The Rift was labeled Tier 5 — but it felt like a trap.
Jaemin stood amidst a chaos that defied classification. Rifthounds, Vulpus, even Striders — creatures that normally wouldn't appear until Tier 4 — prowled the terrain in hordes. The air stank of sulfur and blood, the growls of Abyssals weaving into a low, ceaseless chorus.
It didn't make sense. The tier hadn't shifted. The system hadn't warned of a breach with unusual mist. And yet, the enemy came like a tide.
Jaemin didn't flinch. He welcomed it.
Blade in hand, he lunged into the swarm. His feet moved faster than a Velocity Coreborn's. His strikes were too sharp, too deliberate — each slash cleaved clean through armor, flesh, and bone. When they struck him back, he staggered, bled, but never stopped — pushing forward with a tenacity akin to Bastion.
It was unreal. He knew it.
None of this made sense. He shouldn't be this fast. He shouldn't be this strong. Every second his body should've buckled — and yet it didn't.
And still... he didn't care.
This wasn't about logic. It was about instinct. And instinct screamed: Move forward. Cut. Burn through them all.
The field steamed with the heat of carnage. Dozens of Striders lay broken and mangled. Vulpus twitching in pools of acid blood. Rifthounds still twitched in death, jaws frozen mid-snarl.
Jaemin stood at the center, panting, shirt soaked through, limbs trembling. But his eyes burned with something deeper.
Whatever this was — whatever he was becoming — it would be tested here.
And he would welcome the next wave with open arms.
He moved forward, eyes locked ahead.
There it was — the Overseer.
Towering. Armored. Familiar.
He'd killed one before. He would kill again. No matter how many, he'd keep going.Because he had to.
Because he wanted to. To grow stronger. To climb higher. To survive.
Jaemin surged ahead at breakneck speed, boots skimming across cracked stone. As he neared, he leapt — body twisting upside down mid-air, spinning with calculated precision. His blade shimmered, flaring with power that surged from within, and with a sharp arc, he severed the crown clean from the Overseer's head — tearing off its armor in one vicious strike.
The creature screeched.
A slender tail whipped upward — fast.
But Jaemin was faster.
Instead of dodging, he twisted and brought his blade down mid-fall, cleaving the tail in half before landing.
No hesitation. No wasted movement. He burst forward again and leapt high, stabbing the blade directly into the Overseer's skull, driving it deep until the beast twitched and collapsed.
A breath.
Only a second.
WHAM!
He jumped instinctively — barely avoiding the lashing strike from behind. Eyes wide.
"...Another one?!"
That wasn't possible. There was supposed to be one Overseer. One.
But this wasn't normal.
From the edges of the Rift's shadows... more were crawling forward.
Two... four... ten...
Twenty.
All of them Overseers. All armored. All ready.
Jaemin's throat went dry — but his grip didn't waver.
This was trouble. Serious trouble.
He bolted toward a cracked pillar, ran up its side and launched into the air, gaining a moment of pseudo-flight with his momentum.
He raised his blade skyward.
"Precision Core: Bolstering Swords Throw!!"
Energy crackled.
Dozens of radiant blades formed around him — hovering like arrows pulled back in a divine bowstring. They spun, locked on target, and launched, aiming directly at the Overseers' crowns.
Crash!
Slice!
Shatter!
Five of them fell. Their crowns broken. Vulnerable.
Jaemin didn't miss a beat. He hit the ground sprinting, tore through the five in a blur — cutting each at the nape, finishing them before they could recover.
But the rest were coming.
WHIP!
He didn't hear it — he felt it. A sharp blur of motion through the air.
He dodged one.
Another missed.
But The third?
Crack—!
A tail slammed into his side — hard — sending him flying.
BOOM!
His body crashed into a stone wall with a thunderous boom. The impact shattered it on contact, debris raining down as he hit the ground hard, groaning.
His vision blurred. Blood in his mouth.
But even then—
He didn't stop.
He staggered to his feet, coughing dust from his lungs.
His clothes were torn, blood dripping from his forehead, but his eyes — his eyes burned brighter than ever.
With a slow breath, Jaemin raised his sword.
Flames surged.
His aura ignited like a wild orange inferno, licking the edges of his frame with untamed fury. His blade vibrated, cracking under the pressure — unable to contain the raw, overloaded energy surging through it.
"Cover your ears, assholes."
He said without a tone.
And then — he hurled it.
A full-bodied throw. Veins bulged, muscles screamed, but the weapon tore through the air like a meteor.
He wasn't aiming for an Overseer.
He was aiming at the ground beneath them.
BOOM.
