At first glance, the team's mission differed little from the countless assignments they had undertaken before: the purification of a Rank-B Dimass, a task they had completed many times in the past.
A routine operation—one expected to end with minor wounds, lingering fatigue… and a quiet return to the Guild.
Yet from the very beginning, something felt wrong.
The Dimass, infamous for its dense monster population and relentless hostility, appeared disturbingly empty this time. The creatures they encountered were few in number, pitifully weak—utterly unworthy of the dungeon's classification. One after another, they fell with humiliating ease, like faded imitations of what they were meant to be.
Leo exchanged cautious glances with his companions.
That unnatural silence… was worse than any ambush.
A faint pressure tightened around Leo's chest, an indistinct sense of danger without a visible source. Herald and Borin remained alert, their eyes sweeping across the rocky passages with growing vigilance.
Not everyone, however, shared their concern.
Noro smiled confidently.
"Isn't this a golden opportunity? A Rank-B Dimass at its weakest."
Miera spun her dagger between her fingers and added,
"If we turn back now, we'll look like cowards."
Despite the unease creeping into their hearts, the team pressed forward. Step after step, nothing changed—no true resistance, no visible threat… only a suffocating stillness growing heavier the deeper they ventured.
Until they found it.
A massive gate of dark crimson rose before them like an open wound carved into the heart of the earth. Veins of shadow pulsed across its surface as though alive—breathing slowly. Merely looking at it stirred a profound revulsion, a primal instinct warning that whatever lay beyond was never meant for human eyes.
The team halted.
Opinions split instantly.
"This isn't normal… we're turning back," Herald said firmly.
Borin nodded without hesitation.
But the others—including Leo—felt something different. It wasn't mere curiosity.
Something was calling them.
Leo knew why.
Beyond that gate slept a power this era was never meant to witness again—
a power lost since the end of the Age of Chaos.
Demonic energy.
He felt it clearly—dense, ancient, malicious… like a slumbering being awaiting awakening.
Deep inside, Leo wanted to retreat.
He understood immediately: he was not strong enough to face demons.
Not yet. Not now.
But leaving it untouched could invite catastrophe—disasters beyond imagining. And allowing his companions to walk in unaware was an even greater danger.
He exhaled slowly.
"Beyond this gate… there's demonic energy."
Silence fell.
Shock spread across their faces. To them, demonic power existed only in legends.
Noro asked in disbelief,
"And how do you know that?"
Leo hesitated before answering heavily,
"I can't tell you."
The answer satisfied no one—but it was all they would receive.
"So… what are you going to do?" Herald asked.
Leo fixed his gaze upon the crimson gate.
"I'll kill the demon behind it. But I understand if any of you choose not to fight."
Before silence could reclaim the moment, Herald burst into laughter.
"Why do you look so tense, Leo? We'll go in, kick the demon's ass, and walk right out."
Borin struck his fist into his palm.
"We'll show it our strength."
Despite her fear, Diara smiled.
"Leo… you're not alone."
Miera added confidently,
"We fight together."
And in that moment—though none of them realized it—the bond between them deepened. They were no longer merely a party.
They were comrades facing the unknown as one.
They opened the gate.
What awaited inside froze the blood in their veins.
At the far end of the vast, shadowed chamber sat a figure upon a stone throne, as though it had ruled that place since the dawn of time itself.
A Demonic Baron… of the House of Wrath.
This was not what Leo had expected.
Demonic entities were divided into two kinds:
Mindless demonic beasts, rarely surpassing the Fourth Circle…
—and Demon Nobility, the true calamities.
The weakest among them was a Baron, possessing power reaching the upper limits of the Fifth Circle. Above them stood Viscounts, Counts, Marquises, Dukes…
And above all—
the Seven Deadly Sins, generals of the Demon King himself.
And now…
they stood before a direct subordinate of Wrath.
The Baron rose slowly.
A dense crimson aura erupted from its body—heavy as a mountain, suffocatingly ominous. The team froze where they stood, their instincts as adventurers screaming a single truth:
This enemy… far surpassed them.
Diara collapsed, unconscious beneath the overwhelming mental pressure.
Leo nearly followed—
were it not for the lingering consciousness of the ancient mage, Alofinus, residing within his soul.
He clenched his teeth.
"Prepare yourselves!"
The team assumed battle positions, fully aware that this fight would be unlike anything they had ever faced.
Leo activated a support spell, gentle energy spreading among his companions. Suddenly, their bodies felt lighter—as though invisible chains had shattered.
Herald raised his sword with a roar and charged forward, bringing his blade down with all his strength toward the Baron's head.
And in the next instant—
Silence fell.
Something spun through the air.
It was not the Baron's arm.
It was Herald's.
Every face turned pale as his severed limb rotated slowly through the air… before falling away into darkness.
To be continued…