The monsters roared.
Yurian tightened his grip on the sword in his hand. Judging by the sounds alone, there were at least four or five groups of monsters lurking right nearby.
‘Even if I deal with the Ogres right away… Hellhounds? Sounds like fire-attribute monsters.’
He only had a single mana stone left. Even if he scraped together every last bit of mana, using a water-element freezing spell—which never suited him in the first place—would be difficult.
At best, 2-circle? Could something at that level even take down a Hellhound?
There were only two choices. Die here, or grit his teeth and dance with the blade.
Hoo.
After taking a deep breath, he channeled mana across the surface of his sword.
Good thing I learned swordsmanship early.
While everyone else had said becoming a high-circle mage was the fastest shortcut to turning your life around, he alone had dreamed of pulling a double shift with magic and the sword, grinding his blade skills in secret. At times like this, it paid off.
Magic was draining, and no matter how high-ranking a mage was, once their mana ran dry they were no different from an ordinary person.
No—in some ways, they were worse.
Most lacked the stamina to even run away, and plenty had ended up as monster feed because of it.
The only reason Yurian, a painfully average 5-circle mage, had survived this long was because of the swordsmanship he had honed back then.
An average 5-circle mage. An average sword user.
But if you knew how to use both at once, surviving even your third monster subjugation campaign was possible.
“But I guess this is where even that ends.”
Yurian swept his dry gaze across the battlefield.
Every comrade who had come with him was already dead. The corpses of monsters and humans strewn across the ground reeked of blood.
The 81st Monster Subjugation War had been a complete human defeat.
At least, the 1st Camp he belonged to had been annihilated.
They should never have come here in the first place.
Watching the Great Canyon would have been enough. Managing only the monsters that crossed over would have been enough.
But humans always had to let greed drive them into ruin.
What was the point of waging eighty-one extermination campaigns, crossing beyond the canyon into the monsters’ land, and shouting about “annihilation”?
In the end, all that waited was a dog’s death like this.
Yurian clicked his tongue and nudged aside the corpse of a fallen comrade with the tip of his boot.
He had been an orphan since childhood.
A mercenary. A drifter.
Ever since he’d learned magic and swordsmanship in the mercenary corps just to survive, he had never been particularly attached to life.
If I die, I die.
The fact he had made it this far with that mindset was practically a miracle.
No miracle was going to happen where the main force sent people to rescue Yurian from deep in enemy lines.
No one who wasn’t a complete idiot would risk dozens of lives to save one ordinary mercenary.
Then this truly was his grave.
This place—beneath the cries of flying monsters covering the sky, with the bodies of his comrades piled at his feet.
Yurian let out a dry laugh.
“Fucking hell.”
He lowered his body and burst forward, swinging his sword.
An Ogre hidden behind the terrain had its head sent flying in one clean strike.
Splattered with the green blood pattering down, Yurian twisted sharply.
A second Ogre on the opposite side roared and swung its club.
He ducked beneath the attack and slashed through its knee.
Crack.
With the sound of bone snapping, the monster collapsed to its knees.
Yurian drove his sword straight into the back of its skull.
There was another Ogre beside it.
And another.
Ten? No—fifteen.
Then he heard the distant sound of Hellhounds rushing toward the battle.
“Fucking hell. Seriously.”
There was no end.
Still, what else could he do?
Fight until the moment he died.
Even if it was a hopeless battle, as long as he still had the strength to swing his sword, he would keep fighting.
He could feel his mana draining away in long, relentless streams.
Along with it, his stamina, his strength, even his will were being carved away.
So this is how I die.
Drenched in filthy green blood.
Still, if he killed even one more monster here, wouldn’t that be a blessing for the subjugation forces still alive?
As his consciousness gradually blurred, Yurian clenched his teeth.
If even one person could be a little happier because of it, that was enough.
His hand still moved.
So he stopped thinking and swung his sword.
At that moment, the distant air rippled and warped.
The monsters all shrieked at once.
“KRAAAAGH!”
The Ogres attacking Yurian and the charging Hellhounds alike froze and stared toward it.
Wooooong—
The ground trembled violently.
As the monsters stumbled, screamed, and fled, Yurian saw it clearly.
A black hole, growing endlessly larger, swallowing the monsters whole.
“…What the hell is that?”
Magic?
But he couldn’t feel any mana movement.
The pitch-black hole simply kept expanding, casting a vast shadow.
The cries of the monsters consumed by the black space faded into silence.
