CH8-: Entering The Dungeon

The sun rose over Neonsvale City, casting a crimson glow across the skyline like the herald of a battlefield soon to be drenched in blood and triumph.

Today was the day.

The final day before Peerless Guild once mocked, once overlooked would etch its name into history.

Inside the towering glass fortress that served as the guild's headquarters, the atmosphere crackled with electricity. Hunters from all across the organization, from seasoned S-Rank veterans to newly promoted C-Rank hopefuls, gathered in the central atrium, their armor gleaming under the morning light.

Kyle Nyeku stood at the forefront, clad in lightweight, enchanted battle gear, a black cloak draped across his shoulders like a king preparing for war. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with the quiet fire of unshakable resolve.

Behind him, massive supply crates lined the walls, each stamped with the Peerless Guild insignia. At Kyle's signal, the crates were opened and gasps filled the room.

Inside were weapons of a quality few hunters ever laid eyes on outside of national exhibitions.

Glistening S-Rank swords, bows strung with threads of soulsteel, axes that shimmered with bottled thunder. Shields forged from dragonbone, armor woven with phoenix feather threads. Defensive gear capable of nullifying at least fifty percent of the damage from even a full-powered assault.

The hunters surged forward, their eyes wide with disbelief and awe. Whispers rippled through the ranks like a living wave.

"These are S-Rank...!"

"I've only ever seen one of these in an auction house!"

"Are those... holy-tier pills?!"

It wasn't just the gear.

Piled beside the weapons were vials of luminous potions S-Rank Recovery Pills so potent they could regrow limbs lost in battle within minutes. Magic cores filled with raw energy, capable of boosting a hunter's strength, speed, or magic output for precious, life-saving moments.

Each item was a promise.

A promise that Peerless Guild was not marching into death unprepared.

A promise that this expedition was different.

That they were different.

All of it was made possible because of the massive investment Keifer Shedex had poured into the guild, thinking he had outsmarted a naïve young man.

In truth, it was Kyle who had outplayed the game.

Standing atop a small podium at the front, Kyle raised a hand, and silence rippled through the assembly.

Hundreds of hunters, brimming with expectation, turned their eyes to him.

Kyle let the silence linger, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all, forging a bond that would be needed in the battles to come.

Then, he spoke.

"Our name," Kyle said, his voice firm and carrying to the farthest reaches of the atrium, "has been mocked. Laughed at. Dismissed."

Murmurs stirred among the crowd, bitter memories of slights and humiliation bubbling to the surface.

"Peerless Guild," Kyle continued, his voice rising, "has been called reckless. Weak. Doomed."

He paused, letting those words hang in the air like a brand.

"And yet, here you stand," he said, sweeping his gaze across the sea of faces. "Here we stand. Ready to do what none of them dared. Ready to seize a future so brilliant that the world will have no choice but to acknowledge us."

The hunters straightened unconsciously, their pride swelling with every word.

Kyle's hand closed into a fist.

"Tomorrow, we take the dungeon. We defeat the boss that even the top guilds have avoided. And when we emerge victorious we will not just be another name in the crowd."

He thrust his fist into the air.

"We will be the rulers of the dungeon! The guild that conquers the unconquerable!"

A thunderous roar erupted from the hunters, their voices shaking the very walls.

"Peerless! Peerless! Peerless!"

Kyle smiled, a hard, feral edge to his satisfaction.

Today, they were not C-Rank, B-Rank, A-Rank, or even S-Rank.

Today, they were Peerless.

And tomorrow... the world would know it too.

As the guild moved out, banners snapping in the wind, the crimson sunrise bled across the sky an omen of the blood, the glory, and the destiny awaiting them in the heart of the dungeon.

AT THE CENTRAL DUNGEON PLAIN.

The portal shimmered at the center of the clearing, a swirling vortex of light and shadow, humming with barely contained energy. It loomed like a gate to another world a world where glory and death walked hand in hand.

Hunters from Peerless Guild stood shoulder to shoulder before it, their faces set with grim determination. The moment of departure had come.

But they weren't alone.

All around the clearing, the press had gathered in droves. Hundreds of reporters, cameramen, and drones buzzed like flies, desperate to capture this historic moment.

The world was watching.

Front and center among them was a familiar, flamboyant figure.

Tyrone Gardon, the star reporter of the Evening Daily News, sauntered onto the scene clad not in a simple suit and tie, but in a full Hunter-grade battle suit bright red with silver trim, specially modified to withstand the dangers of dungeon environments.

The crowd of reporters buzzed louder at his arrival, and several cameras immediately swung to capture him.

After all, Tyrone wasn't just any journalist.

He was the only one licensed to enter dungeons and broadcast live from within. Thanks to a custom-designed suit equipped with an embedded camera system and a small squad of safety operators back at headquarters, Tyrone could bring the chaos of dungeon expeditions directly to the public unedited, unfiltered, and uncensored.

Grinning like a man heading to a party rather than a battlefield, Tyrone adjusted his microphone and winked at the nearest camera.

"And here we are, ladies and gentlemen," he drawled in his signature charismatic voice. "Witnessing history or perhaps, witnessing a disaster in slow motion."

The crowd laughed.

Turning slightly, he gestured dramatically to the Peerless Guild members lined up before the portal.

"Our brave friends from the Peerless Guild," Tyrone continued with mock solemnity, "marching gallantly into the unknown... possibly to meet their heroic ends. May their sacrifice be forever remembered in the annals of bad decision-making!"

The comment drew another ripple of laughter from the viewers watching at home.

Yet even through the humor, there was a sharp edge to Tyrone's words.

Peerless Guild was still seen by many as an underdog at best be or a reckless bunch of dreamers at worst.

Just as the banter died down, a sudden ripple passed through the gathered hunters.

Another group had arrived.

The Shadow Clan.

Their presence was like a dark cloud descending upon the clearing.

Clad in matte black armor, their insignia an inverted crescent moon gleamed ominously under the rising sun. They moved with an eerie, disciplined silence, their faces hidden behind featureless masks.

As they approached the portal, the members of Peerless Guild couldn't help but stiffen, their expressions hardening into masks of disdain and mistrust.

Whispers flew among them.

"They're monsters..."

"I heard they killed a whole team just to steal their dungeon loot..."

"Bastards. They shouldn't even be allowed here."

Kyle stepped forward, his calm voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

"Eyes on the mission," he said firmly, turning to address his team. "We came here for the dungeon. Nothing else. If they cross us, we'll deal with it. Until then focus."

The tension that gripped the Peerless Guild eased slightly, replaced by the hard, cold steel of resolve.

They nodded back at Kyle, their leader, their anchor.

They would not be baited.

Not today.

Tyrone, sensing the electric tension between the two guilds, couldn't resist one final jab for his viewers.

"Well, folks," he said cheerfully, the portal's energy reflecting in his visor, "what do you get when you toss a bunch of dreamers and a pack of wolves into a death trap together? Stay tuned! This is gonna be a show you don't wanna miss!"

With that, he laughed, straightened his helmet, and marched confidently into the swirling portal after the hunters.

The world held its breath as, one by one, Peerless Guild and Shadow Clan stepped into the unknown toward a dungeon that promised either unparalleled glory... or complete annihilation.