They had descended and were immediately met with a vast field of grass. The dungeon stretched endlessly, its horizon swallowed by mist. Above, three moons with rings around them loomed, casting an ethereal glow that made the world feel alien, unreal.
Though it was marked as a tier 8 dungeon, Gabriel knew better. The mana density was wrong. The air itself hummed with power, far beyond what a low‑tier dungeon should hold.
"Lowell!" That had been the last thing Gabriel shouted before the world tore them apart.
Lowell found himself alone, his master's voice fading into silence. Wolves emerged from the shadows, their grey fur blending seamlessly with the grass. Unlike ordinary beasts, these creatures moved with uncanny coordination, circling him, probing for weaknesses.
Hours seemed to pass in a blur of running, slashing, and desperate survival. Lowell's chest heaved, his arms burned, and yet the wolves pressed on. It was then, between ragged breaths, that realization struck him.
This was no ordinary dungeon.
Anomaly dungeons. The rarest of all — rarer even than S‑rank. Two dungeons forcibly fused together, their cores locked in unnatural union. Such places ignored rank entirely, birthing monsters from E‑rank to S+ without warning.
Lowell's blood ran cold. No wonder the wolves are so intelligent… no wonder the mana feels so heavy.
He remembered the stories whispered among adventurers: anomaly dungeons that swallowed entire parties, never to return. No one knew what became of those who entered.
The thought of Gabriel alone in such a place made Lowell's stomach twist. I have to find him. No matter what.
"Slash!" His rented sword clashed against a wolf's teeth, sparks flying as steel ground against bone. The weapon was heavier than his old wooden blade, its grip rough from countless hands before him. Lowell staggered back, forcing himself to adjust to its weight as he leapt away.
Steeling himself, Lowell pressed forward into a vast chamber. Shadows writhed across the walls, and from the darkness, three giant wolves emerged. Their eyes glowed with malevolence, their size dwarfing him.
The largest wolf stepped forward, its fiery gaze locking onto him. Its growl reverberated through the chamber, shaking the ground beneath his feet.
Lowell raised his sword, but his hands trembled. If I fall here, I'll never see Master again.
The wolf lunged. Lowell barely deflected the strike, the shockwave numbing his arm. As he was pushed back the only thought letting him fight was that he had to live no matter what.
I can't waste this chance.
He moved with precision, positioning himself for a decisive strike. His blade cut through the first wolf, its howl echoing before silence claimed it.
The other two attacked with primal fury. Lowell dodged, parried, and struck, each movement fueled by his master's teachings. One wolf clamped onto his leg, teeth sinking deep. Pain flared, but Lowell ignored it, driving his sword into the beast's eye.
Blood sprayed, his vision blurred, but he fought on. With each swing, he remembered Gabriel's words: Every hardship will shape you.
Finally, the last wolf collapsed. Silence fell, broken only by Lowell's ragged breaths. His leg throbbed, his body screamed, but his resolve hardened. I must find him. I can't lose him here.
Meanwhile, Gabriel had sensed it the moment they entered. The mana fluctuation was unnatural, oppressive. He turned to warn Lowell, but the ground split beneath him.
"Lowell!" His cry echoed as he fell into a portal.
The descent felt endless. A crushing force pinned him, preventing movement. Then — water.
He plunged into an abyssal lake, the icy bite stealing his breath. His body went numb, his skin stung as though pierced by needles.
"Gasp!" He broke the surface, gasping, vision blurred. The water was black, endless, swallowing light.
Then it moved.
A serpentine shape coiled around his legs, dragging him down. Gabriel kicked, summoned mana, but the grip was unyielding. Pressure built as he sank deeper, lungs burning, chest tightening.
Through the murk, he saw it.
Not a snake. A dragon.
Its body stretched into the abyss, scales glistening faintly in the dark. Its eyes glowed with abyssal light, jaws opening to reveal rows of teeth that could shatter steel.
Gabriel's heart pounded violently, his chest tightening with a fear so raw it nearly paralyzed him. His breath caught, his mind screamed at him to flee, yet there was nowhere to run. The sheer enormity of the creature, its ancient malice radiating through the water, made him feel impossibly small — a fragile human before a god of destruction.
A dragon… in a tier 8 dungeon? Impossible. His thoughts trembled as much as his body. This truly is an anomaly.e creature dragged him deeper, the crushing weight of the water threatening to tear him apart. His mana flared, a burst of energy striking its head. The dragon recoiled, but its grip tightened.
The creature dragged him deeper, the crushing weight of the water threatening to tear him apart. His mana flared, a burst of energy striking its head. The dragon recoiled, but its grip tightened.
Desperation consumed him. He gathered every ounce of strength, channeling his magic into a blinding explosion. Light erupted, the abyss trembling.
The dragon's grip loosened. Gabriel broke free, lungs screaming for air. He clawed his way upward, breaking the surface with a gasp.
The dragon was gone, but the water still churned ominously. His body was battered, bruised, his mana nearly depleted. He swam toward a distant shore, each stroke agony, each breath a battle.
As he dragged himself onto the rocks, soaked and trembling, realization struck him.