KABOOOOOOOM!!!
The Rift shook.
A massive shockwave erupted, a crater forming instantly as the impact tore through stone and Abyssals alike. The explosion wasn't just sound — it was pressure, force, and pure concentrated aura. Several Overseers were blown back, others shredded by the energy rippling outward.
Jaemin stood at the edge, panting.
Sweat dripped from his jawline. His hands trembled slightly from the recoil.
But it worked.
"In that last Rift... when my blade shattered against the Overseer's armor... it pulsed. Like it couldn't handle the power inside. So this time, I gave it even more, more than it could handle. If a pulse can shake them… then an explosion can kill them."
He looked down at his empty hands.Weaponless. But not powerless.
There were still more Overseers. Some rising. Some charging.
But Jaemin was smiling.
He'd figured something out.
He could break the rules.
He counted.
Seven left.
Some of them were growing — bones stretching, muscles bulging grotesquely as if the Rift itself was refusing to lose.
But Jaemin smiled.
Their armor was gone. Their crowns shattered.
They were vulnerable.
He rolled his shoulders, aura flaring brighter — a savage, blazing orange wildfire wrapping around him like a cloak. And then—
He charged.
The first punch landed like a cannon.
It didn't just break the Overseer's head — it obliterated it, sending a thunderous shockwave that hurled the others back like leaves in a storm.
He leapt.
Midair, his heel came crashing down on the nape of another Overseer. It slammed into the ground with a crunch — Jaemin followed through with a brutal punch to the chest.
Two down.
No pause. No mercy.
"Precision Core: Bolstering Snipeshots."
Streaks of orange lightning erupted around him — five, six, ten bolts of crackling energy that launched like guided arrows.
CRACK!!
Three Overseers were vaporized on the spot, clean shots right between the eyes.
The last two were staggered, their heads exposed.
Jaemin didn't stop.
He spun midair — body flipping upside down, both legs extended outward like twin blades. His heels sliced clean through the necks of the final two.
A perfect aerial execution.
He landed softly.
Steam hissed from the field of corpses. Ash floated in the air like snow.
He stood still — breathing hard, body humming with unnatural strength. His shirt clung to his frame, soaked in sweat and blood. But his eyes were calm.
"I've never fought like this before, but my body… it feels light... Like it's always known how."
Every workout. Every hour of pain. It had all built this.
The silence returned.
He glanced around — no Rift exit.
No way out.
This wasn't the end.
And Jaemin knew it.
Jaemin clenched his palm into a fist, his aura flaring bright.
Boom!!
He slammed it into the ground.
The impact cracked the stone beneath him, sending debris flying in all directions like shrapnel.
But on his far left—
Slice!!
A chunk of debris was cleaved clean in mid-air.
His eyes narrowed.
Someone—or something—was still out there.
Abyssal energy slithered through the Rift like a serpent. He could feel it now. This wasn't just an overrun Tier-5 zone. These Overseers hadn't spawned naturally.
They were being summoned.
"C'mon."
Jaemin turned in that direction, orange embers crackling along his back like wings.
"Hide-and-seek is over"
There it stood.
Not walking. Not floating. Just there.
A tall figure, too tall to be human, draped in a cloak that didn't follow the rules of fabric. It shimmered with movement—like someone had woven together night sky, void, and dying prayers. Faces blinked in and out of the folds. Stars died and were born in its threads. It didn't breathe. It didn't shift.
No eyes. No face. Just a pit of nothing where a gaze should be.
Blackened skin cracked like glass under heat, pulsing with thin, glowing veins of violet. Its arms were long—too long—fingers jointless and stiff, curled as if waiting to pluck something out of reality.
It stepped forward.
No sound. No weight. Just presence.
Jaemin didn't flinch. He squared his stance.
"So you're the one summoning them."
The creature tilted its head. Slowly. Deliberately. Like a beast studying something far below its concern.
Jaemin's aura flickered—embers sparking off his shoulders like a wildfire about to break loose again.
No words passed between them.
Only the Rift, the steam, and the overwhelming sense of something going very, very wrong.
The mage raised its arms.
Fingers spread. Palms forward.
No chant. No gesture. Just raw will as a circle of blood-red energy spiraled outward, crackling. The ground beneath its feet trembled as nearby stones lifted unnaturally, drawn together by force unseen. They churned and fused mid-air like molten clay sculpted by rage.
CRACK!!
A hulking golem slammed into the ground, its core pulsing with unstable red light.
Jaemin didn't hesitate.
BOOM!!
With a single punch—clean, devastating—the creature shattered like brittle glass under a hammer. Its pieces hit the earth before its echo did.
