The roar of thousands filled the Seoul Hunter's Dome, a massive stadium draped in banners of guilds, sponsors, and shimmering mana-lights. Outside, the streets were a festival of their own food stalls, merchandise stands, and giant screens broadcasting every moment across Korea. This was not just a tournament; it was a national spectacle.
A booming voice cut through the air.
"Welcome, citizens of Korea, hunters of every rank, and honored guests!" The announcer's tone carried both flair and authority, amplified by enchanted speakers. "Today marks the beginning of the Annual Hunter's Festival! A celebration of courage, strength, and the unbreakable spirit of mankind against the unknown!"
The crowd erupted, waving banners with the names of their favorite hunters.
"This year," the announcer continued, "the rules are simple! Every hunter here will be transported into a battlefield unlike any before a Battle Royale against both hunters and monsters alike! Only the top sixty-four survivors will advance to the elimination rounds. From there, we fight one-on-one until only one remains!"
He lifted a hand, letting the tension rise.
"And the prize" He paused, letting the audience hold their breath. "a cash reward of ₩5 billion won and a luxury residence in the heart of Gangnam's richest district!"
The Dome thundered with cheers, whistles, and chants.
"Now let me introduce the mind behind this year's battlefield. A virtual world unlike anything seen before where life and death can be simulated, where monsters roam freely, and where hunters may unleash their full strength without restraint!"
The stage lights shifted, and a shimmering platform of mana rose at the center of the Dome. Standing atop it was a woman in a sleek white suit, radiating confidence and poise.
"Lee Hyori!" the announcer declared. "The brilliant researcher, mage, and innovator who created the Eternal Domain!"
Hyori smiled, lifting her hand in greeting. Cameras flashed, the crowd chanted her name, and the guild leaders in the private booth nodded in acknowledgment.
"With the Eternal Domain, hunters will enter a realm that mimics reality itself. You may fall, you may bleed, but you will rise again outside the arena. No deaths. No holding back. Only the purest clash of will and power!"
The audience's excitement reached fever pitch as the announcer spread his arms. The announcer's voice boomed again, drawing every eye toward the glowing platform in the center of the stadium.
"Hunters of Korea! Step forward! The Eternal Domain awaits you!" His arm stretched dramatically toward the arena. "All participants please make your way onto the teleportation platform. Remember anything you bring with you in person can and will be used within the battlefield. Weapons, artifacts, charms your survival depends on your preparation!"
The runes across the floor pulsed brighter, humming with restrained power. One by one, hunters began moving toward the stage, their weapons strapped to their backs, mana shimmering faintly around them in a show of pride and confidence.
Renji walked at an even pace, unhurried, his simple gear standing out among the hunters only having a suit he borrowed from RM and his steel sword. Chaewon slid up beside him, hands folded behind her back, her steps casual despite the weight of the moment.
"Pretty serious atmosphere, huh?" she murmured, tilting her head toward the hunters who were posturing for attention. "Almost feels like half of them are trying to win a fashion show instead of a fight."
Renji smirked. "Makes them stand out among the people"
Chaewon grinned, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. "Then how about we make this interesting?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Interesting?"
"A bet." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Whoever ranks higher in the battle royale gets to ask the loser for a favor. No limits. No excuses."
Renji chuckled, shaking his head. "Sounds dangerous."
"That's the fun part," Chaewon shot back. She extended her hand to seal the deal.
For a moment, Renji studied her expression playful, but beneath it, a flicker of challenge, maybe even something deeper. With a small smile, he took her hand.
"Fine. You're on."
"Good," she said brightly, squeezing his hand before letting go. "Start thinking about what favor I'll ask when I win."
Renji's smirk returned. "You mean what favor I'll ask."
They continued forward, the buzz of thousands of hunters around them drowned out by their private exchange. Unbeknownst to them, a pair of sharp eyes from the viewing booth above had caught that fleeting moment of closeness.
The MC's voice rose again, commanding the stadium. "Hunters step onto the platform! The Eternal Domain awaits your courage, your strength, and your resolve! The countdown begins now!"
The runes flared like a rising sun, beckoning them to step into another world.
The world blinked white.
The Frostfang Expanse stretched in endless white, jagged ridges of ice gleaming under a pale, ghostly sun. Renji's boots crunched softly as he walked, his breath misting in the frigid air. A guttural roar cut through the storm.
From beneath the snow, an ice-furred beast the size of a carriage erupted, crystalline tusks gleaming with frost. It charged, the ground trembling beneath its bulk.
