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Dungeon Rebirth: I am the Starter Dungeon

daeman124
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Synopsis
He was the world’s last hope—the Hero from Earth who led humanity to victory against the Demon King. They called him savior. Worshiped him. Celebrated his triumph. Then they murdered him. Betrayed by his closest companions and executed by the very kingdom he saved, Kira dies inside the same tutorial dungeon where his journey once began. But death isn’t the end. Kira is reborn—not as a man, but as the core of the very dungeon they used to train him. With no body and barely any power, he begins again at Level 0, armed with nothing but a single slime, one trap, and a mind honed by years of war. But vengeance is a slow burn. With every adventurer who dares enter his domain, Kira's dungeon grows stronger. He unlocks new traps, forges monstrous allies, and even recruits powerful women into his ranks. Each death fuels his power. Each betrayal sharpens his resolve. The world thinks the Hero is gone. They couldn’t be more wrong.
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Chapter 1 - Prologue: The Death of a Hero

The sun bled out behind Everra's marbled spires, casting a sickly gold across the capital's cracked streets.

Petals fell from balconies, brittle as the dreams Kira once clung to, trampled underfoot by the roaring crowd.

Lutes wailed in the distance, their notes sour against the bards' songs of the Hero from Another World—the slayer of the Demon King, the blade that carved light from an age of shadow.

The masses chanted his name, "Ki-ra! Ki-ra! Ki-ra!" their voices raw, desperate, as if shouting could bind him to their world.

Kira of Earth.

The Beacon of Hope.

The Hero Chosen by the Stars.

He walked beside the royal float, his sword—once stained with demonic blood—now swathed in silk, light as a promise.

His armor gleamed, polished to a mirror's shine, reflecting the faces of strangers who worshipped him.

A grin split his face, wide and genuine.

This was it—the hero's triumph, straight out of an anime's final episode.

He'd done it.

He'd saved the world.

And today, Everra celebrated him, their cheers washing away the scars of his battles.

Back on Earth, he'd been a nobody.

A weeb at seventeen, holed up in a room littered with Naruto posters and Sword Art Online figurines, binging Overlord and arguing on forums about best-girl rankings.

He'd spent nights dreaming of isekai adventures, of being the overpowered protagonist with a harem and a destiny.

When the summoning light tore him from his desk, mid-debate over Rem versus Emilia, he'd thought it was fate.

Everra became his anime world—mana, monsters, and a leveling system that turned his trembling Level 1 self in the Tutorial Dungeon into a Level 99 Swordmaster.

With his companions—his found family—he'd fought, bled, and grown, their bond forged in fire.

They'd slain the Demon King, ended the Age of Darkness, and now, the world was his stage.

Today, he felt alive.

The crowd's love, the petals, the music—it was his happy ending, the kind he'd watched a hundred times on Crunchyroll.

"Kira." Her voice cut through the cheers, soft and melodic, like a heroine's call.

He turned, heart skipping.

Princess Avelia stood before him, draped in silver and sapphire, her beauty radiant as Asuna in her prime.

The King's youngest, she'd watched him from balconies, her gaze lingering as he fought for her kingdom.

To Kira, she was the ultimate waifu—elegant, untouchable, the one he'd secretly hoped might complete his isekai fantasy.

"Your Highness." He bowed, his grin widening, a weeb's charm masking his nerves.

Level 99 or not, he was still the kid who'd memorized Fate/stay night monologues, hoping for a love arc.

Avelia stepped closer, her eyes soft, her voice a whisper.

"I need to show you something, Kira. Alone. At the Tutorial Dungeon, where you first trained. It won't take long."

His heart leapt, his weeb brain spiraling.

The Tutorial Dungeon—where he'd swung his first sword, Level 1, dodging a goblin's claws like a shonen hero.

Alone with Avelia?

His mind raced to every romance trope he knew—confessions at dusk, a ring under starlight.

Was this it?

A proposal?

His cheeks flushed, his grin turning boyish, foolish.

She was his Rem, his Saber, and maybe, just maybe, she saw him as more than a hero.

"Of course, Your Highness," he said, voice bright, practically bouncing.

"Lead the way!"

