Evan stared up at the massive wooden doors that sealed the boss room. The image of the sleeping dragon engraved on the door reminded him of something. He tried to recall why the image seemed so familiar, but it slipped through his grasp like water through fingers.

“I can sense the core responsible for this dungeon hidden somewhere behind these doors,” Fenrir whispered. Evan could hear something in the shadow core’s voice that he hadn’t heard in ages. Something primal.

Hunger.

The summoner took a moment to summon six black knights. Six shadows glided down Evan’s body and onto the floor before manifesting themselves in front of him. They knelt.

“Open the door,” he commanded.

Four of the knights moved towards the door, while the other two stood on either side of Evan — swords, and shields drawn.

The knights pushed and the doors creaked as they opened. Evan walked through the doors and found himself inside a large room with a dome-like ceiling. The walls were lined with stone balconies, like a colosseum. A battered red carpet stained with age led to a golden throne that stood in the center of the room.

With a thought, Evan dismissed the shadow knights as he made his way towards the throne. As he got closer he could see that the throne wasn’t empty, occupied by a lone figure resting his head on his hand. The beast on the throne resembled the knights that he had been fighting since entering the dungeon except for the heavy, crimson-colored armor and the helmet in the shape of the crown that adorned it. On one side of the throne stood a massive two-handed sword. The jagged blade looked caked in dried blood — at odds with the pristine armor.

Red eyes followed Evan as he approached the throne. The crimson knight lifted his head and spread out his hands in greeting. A toneless, guttural voice laced with venom filled the room. “Ahh, another lamb to the slaughter. Welcome.”

Fenrir let out a menacing growl that reverberated through the room. Evan smirked as the crimson knight's head swiveled rapidly, looking for the source of the growl. After a moment of searching, the warrior sat back down. “You can hide all you want. It matters not. You are still outnumbered.”

The beast on the throne lifted his arms and the balconies filled with armor-clad monsters. Evan surveyed the newcomers out of the corner of his eye. He counted over two dozen dungeon knights, a dozen archers and a handful of beasts wrapped in cloaks that he guessed were mages.

Evan smiled at the crimson beast as he activated [Summon Shadow]. The knight reached for his massive sword as six shadowy figures rose up from the ground behind Evan.

It took a moment for the beast to speak again. “Who — what are you?”

Fenrir’s laugh echoed through the throne room. “He is a King, little monster. We are here for the core. But we will take your life as well if you so wish it.”

The crimson knight tightened his grip on the sword and rose out of his throne. “I am Tyr! The only King here is me!” it roared. The jagged two-handed sword caught fire at his words. He raised it towards Evan, “Kill him!”

Evan heard a whistle as an arrow flew through the air near his head. He felt a drop of blood land on his shoulder where the arrow had nicked his ear. There was a series of clanging sounds as his shadow knights sprang into action and deflected more arrows aimed at their king.

Fenrir let loose a blood-curdling howl as Evan’s eyes transformed from a bright blue to a pitch black. “Kill them all! Leave none alive!”

Mana seeped from Evan’s eyes as he began to walk towards the dungeon king, leaving a trail of black smoke behind him.

* * *

Tyr laughed in certain victory as he launched himself from the steps of his throne and used all his strength to slam the two-handed sword on the false king’s head. He would slaughter this intruder just as he had slaughtered those that had come before him.

His laughter was cut short when he saw that his sword had been stopped by the black blade that had appeared in the false king’s hand. With practiced ease, the false king swatted Tyr’s massive sword away and forced him to take a step backward in a display of immense strength. How could this be?! I am a King!

In a moment of panic, Tyr looked around for his guardians. They outnumbered the false king seven to one. Surely his servants had dispatched the man’s warriors by now.

Fear crept into his soul as he watched the false king’s knights slaughter his guardians. They felt no pain and showed no fear as his servants severed limbs and riddled their bodies with arrows. Mages threw fireballs that melted the false king’s warriors and the ground around them. Yet, every time they killed one, another took its place. An endless, unkillable army of death.

* * *

“You should be worried for your own life,” Evan whispered as the dungeon king watched his shadow knights butcher the dungeon beasts. There was a fraction of a second where the summoner felt pity for the dungeon king. To feel true fear for the first time. To know your life is about to end. To feel so helpless. It was maddening.

But that pity was soon overshadowed by Fenrir’s rage and hunger. It had been so long that Evan had forgotten how unquenchable the ancient core’s bloodthirst was. All-consuming.

Evan shot forward with a burst of speed and slashed the sword at the king’s neck. The beast king brought up his sword to deflect the blow, but Evan dismissed the shadow blade. He re-summoned the blade as his hand sailed past the king’s parry. The blade paused for a second as it collided with the king’s armored neck before taking the king’s head from his body.

Tyr’s head rolled forward several feet before coming to a complete stop and turning to dust. Fenrir roared in triumph as Evan bent down to pick up the king’s green monster core.

His shadows returned a few minutes later, dropping a pile of blue monster cores at his feet. He placed the cores inside his [Ring of Holding] and turned to face the knights.

“Go. Find where the dungeon core that protects this place is hiding. Fenrir is hungry.”