Inside the deepest, darkest, and most absolutely ridiculous depths of the dungeon where even roaches wore armor and crystals glowed like moody teenagers sat a towering beast upon a throne made of shattered relics and crushed egos.
He was not just any monster.
He was Baelgor the Eternal Devourer.
King of the Primordial Ancient Beast Race.
Killer of Gods.
Destroyer of Universes.
Devourer of All-You-Can-Eat Battle Buffets.
Also now… Dungeon Boss
Baelgor stared down at the crater where Kyle had stood just days ago.
"Weak."
He slapped the armrest of his throne. A tremor shook the cavern.
"Weak."
Another slap. A nearby stalactite fell, crushing a poor gremlin intern carrying his lunch.
"WEAK AGAIN!"
He roared, flames flaring from his nostrils and setting fire to a nearby motivational banner that read:
"Hang in there, boss! Someday, a worthy warrior will show up!"
Baelgor grumbled, slouching on his throne like a dad on a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do.
"What is wrong with the warriors of this world?! They come in with big speeches, glowing eyes, tragic backstories, and then BAM! I just wave my tail and they fold like wet bread!"
He raised his clawed hand toward the dungeon ceiling, voice echoing like a drama actor at his final audition.
"That old bastard the Architect! He tricked me!"
Baelgor shook his fist so hard a lightning bolt struck a nearby goblin sentry (again, it was Greg. Poor Greg.)
"I, Baelgor the Eternal Devourer, once hunted galaxies for sport! I fought planetary titans for breakfast! I dined on the rage of gods! I flossed with dragon veins!"
He stood now, all thirty feet of scaled arrogance, wings unfurled like dramatic curtains.
"And now I've been sealed in this glorified beast prison for over a thousand years because I challenged that bald, robed fraud to a 'friendly duel' and he hit me with a UNO reverse card spell!"
The cave shook as he stomped once.
"I used to thrive on combat! Blood! Adrenaline! A good old-fashioned interstellar arm-ripping!"
He dramatically pointed at a framed picture of himself fighting a six-headed star deity he was mid-bite on the deity's spleen.
He collapsed back onto his throne with a massive huff, wings drooping.
"I just want someone strong to fight... someone who won't cry, explode, or make me yawn mid-battle. Is that too much to ask?"
He stared dramatically into the glowing core of the dungeon, imagining his escape, his revenge.
"When I get out... oh, when I get out... I'm going to destroy the Architect, eat half the Earth, and maybe start my own TV show. Something classy. Maybe a cooking show where I roast gods and eat them."
Still lounging on his throne of ancient bones and melted hopes, Baelgor let out a long, guttural sigh that made the cave tremble and a bat faint from emotional overload.
"Fighting is meaningless now..." he mumbled, staring at a crack in the ceiling like it had just asked him to define his purpose in life.
"Back in the day, battles thrilled me. The clash of blades, the roar of titans, the screams of galaxies getting obliterated ah, those were the days..."
He wiped an imaginary tear with the edge of a dragon-scale claw.
"But now? I can't even enjoy a decent duel. No one's strong enough. Not even close. So I gave up on fighting..."
He turned his head slowly, gaze full of unspoken trauma.
"That's when I started... the Dungeon Games."
A crystal near his throne shimmered and showed a highlight reel: Baelgor and a massive red dragon sitting in a glowing cavern, wearing oversized hoodies and playing games like bored roommates during a blackout.
"It was me... and Drakon the Flame-Wreathed Overlord," Baelgor said with a dramatic narrator voice. "He too was trapped here... poor guy tried to barbecue the Architect's cat and got sealed along with me."
He cracked his neck, which sounded like boulders colliding.
"At first we sparred, of course. Big fights. Epic roars. He scorched my beard once. I snapped one of his horns. It was beautiful."
Baelgor smiled wistfully. "But even those fights got old."
He leaned back with a heavy sigh, claws tapping against his armrest.
"So we made games. Dumb, meaningless games. But they gave us purpose."
His voice lowered as if recalling a painful betrayal.
"There was one game... Stone Stack."
