The sky darkened.
Zairon stood alone before the entrance of a b-rank dungeon, one known for its unrelenting chaos—the Thousand Fang Hollow. Whispers of fear surrounded the place, where even teams of elites never returned. But he didn't need a team.
He was the team.
"A thousand B-rank beasts…" Zairon smirked, dragging his blade across the ground. "Perfect. Let's end this in ten."
The gates burst open—and like a tide, the beasts poured out. Wolves with bone-plated armor, serpents with lightning tongues, tigers with molten claws, and gargoyle-like winged fiends—all roaring, all hungry.
And yet… he stepped forward.
"Come. I'm your feast."
The battlefield erupted.
Zairon darted through them like a phantom—his blade danced like lightning. But even as dozens fell, more came. He didn't stop.
Blood sprayed. Dust rose.
Then—he stopped.
He held his blade high, eyes cold and wild.
"You want chaos? Here's your chaos."
"CRIMSON CRESCENT SLASH!!"
A massive arc of blazing crimson energy erupted from his sword, tearing through the earth and sky. It howled like a vengeful god, sweeping across the battlefield in a storm of raw destruction.
Hundreds of beasts died instantly.
Limbs flew. Craters formed. The very terrain cracked and shattered beneath the force. Screams were drowned in the roar of energy. The remaining beasts trembled.
Zairon stepped through the carnage, eyes glowing, aura erupting.
Ding! You have leveled up to A Rank.
Behind him, far from the battlefield, back at the Legion's base…
The egg pulsed violently.
It drank the waves of destruction—the battle aura, the cries of beasts, the echo of that monstrous slash.
And then—crack.
A small line appeared on the surface of the egg, glowing faintly with red energy… as if responding to the crimson slash.
It was beginning.
The beast… had heard the call of war. And it was waking up.