Who Designed This Dungeon Chapter 161 - 161

Let's assu that a single Shrieker could summon, at most, two minions at the sa ti.

Five Shriekers would therefore be able to summon ten minions in total. The Luluwo Group had five mbers—aning each person would need to face at least three monsters.

But was that really how things played out?

One by one, her companions collapsed. Once their ntal strength reached its limit, they could no longer continue fighting. Only Luluwo—whose ntal resilience far surpassed the others—was barely able to keep going.

Which ant that she alone had to face fifteen powerful monsters, each carrying severe ntal corruption effects.

And the Shriekers were still summoning more.

A complete stomp.

An unquestionable stomp.

Unfortunately—

The one being stomped was Luluwo.

When the Shriekers charged her all at once, Luluwo wore the sa expression of despair as a child about to be crushed beneath a speeding wagon.

Resurrecting the girl…

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself inside the bell tower.

This ti, aside from the clothes on her body, all the loot from the expedition was gone.

Just recalling the hellish scene before her death sent goosebumps crawling over her skin.

"I revived you," a deep, low voice spoke beside her. "You owe another one."

Luluwo turned her head.

The speaker was a burly man wrapped entirely in black. If Luluwo wore black robes for flair and elegance, then this man wore them solely to conceal himself. Even his face was wrapped in thick cloth, revealing only a pair of weathered eyes.

Belto and the others were still lying on the ground, unmoving—unrevived.

"Don't be so rigid…" Luluwo muttered as she clutched her head and forced herself upright.

The headache pounding through her skull was so intense that she couldn't even maintain her usual theatrical tone.

Seeing this, the burly man raised his hand. A soft, gentle glow spilled from his palm—

Holy light?

The light washed over her, easing the pain bit by bit. Only then did her expression finally relax.

"Thanks," Luluwo said. "Once I clear the dungeon, I'll carve your na onto the monunt as well."

"No need," the man replied calmly. "Just fulfill your promise."

"Killing two people for you is easy enough," Luluwo waved dismissively.

The man fell silent for a mont before asking, "How did the exploration go?"

"Not important."

Her expression stiffened as unpleasant mories surfaced, and she imdiately changed the subject.

"More importantly—how did your efforts to harass the Leon Group go?"

"Very well," the man said. "With repeated interference, they have no spare energy to explore the dungeon. Your victory is already assured."

"But I'm guessing you got killed a few tis," Luluwo added with a smirk. "How is it? Does your head hurt badly?"

After a brief pause, the man nodded.

"As expected of Leon." Luluwo stretched lazily, smiling.

"If circumstances were different, I'd really like to duel him openly in front of everyone."

She tilted her head. "By the way—your current condition won't support another invasion, right? What about tomorrow?"

"Eighteen people ford the Darkwraith Covenant today."

The man's voice remained flat, as if he were stating an ordinary fact.

"Impressive." Luluwo clapped lightly. "Where did you find them?"

"The church's list of sinners."

Luluwo's eyes lit up.

"Perfect!"

She looked at the burly man with unmistakable admiration.

This mysterious man was the very first Darkwraith oathbearer.

By chance, Luluwo had reached an agreent with him—mutual assistance, mutual benefit.

"However," the man continued, "the efficiency of invasions is still low. It takes nearly two hours just to invade Leon once."

"I have an idea," Luluwo said. "Want to hear it?"

She recalled how aristocrats in stage plays looked when plotting conspiracies. After a mont's thought, she lifted the corner of her mouth into an arrogant, theatrical smile.

"Publicize the location of the Darkwraith Covenant altar."

"As long as there are enough Darkwraith, soone will eventually invade Leon."

The man fell silent.

"What?" Luluwo pressed. "Reluctant to disrupt the city's order? I can understand that—it is a place you've protected for half your life."

"No," the man said as he lifted his head.

"This plan… is excellent."

And thus, an evil conspiracy was officially set into motion.

The next day?

No—there was no need to wait that long.

Just half an hour later, a piece of information from an anonymous source appeared on the city's central bulletin board, written in large, eye-catching letters:

[Location of the Darkwraith Covenant Altar and the Benefits of Invasion]

[Invading others and plundering their souls for growth is far safer than fighting monsters!]

The perks of being a Darkwraith were simple: kill others and seize their loot.

Win an invasion, and you could also obtain oath tokens to exchange for rewards at the altar.

By the ti the staff responsible for posting notices realized what kind of evil they had plastered onto the board—

It was already too late.

Always review your work carefully.

That very day, while the Sein Dungeon was still open, the number of invaders skyrocketed.

Inside the Sein Dungeon.

Ziraj, a fisherman who had spent the entire day in the Gourt Zone, walked cheerfully toward the bonfire with a net full of fish slung over his shoulder.

Between the Gourt Zone and the bonfire lay a small stretch of forest. Fortunately, it wasn't too dangerous—he could traverse it carefully even on his own.

