The air in the throne room was still and heavy, charged with a power that hummed against Derrick's skin.
Well, it seems the boss of this dungeon is an angel.
He looked at the magnificent being seated on the luminous dais and willed his scythe to dissolve. The dark aura retreated like a living shadow, and the weapon shrank, folding back into a simple, cold hairpin in his palm.
"I have been here before man was created," Archangel Sariel declared, her voice a resonant melody that seemed to vibrate in his bones.
Derrick took a step forward, his gaze analytical, unflinching. "Doesn't that make you a fallen angel?"
A flicker of something—surprise? Amusement?—passed through her cosmic eyes. What manner of intelligence is this?
She smiled, a serene and terrifying expression. She stood, her wings of folded light casting a soft glow, and descended the stairs with unnatural grace. She did not stop until she was directly before him. Then, to his utter astonishment, she knelt.
"Oh, Being. This fallen one wishes to be taken under your wing." Her head was bowed, the submission absolute and baffling.
This isn't what I was expecting. A rare spark of genuine surprise ignited in his mind. He looked down at the top of her gleaming head for a long moment. "Alright."
He turned to leave.
A hand, cool and firm as polished marble, caught his arm. "If I leave this place, I will have nowhere to go." The plea in her tone was stark against her divine composure.
Derrick stopped. My sisters won't let a stranger live in the family house… The thought of the inevitable drama was more daunting than any dungeon boss. A faint, internal sigh. "Alright then. Come with me."
He resumed walking, and she fell into step just behind him, a silent, radiant shadow. "The world is different now. If you are seen, you will cause… suspicion," he stated flatly.
"Understood, Master."
"Call me Derrick.Not master."
"As you wish,Derrick."
A soft shimmer passed over her, and she vanished from sight, though he could still feel the potent pressure of her presence beside him.
He emerged from the inner cavern to find Ava's party in stunned disarray. The air still crackled with residual mana from the trolls.
"Did he just… clear it?" Rachel whispered, her analytical mind struggling with the timeline. "The boss of an Irregular should be at least S- rank. It hasn't even been ten minutes."
"It's done," Derrick announced as he passed them, heading for the exit.
"Seems someone's getting cocky," Eric sneered, the taunt automatic but lacking its earlier conviction.
Derrick stopped.
He didn't turn, but the temperature in the cavern seemed to drop. From beside him, an invisible, murderous intent so potent it felt like a physical blade locked onto Eric. The spearman's blood ran cold.
What the—? The aura around him changed! Eric's bravado shattered into primal fear.
Finally, Derrick turned his head, just enough to fix Eric with a gaze so cold it seemed to freeze the very air in the hunter's lungs. "One more time," Derrick said, his voice a soft, deadly promise. "Just one more time."
He held the look for a heartbeat longer, then turned and walked out of the crumbling dungeon, his invisible companion in tow.
In the Scavenger Guild's command center, the alert chimed softly.
"Guildmaster. The Irregular dungeon… has been cleared. Neutralized."
Selene took the tablet, watching the status shift from CRITICAL to INACTIVE. A slow, intrigued smile touched her lips. He cleared it alone. Of course. A solo hunter… It seems our paths are destined to cross sooner rather than later.
The restroom hallway was a world away from the pounding music. Jane stared, not at a monster, but at a nobleman in the midst of a crime. His face was pristine, achingly handsome, framed by dark, elegant hair. Only his lips held a faint, glistening wetness, and his eyes—a deep, ancient crimson—held a polite, terrifying curiosity.
"Are you going to shriek all day?" Jane asked, her own voice startling her with its flatness.
The vampire's head tilted. She isn't a vampire… but she doesn't smell human. Nor lycan.What is she?
"Who are you?" His voice was cultured, smooth as aged wine.
"Why are you asking me that? Shouldn't I be the one asking? And besides, you're obviously a vampire."
"Obviously?" A sleek eyebrow arched. "Humans aren't supposed to know of our existence."
"And why is that?"
I see… No fear. None at all.
Intrigued, he stood, flowing to his feet with effortless grace. He closed the distance between them in a blur, stopping only when the cold tip of his nose nearly brushed hers. He inhaled subtly. Still no fear. Interesting.
"Because we are myth to humans." His whisper was intimate, a secret shared in the dark. "So I ask again. Who. Are. You?"
Jane remained silent, her light blue eyes holding his red ones.
"So that is how you wish to play." A faint, dangerous smile played on his lips.
