Chapter 29
Title: First This..
"Team Two, with me," I commanded. "You've got the highest score so far—27 points. Let's see if you can back it up."
They responded with nods of steel and followed. Juno was the first to step through the gate, followed by Lisa, Varek, and the other two captains on their squad. I entered last.
We emerged into a city swallowed by crimson. The sky above bled shades of red, the streets were lined with broken cobblestone, and the buildings—boarded, abandoned—leaned like crooked teeth in a corpse's jaw. An eerie chill clung to the air, unnatural, the kind that makes your skin crawl as if something is slithering just beneath the surface.
Something wasn't right.
Weird.
I've studied this gate on paper, but this is my first time stepping into it.
"Keep in mind this is no ordinary (B) rank dungeon, it's a (B) plus. So be on your toes!" I said as one last thing before I let them do their own thing.
I leapt onto the rooftop of a half-collapsed tavern to observe from above. The wind up here howled like something mourning. I could feel it—pressure, thick and malignant, rising beneath the ground like rot ready to burst.
Varek immediately took charge. "Formation. South-facing. Something's coming."
Good. He's sharp. Adaptable.
They formed up tight: Juno at the front, axes gripped in iron fists. Varek and another captain flanked the middle, while Lisa and James—the secondary mage—held the rear.
Smart. Juno might be a berserker, not a traditional tank, but his HP pool makes him the perfect shield in a pinch. Mages each guarded by fighters. No weak points exposed.
Then the ground trembled.
ROOOAAAARRR!
A wave of Hollowfiends poured from the distant alleyways—close to a hundred. Skin stretched tight over corpselike frames, eyes empty of everything but hunger. These weren't just demons—they were soul-thieves. Hollowfiends. They didn't kill with claws—they stripped you of everything that made you you. Emotions, memories, identity. You could walk away from them physically intact… but never whole.
"Lisa, barrier! Juno, hold the front! James, start casting Flame Tornado! Bill and I have the rear!"
Varek's voice cut clean through the tension. Flawless. Focused. These weren't trainees anymore.
I rested my hand on my sheathed mana sword but didn't draw it. I don't think I'm gonna need it but just in case I'll stay ready.
Juno spun like a cyclone, his twin axes carving the first wave into mist. A few broke through, but Varek and Bill struck them down mid-leap. Arrows shrieked from the back of the horde—harmless. Lisa's barrier shimmered like glass just before impact. Not even a crack.
Then came the eruption. James completed the spell.
FWOOOSH.
A tornado of fire exploded from his staff, swallowing Hollowfiends like dry leaves in a furnace.
In sixty seconds, the field was scorched black. The survivors—maybe a dozen—were finished off by Juno and Varek like wolves swatting down rats.
I smiled.
Good. Very good!
They're ready for higher-tier gates. Maybe even S-rank.
They pressed forward. The city grew quieter, heavier. Weeds cracked through the stones beneath their boots. They stopped in place.
"Is that a church…?" I muttered under my breath, still crouched on the rooftop above, eyes locked on the structure ahead.
"A cathedral?" Varek said almost to himself.
"Eyes up," Varek said, voice low. "The floor general's nearby."
"No way it's already over," Juno muttered. "That was too easy."
Lisa sighed. "And now we're doomed. Great. You jinxed us again, you idiot."
I chuckled quietly from the rooftop.
They weren't just stronger. They were bonded. Soldiers. Brothers and sisters forged in fire.
But this wasn't any ordinary chapel.
The cathedral towered at the end of the cracked road like a tombstone for the dead. Its stained-glass windows were shattered, twisted mockeries of once-holy images now stained with rot and soot. The stonework was scorched black in places, and what stood out most
—were the two burning piles of bodies stacked neatly on either side of the massive doors.
They weren't smoldering like battle remains. No, these were ritualistic. Intentional. Sacrificial.
And Varek's team was heading straight toward it.
The fire's light danced across their armor, casting distorted shadows along the walls as they approached. Every step closer was like a drumbeat before a funeral. None of them spoke. Even Juno, who always had some dumb comment, was quiet.
