The First Hunt

I should have listened to my gut.

The moment I stepped into the Rank B Gate, something was off. Not just the usual unease that came with Rift dives—this was different. Heavier. The air was thick with mana, pressing against my skin like invisible chains. The dungeon stretched before us in eerie silence, obsidian walls laced with pulsing blue veins of energy. Every breath I took felt wrong, as if something unseen was coiling around my lungs, waiting. Watching.

The guild had welcomed me with little hesitation. A D-Rank like me was useful, if only as cannon fodder.

Rogan Vale, the raid captain, was a bear of a man—scarred, hardened, and seasoned by years in the Rift. The moment his sharp eyes landed on me, he smirked.

"D-Rank, huh?" His voice carried an edge of amusement. "You'll be on crystal duty."

That suited me just fine. I wasn't here to prove anything—just to observe, to learn, to test the System's gifts without drawing attention.

But the deeper we ventured, the stronger my unease grew.

The monsters fell too easily.

Gargoyle Sentinels—hulking, stone-skinned monstrosities—crumbled under the team's coordinated attacks. Their dying shrieks echoed off the cavern walls, their mana-rich cores spilling onto the ground in shimmering fragments.

I stayed at the back, retrieving crystals, keeping my head down. Watching.

And that's when I noticed it—the stolen glances, the hushed whispers.

The Rifters exchanged knowing looks, smirks hidden behind raised weapons. Their eyes flickered toward me, measuring, weighing.

Like they knew something I didn't.

Then we reached the Gate Boss's chamber.

A massive iron door loomed before us, etched with ancient runes that pulsed with sickly green light. The wrongness in the air thickened, pressing against my skull like a vice.

"This is it," Rogan muttered, resting his axe on his shoulder. "Let's finish this and get paid."

I didn't trust him.

Then the doors groaned open.

The Shadowfang Wyvern was a monster ripped from nightmares—towering, its obsidian scales reflecting the dim light like jagged glass. Eyes like burning coals locked onto us, and when it roared, the entire chamber trembled.

The battle was chaos.

Steel clashed. Spells ignited the air in violent bursts of power. The wyvern's tail lashed out, shattering stone pillars like they were twigs.

I stayed back, tracking movements, studying patterns. The team was skilled, disciplined.

And when the beast finally collapsed, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

It was over.

Or so I thought.

A second passed. Then another.

The dungeon didn't collapse.

Something was wrong.

I turned—just in time to see Rogan's axe cleave through a man's chest.

Blood sprayed across the cavern floor. A D-Rank Rifter—a girl barely older than me—let out a strangled gasp, her fingers twitching as she crumpled to the ground.

My stomach dropped.

The System's warning blared in my head.

[WARNING: Immediate Threat Detected.]

I barely registered the message before another body hit the ground.

Screams echoed. The weaker Rifters—the ones who hadn't fought—were being slaughtered.

I stumbled back, heart hammering.

Rogan's axe came down, fast and brutal, a blur of steel and death.

I barely had time to react.

[Combat Skill Activated: Evasion (Lv. 2 → Lv. 3)]

My body moved before my mind caught up—twisting hard, rolling to the side just as the massive blade slammed into the ground where I had stood. A shockwave of dust and shattered stone blasted outward. The sheer force rattled my bones, heat licking at my skin as the air itself hissed from the impact.

Too close. Way too close.

I hit the ground in a crouch, my fingers already closing around the hilt of my dagger.

Around me, the hunters closed in—their movements tight, practiced, like a pack of wolves cornering prey. Their weapons gleamed under the dungeon's eerie blue glow.

This wasn't panic. This was a slaughter planned from the start.

And now, I was next.

Rogan grinned, towering over me, his battle-worn armor spattered with the blood of those he'd already cut down. His eyes held no remorse, no hesitation—just greed.

"Nothing personal," he said, voice calm, almost amused. "Smaller split means more for the rest of us."

He adjusted his grip, muscles coiling.

Then he lunged.

[Combat Skill Acquired: Combat Instincts (Lv. 1)]

A sharp jolt shot through my skull, like lightning setting my nerves on fire. My vision sharpened—every twitch, every shift in movement, the way Rogan's left foot dug into the dirt just before he swung—I saw it all.

The axe came for my neck, a killing blow.

I moved.