Jane took a deliberate step back, reclaiming her space. "Play it? Why don't you tell me yours first?"
A game of attrition. How… refreshing.
He gave a slight, courtly bow. "Very well. I shall show mine, then you shall show yours. I am Carde Don, the Fifth of my line."
What a weirdly pompous name, Jane thought.
"I'm Jane Alexander."
A human name. But her presence is… ethereal.
He began to circle her, a predator assessing. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
"Why would I be?"
"We feed on humans.And we eliminate those who discover our existence. As you have now discovered mine." He stopped his circling, his intent crystallizing. "I should be killing you."
Jane sighed, a sound of profound irritation. She stepped out of his implied circle. "Should be? Then why don't you just go ahead?"
Fearless. Cocky. In 890 years, I have never seen a human—if she is one—stand so defiantly in the face of death.
His politeness finally sharpened into a blade. "A shame. You are… intriguing."
He dashed. Not a blur to her heightened senses, but fast. A fist aimed with casual, brutal power connected with her stomach, launching her through the air. She crashed through the stall door and into the porcelain toilet, shattering it completely.
A geyser of foul-smelling sewage water erupted, soaking her instantly.
That punch should have liquefied her organs, awakened or not. Carde watched, waiting for the death rattle.
It didn't come.
A figure stood up in the wreckage, drenched in foul water. Rage, cold and absolute, washed away every other thought. "You," Jane said, her voice dropping to a sub-zero calm that was more frightening than any scream, "will pay for ruining my clothes."
An unconscious, surging power burst from her—a grey aura, deep and swirling like primordial fog, erupted around her body.
Carde's eyes widened in genuine, epoch-shattering shock. Grey aura?! Not the bright tones of human mana… Grey? That is the hue of one of the Five Great Primordial Beings! The Being of Time and Destiny! What is that entity doing here, wearing human skin?!
He gulped, his immortal blood running cold.
Jane walked towards him. Her light blue eyes began to glow, bleaching of all color, becoming icy portals. The very air thickened, warping under her intimidating aura. With a thought fueled by pure fury, she unleashed telekinesis.
An invisible force seized Carde and slammed him into the tiled floor. Once. Twice. Again. The concrete cracked, then shattered, and he was pounded through the foundation into the earth below. Jane leaped into the hole, landing gracefully atop his chest in the dim, subterranean space.
How is this—?! I, a Noble Duke! He coughed, blood—his own precious blood—filling his mouth. Desperate, he summoned his vampiric art: Blood Control. Daggers of crystallized blood shot from his wounds toward her heart.
They shattered against her grey aura like glass against diamond.
She's not even awakened! If she were, a fraction of her true power would annihilate me from existence! And yet… I am being defeated by instinct alone!
Jane's anger peaked. For a split second, control vanished. Her hand shot forward with impossible speed, piercing his chest with a sound like tearing silk. When she pulled back, she held his still-beating heart in her clean, grey-wreathed hand.
Pathetic… was his final, fading thought.
The grey aura vanished. Jane stared at the organ in her hand, then at the lifeless, elegant body beneath her. Reality crashed back in. A strangled gasp escaped her. She dropped the heart, turned, and fled into the night, a ghost of sewage and terror.
At the party's bar, Williams stiffened. His glass halted midway. That aura… it's the same one from the Dark Fog six months ago. Fainter, but the same chilling signature. He moved, a shadow among revelers.
He found the destroyed restroom, the gaping hole into the earth. He jumped down, landing beside the body. The scene was brutal, clinical. "I was too late. And this one… was ended by her." He pulled out a secure communicator. "Hunter Association. Cleanup and retrieval. Code: Mythos."
Derrick's mansion was a study in minimalist silence. He led the now-visible Sariel inside. "You'll stay here. The guest room is the first on the right upstairs."
"I wish to learn of human culture," she said, her eyes taking in the stark, beautiful emptiness.
Wordlessly, Derrick went to a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, pulled out a stack of volumes—history, philosophy, a few classic novels—and handed them to her. Then he ascended to his own room, leaving her standing in the vast living area.
He lives alone in this vastness… she mused, tracing a finger over a book's cover before climbing the stairs.
Jane arrived home reeking of panic and sewage.
"Weren't you at a party? And why do I smell wastewater on you?" Kate asked, her nose wrinkled in passive-aggressive judgment.