I narrowed my eyes.
Something was wrong. Deeper than usual. The air didn't just smell like death—it felt hollow. Like it had been drained of spirit, like the world here was waiting… holding its breath.
I stood still, mana humming softly beneath my skin, ready to step in at the first wrong move.
Then Varek paused just before the threshold. His eyes scanned the piles. One twitch of his fingers. Instinct.
"Everyone," he said, calm but sharp. "Be ready."
Then, without warning—
The flames moved.
No… not the fire. The bodies.
Limbs cracked into unnatural positions. Heads jerked. The corpses began to unstack themselves, rising one by one from the burning piles like puppets pulled by unseen hands. Flames still clung to them like cloaks, flickering green and red as they snapped into perfect formation—rows and columns like a ceremonial guard.
A voice spoke out amongst them.
From somewhere deep inside the back of the formation, a voice barked:
"DAK DEHMURDAH."
Low. Guttural. Commanding.
My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword.
"FORMATION!" Varek bellowed.
The corpse piles twitched.
Two lines of ten broke rank and charged. Juno met the first with a thunderous quake of his axes, sending bodies flying. James cleaved the second with a blade of compressed wind.
I narrowed my eyes, scanning for the source.
There.
A name flickered above one demon's head, green flames licking across its flesh like oil on water.
'Voice of the Hollows' — (A) Rank.
"BE ADVISED!" I called from the rooftop. "Named demon, A-rank!"
They all glanced up, blinking as if they'd forgotten I was even there.
"Ah—yes, Commander. Understood." Varek shook himself back into the moment.
The enemy adjusted formation, fanning out into a wide U-shape.
The Voice raised both arms to the heavens and screamed:
"TA– TUK– TEEEEEE!"
Then lowered them pointing his hands at Varek's party.
The corpses charge them falling out of formation one by one.
The swarm hit like a black tide. Juno did what he could—his axes carved dozens down—but it wasn't enough. The formation curved, closed, began to swallow them whole.
They should be able to handle at least this much.
VWRRRMMMMMM!
A beam of green light shot skyward and exploded, scattering glowing flakes across the battlefield like falling embers.
I looked down. Lisa and James stood in the middle of the formation—shoulders touching, casting in tandem.
A mass area heal.
The wounds vanished. The fatigue drained. New life sparked in their eyes.
Juno roared and exploded forward like a cannon shot through fog, carving a path toward the Voice.
"NOW!" Varek shouted.
James launched a fireball, expanding Juno's path. Lisa reinforced him with a physical barrier. Juno brought his axes up across his chest, blades gleaming, and sprinted for the kill.
"MOVE!" Varek ordered the others, covering the rear.
The Voice screamed back and charged. Just before they collided, Juno flipped backward—activating Berserk—and unleashed a flurry of slashes, driving the enemies behind them back. Bill stepped in next, meeting the demon's charge with a calculated blow that did little damage.
Then Lisa cast a blinding flash of light.
And through that light—
Varek came.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
He pierced the Voice through the skull. One clean thrust.
It dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
The others surged forward after the light spell was cast, putting full faith in Varek and never even looking over their shoulders once, they cleaned up the left over scraps without instruction.
I exhaled slowly. Impressed.
This… This was perfection.
He knew. Varek knew. He saw the enemy's intent, built a formation around it, predicted the path of chaos. He didn't call out a single detail beyond "formation" and "now," and yet every member of his team moved as though he'd scripted the battle in advance.
That was leadership. That was instinct. That was war.
He hasn't even looked back since he landed the kill. He knows it's done.
If he were just a little stronger, I'd have him challenge Thomas for Sentinel. But Thomas has grown… twisted. Three weeks of killing demons has done more than sharpen him—it's reshaped him. He's becoming the thing he fights. A demon in human skin.
And Lisa? Incredible. A true S-rank healer. No party member dropped below 80% HP during an entire B+ rank gate.
No. This wasn't a waste of time.
This was the beginning.