Reincarnated as a Dungeon Master, I Became Unstoppable by Doting on My Monsters—My Gorgeous Monsters Have Started to Conquer the World on Their Own!

Walking through the river of burning liquor, I truly feel what it must be like to be meat being flamed.

Beyond the egg-shaped magical barrier, the Great Tower of Nadinalezre looked more like a hospital corridor than a dungeon, making it appear more dramatic than any RPG dungeon.

There’s no excitement like delving into a volcano or the persistent feeling of challenging a demon lord’s castle. It’s oppressively heavy, illuminating nonexistent wars and sensational events, offering nothing to uplift the heart. Yet, inexplicably, such scenes captivate me.

…The heaviness isn’t just a metaphor. It’s hotter than a sauna, and we constantly compete for oxygen with the flames.

“What floor are we on again?”

I ask, quenching my dry throat, parched by the mist magic.

“We’re on the 73rd… ‘Clear view yonder,’ ‘Songs bound in funeral rites,'” Hazel answered, looking more sedentary than usual. Despite appearing listless, Hazel is surprisingly reliable in such situations.

Since the zombie attack started, casting attack spells mid-conversation has become normal. Casting ice magic on the enemy dungeon master not only cools us down but also serves two purposes.

…Even though the flames and smoke can be endured with magic, we still need to breathe hot air inside the barrier. It’s quite challenging to face a zombie attack from the enemy dungeon master in such suffocating conditions.

I’ve often used the zombie attack myself, but only when experiencing it, do I realize its strengths.

Ceaseless malicious intent is poison to humans. It’s even worse against a dungeon master whose behavior is unpredictable.

“…Is it difficult fighting a dungeon master?”

I muttered this thought. The opponent is a former human dungeon master, just like me. I wondered if there was a sense of sympathy.

“Not really…”

“I thought as much, Delilah,” Hazel retorted to Delilah’s murmur. Looking around, no one else felt any particular discomfort fighting them.

“According to Jacqueline, a zombie attack isn’t an unthinkable strategy. So, this guy isn’t special,” Anima quietly answered. Indeed, it seems I’m the only one who feels a kinship with him, while the others see him as just another dungeon master they’ll have to fight many times.

“I remember the master of Grabsdread Island wasn’t used to zombie attacks. They’re tough but not very strong, which is good, but why is this one so accustomed to it? ‘Enveloping Wind Quartet.'”

I cast magic at Ryuujo while speaking.

I’ve given up on capturing him without killing him… There’s no room to protect a fatally wounded human in this inferno-like dungeon… Moreover, he’s likely intentionally reducing his vitality and durability.

“Spending more time might be safe, but there are too many oddities. The frequency of his appearances is too high, and it’s too one-note,” Anima mused, hand on his chin. Indeed, if Jacqueline is the dungeon master, many things don’t add up.

“Is it even possible to make such a hole? Without a plan to include Ryuujo among the monsters, creating holes through 70 floors seems impossible. I guess the impact of falling can be handled with magic.”

“Also, the atmosphere is strange. The intensity of the killing intent is fine. The inefficiency of the zombie attack is also acceptable. But it’s like there’s too little leeway.”

“There’s no playfulness, huh?”

Jacqueline, who taught us the basics of dungeons, is like a teacher to us. If she had been the one hunting many dungeon masters, she would have come up with more elegant traps.

Pouring beer is fine, but burning it for a zombie attack, a method of tormenting like slow suffocation didn’t seem like her style.

“A sudden takeover, maybe. But that makes it even more unclear what she wants. If she wanted to kill me, she wouldn’t use a zombie attack, and it doesn’t seem wise to deceive me in the future. It’s all too illogical and nonsensical, both the means and the end.”

… I must confront her directly if I want to know the truth.

I refocused my determination. As a dungeon challenger, being alert to unknown enemies and traps is natural.

────But at that time, we were still underestimating Jacqueline.

Her dungeon was always beautiful and playful; we hadn’t seen it until then.

After ascending two more floors, Hazel cast a wind spell at Ryuujo, who was walking ahead, creating a spray of water as usual. The angle and distance of the spell were the same as always.

However, the blade of wind she released flew in the wrong direction, needlessly scarring the wall.

Ryuujo, unaffected ── although I think he wouldn’t have dodged even if the aim was perfect ── approached us with a falling-forward gait.

I instinctively countered with additional wind magic. Created by the wind blade, Ryuujo’s upper body was cleanly sliced off like tofu.

The problem, though, was with Hazel. Why did her magic miss?

“Hazel! What happened?”

I realized I had been so focused on potential new enemies that I hadn’t paid attention to my companions. On closer inspection, Hazel’s condition was off, her steps unsteady.

I thought she might be injured and looked at her face, only then understanding the cause of her discomfort. At first, her pale skin appeared red from the reflection of the flames. But no, she was flushed from being drunk.

“My apologies… something’s not right,” she slurred, leaning heavily as if melting like cheese while maintaining the barrier.

