Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 94: [Three Faces of the Blade 12] The Fate of the War Mage

Chapter 94: [Three Faces of the Blade 12] The Fate of the War Mage

Raven didn’t linger.

The moment Arvax’s core dimmed and the subjugation sealed, he swept the drops into his inventory with mechanical efficiency—no inspection, no sorting. A single glance at the raid log confirmed what he needed. Even though the dungeon boss had been subjugated, the quest wasn’t finished yet—and the Flaying Tiger guild could still be on his trail.

He was already turning to leave—until something caught his eye—deep in the corner, a shoulder pauldron. He smirked before picking it up. Yet here it was: another drop from NekoNekoNyan, the second time. Without hesitation, he slipped it into his inventory.

He turned.

There was still one more room—the dungeon’s quest, or whatever was left of it. And with the chaos he’d just created, it wouldn’t be long before any remaining Flaying Tiger guild members tried to force their way in.

Emberforge still stood behind him, steam venting from its shoulders, watching.

Raven gave it a simple nod.

"Stay here."

The titan didn’t reply with words—just rotated toward the arena entrance and placed one massive foot down, bracing its stance.

It would do the job.

Two reasons. One: Emberforge’s presence would act like a wall—any pursuers from Flaying Tiger would have to go through him. And two: the titan was too large to squeeze through the next corridor anyway.

Raven moved, light and fast, sliding through the narrow tunnel carved beyond the boss room.

Behind him, the hiss of cooling metal and settling stone echoed like the dungeon itself was finally exhaling.

But ahead—something else waited.

Something the Tribunal hadn’t judged yet.

A metal door greeted him at the corridor’s end—sealed, but humming faintly with low tribunal current. Not locked. Just... waiting.

He tapped the access rune. It hissed open with a groan of warped steel.

Beyond was a chamber, smaller than the boss arena, but unmistakably deliberate. A laboratory—or what remained of it. Broken terminals lined the walls, their holograms flickering in stuttered blues and reds. Glass tanks stood shattered, their contents long since burned away.

In the center of the room, beneath a partially collapsed conduit, stood a single spear, driven clean through a slumped body.

A middle-aged man, ragged robes still clinging to charred armor, impaled upright through the sternum. His head drooped. His boots were fused to the cracked floor.

War-Magus Kaldrith.

No dialogue prompt. No cinematic. No boss music. Just the body. Just the end.

The room was silent, but it wasn’t peaceful. A low whine came from one of the busted terminals, like a dying animal caught in a loop. The smell of ozone mixed with scorched blood. Kaldrith’s body didn’t look old—it looked preserved by failure. Like he had died holding the system together with nothing but his spine.

A system ping flickered across Raven’s HUD.

[Optional Quest: Finding the Fate of War-Magus Kaldrith (1/1)]

He turned his attention to the far wall, where a cluttered desk sat beneath half a collapsed terminal bracket. Among the soot and static shimmer, a small letter with shimmering blue light—sign of the quest item.

Raven picked it up and read it.

"High Advisor Maelthys,

If you are reading this, then my offer still holds.

The Tribunal Engines have proven adaptable—ruthless in autonomy, but precise in execution. Velkarin refuses to apply them with the clarity and scale required for true deterrence.

Cindraleth, however, has no such reluctance.

Enclosed are specifications for trial reinitialization protocols and suggestion schematics for border integration. Use them not as weapons—but as statements of control, ready to use.

Let your enemies believe judgment comes not from soldiers, but from inevitability.

– War Magus Kaldrith"

A new prompt chimed immediately.

Optional Quest:

[Deliver Kaldrith’s Document]

▸ Deliver to Marshal Rose – Velkarin Axis +500 Rep

▸ Deliver to High Advisor Maelthys – Cindraleth Union +500 Rep

Raven stared at it for a beat.

This was the real reward. The one the system wanted him to chase.

This was the dungeon’s real theme—beneath the combat trials and mechanical chaos.

The betrayal of War-Magus Kaldrith, once a master of Velkarin’s judgment system, now exposed as a defector through the quiet presence of a single letter. A high-ranking official turned traitor, offering machines of war to a rival empire.

It wasn’t just a twist of lore—it was the designed climax of the dungeon’s narrative.

And more than that, it was the fork. The scripted event intended to push players toward a faction: Velkarin Axis or Cindraleth Union. One document. Two choices. Reputation in either direction.