Jane didn't answer. She just fixed her sister with a look of such potent, shaken fury that Kate fell silent. Jane stormed up to her room and locked the door, her heart hammering against her ribs.
On the roof of a city skyscraper, a woman stood at the precipice. The wind whipped her hair, but she didn't feel it. Her senses were tuned to a fading, cosmic echo.
"One of the Five is here," Alexis whispered, a hunter's gleam in her eyes. "After 26 years of searching across countless dimensional strands… I am close. I, Alexis the God-Slayer, will find you." She leaned forward and stepped off the edge, plummeting 100 meters before vanishing into a ripple of darkness mid-fall.
The next day,
Hunters Association HQ.
Chairman Zyan's office was a monument to power. The door opened to admit Hayden, impeccable in a black suit.
"Sir, the hunter 'Derrick.' As you suspected, he insisted on solo status. Using your authority, I accessed his sealed evaluation." Hayden's usually unflappable demeanor was strained. "His rank is S+."
Zyan's chair creaked as he leaned forward. "S+? Confirmed it?"
"The registry's AI confirmed it. He also requested an extra layer of secrecy, which the registrar found unusual even for a solo."
A slow, calculating smirk spread across Zyan's face. "A secret, he wanted? How interesting. Very well, we shall keep his secret… for now." Derrick. You grow more intriguing by the hour.
Hayden bowed, mind reeling. S+… A rank that defies the system itself.
Supermarket.
Derrick's shopping trip was turning into a spectacle. His cart—eight of them, linked together—was a mountain of supplies: non-perishables, fresh produce, toiletries, and strangely, several large, soft blankets.
"Why does one man need all this?" a woman murmured.
From behind a display of imported tea, Selene watched, her face partially hidden by a pink cap. He's a regular. But this quantity is new. This isn't for one person. Is someone living with him? A woman?
The female shopkeeper rang up the colossal order, her fingers flying. "It's been a while, Mr. Derrick. Your total is… twenty thousand, three hundred and twelve dollars." She blinked. "Shall I proceed?"
"Yes." Derrick slid a platinum card across the counter without a glance.
A collective, subtle gasp rippled through nearby shoppers.
Wealthy beyond even solo hunter norms, Selene noted, filing the information away.
"You've been staring quite intently at that mysterious handsome, Selene." A cool, feminine voice sounded beside her. Natasha, Vice-Guildmaster of the Raid Guild, had appeared, a vision in a simple, expensive black gown and heels that turn heads
Recognition buzzed through the aisle. Two elite guild leaders, in a supermarket, watching one man.
"He's a solo hunter," Selene said quietly.
Natasha's sharp eyes followed Derrick. "He looks more like a sculptor's masterpiece than a dungeon-crawler… Wait." She squinted. "He looks exactly like that woman. The one with the silver hair and bright blue eyes who pulled Williams and me during the Dark Fog."
"A sister, perhaps," Selene offered.
"Perhaps. But a solo? And buying out the store?" Natasha's gaze turned shrewd. "You're investigating him. He bought something from your armory."
"A form-changing weapon. He wanted an S-rank. Settled for B+."
Natasha whistled softly. "Your head's going to overheat. But then, that's your hobby." She turned to grab a basket of her own as Derrick finished his transaction, paid for a few last items in cash, and left, a silent force exiting the field of mundane gravity.
Derrick's Mansion.
Derrick deposited bags of groceries on the dining table where Sariel sat,immersed in a world history text."For you."
"Thank you, Derrick," she said, gathering them with an almost reverent care before vanishing to store them.
Later, Derrick sat reading a novel. Sariel descended the stairs, now dressed in a blue crop top and baggy jeans that looked strangely regal on her. She sat opposite him.
He closed his book. "How did a fallen archangel end up sealed in a dungeon?" he asked, his tone that of someone solving a practical puzzle. Thanks to my novels, I have a rough framework.
As expected. He knows of our hierarchy
She folded her hands. "Before our Father, the God of Heaven, departed, He left me to govern the host of heaven. for I was the most powerful and most respected. among the Archangels. Eons passed. Whispers became dissent, dissent became revolt. They questioned His choice." Her voice was steady, but a deep sadness permeated it. "I held my wrath. But when the seven others moved to usurp me, and all of Heaven with them, I saw only futile conflict. I chose exile. My sister, Nariel, chose to follow. We were at the very gates when they combined their power… not to fight, but to trap.They tore a hole in reality and sealed us within it—Nariel in one dimension, I in another. That prison was what you called a dungeon.."
