I’m Telling You, I’m Not the Boss Monster!

I barely managed to escape, but now what? Where was I supposed to go?
Caves were perfect for avoiding humans and sunlight, but the problem was they’d just assume I was a dungeon boss again.
"Should I really try the Demon Realm?"
That thought was immediately dismissed. Crossing the continent wasn’t exactly a casual stroll.
There were roughly five hours until dawn. Time was limited, and I couldn’t think of a single safe destination.
"Let’s just get as far away from them as possible."
The most terrifying scenario right now was Charlotte tracking me down.
The thought that she might come looking for me made me desperate to put as much distance between us as I could.
Maybe I should head to a nearby village.
To find a decent hiding spot, I’d have to go far, and walking wouldn’t cut it. Maybe I could steal a horse. Luckily, I’d spent plenty of time learning horseback riding thanks to my father’s forced lessons.
At the time, I couldn’t understand how horseback riding was supposed to help me get a job, but now, stuck in a medieval fantasy, I had to admit it was useful.
"Oh, Father, you were right."
This must be the wisdom of middle age. Just how far ahead were you looking, Father?
Thinking about him suddenly made me miss my family.
But crying over it wouldn’t change anything, and wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to help.
I swallowed my emotions and kept walking.
"If this is a medieval village, there’s bound to be a stable, right?"
Sneak into the village, steal a horse, and ride away.
They say starting is half the battle. If I succeeded, I’d only have half the problem left to solve. I’d figure the rest out as I went.
It seemed the heavens hadn’t completely abandoned me yet.
After descending the mountain and walking a short distance, I spotted a village in the distance.
Typical of a medieval village, there wasn’t a single light visible at night.
If it weren’t for my Death Knight night vision, I might have walked right past it.
As I approached quietly, a wooden palisade surrounding the village came into view. At the entrance, two guards stood watch with torches.
"Snore… snore…"
Both of them were fast asleep, nodding off while on duty.
"Ah, this brings me back to my military days."
As a proud veteran of the South Korean Army, I resisted the urge to knock their heads together.
Their carelessness worked in my favor, allowing me to slip into the village unnoticed.
Inside, the streets were empty. Not a soul in sight.
The only sign of life was the noisy tavern, where the sound of rowdy patrons showed no sign of dying down. Unless someone stumbled outside to puke, they were likely to stay put for the night.
The only problem was that the stable was right next to the tavern.
This wasn’t the time to let nerves get the better of me. I couldn’t turn back now.
Quietly entering the stable, my eyes immediately landed on a black horse.
A black horse for a Death Knight? How could I resist?
"Ah!"
A startled gasp broke the silence.
I turned to see a young boy staring at me wide-eyed from the far end of the stable.
I hadn’t expected a stable hand to be here.
"A thief! Someone help! A horse thief!"
The kid’s shrill voice echoed through the night.
I hesitated, considering silencing him, but instead, I quickly stepped into the stirrup and mounted the black horse.
"Neigh!"
The horse bucked wildly, and I was thrown off immediately.
"Ah, right."
I’d completely forgotten: undead can’t ride living mounts.
Forget night vision—this stupid skeleton body was more of a curse than a blessing.
"A D-D-Death Knight! It’s a Death Knight! The rumored Death Knight is here! Everyone, wake up!"
That little brat!
Doors flew open, and people rushed out, their footsteps echoing loudly.
I didn’t look back—I just ran.
"A Death Knight? Where?"
Hero?
Instinctively, I glanced back and froze.
A man was sprinting toward me at an alarming speed. But my attention was drawn to the glowing number above his head.
What the hell?
Looking closer, his appearance struck me as familiar.
A massive build, a shaved head, and a thick beard that looked like an upside-down mop. Around his neck hung a string of oversized wooden prayer beads, each bead as big as a fist. His Eastern-style outfit and absurd level left no doubt.
It was
, one of the Empire’s Four Heroes.
"Why the hell is he here?"
Heroes aren’t government officials—they don’t go on assignments! What was he doing in a mountain village instead of meditating or something? What kind of riches or fame was he chasing, bursting out of a tavern in the middle of the night?
"Be careful, Hero!"
"Fear not, brothers! I shall vanquish this undead fiend!"
There was no time to process my misfortune. All I could do was run for my life.