Renji didn't hesitate. He slid forward, blade flashing in a precise arc. The beast's tusk shattered with a sharp crack, and with another clean strike, his sword pierced the creature's throat. Blood steamed against the frozen ground as the monster collapsed in a heap.
The crowd inside the arena roared. Across Korea, millions watching the broadcast leaned closer to their screens.
The ice-furred beast toppled with a ground-shaking thud, steam rising from its gaping wound. Renji exhaled once, steady, his blade still gleaming. His head turned ever so slightly. Three faint heartbeats. Shallow breaths, trying to sync with the howl of the blizzard. The crunch of boots on frost, too careful to be natural.
They thought they were predators waiting for their prey. They didn't realize the roles were already reversed.
Renji moved.
The first hunter, crouched behind an ice ridge, blinked and suddenly found steel sliding across his throat. His eyes widened, but no sound came out only a soft gurgle lost in the storm.
The second's instincts screamed, but too late. A blur in the snowstorm, Renji was already there, kicking the man's knee sideways before plunging his sword into his chest. The crack of bone echoed before the blizzard swallowed it whole.
The third tried to run. He barely managed two steps before Renji's blade flew through the air. A silver arc, silent and merciless. It struck between his shoulders, and he crumpled in the snow, lifeless.
Three hunters eliminated in less than ten seconds.
The arena roared. Across the banquet hall, all eyes were fixed on the monitor showing Renji calmly retrieving his sword and walking on, as though nothing had happened. Renji's figure disappeared into the blizzard once more, steady, calm, leaving only three broken bodies behind.
The monitors shifted, replaying the moment in slow motion Renji's blade a blur of silver, his movement clean and without hesitation. Three hunters down. One monster slain. All in the span of a few breaths.
Whispers rippled across the banquet hall.
Irene leaned forward, her wine untouched, eyes fixed on the icy battlefield. "That isn't luck. That's training carved into his bones. The Association lowballed him. He should've been A-rank from the start."
Suho of Ironfang grunted in agreement, arms folded across his chest like iron bars. "The way he dismantled those hunters no wasted steps, no flourish. That's battlefield discipline. You don't get that from casual dungeon runs."
Lee Jong-suk swirled his glass idly, watching Renji's figure vanish into the storm. "His calm unnerves me more than his blade. He didn't revel in the kills. Didn't hesitate. Just moved on." His smile was faint, thoughtful. "That's not the mark of luck. That's the mark of experience."
At the Obsidian Guild's table, CL tapped her finger against the armrest, gaze sharp as a knife. "I told you before the Association's evaluation system is flawed. He's not E-rank material."
Beside her, GD smirked faintly, though his eyes betrayed focus. "You saw it too. No theatrics, no panic. He just executed. If anything, he looks more like one of ours than some no-name rookie."
But across the room, Seungri chuckled, his voice pitched just high enough for others to hear. "Please. You're all giving him too much credit. A beast distracted in the cold, three careless hunters huddled too close together anyone could've capitalized on that. Luck disguised as skill."
Several minor guild leaders murmured in agreement, nodding quickly, eager to side with him. "True, true. The storm hides mistakes it's easy to misread what happened."
Suho's eyes narrowed, his voice like a growl. "Luck doesn't let you feel a heartbeat through a blizzard."
Irene's lips curved in a sharp smile. "And luck doesn't slit throats with surgical precision."
CL's voice cut through the low chatter, steady and firm. "Seungri, call it luck if you want but if that's luck, I'd like to see how many of your guild's E-ranks could replicate it."
The room tensed, a faint ripple of unease passing through the minor guild representatives.
Seungri leaned back in his chair with a smirk, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his irritation.
At the head of the hall, Ma Dong-seok finally spoke, his deep voice quiet yet commanding.
"Speculation won't change anything. The battlefield will reveal the truth. Watch him closely. Hunters who survive this stage don't do so by accident."
The room quieted at his words. One by one, the guild leaders turned their attention back to the monitors as the Eternal Domain shifted focus to the other regions. The storm swallowed Renji once more, but his shadow lingered in their thoughts. To some, he was proof of untapped potential. To others, an overhyped fluke. Either way, no one could ignore him anymore.
Renji trudged forward, boots sinking into drifts that swallowed sound and warmth alike. Here, survival wasn't about glory it was about endurance, patience, and an instinct honed sharp enough to cut through frost.
He walked until the ridges broke into a shallow hollow shielded by jagged ice spires. The place carried the faint geometry of shelter, a windbreak where the storm's howl dimmed to a murmur. Renji brushed snow aside, carving a space against the rock wall. He stacked ice shards into a crude barricade, tested its stability, then stepped back. It was serviceable nothing more, nothing less. Enough to disappear from prying eyes.