I ducked, my breath burning in my throat as I twisted low, the massive blade whistling past my skull so close I felt the wind shear through my hair. Rogan's momentum carried him forward—just enough of an opening.

I struck.

My dagger lashed out, fast and precise, slicing through the exposed gap in his armor near his ribs.

[Skill Activated: Adaptive Combat Learning.]

The blade sank deep.

A snarl ripped from Rogan's throat, his arm jerking instinctively. But I was already moving, pulling the dagger free in a single fluid motion. Blood sprayed, hot against my skin.

But he didn't go down.

Instead, he roared, staggering back, his free hand clamping over the wound. Not fatal. Not enough.

The other hunters surged forward, their weapons flashing in the dim glow.

Too many.

I pivoted, shifting to survival mode, my every nerve alive with the System's guidance.

A sword came for my side. I twisted—just a fraction of a second too slow.

[Enhanced Reflexes (Lv. 2 → Lv. 3)]

The blade grazed my shoulder. A sharp, searing pain tore through me, but my body was already reacting. No hesitation. No wasted movement.

I drove my dagger upward—straight into the attacker's throat.

His eyes went wide. Gurgling. Choking. Blood flooded from the wound as he staggered back, clutching his neck.

[Experience Gained: +40 EXP.]

Another came from behind—I felt it before I saw it.

I pivoted, just in time to see the next hunter swing a longsword in a deadly arc toward my head.

Too fast to block.

Not fast enough to kill me.

I twisted, dropping low, feeling the blade slice through air just inches above my scalp.

My dagger flashed upward—once, twice.

First into his ribs, then his jugular.

His body collapsed before he even understood he was dead.

Two down.

My lungs burned, my heartbeat a war drum in my ears. But there was no time to stop.

Rogan was already moving again.

His axe came for me in a horizontal cleave—a strike meant to tear straight through my torso.

[Threat Level: B-Rank Boss Identified.]

[System Assistance Recommended.]

I barely managed to shift my stance, my arms crossing up to block—

Pain exploded through me.

The impact fractured bone, the sheer force of the hit launching me backward. I crashed into the ground, the breath ripped from my lungs. Agony lanced through my arm.

Rogan loomed over me, grinning.

"You're hiding something," he mused, lifting his axe again. "Let's see what you—"

The System flared.

[Emergency Skill Activation: Shadow Step (Lv. 1)]

Darkness coiled around me.

In an instant, I wasn't there anymore.

I reappeared behind him.

His eyes widened.

I drove my dagger deep into his back, twisting the blade as I ripped it upward.

Rogan howled, staggering forward. Not dead—but wounded.

I pressed the attack.

My blade sliced across his hamstring, cutting through muscle, tendon, bone.

He dropped to one knee, cursing, his axe trembling in his grip.

"Y-you little—"

[Critical Strike Available.]

I lunged.

My dagger plunged into his throat.

Blood gushed. His body convulsed, fingers clawing at his own neck, desperate, panicked.

His mouth opened—a dying breath, a final curse.

I didn't let him finish.

I wrenched the blade free.

Rogan Vale, Raid Captain of the Crimson Rift, collapsed.

The System pinged.

[B-Rank Target Eliminated.]

[Experience Gained: +200 EXP.]

[Level Up: 2 → 3.]

I stood there, panting, blood dripping from my fingertips.

The chamber was silent.

The corpses of the traitors lay motionless around me.

I swallowed hard, my entire body aching, burning—but I was still standing.

The System display updated.

Kael Draven

Rank: D-Rank

Level: 3

Title: Rift Survivor

Health (HP): 40 / 180

Stamina (SP): 15 / 120

ÑMana (MP): 10 / 70

Skills Upgraded:

- Evasion (Lv. 4)

- Enhanced Reflexes (Lv. 3)

- Combat Instincts (Lv. 2)

I clenched my fists, watching black tendrils coil around my fingers.

I had survived.

I wasn't weak. Not anymore.

Then—

A low, thunderous growl rumbled through the chamber.

I turned.

The Shadowfang Wyvern's form was twisting, obsidian scales splitting apart as veins of crimson light pulsed beneath its flesh.

Its dull, lifeless eyes ignited—a firestorm of pure, relentless hunger.

The Gate wasn't closing.

The real Gate Boss had just awakened.

I exhaled.

My fear was gone.