I might be undead, but I was sprinting as if my life depended on it—because it did.
"Oh, why is my life like this?"
First, I get stuck in the body of a Death Knight and mistaken for a dungeon boss.
Then I run into a psychotic witch who insists I’m the ruler of the
.
Now, barely having escaped that mess, I’m being chased by one of the Empire’s Four Heroes.
The world really is out to get me.
Valmonk was a martial artist, immune to enhancement skills.
What kind of hero doesn’t use a sword? Of all the heroes, the only martial artist had to be the one chasing me. Was this just bad luck?
"Stop right there, undead!"
The sound of galloping hooves grew louder behind me.
Valmonk had mounted a horse and was closing the distance fast.
With no other choice, I swung my massive black-steel greatsword in a wide arc, aiming for the horse.
"Neigh!"
The horse let out a pained cry and collapsed. But instead of falling, Valmonk leapt off with superhuman reflexes, landing gracefully.
"What a monster."
A Death Knight, a monster? Don’t make me laugh. He’s the real monster here.
With no other choice, I turned and ran toward the dungeon.
Valmonk wasn’t just any opponent—he was one of the Empire’s greatest assets.
Charlotte and the vampires might be powerless against him, but the dungeon was my only chance.
Sure, I knew there was a good chance everyone in the dungeon would get dragged into this mess, but I had no other options.
"Sorry, but I need to survive."
I was human once, and humans are selfish creatures. My life came first. If there was even a 1% chance of survival, I had to take it.
"Stop running! Let me test my fists against your skull!"
I was already dead—I wasn’t about to die again.
Charlotte, vampires, anyone—please, someone save me.
***
The sound of polished heels echoed through the cavern as Charlotte walked, her sharp eyes darting around the space. She tilted her head slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing her face.
"Is this really supposed to be a dungeon?"
It was too narrow, too short, and too small.
Newly formed dungeons were often unimpressive, but this was the
.
"Maybe I was wrong after all," she murmured.
The origins of the
predated even the Empire’s history by centuries.
For a thousand years, the
had remained unchanged. The idea of a "new"
was unprecedented.
But perhaps this was the beginning of the first one.
Its humble and cramped appearance seemed fitting for something newly formed.
Charlotte wondered if she was the first to uncover this anomaly.
Everywhere she looked, the dungeon seemed to scream for repairs.
In her eyes, the entire structure needed to be overhauled from the ground up.
"Actually, this might work out," she thought.
The dungeon’s dilapidated state was an opportunity to demonstrate her skills as a lieutenant.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant? Can I ask you something?"
Isabella, standing nearby, hesitated nervously.
Charlotte gave a small nod, signaling her to continue.
"I’ve been curious… how are the ranks of the 72 Dungeons decided?"
"You must be from the northern continent," Charlotte replied, her tone dry.
The northern continent was under human control, while the southern continent was home to the Demon Realm.
Monsters born in the north often lacked basic knowledge about the non-human world.
With a sigh, Charlotte explained, "The ranks of the 72 Dungeons aren’t decided by anyone—they’re imprinted."
"Imprinted?"
"When a dungeon boss is born, a number representing its rank is automatically imprinted in their mind. That number reflects the dungeon’s position within the hierarchy."
The history of the 72 Dungeons spanned over a thousand years, and what were once mysteries had long since become common knowledge.
"If the number is only in the boss’s head, doesn’t that mean the rank is based solely on the boss’s strength?" Isabella asked.
"No. It’s determined by the collective power of the entire dungeon."
Dungeon ranks were also fluid.
A dungeon stuck in stagnation could be overtaken by a lower-ranked dungeon that actively bolstered its forces.
Bosses instinctively sensed these shifts as though it were a primal urge.
This system of natural ranking was why dungeons rarely clashed with one another.
It was also the reason the
had remained at the top for a thousand years—until humanity brought it down.
"I have a question for you as well, Isabella. Were there any existing monsters in this dungeon when you arrived?"
"No, I don’t think so."
In newly formed dungeons, the dungeon core was typically created first, followed by the boss and then the monsters.
However, some dungeons formed with only a core and a boss. These were called
.
"Even so, for this to be ranked seventh is astounding. A single-entity dungeon becoming the
is almost unbelievable."
Unlike other
dungeons, which housed thousands of monsters alongside their boss, this one stood alone.