A dramatic gust of wind blew through the cave as Baelgor's expression twisted with bitterness.
"You stack a stone. Then another. Remove the bottom one. Put it on top. Repeat. Sounds easy, right?"
He growled.
"WRONG!"
The crystal flared, showing a towering pile of wobbling stones.
"FOR 500 YEARS I repeat FIVE. HUNDRED. YEARS. I have lost every. Single. Time!"
He slammed his claw on the ground, shaking the tower outside and causing a group of hunter pigeons to fly away in panic.
"Every time I'm about to win, that scaly show-off does his little tail flick and BAM the tower collapses!"
A flashback played of Drakon laughing, tail wiggling as he strutted around Baelgor, shouting:
"BAE-L-GOR, THE LOSERRRRR!"
"Fifty-two thousand losses and counting, fatty!"
"Maybe if your claws weren't sausages, you could stack better!"
Baelgor screamed into a pillow made from troll fur.
"But yesterday… yesterday was different. I was CLOSE! So CLOSE! One more stone and I would've had him! The tower was steady, my claws were calm, my heart was pure..."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"And then... that wind-blowing hair model KYLE decides to crash the dungeon!"
He stood up and pointed dramatically to the heavens.
"I told him to go. Politely. I even offered him a free pass and a coupon for a phoenix roast sandwich. But nooo, mister shiny eyes had to challenge ME!"
Baelgor scoffed.
"Now his people are dead or traumatized, and I LOST the game because of him!"
He shook his fists to the heavens.
"STUPID HUMANS! Always biting more than they can chew then choking on it and blaming the meal!"
He grunted, slumping back into his throne.
Baelgor sat back on his throne, scratching his horn thoughtfully with one claw and sniffing with the pride of someone who could've killed a guy but chose not to just for the moral superiority points.
"I could have squashed that human warrior like a bug..." he said, voice echoing across the empty cave.
"I should have! He was annoying, loud, dramatic, and his hair defied gravity like it had a personal wind deity."
He grunted, crossing his arms.
"But no... something about that brat Kyle caught my attention."
His tone shifted from gruff to almost sentimental.
"He tapped into the ancient power... my power... the ancestral winds of the Primordial Beast race. It was like watching a baby cub stumble upon its roar for the first time. It was dare I say cute."
He wiped a nonexistent tear and stood, flaring his wings with unnecessary flair.
"So I spared his life... partly because of that ancient resonance... and partly because, well, I wanted to get back to my match with that smug flying sausage Drakon!"
His eyes flared with rage and renewed determination.
"That cursed dragon overlord must be humbled. Today, I rise again not as a dungeon boss... but as the rightful king of STONE STACK!"
"One day... I'll get out of here. I'll defeat the Architect. I'll win Stone Stack. And I'll find Kyle... not to fight him..."
His eyes narrowed.
"...But to force him to play the tower game with me until he too knows the taste of humiliation!"
BOOM!
Thunder cracked as Baelgor stomped out of his throne room, each step sending ripples through the dungeon. Skeletons clattered. Slimes fled. Somewhere, a low-rank mimic faked death just in case.
Moments later, in the Dragon Overlord's Chamber…
The chamber was vast, lined with golden hoards, lava streams, and piles of singed board games. And right in the center, Drakon lounged on a sofa made of sapphire bones, sipping molten tea through a ridiculously long straw.
"Well, well, well..." Drakon purred, not even turning to look.
"If it isn't Lord Loser."
Baelgor's eyes twitched.
"Drakon... today is the day I reclaim my dignity!"
The dragon lazily waved his tail, the same one that haunted Baelgor's dreams.
"You mean today's the day you add loss number fifty-two thousand and one?"
Baelgor roared. "I CHALLENGE YOU, l ONCE MORE to the Game of Stone Stack!"
The chamber darkened dramatically, lava flaring behind them as an ancient stone table rose from the ground, carved with glowing runes and instructions on how to play the stone stack
Drakon chuckled.
"You're on, buddy. But don't cry this time when the tower wobbles."
Baelgor narrowed his eyes.
"No wobble. No mercy. Today, I stack like a god!"