Viktor stepped through the dark threshold, his bare feet touching cold stone that felt both ancient and newly formed—the weird paradox of dungeon construction. The air shifted, pressure changing like diving underwater, and suddenly the darkness pulled back like a curtain.

Empty black space stretched before him. Not the void kind of darkness. More like someone had painted everything with matte black paint and then strategically placed lighting to make certain things stand out.

Several wooden dolls stood scattered across the floor. They were crude things—carved from what looked like oak, joints visible, faces featureless except for shallow indentations where eyes and mouths should be. They stood motionless, arms at their sides, like props waiting for a play to start.

At the center stood something different.

A wooden knight.

Taller than Viktor by at least half a foot, the figure was carved with far more detail than the simple dolls. Armor plates had been etched into the wood grain, helmet shaped with precision, even a wooden sword clutched in its right hand. It stood perfectly still, frozen mid-stance like a statue.

Viktor stared at it.

"This is supposed to be threatening?" he muttered.

Behind him came soft footsteps. He glanced back to see Elara emerging from the entrance, her amber eyes wide, her hand instinctively moving to her chest, embracing it as it felt sensitive, just like her wrist, which he had held her with.

She looked nervous, which was fair considering they'd just walked into a dungeon tower that pulsed with demonic essence.

Viktor turned back to the wooden knight, head tilting. His dark eyes—currently normal, not flashing purple—scanned the construct with tactical precision.

"System," he said aloud, ignoring Elara's presence entirely. "Aren't these things a bit... weak-looking?"

A familiar translucent window materialized in front of him, text scrolling into existence.

[Host Query Acknowledged]

[First Floor Configuration: Standard Difficulty]

[Puppet Units possess replicated abilities of Helena Redwood - First Wife designation]

[Abilities include: Herb Mastery, Culinary Genius, Domestic Mastery, Textile Expertise, Physical strength, and stamina channeled in real time.]

[Multiplier: 100x applied to combat effectiveness]

Viktor blinked.

Then he snorted, the sound echoing weirdly in the black space. "Helena's abilities? So these things can... cook me to death? Sew me into submission?"

[Negative. Combat application of non-combat skills results in unconventional threat patterns.]

[Example: Herb Mastery translates to instant poison creation and deployment.]

Viktor's amusement died. "Ah. Right. That makes sense."

He scratched the back of his head, hair falling across his eyes as he processed. Helena's abilities multiplied by a hundred would actually be terrifying in the right context.

Someone who could identify any plant instantly and create potent poisons in seconds? That was an assassin's wet dream.

But where were the plants here? If a hunter rushed towards them with a sword, will these things gather herbs?

"Still," Viktor said, gesturing at the wooden knight, "does that thing even move?"

[Affirmative. Central Boss Unit requires control interface activation.]

[Two operational modes available:]

[1. Automated Training Simulation - Boss operates independently with preset combat patterns]

[2. Direct Control - Host assumes manual control of Boss Unit]

Viktor stared at the text. Then at the wooden knight. Then back at the text.

He chuckled.

The sound was low, genuinely amused, the kind of laugh that came when you realized something absurd. "So this place really is just a massive training ground for me, huh?"

It wasn't the first time he'd said that. Hell, he'd known from the beginning that the dungeon tower existed partly to prepare him for... whatever was coming. The hunters. The kingdom collapse. All of it.

But standing here, looking at a wooden puppet that possessed all of his current abilities, the reality of it hit differently.

If he wanted to fight someone who matched his strength, he could control the boss himself and face off against hunters. Or if he wanted to test his skills against his own fighting style, he could activate the training mode and fight the thing.

"Heh." Viktor's lips curved into a genuine smile. "That's actually pretty smart."

Behind him, Elara shifted uncomfortably. "Um... Young Lord? What are you talking about?"

Viktor ignored her. His attention was fully on the wooden knight now, dark eyes narrowing as he assessed it.

The construct stood perfectly balanced, weight distributed like a trained swordsman. The wooden blade it held was positioned correctly—edge angled, grip proper.

Whoever—or whatever—had designed this thing knew what they were doing.

Viktor rolled his shoulders, feeling the stretch across his back. His muscles were still sore from last night's... activities. Twelve hours of fucking four women consecutively would do that, even with incubus stamina.

He turned his head slightly, not fully looking back. "Elara. Stay back."

"Wh-what?" Her voice pitched higher.

"Stay. Back." He repeated it slower, enunciating each word. Then he walked forward, bare feet padding silently across the black stone floor.

One of the wooden dolls stood nearby, a simple practice sword leaning against its leg. Viktor picked it up without ceremony, weighing it in his hand. Solid oak. Balanced. Good enough.

He spun it once, muscle memory from Kaida's Blade Dance ability—the one which created infinite slashes around his body as twice the length of the sword—kicking in automatically.

The wooden blade moved through the air with a whisper, rotating in a perfect arc before settling back into ready position.

"Alright," Viktor said, grinning now. The expression was sharp, predatory, the kind of smile that made smart people nervous. "Let's see how this thing behaves."

He focused on the system window still hovering in his peripheral vision. "Activate the automatic training session."

[Command Acknowledged]

[Initiating Automated Training Mode...]

[Boss Unit Activation: Sequence Start]

The text scrolled rapidly. Then—

[Target Designation: Kill Viktor Redwood]

Viktor's grin froze.

"...Ehh?"

The wooden knight moved.

Not slowly. Not with the jerky, mechanical motion you'd expect from a puppet.

It moved 'fast'.

One moment it stood motionless, frozen like a statue. The next, its wooden sword blurred through the air in a horizontal slash aimed directly at Viktor's throat.

"SHIT—!"

Viktor's body reacted before his brain caught up. His practice sword snapped up, angling to parry, Blade Dance instincts screaming the correct positioning.

CRACK!

Wood collided with wood. The impact shuddered up Viktor's arms, far harder than it should've been. The wooden knight's strike carried serious force—enough to shatter bone if it connected.

Viktor skidded backward, bare feet scraping across stone. His dark eyes widened, heart rate spiking.

The wooden knight didn't pause. It stepped forward, wooden joints creaking, and thrust its blade toward Viktor's sternum.

Viktor twisted, letting the thrust pass by his ribs, then swung his own blade at the knight's exposed arm.

THUNK.

His sword bounced off the wooden armor plating. The impact jarred his wrist but did zero damage.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Viktor snapped, jumping back to create distance.

The wooden knight advanced. Its movements were smooth now, perfectly balanced, footwork textbook-perfect. It raised its sword overhead in a guard position, then feinted left before slashing right.

Viktor barely blocked it.

Behind him, Elara pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide with shock. "Young Lord—!"

"DON'T DISTRACT ME!" Viktor yelled, parrying another strike that nearly took his head off.

The wooden knight's blade came down in a vertical chop. Viktor sidestepped, the sword missing him by inches and cracking into the stone floor hard enough to send chips flying.

Viktor swung at the knight's back.

The wooden construct spun, impossibly fast, and deflected the attack with its gauntleted forearm. Then it punched.

Viktor's eyes went wide. "Oh, come on—"

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