In the tranquil foothills of a rugged mountain range on the eleventh floor of the Hundredfold Haven lay the serene village of Dunverholm. More than just a settlement, Dunverholm manifested the enduring harmony between the hill dwarves and the land they called home, a bond forged over generations.

Amidst the undulating green hills and meandering streams, Dunverholm stood as an oasis of peace and natural splendor. At its heart lay the Stout Oak, a majestic arboreal giant that commanded reverence from all who beheld it. Its gnarled branches sprawled wide, casting a comforting shadow over the central square where villagers gathered for communal gatherings, trade, and festivities.

The architecture of Dunverholm mirrored the resilience and craftsmanship of its inhabitants. Homes, crafted from local stone and timber, melded artfully into the gentle slopes of the hills, their sturdy walls blending harmoniously with the natural contours of the land. Winding cobblestone streets crisscrossed the village, passing shops with intricate carvings and vibrant displays of craftsmanship from skilled dwarven artisans. The air carried a medley of scents: the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the bakery, the earthy fragrance of herbs hung in front of apothecaries, and the comforting scent of wood smoke billowed from chimneys that ascended gracefully into the clear sky.

Beyond the village limits, terraced fields and orchards sprawled across the landscape in meticulously tended rows. Golden barley fields stretched toward the sunlight, their yields destined for the brewing vats that produced Dunverholm’s renowned ales. Nearby, patches of potatoes thrived alongside flourishing apple orchards, their boughs heavy with ripening fruit that promised sustenance and delight. Amidst the toil of cultivation, the air resounded with the joyous cadence of laughter and song as families worked in unison to nurture the land that sustained them.

Despite the peacefulness of Dunverholm, a subtle undercurrent of vigilance pervaded the air. Along the village’s periphery, watchtowers stood tall, their stout walls manned by vigilant guards who maintained a steadfast watch over the surrounding countryside. For the realms from the eleventh to the twentieth were home to the Akai lizardman race, a perpetual reminder of the need for vigilance and preparedness in this idyllic haven.

As the sun began its ascent over the mountains, casting a golden hue upon the village, a window on the second floor of a modest two-story building swung open, and I emerged. Stretching my arms wide, I welcomed the morning with a deep breath and a smile that reached from ear to ear.

My name is Akira Sakamoto, an Aoi player ensnared in the tutorial phase of the reality game known as the Fortress of the Fallen.

For ten excruciatingly long years, I endured a staggering total of eighty-one resurrections. The game’s tutorial ensnared me in a relentless cycle, plagued by a persistent glitch that barred my escape to the staging area where other Aoi players were supposed to start the live game together. Inside the tower, time seemed to lose its meaning, trapping me in suspended existence where each resurrection reinforced my solitary plight.

Despite the endless loop, I clung to unwavering hope that a valiant defeat would finally trigger the system to recognize its malfunction and liberate me from the confining constraints of the tutorial phase.

It had been almost three years since I vanquished Kragg, the fearsome Goblin King, and his two sexy... let’s refer to them as bodyguards for now. The quest had exacted a heavy toll, costing me five precious life tokens to emerge triumphant from that perilous battle. The persistent intervention of Krag’s loyal bodyguards, Mirella and Nirella, significantly prolonged the struggle; their cunning tactics and unswerving loyalty to their king tested my resolve at every turn, delaying what could have otherwise been a swifter victory.

It was a heart-wrenching moment to witness those two ladies explode under the assault of my hiishi. The loss was made even more poignant by the realization that I would never see them again. After successfully clearing the tenth floor, it mysteriously vanished from the tower’s floor list. Oddly, it didn’t reappear even when my life was reset upon reaching the eleventh floor, where I fell victim to a sudden ambush by a horde of Drakelings—youthful lizardmen known for their role as scouts in their society. The absence of the tenth floor from the game was indeed strange. However, all was not lost. On the eleventh floor, I encountered my first Midori: the dwarves.

While wandering, I unexpectedly came across a dwarf child fleeing from a Saurian—a lizardman of humanoid form, distinguished by scaly skin, sharp claws, and a lengthy tail. Acting swiftly, I intervened and rescued the young dwarf from harm’s way. Grateful and eager to repay my kindness, the child guided me to Dunverholm. Little did I know, this chance encounter marked the beginning of a profound connection with the dwarven community, setting the stage for meaningful relationships to unfold.

Two years had passed since that fateful encounter. During my time in Dunverholm, I delved deep into the vast repository of knowledge that the dwarves possessed about the myriad Midori races inhabiting the tower. Their insights into the intricate dynamics and relationships between these races and Aoi players, particularly regarding prestige, proved to be profoundly enlightening.

Among the Midori races, apart from the human variant which remained inaccessible during the tutorial phase, eight other distinct groups existed: Dwarves, Elves, Halflings, Fairies, Centaurs, Gnomes, Gremlins, and Dryads. Each race brought its own unique characteristics and strengths to the diverse inhabitants of the tower.

The dwarves, stalwart and industrious, shared their craftsmanship and expertise in mining and forging. The elegant elves possessed deep knowledge of magic and the natural world, their connection to the forest realms lending them an air of mystique. Halflings, known for their jovial nature and skill in agriculture, often thrived, even in the most unexpected corners of the tower. Fairies, with their ethereal beauty and affinity for nature, wove intricate spells and maintained balance within their domains.

Centaurs, proud and honorable, excelled in combat and horsemanship, serving as both warriors and guardians. Gnomes, with their keen intellect and knack for invention, contributed to technological advancements and ingenious contraptions throughout the tower. Mischievous gremlins, while sometimes unpredictable, possessed an innate talent for running businesses and turning chaotic situations into profitable ventures. Finally, the enigmatic dryads, guardians of the ancient forests, wielded powerful nature magic and harbored deep wisdom about the land.

My reverie was suddenly interrupted by chattering and giggling. Peering down from the window of the house I had rented, I spotted three young dwarf women strolling leisurely along a narrow cobblestone street.

These three ladies, Thrainna, Durrina, and Brundis, like all dwarf women, wore dresses fashioned from durable fabrics such as wool or linen. Their dresses featured necklines that revealed a hint of cleavage, while the skirts were full to allow for ease of movement. Despite the ample display of their bosoms, the overall style of their attire remained tasteful and respectful, reflecting their race’s norms and customs.

And that was why I loved waking up at this hour and looking out the window—a routine I had adhered to since moving to this village. From my vantage point, I could enjoy a bird’s-eye view of their... ahem, firm assets. Aside from the goblin vixens, I believed the dwarf girls were the next best thing for a human teenage boy like me—well, to be precise, a twenty-eight-year-old in Earth years—to relish in fantasies about relationships with other races; females, mostly.

“Hi, girls. Are any of you planning to attend the festival at Hillstone later this evening?” I asked. Given the proximity of two hill dwarf villages within a twenty-mile radius of each other, the festival was likely a popular event.

“Probably not, Kira-kun,” Thrainna replied, followed by Brundis. “We have other plans for tonight.” The three girls giggled, exchanging knowing glances with me.

“What plans?” I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

“It’s a secret,” Durrina replied, and they all laughed before bidding me farewell.

“These girls,” I grinned, shaking my head in amusement. There was no secret they could hide from me; I had a good idea of what they were up to later in the night. I closed the window and began preparing my breakfast before heading to my daily routine.