Food was the next concern. He crouched by the snow, drawing his blade, and with a swift strike cracked through the frozen crust. Beneath, faint glimmers of movement snow hares burrowed shallow in this wasteland, clinging to warmth. One leap, one precise stab, and Renji pulled a limp body free. The kill was quick. He skinned it with practiced hands, movements unhurried, efficient, almost ritualistic. A thin strip of meat warmed against a small flame conjured with mana, releasing a faint scent into the icy void. Not a feast, but enough fuel to keep the body steady.
Renji chewed slowly. Somewhere in the distance, beneath the groan of the wind, something stirred.
A tremor of mana. Faint, uneven, struggling. Then the sound low snarls, sharp cracks of ice against claw, the guttural rhythm of predators circling prey.
Renji rose without a word, cloak drawn tight, blade sheathed but ready. His steps were steady, his breath measured, every sense sharpened by years of habit carved in harsher places than this. The sound grew clearer with each stride. A pack of wolves, judging from the layered snarls and the rhythmic pounding of paws in snow and then, through the wall of storm, a figure.
She stood in the clearing, back arched, hair plastered with frost, hands glowing with the last wisps of fading mana. Winter. Her breath came ragged, each spell tearing at reserves she no longer had. Around her, the ice wolves prowled in widening arcs, eyes glowing blue in the stormlight. Blood marked the snow where her defenses had failed, crimson streaks quickly swallowed by white.
Renji paused in the shadow of a ridge, eyes narrowing. She was holding ground with grit, not strength, fighting on instinct alone. One more push from the wolves, and she'd crumble.
The decision came without flourish, without hesitation and drew his sword.
The pack broke the storm before Renji did. White shapes blurred against the gale, their forms little more than shadows until the glow of their eyes pierced through the unnatural blue of ice wolves. A dozen, maybe more. They circled Winter, hackles bristling, jaws dripping frost that hissed when it touched snow.
Winter's chest heaved, one arm trembling as she forced another burst of mana into a half-formed barrier. The translucent shield wavered, cracked, and shattered under the impact of a wolf's lunge. She staggered back, boots sliding on ice.
Steel whispered as Renji drew his blade.
The first wolf leapt Renji met it midair. His sword rose in a clean vertical arc, catching under the creature's jaw. Momentum carried the beast past him, head splitting open as it collapsed in the snow with a dull crunch.
"Renji?" Winter's voice broke with disbelief, relief threading through exhaustion.
"Stay on your feet," he said evenly, eyes never leaving the pack. "They'll lunge at you first if you fall now"
Her lips parted as if to retort, but the wolves moved before words could come.
Two lunged together from opposite flanks. Renji sidestepped the first, blade sliding across its throat in a precise draw-cut, while his free hand snapped forward, shoving the second aside by the muzzle. It skidded, yelped, turned back snarling. By then, Renji had already shifted low, balanced, his blade thrusting straight through its chest. The wolf jerked once, then stilled.
Winter, regaining herself, raised her hand. Frost gathered at her palm, but the spell flickered, weak. She grimaced, forcing a shard of ice into the nearest wolf. It struck true but shallow, leaving the beast limping, still dangerous.
Renji finished it in a heartbeat.
"You shouldn't push yourself," he said, pulling his sword free.
"You're one to talk," she muttered, voice thin but tinged with stubbornness. "Every time I see you, you're saving me. Twice now it happened."
"Coincidence," Renji answered simply, parrying another lunge. His sword flashed, cutting the wolf down with mechanical precision. "You just happen to get into trouble where I am."
Winter managed a short laugh, though it was more ragged than amused. "And you just happen to always pull me out of it?"
Renji didn't reply. He didn't need to. The faint curl at the corner of his mouth, almost hidden beneath the storm, was answer enough.
The wolves regrouped. Seven left. They paced in wide arcs now, wary of the man who cut their kin down like brittle branches. Their breath steamed in the air, bodies weaving in predatory rhythm. Then they struck all at once.
The world narrowed into blurs of motion.
Renji pivoted, sword tracing deliberate, economical lines through the chaos. Every swing was small, efficient, meant not for flourish but for certainty. A wolf's leg severed, another's skull split clean, another silenced with a thrust beneath its ribs. Blood sprayed hot across the snow, painting red streaks into white.
Winter held her ground behind him, forcing what little mana she had left into short bursts slowing wolves, freezing patches of snow to trip their charge. Not much, but enough to make openings.