─── It must be the alcohol vaporized by the flames. Alcohol absorbed into the bloodstream through the lungs gets you drunk faster than drinking.

But that’s strange; we’re always on guard against poisonous gases in the dungeon, having prepared accordingly.

“Hehe, I shouldn’t be affected by poison…”

Hazel, being of the undead, should especially neutralize potent toxins. Alcohol should not affect her.

“It’s not a poison. Getting drunk is one of the luxuries afforded to humans,” Jacqueline’s voice chimed in, suddenly appearing after being silent. It meant we had fallen for her trap, and she was taunting us.

─── Damn, that’s right. If Nanaya Goddess’s story is true, monsters in this world aren’t immune to poison because of their strong immunity, but because the gods programmed ‘strength’ into them, including toxin neutralization.

So, anything not categorized as a poison could bypass this skill.

Besides, we’ve shown Jacqueline drinking several times.

I don’t know which god set this up, but vaporized alcohol should be considered a poison. I’d like to request a revision of that judgment.

“For now, purify your breath! Use anything, even a handkerchief!”

I was still clear-headed… not sure why. Because I’m good with liquor? I held my breath, but we had already fallen into the trap.

“Too late. Haven’t you experienced it? Since ancient times, a drunkard by the water is bound to fall in.”

There was a loud thud, and I saw two hands emerging from the ground ── Delilah’s and Hazel’s.

They writhed and tried to climb out. It was a pitfall hidden by the flames!

A sudden trap, Jacqueline’s voice, and the heat-addled consciousness ── we were perfectly caught off guard!

“Damn it!”

“My Lord!”

Anima stopped me as I instinctively tried to help them. Helping trapped comrades only to fall into another trap is a classic dungeon strategy.

And it might be too late. If Jacqueline knew Hazel’s true nature, she would have prepared something far more sinister than a spike trap.

As I hesitated, Hazel’s head popped up from the burning surface of the water. Even as just a head, she could freely fly through the air. That’s how she sent her decapitated head to us.

A horrific sight, but what lay beneath the water, inside the pit, was even worse. Her head was fading away. Whatever erased someone as resilient as Hazel must be an extremely dangerous device.

Yet even in such unbearable agony, Hazel maintained an unnaturally strong will and smiled.

“It seems Jacqueline knew my weakness. It’s okay. At least I can respawn.”

“Alright. Rest well. And please tell Delilah she did well, too.”

Then her head fell into the burning beer… She was dead.

“She’s well-prepared, isn’t she?”

I glared at the ceiling. When dungeon monsters with infinite lives fight, attacks naturally become excessive. Like Rosarosa killing me repeatedly, life in a dungeon is surprisingly cheap.

But the way Hazel and Delilah were killed had neither malice nor hostility… It felt more like they were being made to disappear, and it was slightly unpleasant.

“Well-prepared? It’s just an improvised trap… Do you believe me?”

Implied in her words was a doubt: You don’t believe me, do you? Jacqueline answered. We were only halfway through the dungeon.

…This is the dungeon conquest battle. A hero’s fight recklessly breaks through the enemy’s carefully planned strategies.

I’m prepared to die. But no matter how prepared, conquering a dungeon is never a simple contest, I realized.

“What should we do? Escaping might be what she hates most.”

“No, we need to confirm. Please, bear with me.”

I rejected Anima’s suggestion to survive.

Indeed, the two of us could handle Ryuujo, but beating Jacqueline was unlikely. I didn’t intend to fight her; knowing her true intention was enough. So, I had to ask Anima to join me in a possibly fatal role.

“Leave it to me. I, too, want to see the changes that have occurred, Jacqueline, with my own eyes.”

Anima agreed to my selfish request with a smile.

The members of “Ragnel’s Labyrinth” have endured hellish days. They won’t be mentally defeated.

“Wait for us, Jacqueline! I forgave your previous attack due to circumstances, but this time, you’ll have to apologize no matter what.”

Anima and I started walking up the stairs again. That’s when I heard a heavy dragging sound from the side. Jumping away, thinking it might be a new trap, I heard a familiar voice instead.

“As expected of you, Wito. Your kindness, your strong will. All top-notch. But enough chasing, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t a voice echoing through the dungeon walls but a real voice. The wall moved, opening a staircase upward. The noise must have been from this mechanism.

And there she was, Jacqueline, sitting in a wheelchair, holding a core the size of a bust, like a child. Seeing her, I finally understood why the zombie attack was so frequent.

“…Have you been just above us this whole time?”

“Yes. It seemed unfair to make you climb down from the 150th floor every time.”

She had been waiting for a floor above us, flowing beer down while moving the core at a fixed distance. Such a primitive trick.

And now, with two members dead, Jacqueline showed herself, probably to settle things. But instead, she turned her wheelchair and moved deeper inside.

“Wait!”

Anima and I ran up the stairs to find a large, imposing stone door- the boss’s room’s door.

Behind the door was Jacqueline, and the room’s interior was a dimly lit space surrounded by soot-blackened bricks and lit only by candles, a typical core room setting I had known for years.