven the summoner.

One more player in the system they broke.

One more player who will die over and over again because of the company betrayal to the player.

And that is how you kill a corporate plan.

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