Chapter Text
A crowd had already formed in front of the portal by the time Sheng Shao You arrived. About twenty newly registered hunters stood in loose rows, shifting with a mix of excitement and nerves. Their uniforms were standard-issue training gear, plain and sturdy—appropriate for recruits who hadn’t yet earned personalized equipment. The early morning air was cool, carrying the faint hum of the portal as it shimmered in mottled green light.
Every year, the Hunter’s Association held a beginner dungeon excursion. Newly minted hunters—from Class A down to Class F—received their first supervised exposure to dungeon environments. The purpose was simple: controlled experience and a chance for recruits to decide whether they wanted to pursue expedition work or settle into support roles instead.
As an incentive, guild leaders were required to attend as well, rotating the duty among themselves. Officially, they were listed as supervisory support. Unofficially, they were mascots—living symbols of prestige and success, used to convince recruits to stay in a career with high mortality and even higher rewards.
A representative from the Association stepped forward, adjusting the badge on his coat. Jing Huan, the leader of the expedition, an A-class hunter., specialising in earth manipulation. His voice carried clearly across the clearing. “Listen carefully. This will be a basic dungeon excursion. We will encounter low-level monsters only, all within the safety parameters of an E or F-class dungeon. Stay with your assigned groups at all times. Follow your group leader’s commands. You will be instructed on each monster’s weaknesses and proper points of attack.”
Some recruits straightened. Others exchanged quick glances. Families watched from behind the barricades, anxious but proud. Today marked their ceremonial first step into the life of a hunter.
Sheng Shao You positioned himself at the back of the formation, separated from the crowd by instinct more than intent. His presence drew occasional sidelong looks. The three-piece charcoal suit fitted him flawlessly, every line sharp and deliberate. A muted cold lingered in the air around him, adjusting the atmosphere with quiet authority. At his hip rested a sword he rarely drew outside of real combat, its dark scabbard accented with simple silver fittings.
He was the supervising guild leader for this year’s training cycle. Out of habit, he scanned the recruits—stance, breathing, the tension in how they gripped their weapons. Most were B- and C-class. Two stood out as A-class. One Omega stood among the Betas, head slightly bowed, hands neatly clasped.
Shao You’s inspection paused for a fraction of a second.
Not because of pheromones; class readings were suppressed during registration. Not because of aura; the Omega barely had enough to detect.
Just appearance.
Delicate features, a well-defined jawline, and a beauty mark under his left eye. His presence was calm and unassuming—soft expression, composed and unreadable.
Shao You’s gaze shifted away. He didn’t dwell on it. His assessment was complete and that was enough.
“President Sheng,” the Association representative approached him with a respectful nod. “Thank you again for joining this year’s excursion.”
Shao You returned a brief incline of his head. “Begin.”
“Yes, sir.”
The portal widened with a shimmer of green light. Group leaders called out numbers. Recruits checked their straps and adjusted their weapons. Under the Association’s direction, they stepped through the portal in orderly lines.
Shao You remained still until the last recruit disappeared into the light. Then he followed.
________________
The air changed the moment they stepped through. Humid and damp, the kind of heaviness that clung to the skin and soaked through fabric if left long enough. It was a typical swamp dungeon—waterlogged soil stretching in uneven patches, dense canopy overhead thick with mangrove branches. The leaves blocked most of the light, casting mottled shadows across the wet ground. Vines curled around the trunks and hung from above like ropes. The constant hum of insects mixed with the soft rustle of leaves as wind brushed the treetops.
Shao You lowered his body temperature immediately. Ice spread under his boots as he dropped his temperature, solidifying the ground enough to walk. Wet socks were not an option.
Association officers moved ahead, gathering the first groups for instruction. They explained the swamp ecosystem, the common monsters in the area, and the best weapons to use against ground and water types. The recruits listened with varying degrees of focus, their boots squelching in the mud as they adjusted to the terrain. Some asked questions. Others looked around with cautious curiosity but stayed within visual range of their group leaders.
Shao You stayed at the back of the formation. His steps were silent over the thin layer of ice, his body temperature kept low to counter the swamp’s heavy humidity. His gaze remained down and forward, tracking recruits, footing, and any movement that didn’t belong. His senses stretched outward, quietly cataloguing nearby life signatures and monster activity. A small commotion ahead made him lift his gaze.