This dungeon… it's alive. It wants us separated. It wants us broken.
Gabriel clenched his fists, forcing himself upright. His pale eyes burned with resolve, even as fear still lingered in his chest like ice. Lowell is somewhere in this nightmare. I will find him.
Gabriel found himself floating on the surface of the water, gasping for breath. His limbs ached, his body battered and bruised from the encounter. The dragon was gone—for now—but the pain lingered like a brand. The water around him shimmered faintly, rippling with residual magic. Space itself felt… off. Warped.
With the last of his strength, he swam toward the distant shore, each stroke heavier than the last, as if the world resisted his presence.
But his respite was brief.
As he dragged himself onto the jagged rocks, coughing and shivering, a massive shadow stirred beneath the surface. The water trembled. Then, with a roar that split the cavern like thunder, the abyssal dragon rose again—its eyes glowing with malevolent light, its wings unfurling like the night sky itself.
Gabriel barely had time to react. The dragon lunged, jaws snapping shut where he had been just moments before. He rolled aside, heart pounding, lungs burning. The battle resumed with brutal intensity—magic clashing against scale, will against might.
Time lost meaning. Minutes bled into hours. Gabriel fought with everything he had, but the dragon was relentless. Every blow he landed was answered with tenfold fury. His strength waned. His vision blurred. His body screamed for rest.
And still, the dragon did not kill him.
Its attacks were precise, devastating—but not fatal. It was toying with him. Testing him. Savoring his struggle.
Gabriel's knees buckled. He summoned the last flickers of his magic, but something inside him shifted. The air around him fractured—like glass under pressure. Light bent. Sound warped. The space between him and the dragon rippled unnaturally.
He didn't cast a spell. He tore a line through the air.
A thin, shimmering rift opened before him—silent, razor-sharp. It lashed out like a blade, slicing across the dragon's flank. The beast roared, more in surprise than pain, as the wound didn't bleed—it vanished.
Gabriel staggered, stunned by what he'd done. The world around him felt unstable, like it was holding its breath.
The dragon's eyes narrowed. It growled low, circling him now with a new wariness. "So… you've begun to awaken," it rumbled.
Gabriel didn't understand. His body trembled, his thoughts scattered. The dragon lunged again, and instinct took over. He stepped—not forward, but through. The space between where he stood and where he needed to be folded, and he emerged behind the dragon in a blink.
But the effort cost him. His body screamed in protest. Blood dripped from his nose. The Rift demanded more than he could give.
The dragon swatted him aside with a mighty blow, sending him crashing into the cavern wall. Pain exploded through his ribs, his breath knocked from his lungs.
He lay there, broken and trembling, as the dragon loomed over him.
Its eyes bore into his soul—ancient, intelligent, and utterly cold.
"Foolish human," the dragon rumbled, its voice like grinding stone. "Did you truly believe you could defeat me?"
Gabriel gasped, blood on his lips. He tried to speak, but no words came.
"You are but a speck," the dragon continued. "Insignificant. Weak. Your struggle is futile."
Gabriel's fingers curled into the stone beneath him. Desperation flared into defiance. "I... will not... give up," he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling.
The dragon's eyes narrowed. A low growl rumbled from its chest. "Then perish."
It raised a massive claw, the air crackling with power.
Gabriel's mind raced. This was it. His final moment. He closed his eyes—and the Rift answered.
A blinding surge of spatial energy erupted from him, the cavern bathed in searing light. The force shook the foundations of the dungeon. The dragon roared, a sound of fury and pain that echoed through the stone.
When the light faded, Gabriel lay motionless. The dragon, too, was weakened—its form flickering, unstable.
Gabriel's eyes fluttered open. He had given everything. And it still wasn't enough.
The dragon's voice returned, quieter now, but laced with cruel amusement. "You cannot defeat me. I have enjoyed this little game. But now… accept your fate."
Its form shimmered, shrinking, twisting. Scales gave way to pale skin. Wings folded into a flowing cloak. The beast became a man—tall, barefoot, cloaked in shadow. His eyes still glowed with that same eerie light, but now they held something deeper: wisdom, detachment, judgment.
Gabriel stared, barely able to lift his head. "Who... who are you?"
The figure regarded him with calm indifference. "I am the guardian of this realm," he said, voice smooth and resonant. "I am neither friend nor foe. I protect what must be protected."
Gabriel's mind reeled. "Why didn't you kill me?"
The guardian's gaze sharpened. "Because I am not your enemy. You showed resolve. And you carry the Rift. That alone makes you dangerous."
Gabriel's voice cracked. "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," the figure said. "Leave this place. Your journey is far from over."
He turned, vanishing into the shadows.
Gabriel forced himself to his knees. "Wait!" he called out, voice raw. "How did you know what I was looking for?"
The guardian's voice echoed from the darkness.
"If you return, you will face my wrath again."
And then—silence.
Gabriel was alone.
The cavern pressed in around him, vast and empty. The water stilled. The echoes faded.
"An outsider," he whispered to himself.
The word stung. But it did not break him.
He pushed himself to his feet, unsteady but unyielding. The pain was still there. The doubt. The fear. But so was the Rift.
And he would not let it die.