4 - SS Rank Gate Raid

SteelArm, Stiles, and Kiera watched from a distance, but the fight had been too fast for their eyes to follow. They had seen only flashes—blurred movement, streaks of steel, and then... silence.

Stiles swallowed hard, his gaze locked onto the butchered remains of the elf sprawled across the bloodstained ground. Dante, casually strolling away, wiped his spear clean with a few stray leaves, his hoodie still untouched by the carnage.

"Just… what the hell did I just witness?" Stiles muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kiera, usually quick with a sharp remark, said nothing. Her fists clenched, but her face was frozen in stunned silence.

SteelArm, however, wasn't shaken. He was inspired. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from determination. That level of power… He wanted it. He needed to train harder, push further. One day, he'd reach that level.

Without a word, he stepped forward, following Dante.

Kiera snapped out of her daze and trailed behind him, her thoughts still trying to process what she had just seen.

Stiles hesitated for a moment, then sighed and followed. The support team quickly caught up, exchanging uneasy glances but keeping silent as they moved.

An Hour Later the group arrived at the entrance of the ancient structure. Cracks ran along its stone surface, and its towering doors loomed ominously beneath the dense mana swirling in the air.

Dante stopped abruptly. His golden eyes sharpened as he felt the thick energy pressing down on them.

His hands curled into fists, "Those bastards…" he muttered under his breath.

SteelArm and Stiles tensed as Dante slowly turned to face them.

"Go back. Wait for me at the gate," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for debate. "You don't want to be here for this."

The support team hesitated only for a moment before retreating, disappearing into the forest without argument. Kiera, after a long pause, exhaled sharply and followed them.

But Stiles and SteelArm stood firm.

They exchanged glances before SteelArm spoke, his voice steady. "We'll do whatever we can to help."

Dante studied them for a moment, then let out a low chuckle.

"Damn… Alright. But if you die in there, that's on you. Not me."

without a hint of hesitation, both nodded.

Dante turned back to the massive doors, and opened it.

The building trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling.

As Stiles, Dante, and SteelArm stepped into the ancient building, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, sealing them inside. The air was thick with dust, and a musty smell clung to the stone walls. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps against the cold, uneven stone floor. The flickering light from the walls barely illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the chamber. They stood in what appeared to be an entry hall, with tall, cracked pillars lining the perimeter.

The walls were adorned with faded murals depicting scenes of battles and long-forgotten heroes. Dust covered every surface, and cobwebs clung to the corners. The floor beneath them was made of large, irregular stone slabs that looked as if they had been set hastily, some with cracks running through them, others slightly raised. The eerie silence of the place felt oppressive, like it was holding its breath.

Dante's eyes scanned the room, his instincts on high alert. "Stay sharp," he muttered, his voice low. He had seen enough dungeons to know that something was going on here.

Stiles glanced at the others. "Yeah, no kidding," he replied, his grip tightening on his twin blades.

SteelArm, his massive frame hulking in the low light, looked around as well. "This place feels... off," he muttered, his voice a deep rumble.

As they moved further into the hall, the temperature dropped noticeably. The walls seemed to close in on them, the hallway narrowing slightly as they progressed. The once smooth floor began to show signs of wear, with cracks and gaps forming between the stones. The deeper they went, the darker the hall became, forcing them to rely more on their senses than their sight.

Suddenly, Dante froze mid-step.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the floor ahead of him. Without warning, he leapt backward, narrowly avoiding a series of jagged metal spikes that shot up from the ground like deadly fangs.

The spikes glistened in the dim light, their sharp tips covered in rust. The mechanism had been triggered by Dante's movement, a hidden pressure plate in the floor beneath him.

"Damn, that was close!" Stiles exclaimed. His eyes darted to the floor, now fully aware of the danger lurking beneath their feet.

"Spikes, huh?" Dante's voice was low and steady, his heart still pounding from the near miss. "Guess this place is more deadly than I first thought."

SteelArm's eyes scanned the area with caution. "Keep your guard up. There's no telling what else is hidden here."

As the three of them advanced cautiously, they noticed more and more pressure plates scattered across the floor. Dante moved first, stepping lightly and precisely, as though he could sense the hidden dangers below. SteelArm followed behind, his heavy footsteps making slight noises, his senses heightened. Stiles moved last, his eyes constantly darting between the ground and the surroundings.

Each step felt like a calculated risk as the trio moved deeper into the dungeon, the threat of unseen traps looming with every corner.

