I am the Demon King of the Dungeon!

"But..." Dracula hesitated, a rare occurrence, "This doesn't make sense in the dungeon's operating logic. Adventurers should be resurrected in the temple after death and start the raid again from the first floor. If they can resurrect within the floor, they will..."

"Adventurers will take on challenges repeatedly," Arthas continued. "They'll die once, get up, die again, get up again, until they succeed."

"That's exactly right." Dracula put down his quill, clasped his hands together, and said with an expression that was almost serious. "My Lord, please allow me to speak frankly. The fact that adventurers can resurrect infinitely within the floors means that they can experiment with mistakes at zero cost."

No, it won't.

"Fear value income will drop significantly."

"Short-term meeting."

"What about in the long term?"

Arthas rose from his throne and walked to the crystal ball. The surface of the ball reflected the current state of the fifteenth level: a straight prison corridor with neat rows of cells on either side, and several skeleton soldiers patrolling aimlessly in the passageway.

The Death Knight stood motionless before the iron gate at the end of the corridor, like a statue.

boring.

so boring.

"Dracula, do you know what adventurers fear?"

"A powerful monster."

"No," Arthas shook his head. "What adventurers fear most is boredom. They can team up to challenge powerful monsters, study strategies, and upgrade their equipment. But a boring dungeon, they'll never go back for the first time. Why does Dark Hemkas have such a good reputation? It's not because the monsters are strong, but because every floor is fresh and 'fun' enough."

He tapped the crystal ball with his finger, and the scene inside switched to the third level: on a roller coaster track, a group of adventurers were screaming as they plunged down, splashing large amounts of orange sparks in the lava pool.

"Are the monsters on the third floor strong? A small Balrog plus a bunch of fire slimes, the highest level of which is only a little over seventy, but its fear value income ranks third in the entire dungeon, because adventurers are willing to go there repeatedly, not to clear the dungeon, but just to have fun..."

Dracula listened quietly; he was already used to his Demon Lord's sudden whims.

"Furthermore, let the adventurers get used to it first. I will rearrange the fifteenth floor every month." Arthas turned to look at Dracula. "Fear points are something that can accumulate over time."

Dracula jotted something down on the paper: "So the purpose of save points is not to reduce difficulty, but to reduce the cost of repetition, so that adventurers can spend all their time and energy on 'challenges' instead of 'running around the map'."

"right."

"Understood, sir." Dracula's pen began to move again, his speech much faster than before. "Then the BOSS mechanics also need to be adjusted accordingly. The Death Knight's current skill rotation is too simple—"

Cancel the loop.

Dracula looked up.

"Cancel the fixed cycle and teach the Death Knight to read commands." Arthas used another Blue Star word, explaining without changing his expression, "Instead of releasing skills in a fixed order, let them play freely and react to the adventurer's actions. If the adventurer raises their shield, use a defense-breaking skill; if the adventurer retreats to drink a potion, use a ranged Death Coil to interrupt; if the adventurer tries to flank, unleash an area-of-effect Shadow Strike."

Dracula's pen paused for a very brief moment before resuming its work at an even faster pace. He stopped asking questions, for he had already grasped the core concept of the Demon King's innovation: not to create a stronger wooden stake, but to train a "smarter" death knight.

"What's the monster composition?"

"Don't focus on quantity, focus on combination." Arthas walked back to his throne and sat down. "Divide the fifteenth floor into three areas: the outer area, the prison area, and the core area. The outer area will mainly consist of skeleton soldiers and skeleton archers, serving to familiarize adventurers with the terrain and basic combat rhythm. The prison area will include elite monster guards and a warden. The core area will consist of a combination of Death Knights' personal guards, skeleton knights, and dark knights."

"A collaboration?"

"When the Skeleton Knight is alive, the Death Knight's Shadow Slash range increases; when the Dark Knight is alive, Death Coil splits into three. Adventurers can choose to clear the mobs first and then fight the BOSS, or they can withstand the pressure and force their way to the BOSS. Let them choose between these two approaches."

Dracula finished writing the last entry and closed the file.

"My Lord Demon King, I have another question."

"ask."

"The implementation cost of this innovation plan. Reconstructing the terrain will require earth-type mages and construction monsters, with an estimated construction period of three to five days. Adjusting the monster configuration will require retraining death knights and newly added elite monsters, also estimated to take three to five days. Drawing the save point magic circles will require high-level magic scrolls and magic crystals; the material cost is approximately..."

