Chapter 9: The Unveiling Darkness

“Alright, then. Here we go.”

Shin Ji-ho nodded, and Seon Tae-woong placed his hand upon the massive door. From his palm, a delicate crimson light began to pulse, spreading outwards in all directions like blood coursing through veins.

It was a spectacle both mesmerizing and deeply ominous.

The moment the crimson light touched every edge of the colossal door, it began to move.

Crafted from massive stone, the door slid open silently, its movement so impossibly light it seemed to defy all laws of physics.

Beyond the threshold, absolute darkness reigned. It was a void so profound, it seemed as though black ink had been poured into the space, swallowing every last particle of light.

No, simply describing it as ‘devoid of light’ failed to capture the true essence of the space beyond.

Both men instinctively sensed that the colossal darkness itself was a living entity, holding its breath, crouching, and subtly pulsating with an unseen life.

Darkness.

And intertwined with that darkness were all things it represented: despair, jealousy, hatred, fear, sickness, death.

It was as if all the evils trapped within Pandora’s box, before it was ever opened, had been confined to this dungeon’s deepest reaches.

Unknowing of the true horror, the two men had unwittingly unsealed that very box.

“Goddammit…”

The fiery fighting spirit that had burned within Tae-woong just moments before was now utterly extinguished, his voice crushed. His body trembled uncontrollably, a pathetic sight.

Shin Ji-ho’s plight, of course, was hardly any different.

“Ugh…”

The despair and terror emanating from the monster burrowed deep into their minds, whispering insidious suggestions of surrender.

It insisted that there was no other option but to give up, right here, right now.

‘This… this cannot be defeated,’ Ji-ho thought.

This monster was unequivocally beyond S-class. It might even transcend the formidable SS-class entirely.

It was a monster of a form never before encountered or reported, its bizarre shape offering no hint of a weakness.

Compounding the terror, it possessed a potent mental domination skill, designed to utterly crush human will from its very roots.

It was utterly impossible to contend with such a foe.

Its extraordinarily high rank was one insurmountable obstacle, but to be completely paralyzed by its fear, unable to resist, made any fight futile.

*Kiiiiieeeek!*

What finally stirred the two petrified men was a spine-chilling screech, like sharpened talons raking across a metal plate.

From the depths of their extreme terror, a primal survival instinct abruptly ignited. Their minds, previously frozen as if doused in icy water, jolted awake.

Yet, their bodies remained stubbornly unresponsive, refusing to obey their desperate wills.

‘Don’t be a fool, move!’ Ji-ho urged himself.

Deciding this was his last hunt was meant to be the end of his career as a hunter, not the end of his life itself. He absolutely refused to stand here, paralyzed by fear, and simply await death.

Shin Ji-ho strained, trying to force his trembling body into motion. His fingertips, quivering uncontrollably, twitched in accordance with his will, then finally managed a small, decisive movement.

With that minuscule flicker of control, freedom surged through his body, which had been as rigidly unresponsive as a broken machine.

Though it felt as if an eternity had stretched on, in reality, only a few agonizing seconds had elapsed. Ji-ho glanced back at Seon Tae-woong, who remained utterly frozen in terror.

Then, gathering every ounce of his strength, he lunged forward, throwing his entire body.

*Kagagak!*

From within the colossal darkness, an invisible shockwave erupted, engulfing the precise spot where the two men had just stood.

Had Ji-ho not seized Tae-woong and thrown their bodies aside, they would have been instantly ripped in two by its devastating force.

“Hey, Seon Tae-woong!”

Ji-ho gritted his teeth and slapped the fallen Tae-woong hard across the cheek. A sharp *smack* echoed, yet Tae-woong’s eyes remained utterly vacant.

Tae-woong was utterly incapable of breaking free from the paralyzing fear on his own.

Indeed, naturally escaping a mental-type skill cast by an enemy of a superior rank was practically an impossibility. The fact that the lower-ranked Ji-ho had so easily shaken off the status effect was, in itself, a minor miracle.

There was no leisure for a gentle awakening. Ji-ho practically scooped Tae-woong into his arms, then leaped, shouting as they moved.

“Snap out of it, Seon Tae-woong! That thing is pure darkness. It will dissipate if we illuminate the surroundings!”

Even amidst such overwhelming disadvantage, Shin Ji-ho refused to relinquish his hope.

Darkness, by its very nature, recedes before light. Fire, the primal illuminator of humanity’s nights before the dawn of industry, was its natural antithesis.

Though this monster was far more formidable than anticipated, Seon Tae-woong held a crucial elemental advantage.

‘If only Seon Tae-woong would just wake up,’ Ji-ho thought desperately.

Clutching the still-unconscious Tae-woong, Ji-ho narrowly evaded an incoming attack, then swiftly pulled a potion from his pocket. There was no time to administer it properly; instead, he slammed the bottle directly onto Tae-woong’s head.

It took two more bottles shattered against his skull before a flicker of lucid light finally returned to Tae-woong’s previously vacant eyes.

“Ah, uh…”

Still moaning dazedly, as if not yet fully lucid, Tae-woong finally focused on Ji-ho and scowled.