The air seemed to grow even colder as they approached a narrow hallway that stretched further into the building.

There was a slight echo here, as though something large was waiting just beyond their line of sight. The tension in the air thickened, and the oppressive silence made it feel as if the very walls were watching them.

"This place is full of tricks," Dante muttered. "Whatever's down here, it ain't gonna be an easy win... that's for sure."

The group paused for a moment, silently agreeing to continue. SteelArm took the lead now, using his strength to kick open a nearby door that led to another room. As the door creaked open, the group was greeted with the sight of a large chamber.

The floor was covered in dust and rubble, with the remains of old, broken statues littering the space. In the center of the room stood a large stone pedestal with a faint glow coming from it. But what immediately caught their attention was the eerie silence. There were no sounds of creatures, no footsteps, just the quiet hum of the stone.

Dante stepped into the room, eyes scanning for any hidden dangers. He moved cautiously but with purpose, looking for any sign of the Ancient Guardian. His hand instinctively reached for his spear, feeling the weight of it in his grip as he approached the pedestal.

"Get ready," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, with a deep rumble, the ground shook. The large stone doors at the far end of the chamber slammed shut, and the walls began to glow with an eerie red light. The Ancient Guardian's massive stone form began to rise from the shadows, its glowing red eyes flickering to life.

"Looks like we found it," Stiles muttered, unsheathing his blades.

SteelArm cracked his knuckles, the sounds echoing through the chamber. "Let's see what this stone bitch has in store for us."

The Guardian's eyes locking onto them with deadly intent. 

Dante moved first, his feet shifting silently across the dusty floor. His eyes never left the massive Ancient Guardian as it slowly rose from the shadows, its stone body creaking like an old, forgotten titan. The red glow in its eyes intensified, sending a chill through the room.

He sized up the Guardian's towering figure, his mind already working through possible strategies. With a flick of his wrist, Dante dashed forward, his fist moving fast toward the Guardian's chest.

The punch wasn't meant to cause serious damage—it was a test. Just enough force to gauge the Guardian's reaction. His fist connected with the stone body, but as soon as it did, a sudden wave of force hit him. The Guardian's body rippled as the Magical Shield activated, sending a shockwave back at Dante with full force.

The blow wasn't enough to break his stance, but he felt the force of the punch redirected back at him. His teeth clenched as a stinging pain shot through his hand and arm. "Tch." He backed off, eyeing the Guardian carefully as the shield slowly began to dissipate.

Without missing a beat, Dante quickly landed near the others and spoke up.

"The Guardian has a shield. My punch was reflected right back at me. It's most likely got a time limit of a few seconds. If you attack while it's active, you'll get hit with your own force."

He paused, watching as the shield shimmered and vanished, the glow dimming. The Guardian's expressionless face didn't change, but the energy in the room seemed to intensify as the shield dissipated.

"Alright," Dante continued aloud, addressing the group, "That shield isn't permanent. Most likely has a cooldown. Just don't hit it when it's active—stall it out if you can." He kept his gaze locked onto the Guardian, his body tense and ready. "We need to outlast it."

The others nodded in understanding. Stiles gave a quick glance to SteelArm. "So, the plan is to push through with everything we've got until the shield activates, right? Once that happens, we just play it safe—stall, wait it out, and hit hard again when it's gone?"

"Exactly," Dante replied, his eyes narrowing as he observed the Guardian carefully. "That shield's gonna be a pain in the ass if we don't time our shit right."

SteelArm cracked his knuckles, his expression determined. "Let's just make sure we hit hard when it's down."

Dante rushed back in to gauge the Guardian again to see if it had an attack pattern. The moment Dante rushed in, the Guardian's massive stone arm swung forward, aiming a devastating swipe at Dante, but he was already in motion.

His body blurred with speed as he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the massive fist. He didn't stop moving, instead taking the opportunity to analyze the Guardian's movements further. He retreated back to the group afterwards.

"The way it moves... it's slow, but if it hits you, it'll be painful from what I can tell." Dante said under his breath, staring at the stone Guardian. 

Stiles, still holding his twin blades loosely in his hands, tilted his head, considering the plan. "Alright, let's see what happens when we don't give it a chance to breathe."

As they continued to avoid the Guardian's attacks, the oppressive tension in the room built. The silence between their movements was broken only by the sounds of the Guardian's massive footsteps and the occasional clang of its stone fists colliding with the floor.