Miss Donna trailed silently behind the formation, her hands folded loosely behind her back. True to her word, she acted purely as an observer—her cool, calculating gaze sweeping over the students, but her lips sealed.
Up at the front of the line, the silence was suffocating. Arthur and Christoffer walked shoulder-to-shoulder toward the rift, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a blade.
"You picked me for point just so you could feel good about yourself, didn't you?" Christoffer snapped under his breath, glaring straight ahead. "Dragging me up here like some trophy to show off?"
Arthur didn't even turn his head, though a faint, effortless smile touched his lips.
"You really think that highly of yourself, Vance?" Arthur replied calmly, his voice smooth and untroubled. "I don't waste time looking for petty revenge on a underling. I put you on point because, despite your terrible attitude, you happen to be the second highest-ranked fighter in this group. Personal feelings don't matter in a Gate, survival does."
Christoffer opened his mouth to spit back a rebuttal, but the words died in his throat as they turned the final corner.
"Your Direwolf is a Silver-tier beast," Arthur noted, keeping his eyes on the darkness ahead. "And my vanguard is a..."
He cut himself off, closing his mouth before the words slipped out.
Christoffer snapped his head toward him, his brow furrowing instantly. "Your summon is a what?"
"Forget it," Arthur said, adjusting his vest without breaking stride.
"No way, dude," Christoffer pressed, taking a half-step ahead to try and catch Arthur's reaction. "You were just about to spill your summon's actual rank, weren't you?"
"No," Arthur replied calmly.
"Yes, you were!" Christoffer said, a gleam of desperate curiosity sparkling in his eyes. "You actually know its true tier, don't you? You've been hiding it this whole time."
Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned his head, casting a cool, unbothered glance back at the dude.
"Is this supposed to be your 'gotcha' moment, Vance?" Arthur asked smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "Because if you spent half as much energy focusing on the dungeon ahead of us as you do trying to decode my summon, you might actually hold onto that number-five spot."
Christoffer's face flushed red, the words catching in his throat as the rest of the squad caught up behind them.
"You guys see that?" Naomi Park whispered, pointing a trembling finger toward the shadow of a massive concrete pylon just twenty yards from the swirling green rift.
Lying amidst the scattered gravel was a bleached white carcass.
"What the hell is that?" Chloe Bennett asked, her voice tight as she gripped the hilt of her sidearm.
Miss Donna caught up to the rear of the squad, letting out a low, appreciative whistle as her eyes fell on the remains.
The students instantly whipped their heads around to look at her, practically begging for a hint.
Miss Donna simply folded her arms across her chest, offering a cool, enigmatic smirk. "Don't look at me, squad. You're the ones on point. Figure it out on your own."
Arthur broke away from the group, stepping cautiously toward the remains. He knelt beside the bleached frame, his eyes scanning the skeletal geometry. The creature had been massive, easily the size of a full-grown Bengal tiger, but the elongated spine, deep chest cavity, and digitigrade leg structures were unmistakably canine.
"Judging by the bone density and the hyper-elongated sagittal crest on the skull," Arthur said, tracing his gloved fingers an inch above the bone, "this was definitely a wolf-type apex beast. Specifically... a Gloom-Fang Stalker."
Christoffer's jaw twitched, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How do you know that just from looking at old bones?"
"Look at the jawline," Arthur replied smoothly, pointing out the jagged, razor-like premolars and the signature dual-socket canine root. "Notice the slight greenish hue calcified along the ribs? That's mana rot from living in a Green Gate environment. Gloom-Fang Stalkers are baseline alpha predators in Iron-tier dungeons. They hunt in packs, use shadowed terrain to mask their mana signatures, and pick off stragglers."
Arthur stood back up, dusting off his gloves as he looked out toward the dark.
"Stalkers are apex pack predators," Arthur said, his voice carrying clearly through the cavern. "Which means whatever killed this thing and stripped it to the bone might still be roaming these tunnels."
Alexa Vance stepped forward, her brow furrowed as she looked from the skeleton to the shadowy depths ahead. "You mean there's a threat in here far worse than a Gloom-Fang... whatever?"
"Extremely likely," Arthur said, turning back to face the squad. "Baseline Gloom-Fang Stalkers usually carry a fortitude rating between 1.5 and 3.5, placing them right on the border between Iron and Bronze tier. For something to tear one apart this cleanly, its killer is either sitting comfortably in the upper Bronze tier... or it swarmed this thing in numbers we really don't want to mess with."
He paused, scanning the faces of his squad.
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the team. Color drained from Chloe's face, Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his tactical gear, and even Christoffer's mouth had pressed into a tight, nervous line. The excitement of entering their first dungeon had instantly evaporated, replaced by the grim reality that the walls around them held real, lethal danger.
Arthur let out a quiet breath, stepping into the center of the tense circle to anchor his team.