Night cloaked Everra as they reached the dungeon's entrance, its stone stairs plunging into a damp, stifling dark.

The air was thick with moss and rusted iron, a faint echo of his first steps in this world.

No monsters lurked now, no traps clicked.

Just silence, heavy and intimate, like the calm before a climactic anime scene.

Kira's heart thrummed, his imagination painting a confession, a kiss, a future.

"It's… quieter than I remember," he said, voice light, glancing at Avelia. "Like it's waiting for something big."

She smiled faintly, trailing behind. "It's the same as ever. You're the one who's grown."

He beamed, taking it as a compliment, his weeb heart soaring.

He turned to her, ready to joke about their "destined moment"—and froze.

The chamber wasn't empty.

Shadows birthed figures, their armor glinting in the torchlight. Knights with drawn swords.

Mages clutching staves, mana flickering.

Adventurers he'd seen in Everra's halls, some he'd fought beside.

And there, among them, his party—his family.

Elaine, the priestess, his first friend here, who'd laughed at his weeb rants about Attack on Titan.

Her staff was dark, her face a mask of sorrow.

Daren, the spear-wielder, who'd shared stories of home by campfires, his eyes downcast, spear steady.

Mira, the rogue with fox ears, who'd teased him as "idiot hero," her daggers gleaming, her gaze hard as flint.

"What's… going on?" Kira's voice wavered, his grin faltering.

His hand hovered near his sword, but his heart clung to hope.

A surprise party? A ceremony?

Avelia stepped back, her face cold, no trace of the warmth he'd imagined.

"You've served your purpose, Hero."

His stomach dropped, the world tilting.

"What?" His voice was small, a boy's again, not a hero's.

Elaine's eyes glistened, but her voice was steady.

"The Demon King's gone. Peace is here. You… don't fit in this world anymore."

Daren's voice was rough, pained. "You're too strong, Kira. Too unpredictable. A danger to us all."

"You're not one of us," Mira said, her words sharp as her blades. "Just a weeb playing hero because of a cheat."

The word cut deeper than any sword, a betrayal of the bond he'd thought unbreakable.

His heart cracked, his weeb dreams—harem, glory, love—shattering.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "We fought together. I leveled for you. I gave everything!"

Steel answered.

KCHk!

A blade plunged into his back, cold and merciless, tearing flesh.

Another followed, then a third, ripping through ribs, blood flooding his throat.

The pain was blinding, a scream trapped in his chest.

He stumbled, gasping, blood spilling from his lips, staining the stone.

"No… please…" His voice broke, a sob, his hands clawing at the floor. His mana flickered, weak, useless. "Avelia… why?"

She didn't answer, her face a mask, like a villainess from his worst anime nightmares.

A spear pierced his thigh, pinning him. Magic bolts seared his chest—fire burning, lightning cracking bone.

His body screamed, each wound a betrayal, each cut tearing at his soul.

"I trusted you…" he choked, tears mixing with blood. "I thought… you loved me…"

Voices murmured, cold justifications in the dark.

"You were meant to die," a mage said.

"A hero's story ends here," a knight whispered.

"You'd ruin the peace we built," Daren muttered, his voice breaking.

Kira's eyes found Avelia, pleading, but she was stone.

"Die, Kira," she said, her voice ice. "And be forgotten."

His heart shattered, the pain worse than the blades.

He'd dreamed of her, of a life like his anime heroes, but this was no story.

This was real, and it hurt.

"You… can't erase me," he rasped, voice raw, trembling with grief and rage. "I'll come back… I'll make you all pay…"

His scream was broken, a wail of anguish that shook the dungeon.

The killers hesitated, his pain a weight they couldn't ignore.

But fear drove them.

Blades fell again—a spear through his ribs, magic scorching his flesh, an enchanted hammer crushing his skull.

His body gave out, blood pooling, a dark mirror of his broken dreams.

They left nothing.

Not even ash.

The dungeon was silent, its stones cold, the air thick with betrayal's stench.

But deep below, where mana pulsed like a grieving heart, something stirred.

A spark.

A weeb's shattered hope, burning with rage.

Kira's voice, faint and broken, whispered in the dark.

"I'll return."