Three days later, Marco woke up early and began training his physical body—squats, push-ups, and his usual thirty-kilometer run from Sundervale to the neighboring city of Delvehold. Delvehold was a city of miners, recorded as the place with the greatest volume of labyrinths in the kingdom.
Marco turned along the riverside path and ran toward Delvehold. The city was already in sight when, suddenly, a violent explosion erupted, and a powerful shockwave slammed into him, nearly throwing him off balance.
"What's going on in Delvehold?" he asked himself.
He switched from jogging to a full sprint. Within moments, he reached the town. People were fleeing in panic as adventurers rushed toward the source of the blast, rescuing those trapped beneath rubble and evacuating civilians.
"What happened?" Marco asked, stopping a man who was running past him.
"A labyrinth is rupturing in the central square! Only boss monsters are pouring out of the gate!"
"Run away from here!" the man shouted before disappearing into the crowd, fear gripping his voice.
I'm over thirty kilometers away from home, Marco thought.
And there's a labyrinth rupture here.
I didn't even bring my sword… and I'm still just a lad.
He turned a major corner and reached the main square. It was an all-out battle between adventurers and monsters. Due to the overwhelming influx of enemies, the adventurers were slowly being pushed back.
"What could cause this?" Marco wondered as he focused and extended his senses. The flow of mana told him everything he needed to know—the monsters' levels were far higher than those of the adventurers fighting them.
As he assessed the situation, an adventurer was suddenly hurled through the air toward him. Marco caught her just in time. A red-bronze sword was still clenched in her hand, its blade chipped and stained.
The monster she had been fighting—a red orc—turned its gaze toward them and began to advance.
Marco quickly carried her aside and laid her down behind the remains of a shattered wall. He checked her pulse and breathing.
"She's only unconscious… she'll live," he muttered.
His eyes drifted back to the sword. After a brief hesitation, he picked it up.
The red orc bellowed, its roar shaking the ground as it charged straight at him.
"The labyrinth has collapsed, Guild Master Damian!"
A mage in blue robes burst into the office, his voice shaking as another tremor rattled the walls. Shelves shuddered, and dust rained from the ceiling.
Damian rose from his seat at once.
"Veronica," he said sharply, already striding forward, "gather all adventurers ranked C and above. We move immediately."
His voice carried absolute authority.
Damian was a young man in his late twenties, with neatly kept blond hair and a slim, well-trained build. His sharp green eyes narrowed—not in fear, but in irritation at the chaos unfolding outside.
"Yes, Guild Master." Veronica replied without hesitation.
Moments later, Damian, Veronica, and the adventurers he had summoned pushed through the guild hall and headed straight for the central square, where the tremors were growing stronger by the second.
As they reached the central square, Damian's eyes widened.
A boy was bending down, lifting a red bronze sword from the rubble.
Across from him, a red orc lowered its stance and charged.
"Don't—!" Damian shouted.
The boy's attention flicked toward the voice for just a heartbeat.
Tch… people are watching. I don't want to stand out, Marco thought.
In one swift motion, he tugged off his armband and pulled it up over the lower half of his face, concealing his features.
"Wait—!" Damian barked, stepping forward.
It was too late, Marco had shifted into a form-up stance.
His posture was calm—almost careless—but every muscle was coiled with precision. When the red orc thundered forward, its massive frame tearing through debris, Marco moved with only the smallest adjustment of his feet.
A tilt to the left, the orc's charge grazed past him, missing by a hair's breadth, Damian froze.
The red orc is a B-rank monster, infamous for its unavoidable charge. Even seasoned adventurers struggled to evade it head-on—yet this boy had slipped past with nothing more than a subtle shift.
Again, the orc roared and lunged, again Marco evaded It was almost… effortless.
Like the ox play in Spain, Marco mused, memories surfacing as he continued to sidestep each assault by the narrowest margin.
"Impossible…" Damian said as he swallowed.
The orc finally skidded to a halt, its chest heaving as it sucked in air. Marco's gaze flicked to the ground beside him. A shattered timber—thick, heavy, nearly the size of a club—lay half-buried in rubble.
"This is getting boring," Marco muttered under his breath.
He raised a hand.
"Umbra Wind — Light Flow."
A whisper of darkened wind spiraled outward. Rubble lifted. The broken timber snapped free and shot forward like a launched projectile.
The orc caught it midair and bellowed triumphantly.
Gripping the makeshift weapon, it charged again, swinging wildly—each blow aimed at Marco's head, ribs, and spine,
Marco vanished.
"Shadow Step." He said as he split.
