Ever felt like dying? I did but I am so hating the way I died. Why? The answer is easy, it was cliche as fuck!

Yeah, the fucking truck took another fucking victim, and I even saw the bastard coming and dodged, but he veered and smashed me into a concrete wall. Just to spite me more, my soul didn’t move on immediately so I could see that the truck put itself in reverse and didn’t even have one fucking scratch after the smash besides the blood from my crushed body and when it sped away my soul was finally pulled into the great white light in the sky.

Just kidding, that would have hurt since I was actually flying into space heading for the fucking sun, but then a really awesome looking magic circle array appeared and I was instantly swallowed by it. Everything went dark until I found myself waking up in a cold damp room with around 10 or 15 other people.

Then a shit load of knights in armor came in and spoke in a strange language pushing us along until we were in a throne room where some old coot shot a ball of light into each of us which seemed to be a translation spell that was permanent. The next lines made about half the people in our group laugh and the rest sighed.

I was the lowest minority who sighed and chuckled.

“Greetings heroes! I am King Trace Wharton Heavenlight the Second and we have summoned you to help us defeat the demons!” the king said.

When he saw our expressions, he frowned.

“What is so funny! This matter is of urgent importance!” he shouted.

“My colleagues don’t mean disrespect, sir!” The words came from a prince charming with blond hair tied in a sissy ponytail. The hair clearly dropped down to his shoulders, or he wouldn’t be able to have so much hanging back. On top of that he had a charming smile and an athletic body, plus shining white teeth.

The king instantly smiled as he looked at the idiot.

I rolled my eyes. “Great, a narcissist that likes to do the prince charming hero act,” I said out loud.

More than half the men in the group almost started to laugh while the prince charming’s smiling face twitched as he forced himself to keep it up.

I knew I didn’t look good, but still I was a cut above the rest and could say I was at least his equal. Though I may have been a NEET, that is, not in education, employment or training, I still left my house. I did lots of exercise and had a sculpted body, with a somewhat refined face with black eyes and hair. Still, because of my closed pessimist personality I had no friends and couldn’t open up so I was a loner. Unlike prince charming, I stood with my arms crossed and no smiling face.

“Don’t be rude to this young well refined gentlemen,” the king shouted my way.

“I act how I please to who I want, if you want my respect you need to earn it, but I need to thank you all,” I said with a bow, leaving everyone curious.

“Thank us? Why?” the king asked.

“Because I had died in the most cliche way. You wouldn’t understand, but my fellow ‘heroes’ might,” I said bluntly and the nerdier ones began laughing and explained to the others.

“Alright enough! Let us get to it, this world is known as Altgar, this world possesses several sentient races and we humans are one such race with the protection of several dozen deities who keep us safe from the demons. Demons themselves have their own deities that conflict with us and most other races besides the dark ones. Most races have agreed to summon heroes so your groups aren’t the only ones. The reason being, because the demons are much more powerful. Like us they also summoned their own heroes, and we are forced back because of the sudden extreme push they gave,” the king explained.

At that point I lifted my hand, and he looked my way.

“I want to get this out of the way from the start, who started warring first? Was it the demons or was it the humans or whoever that wanted to ‘cleanse’ the demons because they are aligned with the ‘evil’ gods?” I asked.

A number of people scowled deeply at the question but no one moved.

“This war has been going on for over a thousand years. Even we no longer know who started this, and things have reached a point of no return a long time ago,” the king said. I nodded, more or less understanding that I would have no way to judge who was right and wrong in starting the war.

“Now then, unlike us natives, besides those blessed for it, heroes are all summoned with a unique class and artifact. All you need to do is say ‘summon,’” the king said.

We all looked at each other and shouted, “Summon!” in unison.

Fifteen lights shone from our bodies and formed balls of light that slowly condensed and took shape.

Looking at mister prince charming, his artifact turned into a sword with gems embedded into it. The people around us were really excited by that. Following that, all the others formed different weapons from staffs, to bows, sabers, spears, daggers, and all forms of weapons.

Mine was the slowest to form and kept gathering more light released by my body.

“This must be a very powerful artifact for it to take so long?” an elderly wizard said. He was the old man who cast the translation spell.

Soon the light stopped flowing and took the shape of a white book, a pen, and a short sword.

All three floated down and I took the book in one hand, and the pen and sword in the other.

On the book’s cover were some words that said, ‘Book of the Dungeon Maker.’

The name gave me a bit of a sinking feeling.

“What sort of artifacts are those?” the king asked.

The mage walked up and looked.

“Dungeon Maker?” The mage muttered and quickly ran over to a pedestal with a rather large book and began to slowly flip through the pages.

“While he is doing this search, everyone say ‘Status’ so you may see your strengths and weaknesses as well as your class.”

Saying so, a blue window appeared in front of me.

Status:

Name:

Ace Cross

Class:

Dungeon maker

Level:

1

Health:

500

Mana:

650

Strength:

50

Intelligence:

65

Agility:

45

Wisdom:

65

Endurance:

50

Vitality:

50

Skills

Dungeon Archive:

Level 1

This skill allows the caster to seal constructed parts of the dungeon within the Book of the Dungeon Maker and make copies.

Can currently make layouts for 3 dungeons.

You can store only 5 different corridor layouts.

You can store only 2 room types.

You can store only 5 different traps.

Magic Hole Formation

Level 1

This skill allows the caster to open a magic hole into a separate dimension where the constructed dungeon exists, it allows monsters in and out openly. The magic hole draws mana from the air making the dungeon more comfortable. Eventually, if seeds are planted or brought in by the dungeon targets, it can make natural drops like magic plants spawn,.

Can currently make 1 small magic hole.

Crafter

Level 0

This skill allows you to learn all craft skills for the purpose of making a dungeon.

This skill level will grow with the overall skill of all crafts learned.

Current crafts learned:

None

Short Sword Mastery

Level 1

Your master with the short sword.

Increases damage by 1%

Short Sword Arts

Level 1

Arts that only masters of the short sword can learn.

Level 1: Double Slash

Runic Writing/Language

Level 1

This skill corresponds to the level of comprehension of the Runic Language and how many runes you have learned and can use properly.

Current runes known: 11

Can be found in Runic Dictionary within the Book of the Dungeon Maker.

Looking at the stats, it was rather uninteresting, though I found it funny how my mental stats were surprisingly high.

“Wow, fire mage! Epic, I wonder how strong my fire can be. I can’t wait to cause widespread mayhem!” one mage said.

“Heh, I got high priest, so beat that!” another man said.

“Hey look I got knight, and there is information saying it can be upgraded if I get some requirements!” someone with a spear said.

I kept hearing the irritating cries from the others who got a random common class that seemed to be upgradable. I saw none of that, meaning mine had no upgrade options.

I looked at the guy that got the sword and saw a hidden smirk.

“Oh joy, what a surprise, he got the hero class,” I thought.

“Alright, all of you call out your class in an orderly fashion,” the king called glancing at his court mage who was shifting though that old book.

One by one, people called out the name of the class ranging from knight to monk. Finally, the last two were me and pretty boy.

“My class, is hero!” the pretty boy said making the king’s eye shine and smile.

Then he looked at me with a cold look.

“What is yours?” he asked.

“Dungeon maker,” I replied.