Ah, now this was something worth seeing. Ramiris—or rather, the spirit queen of Eterna—had exceeded even my expectations. Her talent was impressive, more than I had initially judged. I had underestimated her once, but no longer. This changed everything.
But admiration alone wouldn't bring progress. This hall wasn't just a chamber to confront adventurers. Its true purpose… was to give Veldora a place to fully return to his original dragon form. A space where his spirit could rest, his power could breathe. If he couldn't relax here, everything would be meaningless.
But from what I had observed of him lately, he already seemed unusually at ease even without taking on his true form. Ever since he'd gained his human shape, the fool had buried himself in manga, games, and all sorts of nonsense. He'd practically turned my own quarters into his personal den.
So I made up my mind. If he was going to stay here anyway, I would give him a room that would match his taste—but with my touch.
Two massive gates were built into the hall. One connected to the staircase that spiraled toward the upper floors, the other opened to what would become his private chamber. Thanks to Ramiris' power, my vision became reality almost immediately.
"Oh? Is this… my room?" Veldora's voice carried a mix of curiosity and childlike excitement.
I ignored his eager grin. Instead, I raised my hand. In a flash of light, objects flowed out of my Abyssal Domain—my personal treasury.
I laid down the rich Eterna silk rug woven by the artisans. Solid blackwood tables and chairs followed, crafted with precision. Benches were placed along the wall for him to sprawl on. And yes, even a bed. I didn't know if he needed one, but I placed it there anyway.
Bookshelves lined the wall—overflowing with manga. Exactly the kind he wasted hours reading. The solemn, ancient atmosphere of the great hall contrasted sharply with this corner. A place built for ease, for private life, a space that reminded one of comfort rather than grandeur.
Ramiris hovered at my side, her tiny hands balled into fists of excitement. "N-Nice… it's so nice, Atem! I want something like this too!"
I turned to her, my golden eyes narrowing with amusement. "Then you shall have it. I'll prepare your set later. But for now, behave yourself."
She gave a delighted squeal and immediately leapt onto one of the benches, grabbing a manga without hesitation. Of course. Just like last time. She always acted this way.
I watched silently as Veldora climbed onto the bed like a child and started rolling around, laughing with satisfaction. The mighty Storm Dragon of Eterna… rolling on a bed. The contrast between the grandeur of the room and his behavior was almost absurd.
"Hey, Atem! This bed is amazing! I'm keeping it," he declared proudly.
"You may," I said coolly, folding my arms. "But destroy even one piece of what I placed here, and I will seal you again for fifty years."
His face stiffened. "G-Got it…"
Ramiris burst out laughing, flipping a page. "He's scared of you, Atem~!"
"Good," I replied sharply. "Fear keeps fools in line."
And with that, the matter of Veldora's chamber was settled.
After this, it took an entire week to complete the labyrinth. One hundred floors—each one carefully structured. Its design was modular; Ramiris could shift the layout every few days. Adventurers who dared to memorize it would soon discover how futile that was. This was not a place for weaklings. It was meant to break them, test them, and make them crawl.
Selling maps? An amusing thought. But no—doing so would strip away the thrill of stepping into the unknown. The labyrinth's difficulty would remain constant, its nature unpredictable. It would never grow old.
I placed Waypoints—save points—every ten floors. Solarys, the Sovereign of Wisdom, had helped me refine the system. Once certain conditions were met, adventurers could use Spatial Passage to jump between cleared floors. A mechanism that ignored interference from magicules. They could even transport rations and gear.
Efficient. Ruthless. Perfect.
Standing at the heart of the labyrinth, I observed the final structure. My creation. My dominion. The Labyrinth of Eterna was no mere dungeon—it was a living trial.
I glanced over at Veldora, who was still on the bed, reading manga upside down. Ramiris was beside him, already surrounded by an entire pile of books.
"Train well here, Veldora," I said, voice deep and commanding. "Soon… I will unleash a battle worthy of your hunger. The enemies you'll face next won't be mere mortals."
He froze mid-page, a sharp grin spreading across his face. "Heh… finally. A real fight."
"Yes," I replied, turning my back, cape flowing behind me like a shadow. "Gods."
The Storm Dragon's laughter echoed through the chamber, wild and eager.