One of the recruits—the same Omega from earlier—misstepped where the shallow water hid a pocket of mud. The ground sank under his weight, and he had grabbed a tree root to keep upright. Several recruits reached for him immediately, too eager, but the Omega brushed them off as he regained his balance quickly.
Shao You didn’t intervene. Training belonged to the Association. His role was only to step in during emergencies. He shifted his attention outward again.
A faint tremor moved under the ground. Barely there. Easy to miss.
Shao You paused, feeling the vibration travel through the thin layer of ice beneath his boots. The Association officer at the front kept talking about regional flora, completely unaware. None of the recruits reacted either.
Something was off. His instincts flared—subtle but insistent—yet nothing in the environment hinted at an immediate threat. The faint tremor had already faded. Maybe it was insignificant.
Shao You exhaled quietly and kept moving. It was probably nothing.
However, the deeper they went, the more the unease settled under his skin. Not enough to raise an alarm, but enough that his senses stayed sharp. His hand drifted closer to his sword, fingers resting lightly on the grip.
Up ahead, the recruits were growing more confident. They’d begun taking down small monsters on their own—large E-class insects that looked like warped beetles. Despite their size, their shells were soft and easy to cut through. Their attacks were weak, little more than spit-sized pellets even a civilian could dodge.
Shao You stayed at the rear, matching the formation’s pace without breaking stride.
Suddenly, the dungeon shuddered. A low ripple rolled through the ground, as if something deeper had shifted. The sun dimmed by a shade, darkening the swamp floor. Several recruits stumbled, confused by the sudden imbalance.
The Association officers froze.
“…That’s not normal,” one muttered.
Another tremor hit—stronger this time, rolling through the waterlogged ground and up the moss-covered trees in a slow, heavy wave. Shao You froze mid-step as the dungeon’s mana signature spiked hard. Red lights flashed against the dim, swamp-filtered light while tablets beeped in alarm.
Officers scrambled, tapping at their monitors, but the numbers on the displays kept jumping—too fast to track. The mana readings were climbing at an impossible rate. Dungeon mana always fluctuated, but not like this. Not this quickly.
“President Sheng,” Jing Huan said quietly, a lace of concern threading through his voice, “if the readings continue like this—”
“Remain cautious,” Shao You replied, tone even and calm. His gaze swept across the forest, noting the shifting textures of the grounds, the faint distortion gathering above, and the increasingly erratic glow of the dungeon’s lamps. “Defensive formation until I give the order. Keep everyone close.”
The recruits crowded together under the Association’s direction, their earlier excitement gone. Several gripped their weapons too tightly; others kept darting glances over their shoulders, flinching at every distant rumble. Even the A-class recruits looked uneasy. This kind of fluctuation wasn’t something they were informed about.
A sharp gasp rose from somewhere near the middle of the formation. The Omega recruit from earlier had stumbled when the ground jolted again. He caught himself, but before he could fully steady his footing, mutated beasts—larger and more aggressive than anything expected at E-class—burst out of a foliage. Their eyes locked immediately onto the weakest target.
The Omega.
He crossed the distance in seconds, intercepting the first descending creature with a precise upward stroke. Frost spread across the monster midair before it shattered on impact with the ground. He pivoted to redirect another beast with the flat of his blade, sending it crashing into the tree where it lay stunned.
Behind him, the Omega had stumbled backward from the shockwave of his hit. His footing slipped on loose gravel.
Shao You reached out before he fell, one hand steadying him by the elbow.
“Are you injured?” he asked, concerned.
The Omega shook his head quickly. “N-no. I’m alright.”
His voice was soft, almost too calm, but tinged with the unmistakable tremor of someone overwhelmed by unexpected danger. Instinctively, Shao You adjusted his stance, shifting so his body shielded the recruit without making it obvious.
“Stay behind the shield-bearers,” he instructed, releasing him once the footing was stable. “Don’t separate from the group.”
The Omega nodded obediently, retreating back to the center. Shao You turned away, returning his attention to the battlefield. He dispatched the last of the mutated wolves with a controlled burst of frost, lowering the temperature just enough to immobilize them without overexertion.
Only once he confirmed the immediate area was secure did Shao You look toward the recruits. Again, that delicate face drew his attention. The Omega’s breathing was slightly quickened, but he was unharmed. Wide eyes turned to him, their gazes locking. For a moment, Shao You’s heartbeat stuttered, a brief hitch he crushed down immediately. This was not the time.