Charlotte couldn’t help but shiver. The feat was so extraordinary that her body trembled with awe and excitement.
"This won’t do. I must present my full capabilities to them," she resolved.
If the
was to live up to its name, it needed a complete transformation.
Charlotte reached into her cloak and pulled out a piece of parchment made from black goat leather—a merchant summon ticket, only issued to those with strong ties to the Dungeon Merchant Guild.
These tickets weren’t something just anyone could acquire.
Charlotte still had a few left from her time as part of a dungeon, and the Dungeon Merchant Guild was an indispensable resource for dungeon development.
As the ticket ripped, a pitch-black portal shimmered into existence.
From within, a red demon stepped out, bowing sharply as its feet touched the ground.
It was a demon merchant Charlotte had contracted with during her previous time in a dungeon.
"It’s been a while, Lady Charlotte. Oh? Have you joined a new dungeon? Then you’ll be needing our guild’s services."
"Do your best to assist me," Charlotte replied curtly.
The demon’s brow twitched at her tone.
She could be as arrogant as ever, but her competence often made it tolerable.
"Your tone… leaves something to be desired."
"This is a newly formed
. I am its lieutenant."
"Excuse me?"
The demon blinked in confusion, repeating her words as if he’d misheard.
When the realization hit, his eyes and mouth widened unnaturally.
"The real
? Finally! I’d been wondering when it would reappear. The rebirth of the seventh-ranked Demon King…!"
In the Demon Realm, the bosses of the 72 Dungeons were often referred to as Demon Kings.
"I was devastated to hear that the previous Demon King fell to the heroes. If it were up to me, I’d have hunted those heroes down myself. Ah, forgive my rambling. Still, to think you’re the lieutenant of the
… Lady Charlotte, your talents truly know no bounds."
"Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Let’s start with dungeon expansion. Wait a moment…"
Charlotte trailed off, her gaze falling on the vampires nearby.
Isabella, meeting her eyes, grinned brightly and pointed to herself.
With a swift turn of her head, Charlotte ignored her.
"I’ve changed my mind. Let’s focus on recruiting monsters first."
Isabella’s expression instantly fell.
A newly formed dungeon’s greatest weakness was its lack of defense.
It couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility of a subjugation team attacking. Planning for contingencies was always wise.
"Provide me with an inventory of high-tier monsters. Intelligent ones, but without egos."
"Ah, easily manageable high-tier monsters? I anticipated this and prepared a list," the demon replied, handing her a scroll.
Charlotte scanned the list, her fingers tracing calculations in the air as she estimated the dungeon’s vertical dimensions.
"The horizontal space can be expanded with my magic. That’ll ensure there’s no overcrowding, and the monsters can settle in comfortably."
As it stood, the dungeon was too small to house large monsters.
Still, with a bit of effort, it could be made livable.
"Prepare two well-trained minotaurs and one basilisk."
The demon hesitated at her request.
Both minotaurs and basilisks were top-tier monsters, each costing a fortune—ten million cell per unit. Three of them?
"You want them ready right now?"
"Yes, the Demon Realm’s portal system can deliver them within five minutes, can’t it?"
"That’ll incur a 10% rush fee. Are you sure you have the funds?"
"As the
, we qualify for a loan of up to one hundred million cell."
The meaning was clear:
I don’t have the money, but you’ll give me credit, and I’ll use it.
The demon weighed her words carefully.
"Faking the
to secure a loan… no way."
Charlotte wasn’t reckless or careless—quite the opposite.
And she knew the Dungeon Merchant Guild would annihilate any dungeon that dared impersonate the
.
"If this really is the
, it’s an opportunity we can’t afford to miss," the demon thought.
In the Merchant Guild’s eyes, no amount of gold could match the value of a connection to the
.
Even ten smaller dungeons combined couldn’t rival it.
"Where is your lord, the dungeon boss?"
"Out on business."
"Truly unpredictable, as expected of the
. Have you consulted with them?"
"I take full responsibility. If I satisfy them, that’s all that matters."
The demon’s lips curled into a smile.
If things went well, this deal would leave a significant mark on his career.
"I’ll deliver them immediately."
He opened a portal with glee.
Within five minutes, the silhouettes of three massive creatures emerged.
"This should be enough to deter even a hero," Charlotte said, nodding in satisfaction.