But he already had what he came for. NekoNekoNyan was wiped. The Flaying Tiger’s hold here was broken. The dungeon was his now.

Faction points meant nothing if you owned the board.

He’d seen too many systems dressed up as choices. A letter here, a faction there. Always pretending players mattered. But none of them had stood where he had—over a cooling dungeon, with blood on their chain and silence in their ears.

He closed the prompt.

Didn’t even select.

Just walked past it while ripping the document like it never mattered.

Before heading out, Raven took a long, quiet moment by the broken threshold.

He reached up, unclasped the mask from his face, and carefully pulled it off. The metal legs of the Visage of the Hollow Forge retracted with a hiss, folding into silence. It vanished into storage.

He opened his equipment menu and swapped to his standard summoner gear—robe, utility belt, default-class knife. Boring. Generic. The version of him the world expected.

Not the Phantom Sovereign.

There was still the possibility of a Flaying Tiger ambush outside the dungeon. He wasn’t going to hand them the satisfaction of identifying what had actually wiped their raid leader.

This was his masquerade. The one built for losing, if necessary. A shell worth sacrificing.

"Emberforge Titan, you may return" Raven flicked his finger and rumbling sound heared from the arena next door. The titan vanished with a hiss of vented steam—unsummoned.

He stepped through the corridor—light now pouring in from the far end.

Time to clear the quest.

The ashstorm outside had dulled to a sullen gray, and the beacon at the crater’s rim now pulsed a steady blue—no longer a warning, but a marker of containment.

Marshal Rose stood exactly where he had before. Arms behind her back. One eye sharp, the other still flickering faintly with blue tribunal data.

She didn’t smile when Raven approached. Didn’t even nod.

She just glanced at the holo-tablet hovering beside her, then back at him.

"You came out intact," she said. "They didn’t."

Raven said nothing.

"Three days. They went in with a full team. Came out as corrupted logs. You went in flagged as a redundancy."

Another glance at the tablet.

"Trial core reports a stabilized loop. Judgment ceased. That’s all Velkarin asked for."

She reached forward and tapped a key.

[System Notification: Quest Complete – Trial Reignited] 🎁

Rewards Received:

Tribunal-Engraved Warcache x1

Ember Seals x3

That was it. No commendation. No speech. Just another classified failure, buried in routine.

He pulling up his hood as the wind picked up again, ready to went out. Then—

"You."

His thoughts clicked fast. The tone. The posture. The residual aggression.

Flaying Tiger.

Probably what was left of NekoNekoNyan’s gang.

Marshal Rose stood just as before—unblinking, unmoved. The quest dialog has just finished. Anyone watching wouldn’t know if he was just starting... or finishing.

The illusion worked in his favor.

Just as the ash began to sting his cheeks, he heard boots behind him.

Two figures approached—cloaked, mid-level geared. Raven didn’t turn at first.

He didn’t need to scan their tags. Their posture gave it away—too rigid for casuals, too quiet for scouts. One had a bow, the other a PvP blade still smoking at the sheath. They weren’t here to explore. They were here to bury what happened.

He schooled his expression and turned around casually, keeping his tone light.

"Hey! Oh, sorry—I thought you were my guildmates." He gave them a sheepish grin. "Was waiting to run this place, but they flaked."

The two stopped just short of him.

"This dungeon’s off-limits," one of them said.

"Off-limits?" Raven tilted his head, blinking. "Wait, why?"

"None of your business."

Raven raised both hands in mock surrender. "I-I get it. I was just waiting, figured I’d start the quest early—"

"Piss off. Now."

He flinched. "Y-yes. Got it."

He turned, walking away stiffly, posture meek.

But the moment his face was out of sight, the nervous act dropped.

His shoulders straightened. The grin that followed was quiet and sharp.

They didn’t know.

They had just met the one who killed their leader.

And now they let him—the most suspicious person at the dungeon gate—walk away.

Raven’s grin widened as he stepped toward the portal node, ash swirling behind him.

Then came the ping.

[Direct Message – Theo]

"Raven. Now. Don’t ask. Just come."

Raven paused. Something in the tone was off. Theo, for all his casual dad-joke energy, didn’t usually sound clipped. Urgent.

He typed back one word: "Okay."

Then stepped into the portal.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