The party moved forward as the Association tried to guide the recruits toward a wider clearing—an area easier to defend if the dungeon continued to fluctuate. Under normal circumstances, an E-class swamp dungeon stayed stable for weeks. Fluctuations this severe, without any prior indicators, were unheard of. Yet every few steps, the ground pulsed faintly beneath their feet, as though the entire dungeon were breathing.
Shao You stayed at the rear, where he could monitor both the recruits and the shifting paths behind them. The dungeon’s layout was destabilizing—trees shifting, routes opening and closing as if deliberately trying to confuse the party.
He dispatched two more mutated creatures with quick strikes.
“Mana density up another twelve percent,” Jing Huan reported, brows drawn together. “At this rate, we’re looking at escalation to A-class levels.”
Shao You frowned, while dungeon escalation was not unheard of, the unprecedented raise was never recorded before. “Prepare the emergency portal,” Shao You said. “We need to find a stable ground.”
The officer nodded. “Understood.”
They pressed deeper into the dungeon, searching for stable ground to place an exit crystal. The swamp terrain shifted underfoot—waterlogged soil giving way to firmer patches where exposed tree roots curled over stone. Even the trees began to change: bark thinning and darkening until jagged stone trunks rose in their place, each one veined with faint crimson lines that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Vines draped over the trunks twitched, curling slowly as the party passed. A few tendrils stretched toward the hunters, reacting to movement or mana—hard to tell which.
The sound of running water grew louder.
The trees thinned, and the terrain sloped forward until a wide river came into view, expanding the horizon. Dark water pushed steadily downstream, its surface broken by drifting moss and the occasional ripple with no clear source. Crimson reflections from the mana-veined trunks shimmered across the water, staining the river with shifting, uneasy light.
The running water masked smaller sounds—shifting mud, snapping branches, the quiet scrape of movement beneath the surface. The river itself was wide, its dark green water hiding any sense of depth. The current looked calm from a distance, but the pull along the edges told a different story. It was too risky to cross.
Jing Huan, who was leading, called out. “Do not fall into the water.”
They approached the riverbank cautiously, officers signaling the recruits to stay close. Shao You’s steps slowed as he neared the edge.
Something was wrong.
The hum of the dungeon’s mana changed near the river, a low vibration threading through the air like a warning. The mist rolling off the water wasn’t drifting naturally; it curled in slow spirals, rotating against the wind.
A faint pulse rippled through the ground.
Then another.
Not from the river.
From the left—within the thinning treeline.
He exhaled quietly.
Ambush.
“Hold,” he said, low enough that only the nearest officer heard.
The officer blinked, confusion flickering. “President Sheng?”
Shao You didn’t answer. His senses stretched outward—mana signatures, shifting weight, the faint displacement of water. He caught it: a cluster of presences lying flat in the mud to the left, their bodies pressed against the swamp floor, hidden beneath moss and shallow water.
Too still. Too deliberate.
A second presence moved beneath the river surface—a slow drift, circling toward the recruits like a shadow hunting by sound alone.
Shao You’s grip tightened.
“Shields up,” he ordered, voice cutting cleanly across the group. “Attack-class recruits to the back, support in the middle. Jing Huan, hold the left side.”
His gaze swept the treeline, then the river. “We have incoming.”
Shimmering green barriers formed around the recruits as the Association hunters spread out. Some guarded the rear, but most shifted left, where the cluster of ambushers waited. Shao You stepped toward the riverbank, bracing for the larger presence lurking in the water.
Thin flakes of snow drifted down around him as his body temperature dropped, melting instantly into the mud and river below.
Another ripple broke the surface—small, nearly silent, but wrong. The water pushed outward in a controlled ring, not from the current, but from something rising beneath it.
Then everything happened at once.
Something large surged upward from beneath the surface, splitting the dark water in a violent burst. A massive shape—scaled, ridged, and dripping river sludge—shot toward the bank with a roar that vibrated through the ground. Water slammed against the shore, drenching the front line.
At the same moment, the treeline exploded.
Mud and tangled roots erupted as several smaller creatures burst from the left—fast, low-bodied things with slick hides and elongated jaws. They moved like crooked shadows, sprinting straight for the recruits.
“Left side—engage!” Jing Huan shouted.
Shields flared. The shimmering green barrier wavered as the first wave hit, creatures clawing and snapping against the mana field. Support recruits screamed, backing into each other as officers stepped in front of them.