"Hey. Eyes on me," Arthur commanded, his tone dropping into a steady, unshakeable register. "We knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Keep your formations tight, watch your mana reserves, and don't panic. As long as we stick to the plan and cover each other's blind spots, we walk out of here in one piece."
He sounded confident enough to steady the group, but internally, his mind was racing. Honestly? The math here is atrocious.
Aside from himself, Christoffer, and Alexa, every other student in this squad was sitting squarely at Iron tier. Put them up against a single low-ranking Gloom-Fang Stalker, and they'd be fighting for their lives through sheer attrition. If a whole pack of those things had been slaughtered in their own territory, whatever did it was going to tear through these kids like paper.
Christoffer let out a harsh, bitter breath, adjusting his weapon grip. "Being a tactical nerd actually pays off sometimes, huh? Fine. Let's just keep moving."
They pushed deeper into the damp, echoing darkness of the tunnel, their tactical lights cutting thin beams through the heavy mist.
Ten yards later, they hit another carcass.
Then a third. Then a fourth. Bleached bones and shredded hides littered the stone floor like a grim trail of breadcrumbs.
"Is it just me," Reed muttered, his voice cracking slightly, "or was an entire pack wiped out right here?"
"Look at the bones..." Naomi whispered, her flashlight beam trembling. "Some of these are missing limbs. That one over there....its skull was completely crushed from the top down."
Panic began to ripple through the line like a rising tide.
"Hey. Maintain discipline," Arthur barked over his shoulder. "Keep your eyes up and your guards....."
"How the hell can you tell us to stay cool, Arthur?!" Reed snapped back, his knuckles turning white around his weapon. "Look at this place! Whatever did this....."
"Shut up," Arthur hissed, snapping his hand up.
Reed blinked, his face flushing with sudden anger. "What did you just...." Visit g.com for the full chapter.
"Shh. Quiet!" Arthur cut him off, dropping into a low, defensive stance.
Everyone froze in their tracks. Even Miss Donna, who had been strolling casually a few paces behind, halted mid-step, her sharp eyes narrowing as her posture subtly shifted into a combat-ready stance.
A suffocating silence descended on the cavern, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing.
Then came the sound.
It started as a faint, vibration in the rock beneath their boots, a low rhythmic drone that echoed off the stone walls. It grew louder by the second, morphing into a harsh, high-pitched buzzing that vibrated right through their teeth.
"What is that...?" Chloe whimpered, shrinking back behind Marcus. "Are those... bees?"
The heavy, rhythmic drone grew louder by the second, vibrating through the stone floor and rattling the metal plates of their combat gear.
"Tsk... those aren't ordinary bees," Alexa spat, her eyes locking onto the pitch-black corridor ahead. "They're Vesper Dread-Hornets!"
"Everyone, prepare for combat!" Arthur barked, his voice ringing across the cavern with crisp, absolute command. "Defensive perimeter! Tanks up front, ranged units cover the rear!"
Instantly, the squad began channeling their mana, the dark tunnel lighting up with a chaotic array of summoning circles.
Christoffer was the first to act. A harsh, silver light erupted at his feet, and with a guttural growl, his Armored Dire Wolf materialized, a massive, iron-furred beast standing six feet tall, its chest encased in natural bone plate armor.
Beside him, Alexa’s shadow elongated and tore open, giving birth to her Umbralon, a fluid, panther-like creature made of shifting mist and razor-sharp shadow-claws.
Behind them, the rest of the squad hastily called forth their own lesser guardians:
Chloe summoned a Stone-Hide Badger, a heavy, low-slung creature encased in thick granite scales built to absorb impact.
Marcus called upon a Gloom-Gargoyle, a squat, winged stone construct with glowing red eyes that settled heavily in front of the line.
Damon brought out an Iron-Claw Raptor, a bird of prey the size of a hound with talons made of polished steel.
Kenneth Reed manifested a Grave-Moss Treant, a twisted, six-foot wooden husk wrapped in glowing green vines.
Finally, Arthur stepped to the very apex of the formation. He raised his hand, the air around him twisting as a brilliant, blinding radiance washed over the dark cavern.
"Come forth, Lady Arne," Arthur called out.
The golden brilliance condensed, resolving into the towering, breathtaking figure of the holy knight. Clad in radiant, pristine gilded plate armor, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, the golden paladin manifested with effortless majesty.
"At your service, my liege," Arne purred, lowering her head in a graceful bow. As she raised her gaze back to Arthur, a playful, dangerously wicked smirk touched her lips, a silent, sultry promise that she’d be demanding her usual... intimate payment once the blood was spilled.
Arthur cleared his throat, forcing his mind back to the battle at hand. Not the time, Arne.
Before anyone could speak, the darkness at the end of the tunnel came alive.
First came a single pair of glowing, compound yellow eyes hovering in the air. Then a second pair. Then a dozen. Within seconds, the pitch-black corridor was choked with hundreds of luminescent yellow eyes surging forward like a tide of living embers, driven by a deafening, metallic roar of thousands of beating wings.