Chapter 1: The Weakest Hunter
The air was thick with anticipation, the weight of expectations pressing down on Ryo's shoulders as he stood at the precipice of his future. Before him stood the Dungeon entrance—a yawning void of darkness, as if the earth itself was ready to swallow him whole. He gripped the hilt of his sword, its worn edge familiar in his palm, but it offered little comfort. His fingers trembled, not from the cold, but from the sheer magnitude of what lay ahead.
Today was different.
Today, he would either rise or be consumed by the Dungeon.
"Ryo..." Zara's voice cut through the stillness like a blade, her words laced with concern. She stepped up beside him, her boots making no sound on the cracked stone floor, her silver hair shimmering like moonlight. Zara was everything he wasn't—powerful, revered, and feared in equal measure. Her piercing blue eyes studied him, searching for hesitation.
"You don't have to do this," she said, a hint of softness in her usually cold tone. Her gaze never wavered from the abyss before them. "There's no shame in knowing your limits."
Limits.
That word had haunted him for as long as he could remember. In the world of hunters, where strength was everything, Ryo was nothing more than a shadow. The weakest of the weak, the one who would always be left behind. His peers had made it clear, time and time again, that he didn't belong in this world. But they didn't know what it felt like to burn with the desire to prove them wrong. They didn't know what it felt like to want something so desperately that the fear of failure became irrelevant.
He wasn't born into wealth. He didn't have mystical powers or a lineage of legendary warriors behind him. What he had was sheer willpower, something that had kept him alive until now—and something that would see him through, even if everyone else doubted him.
"I'm not asking for mercy," Ryo said, his voice low but unwavering. He turned to face her, meeting her gaze. "I'm not asking for anyone's approval. I just want to show them… that I'm more than the label they gave me."
Zara's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable. She knew the risks. She knew that many before him had tried, and failed, to conquer what lay within. But she also knew Ryo, and there was something in his eyes—a determination, a stubbornness—that couldn't be ignored.
"If you do this, Ryo… There's no turning back," she warned, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Her touch, though soft, carried the weight of years of training and survival. "You're not just stepping into a Dungeon. You're stepping into a nightmare."
Ryo nodded, his heart thundering in his chest, but his resolve was unshakable. He had been told that he was nothing. That he would never rise above mediocrity. But today, that would change.
Zara studied him for a moment longer before giving a curt nod. "Then make it count. But remember this—if you fall, I'll be there. You won't face this alone."
Her words, though comforting, only hardened his resolve further. He wasn't doing this for Zara or anyone else. He was doing this for himself.
With one final glance at the towering entrance, Ryo stepped forward. His footfalls echoed through the hollow silence, each one a declaration of his defiance. Inside the Dungeon, the world was not just dark—it was alive. The very walls seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, the shadows stretching and shifting as though they were waiting for him.
The deeper he went, the heavier the silence became. It was suffocating. Every step forward felt like an eternity, and every corner turned held the promise of something worse. He could almost feel the eyes of the creatures watching him, waiting for him to make the first mistake.
The sound of claws scraping against stone echoed in the distance. A soft growl reached his ears, sending a chill down his spine. He froze. The beast was near.
He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat. His sword, a crude and jagged thing compared to the masterwork blades of the elite hunters, felt even more inadequate now. But it was all he had.
Then, it appeared. From the shadows, the creature emerged—a massive, hulking thing with claws like daggers and eyes that glowed an unnatural red. It was a Beast of the Depths, a creature of nightmare, the kind that hunters whispered about in fear. Its size was enough to dwarf Ryo completely, and its breath reeked of death and decay.
For a heartbeat, they stood frozen, staring each other down. Ryo's heart pounded in his chest, his pulse like thunder. The Beast took a slow, deliberate step forward, its growl vibrating through the stone walls. Then, with a roar that shattered the silence, it lunged.
Time slowed. Every instinct in Ryo's body screamed at him to run, to flee like the coward he was. But there was no escape this time.
He was the weakest hunter. He had always been the one left behind, the one they laughed at. But now, in the face of this monster, there was no turning back.
With a yell, Ryo swung his sword, not with skill, but with the raw desperation of someone who had nothing left to lose.
The blade met the beast's flesh with a sickening crunch.