Of course, the same applied to humans too. Once you reached a save point, you could transport freely to that exact location. No limitations, no restrictions. Even your companions could use the same method, which meant people could technically exploit it—using others to move deeper into the labyrinth without effort.
Naturally, that raised some questions. We had different opinions on whether that should be allowed. In the end, my decision stood. "Let them try," I told them. "It will only make their fall more entertaining."
Because what they didn't realize was this: between each save point, powerful bosses awaited. Not mere beasts—but guardians. As the ruler of Eterna, I wouldn't allow my labyrinth to be cheapened. I intended to place especially powerful monsters before every tenth floor. To reach the save point, you had to earn it.
No one would advance without proving their strength.
"If they can't defeat the floor guardian, they don't deserve to keep going," I said, my tone flat and absolute.
Ramiris floated beside me, arms crossed, looking curious. "And if they try to cheat?"
"Then they die," I answered coldly.
She laughed nervously. "Right. That's… one way to deal with it."
Even if they reached a save point through trickery, they wouldn't survive what waited beyond. That was fine by me. If there was any problem later, I would simply adjust the rules.
And there was more. I planned to place treasure chests as rewards for slaying floor bosses. Incentive. Mortals loved that. Gold, rare weapons, potions, artifacts—it would keep them hungry for more.
But then came the more delicate matter: what if the bosses themselves were killed?
That's where Ramiris' Labyrinth Creation truly revealed its terrifying nature. Her ability didn't just create structure—it allowed resurrection. Inside this domain, her subordinates could return after death.
The process normally required the individual's will. But if there was a ruler–subject bond with Ramiris, even that step wasn't needed. They revived automatically at the save points. In other words, immortality within the labyrinth.
"Your army here can't die," I said, my eyes narrowing.
"Yep," she answered with a grin. "That's the fun part."
Her subordinates could be revived endlessly.
Ramiris herself would vanish if killed, but those who served her—those she acknowledged—would return without fail. It was a terrifying ability.
That explained her obsession with Beretta. Ramiris herself wasn't a powerhouse. But her army? Indestructible in this place. And without real subordinates, this skill was wasted. Golems were useless because they lacked will—they couldn't trigger the resurrection.
But Beretta wasn't just a golem. Once he became her subordinate, he practically became an immortal guardian. And then there was Treyni. Two powerful beings, now wrapped in the concept of eternal revival.
Even if I sent my strongest from Eterna against them, the outcome would be uncertain. That was how dangerous this system was.
"Not bad," I said, folding my arms. "Your army may not leave the labyrinth… but here, it is unbeatable."
Ramiris puffed out her chest, proud.
Beretta and Treyni were already assisting with the construction of the colosseum outside—busy but loyal. The labyrinth was nearing completion smoothly. Soon, I would need to sit with them to finalize the defensive structure. But not yet. There was still one more thing to address.
"Ramiris," I called. "How is the item I asked you to prepare coming along?"
Her wings fluttered as she spun in the air. "Oh, you mean this? I've been working on it."
She floated down and produced something from a tiny glowing circle—a simple braided bracelet. It looked ordinary, but I could feel faint magical energy pulsing from it.
The item was key. I wanted a way for outsiders to temporarily access the resurrection system without Ramiris having to personally approve each one. If thousands of adventurers entered the labyrinth at once, she'd never keep up.
So this single-use, disposable item would do the job.
"Have you tested it?" I asked. My tone was firm, my eyes sharp.
She smirked mischievously. "Of course! I tried it on Beretta last night!"
A pause.
I arched an eyebrow. "You killed Beretta."
Ramiris laughed nervously, hands raised. "W-Well, I mean, it worked perfectly!"
A deep sigh escaped me. "Ramiris."
She flinched.
"Try it on a lesser subject next time. Beretta isn't a test dummy."
"Y-Yes sir!"
Even so, it worked. That was all that mattered. This bracelet, once bound to a wrist, would link its bearer to Ramiris' resurrection system for a single death. A one-time pass to cheat death.
Efficient. Dangerous. Perfect.
I turned my gaze to the labyrinth gates. Soon, adventurers would flood this place, chasing glory. Few would make it far. Fewer still would understand the trap they were walking into.
But that was how I designed it.
Eterna's labyrinth would not be conquered. It would consume.