Shao You didn’t move as his attention stayed on the river. Fingers gripping his sword tight. The metal hummed faintly in response, frost gathering along the engraved spine.
A massive Ghariel variant tore from the water, its skull elongated and serrated teeth flashing like rusted daggers. Talon-like forelimbs gouged into the riverbank, carving trenches through mud and stone as it hauled its enormous body forward. An A-class monster—an aberrant mutation of a saltwater crocodile. Known for their speed and overwhelming strength. Their armoured hide made them nearly impervious to most physical attacks.
But this one was larger than any variant he’d faced before.
It lunged, jaws wide, teeth glinting, water exploding around it.
Shao You stepped forward.
His sword slid free in a clean upward arc, slicing through the river spray and colliding with the snapping jaw. The impact rang like steel against stone, reverberating up his arm. Bracing his left hand against the flat of the blade, he pushed—
The creature skidded backward across the riverbank.
Shao You didn’t stop. He advanced with another strike, a downward slash that detonated a sheet of ice across the monster’s head. Frost surged over its eyesocket, sealing it completely and cutting off its vision.
Blinded, the Ghariel thrashed, movements erratic and violent, relying now only on scent and instinct.
Its massive tail whipped around—fast, brutal, impossibly strong.
Shao You dropped low, sliding across a patch of frost-slick mud as the tail roared over him. He rose in a smooth, fluid twist, mana sharpening along his sword’s length as ice bloomed beneath his feet.
Then he struck.
The frost-forged blade carved through the monster’s torso as effortlessly as if slicing through river mist. For a single suspended heartbeat, the swamp fell silent.
Then the creature split along the line of the attack, collapsing backwards into the river with a thunderous splash.
Shao You did not pause.
He turned toward the Association officers as they finished off the remaining beasts. With a flick of his hand, ice spikes erupted from the ground—piercing the last monsters cleanly.
Seeing the last monster fall, Jing Huan rushed toward the S-Class, tablet already open, red alerts flashing across the screen.
“President Sheng… this dungeon isn’t stabilizing. It’s escalating. Again.”
As if to punctuate his words, another pulse rippled through the riverbank—deeper this time—sending tremors across the riverbank as if something massive was shifting beneath the waterlogged earth.
The reading monitors spiked and Jing Huan’s face drained of color. “S-Class dungeon breakthrough imminent!”.
Shao You’s chest tightened. With twenty rookies and only a handful of Association hunters, they would be slaughtered. And if he didn’t stop the dungeon breakthrough, the monsters would spill into the real world. He had no choice.
“Release the barriers and open the exit portal. I’ll stabilize the ground,” he ordered, driving his sword into the earth. Snow drifted around him as his body temperature dropped, frost racing outward from the blade. Ice crawled across the unstable riverbank, locking the shifting mud into solid ground.
Jing Huan sprang into action as the frost spread beneath their feet. He signaled for the outer barrier to be dropped—removing mana interference so the portal could form properly—then lifted a large yellow mana crystal from his kit.
An A-class Exit Crystal, extremely rare. They are capable of transporting an entire group rather than a single person. However, they were almost never used—partly because of how scarce they were, and partly because they required a completely stable area to function. And even then, they needed at least ten minutes to power up.
Jing Huan gritted his teeth and began the activation sequence as golden runes blossomed across the crystal’s surface. The riverbank trembled again beneath the ice. Distant roar of monsters.
They didn’t have ten minutes.
________________________________
Shao You flicked another monster away from the group, his strikes weaving seamlessly between the attacks of the other hunters. Jing Huan had raised an earth barrier to cover their rear while the remaining officers provided supporting fire. Shao You himself had been flickering left and right—appearing wherever a gap opened, wherever a recruit faltered, wherever a monster got too close.
Above them, the A-class Exit Crystal hovered in midair, spinning slowly, golden light sparking across its surface as the runes deepened.
A piercing shriek split the sky.
Shao You’s head snapped up.
Another A-class monster descended— a Garuda.
The Garuda folded its massive wings and dove.
Wind pressure slammed downward, ripping reeds from the ground and scattering loose stones across the riverbank. The recruits screamed and ducked, several losing their footing as the shockwave hit.
“DOWN!” Jing Huan shouted, throwing up another layer of earth just as the creature streaked toward them like a living spear.
Shao You was already moving.
He launched himself upward, frost bursting beneath his feet in a sharp, crystalline blast. The Garuda’s talons sliced through the space he’d been standing a second before—shredding the barrier instead.