One wolf lunged low for his legs. He shifted back, sword dropping in a downward cut that cleaved spine from body. Another came from behind Renji twisted, letting it sail past, then buried his blade into its flank with a practiced turn of the wrist.
When the last two came together, he met them head on. His blade sank into the first's chest, and with a surge of strength he tore it free, spinning into the second. The sword cut clean through its neck.
The snowstorm pressed in again, swallowing the clearing. Around them, bodies of ice wolves lay strewn in crimson heaps, their steam vanishing into the frost. Renji exhaled slowly, flicking blood from his blade before sheathing it.
Winter leaned against a broken ridge, panting, her face pale but her eyes bright with something warmer than gratitude. "That's twice," she said softly, voice almost lost to the storm. "You've saved me twice now."
Renji's gaze lingered on her, unreadable. Then he adjusted his cloak, offering a faint nod. "Then try not to make it three."
Her lips curved into a small smile, despite her exhaustion. "No promises."
The wind howled louder, carrying the scent of snow and danger. Far above, the sky thickened with rolling clouds the storm was growing.
Renji glanced toward the horizon, then back at her. " Looks like a storm is coming. I have a place that we can take shelter from the storm."
She straightened, forcing strength into her limbs. For a heartbeat, she looked at him not as a savior, not as a hunter but as someone she wanted to stand beside, no matter how harsh the world became. He didn't notice, not fully but he felt it, faintly, like warmth cutting through the cold.
The storm clawed at the world outside, shrieking as if to tear the mountains down. Inside the hollowed ice-shelf Renji had claimed, there was only firelight and the steady hush of shadows curling over the entrance, cloaking them from sight and sound.
The small fire flickered, throwing pale light across Winter's face. She sat hunched in her cloak, shoulders trembling, teeth biting down to keep from chattering. Across from her, Renji gave her the dried meat he brought earlier.
"Eat," he said, the word quiet but firm.
Winter blinked, then took it with a soft, grateful smile. "You really do think ahead about everything, don't you?"
Renji shrugged lightly, chewing his own piece. "Force of habit. You stop preparing once, and it might be the last time."
The silence stretched, filled by the muffled storm and the crackle of bone-fire. Winter shifted, hugging her knees closer, trying not to show how hard the cold was biting into her. But her faint shiver gave her away.
Renji noticed, his eyes lingering before he spoke again soft, not mocking. "You're shaking. How are you supposed to fight like that?"
Winter tried to laugh, but it came out thin. "How are you not freezing? You've been walking through this blizzard like it's nothing. I swear my blood's turning to ice."
Renji tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Maybe it's your name. Winter should be used to the cold."
She blinked, then gave a breathy laugh despite herself. "That's mean."
"Not mean. Just true." His voice carried a faint warmth now, almost like teasing between siblings. He leaned back a little, gaze still calm. "The truth is simple. I use mana to stay warm."
Winter's brows furrowed. "What, like a shield?"
"Not quite." He lifted his hand, palm up. A shimmer of air rippled faintly, like heat above stone in summer. "Picture a coat. Not cloth, but mana. Thin enough you don't waste energy. Strong enough the cold doesn't sink in."
Her eyes widened. "You can do that?"
"Of course." He extended his hand toward her. "Here. Try it."
Hesitant, Winter placed her fingers in his. They were ice-cold against his calloused palm. The moment his mana wrapped over her skin, her eyes widened further the warmth wasn't fire-hot, but steady, like standing in sunlight after hours in the shade.
Her breath hitched. "Oh it feels alive."
Renji gave a small huff of amusement, almost like a chuckle. "Alive, huh? Don't exaggerate. It's just mana. If you practice, you'll manage the same. Think of it as keeping a blanket tucked around you."
Winter looked at him, her cheeks flushing not just from the warmth. The way he said it, steady and almost protective, felt strangely comforting.
"You make it sound easy," she murmured.
"That's because it is," Renji said gently, still holding her hand. "You're smart enough to figure it out. Just don't rush, or you'll waste your mana before the storm even gets worse."
For a moment, she didn't let go. The firelight flickered, shadows shifting, and when she finally pulled back, she clutched her hand close to her chest, smiling faintly.
Renji leaned back, drawing his shadows tighter across the entrance. His tone softened further, almost like an older brother giving advice. "Remember, Winter staying warm means staying alive. Don't forget that."
She nodded, gaze falling to the fire. "I won't."
And though the storm outside raged louder, for the first time that night, Winter didn't feel so small against it.