The path Ethan and Lirael had carved out was already being filled by other B-ranked adventurers. They moved forward in tight formations, shields raised and blades ready. A handful of lower-ranked adventurers—C-ranks and even some reckless Iron ranked mercenaries tried to follow as well.

It was a mistake.

Monsters poured into the path like a living tide. The lower ranks were quickly overwhelmed, shrieks echoing through the chaos. Several B-rankers were forced to break formation, rescuing the struggling adventurers and cutting down the beasts that swarmed them. The entire forward momentum of the main force slowed.

A commander's furious roar carried over the battlefield:

"Any adventurer or mercenary of C and Iron rank or lower who dares follow from here is on their own! If you die, don't expect us to carry the blame—you were already warned! We won't babysit you when there's a crack to deal with! Stay back and hold the monsters attacking the wall! Do your job and the Guild will see you rewarded properly!"

The chastised lower ranks fell back, paling under the weight of the command. The grizzled B-rank officer gave one last glare before turning toward the horde, weapon in hand, and surged forward.

Ethan's gaze followed the man only briefly. He whistled sharply.

Nyxfang, who had just finished tearing apart a scaled serpent, turned its head and bounded back. Ethan swung up onto its back in one fluid motion. Lirael also mounted Seloria with Sylvie already seated behind her, the little healer's hands glowing faintly as she wove restorative magic into wounds before they could worsen.

Together, the two beast companions carved through the battlefield. Nyxfang and Seloria's claws raked through lines of monsters, his fangs snapping bone with every lunge, while arrows whistled past from Lirael's bow, each one carrying deadly precision, felling larger beasts that threatened to slow their advance.

Sylvie's voice rang soft but steady, chanting spells that poured vitality into their wolves. Ethan's mana also patched them, but it was slower compared to Silvies, making them surge with renewed strength. The wolves became a relentless unstoppable force with teeth flashing as they tore down whatever blocked the way.

Ethan didn't sit idle atop Nyxfang either. His blade gleamed with aura. Every wide arc of his swing spilled blood and stamina flooded back into his body. The perk turned every slash into a cycle of endurance, keeping him moving even when others would have slowed.

The slaughter carried on, back and forth, until finally they saw it.

The crack.

It hung in the air ahead, an open wound in the world. Black and red hues swirled together in a nauseating spiral, twisting like smoke and fire fused into one. The very air around it vibrated, humming with a low resonance that made the bones in their bodies ache.

Ethan reined Nyxfang to a halt. His eyes narrowed.

So this… is a dungeon break.

It was his first time seeing one. The sheer unnaturalness of it made his gut clench. The space around the rift bent ever so slightly, as though reality itself were being pulled toward the tear. He caught himself staring, unable to look away.

"They've already gone in," Lirael said firmly. Her voice broke his trance. She gestured to the ground with faint footprints, blood, and disturbed earth showed where the earlier vanguard had disappeared into the rift. "We can't stand here gaping. Move."

Ethan drew in a sharp breath, grounding himself. He nodded. With a thought, Nyxfang and Seloria dissolved back into shadow. The battlefield noises seemed to fade behind them as they stepped toward the swirling crack.

Sylvie's hand found Ethan's arm, her grip small but tight. "Master. It… feels dangerous," she whispered.

Ethan rested his hand over hers briefly. "Stay close and don't let go. We will enter together"

Lirael adjusted her quiver and nocked an arrow then held the pther hand of Silvie "Don't worry we are with you."

Ethan stood before the crack, one hand gripping Sylvie's small fingers, the other hand of hers clasped by Lirael so they would all remain linked. If they entered at the same time, they'd land at the same place. That was the plan.

The rift's black-and-red swirl pulsed, drawing them in like the heartbeat of some monstrous thing.

Then—

A blur of motion at the edge of Ethan's vision.

His instincts screamed. He turned sharply.

Out of the bushes stepped a face he recalled he left broken in the market place. The noble brat—Kent. His lips twisted in a cruel grin, and in his hand gleamed a strange artifact pulsing with runes, pointed directly at Lirael and Sylvie.

Ethan's eyes widened. Damn—!

"Lirae—!" His warning barely left his lips before something slammed into his side like a battering ram. A violent force ripped him from the ground and hurled him toward the crack. The world spun.

His vision flickered, but his gaze locked on the figure standing where he had been.

An elf. Tall and lean. His aura was suffocating. His status plate flickered before Ethan eyes as he activated his skill.

---

Name: Alfred Hall

Age: 467

Race: Elf (Awakened)

Level: 73

Class: Swordsman

---

Seventy-three—?!

Ethan's eyes went wide. Before he could process, the rift swallowed him whole.

"Master!" Sylvie cried out, reaching after him, but her hand was held tight by Lirael.

"Stay close!" Lirael hissed, forcing calm into her voice despite the shock.

Kent's artifact flared. A beam of light burst forth, screaming across the battlefield, aimed straight at them.

Lirael's instincts screamed danger. She shoved Sylvie behind her, raising her bow arm—but the light struck before she could draw.

Kent laughed, a cold, high-pitched sound. "Let's see how your precious protector saves you now." Then, without hesitation, he leapt into the crack.

"Don't let them escape!" a gruff voice barked from behind.

The elf, Alfred, moved with terrifying precision. His hand clamped around Sylvie's wrist like an iron shackle.

Sylvie yelped, struggling. "No—let me go!"

"Throw them in," came the command from the unseen figure behind Alfred. "Before that bastard comes back!"

Lirael's heart pounded. She didn't release Sylvie's hand, tightening her grip instead. Her eyes met the elf's for a split second—cold and emotionless.

Then Alfred swung his arm with effortless force, hurling both girls toward the rift. The world blurred into red and black as the pull of the crack consumed them.

Behind them, Alfred himself stepped in after Kent, followed swiftly by others—shadows and figures rushing headlong into the unknown.

Just a few moment later-

The rift pulsed.

A flare of light erupted—Ethan staggered back out of it, breath ragged, eyes burning with fury. He looked around wildly, but the battlefield was already emptier, their enemies gone.

"Fuck!!!" His roar shook with rage. "Did they just enter with that—a level seventy-three awakened elf?!" His chest heaved, teeth bared. "They were definitely forced. Shit—!"

His grip tightened on his blood-soaked blade. Without hesitation, he spun and threw himself back into the crack, vanishing once more into its swirling chaos.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.