The monster shrieked in fury, wings snapping wide as it banked sharply for another pass.
Shao You twisted mid-air, catching the edge of one wing with his free hand, and swung himself onto its back.
Gasps erupted below.
“P-President Sheng—?!”
“He’s ON it—he’s actually—!”
“Is he insane?!”
Probably, Shao You thought grimly as the Garuda bucked beneath him, trying to dislodge the weight now digging into its spine.
He drove his sword down.
The blade pierced between feathers and scale, frost detonating along the creature’s nerve line. The Garuda screamed, spiraling violently—its path veering away from the recruits by sheer force of Shao You’s sword.
Below, the A-class Exit Crystal spun faster—golden runes flickering from deep amber to bright, blinding white. The entire structure hummed intensely, nearing full activation.
“Two more minutes!” Jing Huan yelled, voice cracking with urgency.
The recruits huddled together, several trembling, eyes following the blur of wings and falling ice overhead.
The Garuda twisted again, rolling to crush him beneath its weight.
Shao You dug his heels into its back and yanked his sword free, frost trailing behind the blade like a tail of white fire. He sprinted along the creature’s spine—balance perfect, suit brushing against turbulent wind—then slashed downward in a diagonal arc.
Ice bloomed across the Garuda’s wing and its flight faltered.
Its scream tore through the air as it spiraled toward the ground.
Shao You leaped off at the last second, landing in a crouch as frost cushioned his impact.
Behind him, the Garuda crashed into the riverbank, wings snapping in a spray of mud and water.
The recruits yelped and stumbled backward.
“Stay near the crystal!” an officer barked.
The crystal above them pulsed again—brighter, louder—its activation sequence reaching its final stage.
Almost there.
Shao You straightened, frost slipped off the blade in thin flakes, melting as they hit the ground. Cold mist unfurled from the blade, condensation forming and evaporating in steady pulses, as if the weapon itself were breathing winter into the swamp air.
The ground trembled beneath his feet and the Exit Crystal flared. A sharp, rising hum filled the air as golden light expanded outward like a blooming sun.
“Portal opening!” Jing Huan shouted.
A dome of shimmering gold snapped into existence around the recruits. Space warped, light folding inward until a swirling gateway opened in the center—wide enough for thirty people, the frozen ground beneath them steady.
“MOVE! EVERYONE, MOVE!”
Officers shepherded the rookies inside, pushing them toward safety. Panic, relief, and shouted orders blended into a frantic blur.
Nearby, the Garuda twitched. Its remaining wing spasmed, feathers bristling like warning spikes.
Shao You sensed it a fraction of a second before it moved.
The Garuda’s head snapped up, blinded eyes burning with primal fury. With a ragged scream, it threw itself forward—wounded, but driven by instinct—to attack the fleeing cluster of recruits.
Shao You lunged after it—
But the monster was faster. Its wings scraped the ground, propelling it forward in a desperate burst. Wind blasted across the riverbank, knocking several rookies off-balance.
And one—
The delicate-faced Omega—
Stumbled and fell right outside the portal’s boundary.
“WAIT—!” Jing Huan shouted.
Too late.
The portal shuddered— pulsed— and closed with a metallic snap of collapsing mana.
The golden light vanished.
The Omega blinked, dazed, as the last sliver of warm portal light flickered out behind him.
The monster lunged straight for the Omega and Shao You didn’t hesitate as he threw his body forward, frost bursting beneath his feet as he raced across the unstable riverbank. His sword came up in a clean, deadly arc—
A sharp twinge seared across his back as his old injury flared up, stealing half a second from him.
It was a half a second too long as the Garuda’s talons raked the ground inches from the Omega—
Shao You slammed into its flank, forcing its attack off course.
The monster screeched and snapped at him with its beak, feathers bristling, wings twitching violently.
He gritted his teeth, breath sharpening as frost gathered along his blade. He twisted, channelling the strike downward—
ICE BREAK.
A thunderous burst of frost detonated point-blank, engulfing the Garuda’s entire head. The creature convulsed once, body locking in place—then shattered.
Feathers, ice, and chunks of mana-corrupted flesh spilled across the frozen mud.
The Omega stared, wide-eyed, chest heaving.
Shao You straightened slowly, the portal was gone. The recruits were gone. There were only him and the Omega remained.
And the dungeon beneath them continued to pulse—unsteady, rising toward catastrophe, sealing them inside.