Chapter 24: Baptism of the First Dungeon
Delhi, once on the verge of collapse after the sealing of India's divine flow, now stood as a bastion of organized strength—thanks to one man: the Monkey Saint.
Tooth and nail, he had fought. Rallying scattered hunters. Holding back waves of monsters. Turning chaos into strategy. He led them to battle, expanded territory inch by inch, and established the Delhi Safe Zone. As power stabilized and constellations reawakened, hunters began to form guilds. The city swelled, sector by sector, until five guilds emerged to control the five cardinal regions of Delhi.
In the East, where fire burned brightest and belief in Agni was strongest, stood the Flamebearer Guild. Raj's guild.
To the West, steeped in tradition and scholarly magic, ruled the Celestial Thesis Guild, avatars of Saraswati and constellations tied to knowledge and arcana.
The North was might incarnate—controlled by the Titan Guild, whose members were avatars blessed with monstrous strength.
To the South, the gentle hands of the Ayurdhara Guild prevailed. Devotees of Ganga and Dhanvantari. Their healing and alchemical skills saved more lives than any sword.
And in the Center, where chaos and independence mingled, was the Monkey Saint's own domain—a gathering of freelancers, mercenaries, and unaffiliated hunters bound by loyalty more than structure.
Today, I was headed into the heart of Flamebearer territory, where the streets burned with passion and pride.
The East had its own energy. As we drove deeper into it, the temperature subtly shifted. Not from the weather—but from the very mana in the air. It shimmered, dry and fierce, like the breath of a forge.
Buildings gleamed red and gold. Banners of fire-themed insignias fluttered over tiled rooftops. The scent of incense, charred meat, and burning herbs drifted through marketplaces lined with stalls selling flame-resistant gear, fire crystals, and heat-based monster parts.
At the district's center stood a ring of blackened towers with ember-lit windows—the Flamebearer Guild Headquarters. Jagged like obsidian fangs, they exuded authority.
"Looks like home," Raj muttered.
I glanced at him. "You planning to stay in the guild forever?"
He smirked, eyes still fixed on the road. "At first, I thought about heading into the wilds. Making a name on the frontier. Establishing a free zone like the early guilds. But that takes serious capital. Investors, logistics, alliances. And I don't like sharing power. So, I'm holding out for Rank 6. Once I'm strong enough, I'm throwing myself into the World Seed conflict. There's a lot of interest there—and I want my share."
"World seed nurturing isn't easy. At least, that's what HunterNet says."
Raj laughed. "That's a long way off for you. Don't get caught in the intricacies now. Focus on surviving today."
The vehicle stopped in front of a fenced-off zone, about 100 square meters wide. Two hunters in Flamebearer colors stood guard at the entrance, relaxed until they spotted Raj.
Their postures straightened instantly.
"Sir Rajan," one of them greeted with a nod, before turning to me. "First-timer?"
Raj handed them a clearance scroll.
The hunter glanced over it, nodded again. "You're cleared. Be careful. That dungeon's earned its name."
We stepped inside.
At the center of the clearing stood a rift—a seven-meter-high oval of swirling black mist, outlined by dark, twisting smoke. The portal pulsed gently, like a heartbeat in the void.
"This is a stable dungeon," Raj began. "One of three core dungeon types. These act like self-sustaining pockets of a dimension. Monsters are born, hunted, reborn. It's a cycle. Stable, profitable, perfect for training."
"What are the other types?" I asked, watching the portal churn.
"Explosive dungeons," Raj said, his tone growing more serious. "They appear without warning, pouring out monsters like a tipped bucket. Uncontrolled, volatile. World Seeds help prevent those."
"And the last?"
"Transformative. Rarest and most dangerous. They not only unleash monsters but also fuse the dungeon's environment with Earth. Like the very dimension merges into ours. That's how wild zones are born."
I nodded, absorbing his words.
"This one," Raj said, "is infamous. Death's Whisper. Known for pushing first-time entrants to the brink. It senses potential… and drags it out by force. Some say the dungeon itself is alive. Not literally. But close."
The air grew heavier as we neared the portal.
A chill crept into my skin.
My heartbeat quickened.
Raj placed a hand on my shoulder. "Nervous?"
"A little," I admitted.
"Good. That means you're sane. Don't try to prove anything. Survive, adapt, grow. I'll shadow you. Won't interfere unless you're about to die."
I nodded again, slower this time.
I activated my armor.
Mana surged around me.
A violet dhoti with crimson lining enveloped my legs, glowing softly. A brownish-gold chestplate formed over my torso, etched with swirling sigils. My bracers and greaves glimmered as mana veins spread across them. Around my neck, the mana bead pulsed steadily within its necklace.
Then Ashratal appeared in my grip.
The halberd hummed—eager.
I inhaled deeply, mana flowing through my veins.
This was it.
My first true step.
"Show the world," Raj said. "Or at least, show yourself."
I faced the portal. The shadows danced like they recognized me.
I took one step forward.
Then another.
And with a final breath, I plunged into the dark.
The world rippled.
And my trial began.