Afterimages bloomed across the square—one every heartbeat, then two, then many more—each moving independently, each indistinguishable from the real body.
The orc faltered, snarling in confusion as it swung at phantoms.
Damian's breath caught.
"That technique…" he murmured,
"even Lorena—the S-rank adventurer—could only produce six afterimages at her peak..."
Damian counted without meaning to.
"…Eight—no, twelve—"His eyes widened.
"Thirty-six…?" he finished, the square was encircled, Marco's shadows closed in from all directions. In an instant, they struck, three waves—Twelve strikes per wave.
The orc howled, staggering as it tried to flee— too late.
The real Marco stepped forward, his bronze blade humming as space itself bent along its edge and movement.
"Void Slash." He said
The sword transformed—its edge stretching into a thin seam of distorted reality, one clean arc and silence followed.
The orc collapsed, its massive body splitting, the dust settled. Damian stood frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. By the time he recovered, the boy had already turned away.
Marco met Damian's gaze for a single heartbeat—Then vanished into the chaos of the city.
"wait!!" Damian shouted but Marco was long gone.
In under five minutes, Marco employed Void Step, moving like a tear in space itself. Each time a boss monster emerged from the gate, it fell before it could even roar—its life stolen in silence, its defeat snatched from the stunned adventurers.
By the time they realized what was happening, only one remained.
The final monster collapsed directly before the labyrinth gate.
The gate shimmered violently, overflowing with condensed mana. Arcs of energy crackled outward, reacting to Marco's presence like lightning seeking ground. The surge raced across his body, crawling over his skin and surging into the bronze sword in his hand.
The blade shuddered, then it disintegrated into fine dust.
"Aww…" Marco sighed, staring at the empty hilt. "I was just about to name that sword." He gently placed the hilt on the ground.
"We'll take it from here." The voice echoed with authority, a spear slammed into the stone floor inches from Marco's feet, the impact sending cracks racing outward.
Marco flinched and turned, a red-haired woman stepped forward. Her sharp green eyes scanned him from head to toe. She stood around five-foot-four, her slim, athletic frame honed by battle. Shorts and tactical belts wrapped her waist, knives secured neatly at her sides.
Adventurers gathered behind her, their weapons ready.
"And who are you?" she demanded, Marco glanced around at the growing numbers.
"This is becoming troublesome," he thought.
"A passing wind," he replied, lowering his voice unnaturally, He shifted his stance subtly, already mapping his escape routes.
"Since you're here," he continued, "I'll be taking my leave."
Before anyone could react, his body blurred— vanishing like mist.
"Wait!" Damian shouted, rushing into the square from another street, Veronica close behind, dozens of adventurers in tow.
But the wind had already passed, "Lorena?" Damian's voice caught in surprise.
"Why are you here?" he added, scanning the red-haired woman before him.
"I activated the teleport bracelet the moment I learned about the rupture," she replied, stretching a hand toward her spear. It wriggled in the air like a living thing before snapping free and flying into her grasp.
"Do you by chance know that mysterious boy?" Lorena asked, her sharp green eyes narrowing.
"I only saw him in town while the rupture was happening," Damian answered.
"He… single-handedly fought off all the boss monsters using a red bronze sword?" Lorena's voice rose in disbelief after Damian explained to her, Damian nodded.
"Yes. Boss monsters—level A+ and B+." Her eyes widened further. "He did that?"
"Yes," Damian confirmed.
"Before we worry about that," Lorena said, voice firm,
"we need to clear the labyrinth."
Lightning crackled violently from the shimmering gate. The surge was ferocious, striking buildings and sending debris flying. All around, adventurers dove for cover as the gate's energy writhed like a living storm.
I knew something was off when the gate didn't disappear after he cleared all the boss monsters, Marco thought, watching the scene unfold from a tower near the square.
The gate pulsed violently again, and a massive reptilian hand shot outward, dark claws glinting like blades.
Don't tell me… a legendary SS-rank Reptilian Foreman, Marco murmured to himself.
A towering creature emerged, nearly nine feet tall, clad in a breastplate and protective gear, gripping a colossal great sword in its clawed hands. Its glowing eyes scanned the square, landing on Lorena, Damian, and the guild members surrounding the gate.
It roared—a sound so deep and feral that lower-level adventurers froze, paralyzed with fear.
There we go… let's see how this unfolds, Marco muttered under his breath.
From her mana, she's at the peak of S-rank… but this monster has the Berserk skill. If I don't help, it could be life-threatening for them.
A small, sharp smile crept across his face,
This should be fun, he added quietly, his eyes glinting as he readied himself.