I stepped into the next room—and immediately froze.
[You have entered the second stage of the Nameless Sovereign's Rest: Undead Royal Guard.]
[Warning: The difficulty level is significantly higher than the player's current capabilities.]
[Do you wish to proceed? Y/N]
Before I could even respond—
They were already here.
A swarm of undead warriors surged out of the shadows, surrounding me in a matter of seconds.
But these weren't like the brittle skeletons I'd seen above ground.
These ones had weapons—real ones. Swords, staves, crossbows, even maces. They moved with eerie coordination, armor clinking with every step, as if they still remembered the discipline of the army they once served.
One of them raised its crossbow and fired.
WOOSH—!
I ducked behind the nearest pillar just in time. The bolt thudded into the ground where I'd been standing a heartbeat ago, embedding itself into the stone.
Too close.
There was no way I could take them all head-on. Not with my current stats. I'd be skewered before I even reached the pedestal.
But then again… who said I had to fight fair?
I knew this moment was coming.
I'd planned for it.
All thanks to an obscure VTube video I found late one night—the kind with bad thumbnails and worse editing, but pure gold if you knew what to look for.
"The guy who figured this out was a genius," I muttered, reaching into my coat pocket.
I pulled out a small leather pouch.
Inside?
[Holy Water].
Expensive stuff. Normally, it would've drained half my savings—but the Church gave me a generous discount, thanks to my noble status.
Perks of bloodlines and titles, I guess.
I uncorked the pouch and quickly chugged one dose. It burned slightly going down, leaving a faint warmth in my chest.
A temporary buff—[Divine Resistance] and [Sanctified Aura]. It wouldn't last long, but it didn't need to.
With the second vial in hand, I hurled it onto the ground right in front of the nearest group of undead.
CRASH!
The flask shattered on impact, holy liquid splashing across the stone.
The reaction was immediate.
The skeletons nearest to the blast recoiled, screeching as the divine energy sizzled through their bones. Smoke rose from the cracks in their armor. A few dropped their weapons, shaking violently as their bones crumbled to ash.
One down. Dozens to go.
But now the room had shifted.
The undead were still advancing, but slower—hesitant. Some even stepped back, eye sockets flickering with dim confusion.
"Good. That's right. Be scared."
I drew my dagger, the silver edge catching the faint torchlight.
I didn't have to win this by brute force.
I just had to move.
I dashed forward, and to my surprise—the undead parted.
They staggered back, their bones creaking, as if some primal instinct deep in their cursed souls recognized the threat I now carried.
It wasn't just me anymore.
The holy aura pulsing off my body shimmered faintly, casting a silvery light that pushed them away. The ground behind me still hissed where the holy water had splashed, the remnants forming a temporary barrier the undead refused to cross.
The fear in their hollow sockets was almost… human.
I didn't waste time.
Every second counted.
I sprinted toward the far end of the chamber, weaving between shattered pillars and broken stone tiles.
The path wasn't entirely clear. A few of the undead still staggered forward, swinging their rusted weapons with trembling arms. But the holy aura around me was too strong.
Their blades stopped inches from my skin—like an invisible wall blocked them—before they shrieked in agony, bones smoking and cracking as they stumbled back.
And then… silence.
The last of them collapsed in a heap of ash and scorched armor.
Second stage: cleared.
Right on cue, the holy aura around me faded, like a candle being snuffed out. The warmth in my chest disappeared with it.
That was fine. I didn't need it anymore.
[…Updating Information…]
[Battle map, corridors, and antechamber to the throne room cleared.]
[Proceed to the boss room.]
A low rumble echoed through the chamber as a passage opened ahead.
'So clearing the undead counted as completing the honor route. That means I skip the gauntlet and go straight to the boss.'
There was a hidden piece here—"honoring the tomb of the true sovereign." Most players missed it and ended up grinding their way through multiple painful sub-rooms. But I'd done my homework.
I stepped through the newly opened corridor. Massive stone walls lined the path, engraved with runes I couldn't read and statues that seemed to watch me as I passed.
Eventually, I reached it.
The boss room.
A massive golden door stood at the end of the hall, easily twice my height, gleaming even in the dim torchlight. Embedded in it were giant rubies, sapphires, and what I could only assume were emeralds the size of a fist.
Even from a distance, I whistled.
"…How much would just one of those fetch on the market?"
In the game, this door was just part of the scenery—untouchable. But now, seeing it up close in real life, I couldn't help but wonder. Just one gem, maybe even a sliver of that gold… and I could live comfortably for the rest of my life.
I was so focused on mentally calculating its black-market value, I didn't notice the footsteps behind me.
Tap. Tap.
A hand landed on my shoulder.
"Looks like I've got a partner in crime?"
"WOAH—!"
I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning around and reaching for my weapon.
Standing there, casually brushing dust off his shoulder, was a middle-aged man I didn't recognize. Salt-and-pepper hair, worn-out armor, and a relaxed grin that didn't match the tension in the room.
He looked more like a wandering drunk than a dungeon crawler.
"Don't sneak up on people in a place like this!" I snapped, heart still racing.
He chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help it. You were gawking at the door like you were about to marry it."
"…Who are you?"
He gave me a lazy salute. "Name's Doran. Explorer. Treasure enthusiast. Occasional undead-smasher. Been trailing this dungeon for days."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't lie to me. You are Phantom theif, aren't you?"
At the same time, he also narrowed his eyes.
"So, you do know me huh."