"Today's a good day," he said happily. "Caught so many fish—this feels great."

Four or five fellow anglers echoed his sentint. Everyone felt that their luck had been unusually good lately.

They celebrated too soon.

[You are being invaded by the Darkwraith 'La La La'!]

"What the hell?!"

The sudden appearance of a crimson invader sent them scrambling into alert.

The invader looked like a newbie as well. He examined his spirit body for a mont before raising a butcher's blade toward the fishern.

"Wait! Let's talk this out!" Ziraj shouted.

"I'll give you so fish—just let us go, okay?!"

"You can actually catch fish?!" the invader snapped.

"I can't catch any at all! I have to kill you! Hand over your souls!"

Scenes like this played out across every corner of the dungeon.

Next ti, it might be your turn.

Day two.

Day three.

Even after the guild removed all information about the Darkwraith altar, the number of invaders continued to rise as word spread.

Did these people not think before signing the oath?

Darkwraith were aligned with the Abyss. Signing the covenant ant throwing in your lot with the Abyss itself.

Well—

Those who worried wouldn't sign.

Those who signed wouldn't worry.

So far, neither the Darkwraith nor the Warriors of Sunlight had received any divine revelations after forming their covenants. People's attitudes toward the altars gradually shifted from cautious reverence to casual acceptance.

If there were benefits to gain—what was wrong with being a Darkwraith?

The invasion craze swept through the dungeon, and adventurers found themselves locked in a brutal struggle for survival.

When darkness rises, light is never far behind.

The Warriors of Sunlight naturally refused to sit idle.

If they killed invaders while helping others, they could gain extra souls and Sun dals—this ignited the fighting spirit of every Warrior of Sunlight.

Warriors of Sunlight versus Darkwraith.

The adventurers of Bedford City were effectively divided into two camps.

But there was a fatal imbalance—

There were far fewer Warriors of Sunlight.

Far, far fewer.

Perhaps doing evil was simply easier.

Perhaps everyone carried darkness in their hearts.

Invading others under a fake na and a mask felt far more satisfying than playing the hero under the blazing sun.

Gradually, the Warriors of Sunlight could no longer keep up. The Church of Fire panicked, even traveling to other cities to request aid.

For so reason, this only caused the number of invaders to increase further.

[All Invaders Are Murderers!]

Posters condemning Darkwraith were plastered throughout the city.

anwhile, the true culprits—the Luluwo Group—continued advancing steadily through the dungeon amid the chaos.

They deliberately reduced their party size to lower the chance of being invaded, even if it ant slower progress.

The Leon Group, on the other hand, progressed at a snail's pace.

For reasons unknown, they seed far more likely to be invaded. Every day was spent fending off attacks, leaving no energy to explore.

Rumors even spread that Leon had ntally broken and stayed ho without leaving his house. For the past few days, an adventurer nad "Darrick" had been filling his spot.

A perfect plan.

Luluwo laughed in her sleep.

Even the burly man's voice carried more emotion now—no longer stiff or flat. The chaos in the city clearly pleased him.

The masterminds were ecstatic.

As for the adventurers—

So were happy.

So were miserable.

So felt nothing at all.

So discovered that parties larger than four were more likely to be invaded, so they reduced their numbers—but smaller teams ant slower exploration.

Before long, so players might quit the dungeon entirely, their progress ruined by endless invasions.

But Wade—

Wade would never allow things to spiral that far.

So far, every reaction from the adventurers was unfolding exactly according to plan.

If ordinary people were Fire, and invaders were the Abyss—then when flas weakened under abyssal pressure, a hero would inevitably rise to pass on the fire.

And now—

That hero, ticulously arranged by Wade, had erged.

Look—

It was Leon.

He stepped out of his house wearing the Ring of Invincibility.

His beard had gone unshaven for days, giving him a rough, weathered appearance—but his eyes were sharper than ever.

Not long after, he entered a secluded tavern—not to drink, but to et soone.

"What's wrong?"

An elf girl who looked utterly exhausted raised her head to look at him across the table.

It was Stella.

As a Warrior of Sunlight, she had been struggling more and more against invaders lately. She'd co to her usual tavern to drown her frustrations.

There were simply too many bad people. No matter how many invaders she killed, they never seed to run out.

"Help with sothing," Leon said.

Calmly, he laid out his entire plan.

At first, Stella listened absentmindedly.

But by the end, she straightened, her eyes shining.

"If this works," she said, "the chaos in the city will be resolved."

Leon smiled confidently.

"I've already found soone else to help," he added. "You know him too."

Stella sprang to her feet.

The plan sounded highly feasible.

"When do we leave?" she asked eagerly. "I can't wait."

"Right now," Leon replied. "But first—"

He smiled faintly and placed a filthy thief's hood on the table.

"You'll need to wear this."