He didn't even blink.
"That was a test."
He muttered, dust drifting around his heels.
The mage stepped forward. Unfazed. Unbothered. Its long limbs lifted again.
Then, the sky ignited.
A rain of embers—glowing red spears of burning energy—fell like a divine punishment. The air screamed around them, streaking with smoke and heat.
Jaemin moved. Swift, sharp, almost dancing between them. Every step a blur. Every pivot exact. He wanted to counter, to strike, to find the gap—but the mage was relentless. The barrage wasn't slowing down—it was studying him.
And it had no intent to stop.
"Tch."
He darted forward anyway, charging headlong through the storm of fire. His arm instinctively raised to block—
Then something happened.
A rock by his side… shifted.
No—responded.
It surged toward him and hovered, shielding him from the burning barrage. His hand was glowing. Blue. Just like the fragment he'd touched before he came into the Rift.
"Telekinesis?"
His feet skidded across the ground, mind racing as realization dawned. The emberstorm cracked behind him—stones shielding every vital blow.
And Jaemin smiled.
"Oh… I can work with this."
With a flick of his hand, the debris around him lifted—dozens of jagged shards, floating, orbiting, trembling with energy. He clenched his teeth, then snapped his fingers—
The shards hurled forward like a meteor swarm, colliding with the mage's spell midair, detonating in bursts of kinetic force.
The crimson rain died.
Smoke billowed.
The mage took a step back, head twitching, cloak rippling in unnatural ways.
Jaemin raised his hand again—this time, not to block, but to summon.
Twin daggers blinked into existence mid-air.
Faint golden holograms shimmered near the hilts before solidifying in his grip.
"Binary Stars..."
Jaemin said under his breath.
Two blades, sleek and elegant, hummed with power. Light-weight. Razor-sharp. Each forged for speed and control. They made the Eye of the Sun feel like an old relic.
The left pulsed with a bright cyan glow, humming like frost.The right shimmered in deep violet, darker than dusk, crackling faintly.
Balance. Duality. Orbit.
He twirled both daggers effortlessly.
And then he stared the mage down, eyes cold, aura flaring with wildfire.
"We haven't even started."
The mage raised its arms again, fingers twitching as a guttural chant spilled from its mouth—an ancient tongue, layered in malice.
The ground cracked.
Massive boulders, glowing faintly red, tore from the earth and launched toward Jaemin like meteorites.
Jaemin scoffed.
"You need incantations for that?"
He said, raising a finger, its tip glowing with soft blue energy.
"I just need to move my hand."
With a flick, one boulder tore free from gravity's grip—redirected by pure will—and slammed into the other midair.
BOOM!
The explosion of stone sent tremors across the battlefield. Dust engulfed everything.
And from the smoke—he soared upward.
High above the chaos, framed by the dim Rift sky, Jaemin's eyes gleamed with a radiant sunrise hue.
SLASH!
His blade arced through the air, cutting deep into the mage's arm before it could react.
The mage reeled but retaliated instantly, lashing out with a raw wave of force energy. It slammed into Jaemin's chest, hurling him backward.
But he landed on his feet.
It barely stung.
A few days ago, that blow would've shattered him. Now? It only fueled the fire.
Without hesitation, Jaemin sprinted forward again, hurling one of his twin daggers with pinpoint accuracy. The mage tilted, narrowly dodging it.
Too easy.
Jaemin grinned.
His left hand snapped open—and with a surge of telekinetic force, the thrown dagger reversed midair, curving backward like a comet.
It pierced clean through the mage's chest.
The creature staggered.
A hollow scream echoed through the Rift.
SLASH!
Jaemin pushed off the ground, rising to his feet in a fluid motion. His other blade spun in his grip, twirling once before landing the final, decisive strike.
The mage's body trembled—then collapsed.
Steam rose from the lifeless corpse.
And then came the reward.
Rift Crystals. Dozens of them, clinking to the ground like spilled treasure.
Jaemin knelt beside the body, blades fading into his aura once more. He eyed the crystals with a casual smirk.
"Man."
He muttered, stuffing handfuls into his jacket.
"Should've brought a bag."
The space tore open slightly, a jagged rift shimmering with a piercing blue hue that cut through the dim surroundings like a blade. The exit to the Rift.
He moved forward, stepping toward it with a slow, steady pace—his breath caught in a quiet sigh. Another Rift cleared. Solo.
His jacket felt heavy against his back, weighed down by the rough, jagged crystals snagged from the Rift's edge, glinting faintly with that same eerie blue light.
No celebration, no relief—just the feeling of going back to his bed and wanting to sleep.