The Villainess’s Reputation [Kingdom Building]

271. Door Part 1



“The Goddess didn't forget to mention magic,” Junior Priest Finn whispered, his eyes wide with epiphany. “She gave Her Highness the enlightenment of untainted knowledge. She gave us the laws of the universe as they were meant to be, as they existed before the Absolute Being warped them! It was a gift... a blueprint to help us identify the corruption so we could fight back!”

The air in the tent seemed to vibrate with the sudden clarity of their purpose.

“Now that everyone is on the same page,” Ryan said, a sharp, determined smirk crossing his face as he reached for the violet-tinted glass frames, “let me explain exactly how we are going to use this 'untainted' knowledge.”

Inside Dungeon, Malion Town, Malion Dukedom, Western Coastline of Ancorna Empire

Princess Serena’s breath came in ragged, crystalline puffs. Every step was a battle against a world that seemed determined to freeze her heart in place. The blizzard was a screaming wall of white, a chaotic vortex of ice shards that scoured her skin and numbed her senses. Her royal mage’s uniform, woven with precision meant for high-altitude and maritime combat, was struggling to maintain its spells. The mana flowers embedded in her cuffs were flickering, their light dimming as the dungeon’s oppressive atmosphere siphoned her strength.

“I... I am a Princess of Ancorna,” she hissed through chattering teeth, her voice barely a whisper against the gale. “I will not... be buried in a pile of snow.”

She had been walking for what felt like hours, though time in the dungeon was a slippery thing. Her mind kept drifting back to the harbor, to the Conley General’s body expanding like a grotesque balloon, the sickly scent of the black rose, and the violent tear in reality that had swallowed her whole.

Suddenly, the wind died down. Not into a peaceful calm, but into a heavy, suffocating stillness.

Princess Serena stumbled forward, her boots sinking deep into a drift that didn't feel like snow, but like pulverized bone meal. As she looked up, the haze of the blizzard cleared to reveal a massive, jagged cliff of black ice. At the base of the cliff sat a structure that defied every law of nature she had ever studied at the Imperial Magic Tower.

It was a door.

But it was not made of stone or iron. This was an abomination of the highest order. Thousands of human limbs, pale, blue-tinged, and frozen in eternal grips of agony were woven together to form the frame. Fingers were locked in knots; arms were braided like hemp rope. The stench of old blood was preserved by the biting cold, a metallic tang that made her eyes water.

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And in the center of this wall of flesh, blooming with a vibrant, sickening life, were the Broadleaf Arrowhead flowers.

Their pale green leaves looked almost translucent against the black ice, and their blossoms emitted a rhythmic, pulsing light. It looked like a heartbeat. Serena’s hand went to her staff, mana flaring instinctively.

“A ritual of some sorts,” she whispered, her eyes wide. She remembered a forbidden text she had glimpsed once in the Emperor’s private library. The Broadleaf Arrowhead is used for high level spells from the time of creation.

The door didn't just block the path to the second floor; it felt like it was breathing, drawing the heat from the very air to fuel whatever lay beneath.

Inside Dungeon, Central Solious Cathedral, Solious Faith Headquarters, Outskirts of the Imperial Capital

Eugene felt as though his very soul was being parched.

He woke with the taste of ash and dry sand in his mouth. The transition from the cool, incense-heavy air of the Solious Cathedral to this blistering hellscape had been instantaneous and violent. Beside him, Seraphina was already stirring, her azure gown torn and stained with the yellow dust of the dunes.

“Eugene...” she gasped, shielding her eyes from a sun that looked too large, too white, and far too close. “The Pope... the explosion...”

“He’s gone, Seraphina,” Eugene said, his voice a dry rasp. He helped her to her feet, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his magic sword. The steel felt uncomfortably hot to the touch. “The Cathedral is gone. We’ve been pulled into a Dungeon.”

They stood atop a massive dune of shifting, golden sand that stretched infinitely in every direction. There were no landmarks, no clouds, only the oppressive heat and the shimmering distortion of the horizon.

Suddenly, the sand beneath them vibrated.

Skreeeeeee!

A high-pitched, chittering scream tore through the hot air. From the base of the dune, a creature erupted. It was a Centipede Magical Beast, nearly twenty feet long, its segments covered in a thick, chitinous armor that reflected the sun like polished brass. Its hundreds of legs were like serrated scythes, and its mandibles dripped with a clear, sizzling acid.

“Get back!” Eugene roared, drawing his sword.

The blade hummed with the golden light of the Solious Faith, but the glow felt muffled, suppressed by the heavy, chaotic mana of the desert. The centipede lunged, moving with a terrifying, undulating speed across the sand.

Seraphina’s whip cracked like a thunderbolt, the magic leather catching the beast’s head and jerking it aside. “Eugene, now!”

He moved in a blur, his instincts taking over. He slid beneath the creature’s rising torso, his blade carving a line of golden fire across its soft underbelly. Green ichor sprayed the sand, hissing as it evaporated in the heat. The beast thrashed, its scythe-legs tearing deep furrows in the dune before it finally went limp, its segments twitching in the throes of death.

Eugene panted, wiping sweat from his brow. “This isn't a normal dungeon. The mana density is... it's wrong. It’s too unstable.”

“Look there,” Seraphina pointed toward the valley between the dunes.

As the dust settled from the fight, they saw a structure rising from the sand. It looked like a temple entrance, but as they approached, the dread took hold. The archway was a nightmare of intertwined limbs, thousands of hands reaching out as if trying to grab the very sun.

And there, woven through the fingers like a parasitic vine, were the Broadleaf Arrowhead flowers forming the door.

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