She finished, offering a sad, serene smile."until you arrived."
A Crimson Garden.
In a manor of impossible scale, a woman with hair and eyes the color of fresh blood and dressed in monochrome red. Sipped tea from a delicate cup.
"Who would have thought I'd settle in this universe,on this planet… Isn't the weather a bit too compliant today?"
A violet portal ripped the air open. A woman in matching violet attire stepped out. "So, this is where you've been hiding."
"Viola. It's been a while."
"A while?! Ruby, it's been seventeen million years!"
"You haven't changed,"Ruby observed calmly, sipping her tea.
"Easy for you to say!"Viola slumped into a chair. "I miss Mother."
Ruby's cup paused. "We all do. The Supreme Celestial spent herself to birth us, the eight Superior Celestials. She fed us her own energy until we learned to consume starlight. Her hibernation was the price of our existence." Her voice softened, a rare crack in her fiery exterior.
"I know…"Viola sighed. "Have you heard from Scarlet?"
The temperature around Ruby's teacup spiked.
The fine porcelain developed a hairline crack.
"Scarlet? Why would she contact me?"
"S-sorry!It's just… she's so cold, and you're so…."
"I'm sowhat?" Ruby's eyes began to glow ember-red. A dark red aura flickered around her. On the horizon, clouds gathered with unnatural speed.
"No! It's not like that—!" Viola waved her hands.
"Do I lookangry to you?" The teacup shattered. The sky crackled with lightning.
"Ruby,calm down!"
"So,I am a hothead in your view?" The aura exploded. A localized storm erupted over the garden, fire dancing between the raindrops.
Ruby stood. The air crackled.
"Do you wish to die?"
With a snarl, Ruby clenched her fist.
A pillar of hellfire erupted in the center of the garden, and a localized storm of lightning and thunder boomed above them.
"WAIT,RUBY—!"
Central Hospital, Grand Lab.
Holik stared at a bubbling crucible, his mind far from the chemical reaction. If I were a hunter, I wouldn't have spent three months at the hospital after that truck hit me. But if I were a hunter, greater threats would replace these mundane ones. Even an S-rank falls to the dungeon of old age. I must overcome these limits.
"Mr. Holik? Hunter Daemon is here for you."
He finished his notation with a sharp stroke.
In the lobby, his older brother Daemon sat, attracting hushed admiration from the staffs and patients especially the females.
A B+ rank hunter that can solo B- dungeons. where the norm for B rank hunters is C-,C or C+ dungeon. He's Technically impressive.
"Why are you here?" Holik's greeting was frosty.
"Can't I check on my brother?"
"No.You're not the type. State your business or I return to my work."
Daemon sighed. He hasn't slept in days. "The guild needs high-grade potions. I volunteered. I used it as an excuse to see you. Is that a crime?"
"Fine.Goodbye."
"Wait.Where is Director Kate's office?"
Holik stopped,his back rigid. After a moment, he turned. "Follow me."
Scavenger Guild.
"Maintain discrete surveillance on the solo hunter Derrick. I want patterns, habits, anything unusual," Selene instructed her aide.
"Planning a 'chance encounter' in a dungeon, are we?" Natasha teased, leaning against the doorway.
"Perhaps."
"Your cheeks have been faintly pink since the supermarket,you know."
"Is that so?"Selene touched her face, her expression unreadable.
"Really,"Natasha grinned, popping a grape into her mouth. "This is going to be fun."
Fancy Restaurant.
Derrick stood at the counter, placing a large order for takeaway. The door chimed.
Lily entered, a vision in a deep purple gown. Her eyes found him instantly, and her breath caught. It's been so long… My Derrick. She hesitated, a storm of emotions in her eyes, as she watched his familiar, solitary figure from across the room.
Central Hospital, Lobby.
Jane walked in, the scent of antiseptic failing to clean her memory. She asked for Kate's office and got directions.
But a prickling sensation crawled up her spine—the unmistakable feeling of being watched. She glanced around the sterile lobby but saw only nurses and patients. She glanced over her shoulder. Since I entered… it feels like I'm being watched.
Suppressing a shiver, she hurried towards the elevator.
Unseen, leaning against a pillar cloaked in a perception-filtering skill, Alexis the God-Slayer watched her go, a hunter's smile playing on her lips.
Alexis followed, a shadow among shadows.