Yurian instinctively stepped backward.
But the moment he turned to run, the black hole expanded in an instant.
Without even managing a proper scream, Yurian’s body was swallowed whole into the black curtain.
* * *
There had been many names for ‘that phenomenon.’
Anomaly. The End. Apocalypse. Armageddon.
The era of the First Dungeon Emergence began when black holes suddenly appeared and endless monsters poured out of them.
In the process of fighting those monsters, the world underwent a great cataclysm.
With the appearance of dungeons came awakened beings known as hunters, and soon the need arose for a system to manage them in an organized way.
Thus, the Hunter Management Bureau was established, and research into dungeons and gates began.
Humans were creatures of adaptation.
It took less than ten years for the world to grow used to the new reality of monsters and dungeons.
The entire world united to manage hunters and gates, and dungeon information was made public for everyone to see.
At first, this disclosure existed as a safety measure.
But ten years later, things were different.
People had come to place blind faith in hunters, and they loved the peace built on the sacrifices those hunters made.
The systematic management structure, which ensured dungeon breaks no longer occurred, also played a major role.
Wrapped in a sense of moderate safety and familiarity, system information had become entertainment.
People obsessed over which guild cleared what rank dungeon and how quickly, or what items had appeared in a newly opened dungeon.
Hunters who ranked highly even enjoyed worldwide celebrity.
In the global guild rankings released by the Hunter Management Bureau, three Korean guilds had made the list.
The first-generation hunter powerhouse Luminary Circle, the all-A-rank-and-above elite guild Moran, and Rapture Guild, home to the S-rank hunter brothers Gong Sijin and Gong Siyoung.
Among them, the highest-ranked was Rapture Guild.
And with that prestige came both immense popularity and immense responsibility.
The territory under Rapture’s management covered Seoul, Gyeonggi/Incheon, and nearly all of Chungcheong Province.
Not only did they have to respond to dozens of small-scale dungeons every day, but every B-rank dungeon and above had to be personally confirmed.
Today was no different.
At 4 a.m., an emergency summons rang out.
An A-rank dungeon had suddenly appeared in Incheon, and the first person called was Rapture’s core pillar—the S-rank hunter Gong Siyoung.
“That’s enough. Don’t call anyone else. I’ll go in alone.”
— Siyoung! At least bring one partner—
“I said it’s fine. They’d just get in the way anyway.”
When the worried nagging threatened to continue, Siyoung immediately ended the call without hesitation.
With time already tight, wait for someone else to arrive?
Doing something that annoying was worse than just entering alone.
As he strode forward without a shred of regret, he spotted a man standing at the gate entrance.
Dressed in Hunter Management Bureau uniform, the man rubbed his tired eyes.
The moment he noticed Gong Siyoung approaching, he startled and waved.
“Over here, over here! Hunter Gong Siyoung!”
The man hurried over, and Gong Siyoung gave him a slight nod.
Using the tablet in his hand, the official checked the entry time and personnel.
“April 6th, 4:21 a.m., entry into newly emerged A-rank dungeon, Hunter Gong Siyoung of Rapture Guild, and…”
The man dragged out the end of his sentence as he glanced behind Siyoung.
“And…?”
“I’m alone. Can I enter?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if I can enter.”
The flustered official hesitated.
No matter how S-rank he was, entering a dungeon alone?
Before he could even suggest waiting for someone else, Gong Siyoung moved first.
“Uh—! Wait, Hunter! Hunter Gong Siyoung!!”
Before anyone could stop him, Gong Siyoung stepped into the pitch-black gate.
Like entering water, an odd sensation washed over him, along with the feeling of gravity turning upside down.
When he opened his eyes, the now-familiar status window message appeared.
+
[System Notification]
▶ Entered [A-Rank Dungeon]
▶ Attribute: Flame / Sensory Impairment
▶ 11 hours until overflow
▶ Current Personnel: 2
+
“2…?”
He had definitely entered the dungeon alone.
A system error?
As Gong Siyoung stared at the personnel popup, a red warning window flashed before his eyes.
+
[Warning! Some sectors show signs of prior clearance.]
[(Unknown User) used skill ‘Unknown’.]
[Boss monster has died.]
[System Notification]
▶ [A-Rank Dungeon] Cleared
Time elapsed: 10 minutes 21 seconds
Reward: (Unknown User) acquires the title <The Chosen>. Increases allied attack power by 10% and health regeneration by 5%. This reward lasts for 30 minutes after entry.
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