"Eight thousand magic crystals."

Arthas tapped his fingers on the armrest.

Eight thousand magic crystals is no small amount.

Dark Hemkas' net profit last month was 12,000 magic crystals, and 8,000 is equivalent to half a month's profit.

"From my private vault."

Dracula's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Your subordinate obeys."

"Go ahead and get busy."

As soon as he finished speaking, Arthas vanished from the throne.

……

Dark Hemkas, the fifteenth floor.

Arthas stood at the end of the corridor, facing the rusty prison gate. The chains on the gate were as thick as an adult's arm, the lock was rusted shut, and the keyhole was filled with dark red rust.

In the cells on both sides, the skeleton soldiers were squatting on the ground, bored. Some were counting their ribs, some were tapping the walls with their finger bones to keep time, and two were playing a toss and catch game with their skulls.

Upon seeing Arthas, all the skeletons froze simultaneously.

Arthas missed catching the skull in the toss game. The skull rolled to Arthas's feet, its jaw opening and closing twice due to inertia, making an awkward "click-click" sound.

Arthas glanced down at it.

"Slacking off?"

"Waaah."

The skull let out a guilty whimper.

Alsace stepped over it and pushed open the iron gate.

The BOSS room behind the door was just like the one he had seen in the crystal ball: a straight corridor with empty cells on both sides, rough stone slabs on the floor, and several torches that were about to burn out stuck in the wall.

At the end of the corridor, the Death Knight stood before an even larger iron gate, his massive body motionless, like a dust-covered statue.

It really does look like a statue.

The body, over two meters tall, was encased in jet-black full-body armor, its surface covered with deep and shallow scratches, some sword marks, some axe marks, the deepest of which almost pierced through the breastplate. A faint green light shone through the eye slits of the helmet, but the light was dim, like a candle flame about to go out.

Alsace walked up to it.

A faint green light flickered in the Death Knight's eyes, and then it knelt down on one knee, the joints of its armor creaking.

"My king, it has been a long time."

Arthas hadn't been to the fifteenth floor many times, and his impression of this high-level monster was limited to Dracula's quarterly report showing a 12% success rate...

Standing before it now, Arthas suddenly felt that the word "mediocre" should not be borne by the Death Knight.

It has stood here for countless years, enduring every battle without ever retreating or surrendering.

"stand up."

The Death Knight stood up, accompanied by another screeching sound. Its movements were slow, not out of solemnity, but because its joints were truly rusted.

Arthas reached out and pressed his fingertips against the deepest sword wound on the Death Knight's breastplate. Where the light touched, the sword wound began to heal, the cracked metal repairing itself, leaving only a shallow scar, like an old wound on the skin.

The Death Knight's body, which had not been nourished by magic for too long, was suddenly exposed to a surge of magical power. It was like a frozen person suddenly touching hot water; every nerve was tingling.

"How does it feel?"

Arthas withdrew his finger.

The Death Knight clenched his fist, and the grinding sound of the armor joints became much smoother. He clenched it again, as if to confirm that this was not an illusion.

"Your Majesty, what have you done to your subordinates?"

"Magic enhancement," Arthas said. "From today onwards, you will be able to sense the direction of magic flow within adventurers, which you can use to judge and counteract."

"You mean..." the Death Knight spoke slowly, like a rusted gear starting to turn again, "that my subordinates no longer need to use skills in a fixed order?"

"Need not."

"Can I decide for myself when to draw my sword?"

"Can."

"Your Majesty, I have stood here for many years and never thought I would be able to learn something new."

"From today onwards, you will learn a great deal, including new combat methods. I will assign you your personal guard, and you must learn to coordinate with them. The entire fifteenth floor will be rebuilt, and you will be the floor where they die the most."

The Death Knight knelt down on one knee.

"Your subordinate is willing."

"Okay." Arthas turned and walked toward the door, but stopped after a few steps.

"Oh, right, the Death Knight."

"Your subordinate is here."

"Would you like to have your armor rusted while you're at it?"

The Death Knight looked down at his scarred, jet-black armor and fell silent for a moment.

"No need. The scars are proof that I have fought. If you remove them, I will have nothing left."