It was a ruckus outside of the ALCRAN Academy's Dungeon Hunting Grounds for the graduating students, encased with the noise from men, women, and equipment being moved all around.
The vicinity was now surrounded by a raging crowd—many who had come to witness the birth of newly awakened legends. Or so they believed.
The population ranged from journalists, reporters, and health officials who were ready with their ambulances, to civilians who had come to witness the event themselves, and even some of the Academy's officials.
Professor Kresha had his face covered in cold sweat, his throat had gone dry as he watched the live display of the dungeon hunt from his phone.
This was a privilege given to every single person in the world who, for one, downloaded the ALCRAN Academy Streaming App. And with the next-level technology available on the app, it linked to each student's system, displaying a third-person view of all that was happening around them and what they saw.
With this, the entire world was able to view the dungeon hunt as though they were there—as though they were the students.
Kresha had been spectating through his device, watching all the S-ranked students and their hunts eagerly, to see how well accustomed they had gotten with their abilities. He had to say, he was impressed by their strength.
It was a year filled with talent, he thought.
At least that was what everyone had in mind—until the spawn of the devil decided to destroy their introspection.
That moment came when the S-ranked students encountered the Dungeon King—the Ice Banshee.
At first, they seemed to have the upper hand, outnumbering the monster and seemingly landing a number of fatal attacks. It seemed as though they would win. Still, life was too devious to grant such an easy victory.
That was when the performance of the students went downhill.
They were beaten, outmatched, and should have lost their lives…
It was at this point that Kresha was about to make a decision—to enter the dungeon and help. He knew if he did, it would ruin the name of the academy, probably cost him his job and more. Nonetheless, knowing that if he didn't, they would all die—that was something Kresha could not have on his conscience, no matter how selfish he was.
With his mind made up, he began moving forward and—
"Kresha, what is this?"
Before he could move forward, he felt a light tug on his shirt from one of his colleagues who had been invested in the dungeon raid all this while.
At first, Kresha was offended, wanting to yell at his colleague for his heartlessness—or just because he had stopped him before he could even start.
Although Kresha was soon dumbfounded by what happened next.
His colleague showed him his device, and all he could see was hot steam—or more appropriately, the mist from the ice as it melted. Then a scream…
"Drake!"
One from a female, and the other a male.
Kresha was dumbstruck. He literally had no idea what was happening, seeing two of his best students walk across the battlefield as if nothing had happened—as if the King was no longer alive. A place where they had almost lost their lives, now they were casually calm...
Kresha had not yet figured out the hint. Until the two students reached Drake, who sat exhausted on the ground, in a large crater. That was when he began to grasp what had happened.
"The boss has been defeated… but how?" Kresha spoke with excitement—maybe too much, as he struggled to hide it. But he immediately regained his composure, not wanting to sound foolish.
The other professor had a look of glee on his face, and also, a hint of bewilderment on his visage. "That's the thing, I—I don't know."
Kresha was even more dumbfounded. "Then what the hell happened?"
In the next moment, the mighty purple portal trembled with a violent crackle in the air that drew everyone's attention back to the real matter in front of them.
The purple tear in reality.
They froze for a while and waited, the health agencies already breaking out their strangely designed stretchers to assist any student that needed serious medical help.
They all knew what the crackle meant in a portal… the dungeon was cleared.
Before long, the sky above began to change color... No, that wasn't it—the strange hue around the place began to disperse, and soon the blue skies were what remained.
With the normal light from the sun shining down on the place, this now truly looked like a ruined city.
The masses continued to wait, their eyes now fixed on the portal and no longer on their devices, eager to catch a glimpse of the newly awakened. Well, they didn't have to wait too long.
One after another, an awakened stepped out of the portal, all looking drained, shivering cold, and pale—as though they had taken baths in ice-cold water for hours on end.
If they weren't awakened, they surely would have died hours ago.
Those who had lost consciousness or were seriously injured were carried by others, though there weren't many of them—thanks to the high-ranked awakened who had protected the students.
The high-ranked awakened were the only ones to exit the portal with a harsh demeanor rather than petrified or hopeful to leave that hellhole of a dungeon.
So, naturally, they became the target of the media team present there.
They were immediately swarmed by the numbers. Many rushed to be interviewed by the press, while a few others were taken by the paramedics to treat their severe injuries.
Tessa, with Drake on her back and Kyle at the front making way for them through the crowd of reporters, moved away from the awakened until they reached one of the paramedic teams.
"Please, take care of him," Tessa said to the woman in lead.
She immediately nodded and ordered two of her subordinates to take Drake off Tessa's back.
They did so and placed him on the floating stretcher. Immediately as Drake's body settled on it, the blue-like material began to wriggle.
It was a strange feeling for Drake, since this was the first time he had been on a stretcher—it felt as though it was swallowing him into its depths, as though he was being submerged into water.
It didn't take long before he started to feel weaker, being pulled in by exhaustion... and finally, his eyelids began to dim, slowly but surely...
And then he fell asleep—with the last thing he saw being a reporter pushing the mic toward his lips and screaming—
"Did you kill the Ice Banshee?—"
What? What does he mean by that? Didn't he watch the livestream?
And with that, Drake was out.
Authors note
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