In his efforts to protect Tae-woong, their most potent combatant, Ji-ho’s body was now riddled with wounds. Blood, in particular, dropped steadily from a gash on his arm, inflicted while he shielded his companion.

“Damn it.”

Whether out of stubborn pride or sheer mortification, Tae-woong couldn’t bring himself to apologize. Instead, he roughly shook Ji-ho off and straightened to his full height.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I am,” Tae-woong replied curtly, his gaze fixed straight ahead. While his needless display of pride was somewhat absurd, Ji-ho was relieved that he had, at least, regained his wits.

[Fire Barrier.]

As Tae-woong activated his skill, flames twice a man’s height erupted, towering like an impassable barrier. Immediately, the potency of the boss monster’s incoming attacks visibly diminished.

*Kwoong!*

Even with the barrier, the attacks still carried enough force to inflict a fatal wound if they connected.

To hold the boss monster in check—a creature that remained utterly unmoving within the space beyond the door—Tae-woong maintained the fiery barrier.

Then, he tapped his foot decisively against the ground.

From Tae-woong’s toes, dozens of crimson, thread-like tendrils of magic shot outwards. These intricate lines of power instantly extended, weaving their way into the inner depths of the door.

[Ignite.]

Tae-woong channeled a surge of potent magic into the ground where the crimson threads originated, activating his skill. [Ignite], typically his most basic ability, now worked in complex conjunction with his preceding spell.

The magic, traveling like a lit fuse, detonated with an intensity far greater than if it had merely been cast into the open air. Simultaneously, a series of colossal explosions erupted, painting the darkness as if a grand fireworks display had suddenly ignited the sky.

*Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwang!*

Beneath the furious cascade of flames, the absolute darkness, previously devoid of any light, finally recoiled, revealing its true, terrifying form.

The boss monster, which they had initially believed to be an entirely intangible entity composed of pure darkness, was actually hunched in the center of the chamber, resembling a colossal, craggy boulder.

The monstrous form possessed no discernible limbs, no arms or legs to propel it. Instead, its entire bulk was densely covered with hundreds of incessantly twitching mouths and a single, colossal, tightly closed eye.

As its true form was revealed, the boss monster shuddered violently. Simultaneously, hundreds of its murmuring mouths gaped wide open in unison.

「Kagagak!」

The cacophony emanating from its countless mouths coalesced into a colossal shockwave, which hurtled directly towards them.

“B-class!”

“Ugh!”

Shin Ji-ho narrowly dodged the incoming assault. Despite his heightened vigilance, the attack’s speed had dramatically increased compared to before.

“The attack pattern seems to have shifted, so concentrate!”

“I *am* concentrating!” Ji-ho retorted, a touch of irritation in his voice.

It rankled Ji-ho that the man who had been utterly paralyzed by fear mere moments ago was now nagging him. He snapped back irritably, then forced his mind to sharpen.

The oppressive darkness that had once filled the entire space did not regenerate.

Seon Tae-woong, too, pulled a magic potion from his pocket and gulped it down, then unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks upon the monster. Each time the flames connected and exploded against its form, the monster’s countless mouths sizzled and shrieked in agony.

With every mouth destroyed, the potency of its retaliatory attacks visibly waned.

They were driving it back smoothly, making steady progress.

Yet, despite their success, Ji-ho found himself unable to shake off a profound sense of ominous foreboding.

When the number of its mouths had dwindled to less than half, the colossal, previously closed eyelid slowly began to peel open.

Beneath it, a monstrous eye was finally revealed.

Its iris was a void of absolute black, utterly devoid of any visible white. The pupil, horizontally elongated like that of a goat, was a startling, blood-red hue.

As the pupil flared with a sudden flash, the pitch-black iris likewise deepened to a murky, blood-red, glowing with an eerie, faint light.

Simultaneously, the monster’s previously screaming mouths began to twitch almost imperceptibly, as though whispering directly into his ear.

「Ji-ho.」

For some inexplicable reason, the voice was identical to that of Joo Yi-won.

It was a voice he heard constantly, no—even more familiar, more tender, almost sickly sweet, than Joo Yi-won’s usual tone.

「It’s alright, Ji-ho.」

「You can rest now.」

「Just stay still.」

「You’ve been through so much, haven’t you?」

Listening to the alluring, deceptive voice, Ji-ho’s expression twisted into a look of profound displeasure.

“What kind of cheap trick is this?”

Monsters capable of infiltrating and manipulating human minds often mimic the voice of a person’s most beloved or most vulnerable target. However, for Ji-ho, the voice of his irritating childhood friend and former rival held absolutely no sway.

Seon Tae-woong’s situation, however, was starkly different. Once again, had he succumbed perfectly to the enemy’s skill? The focus drained from Tae-woong’s eyes, leaving them vacant.

“Ah, really!”

‘Again?’ Ji-ho thought, exasperated. He irritably slammed the potion bottle he was already clutching against Seon Tae-woong’s head. Yet, even that single blow failed to restore Tae-woong’s consciousness.

Barely dodging another incoming attack while still holding Tae-woong, Ji-ho shattered two more potion bottles over Seon Tae-woong’s head. Only then did a faint glimmer of focus return to Seon Tae-woong’s eyes.

“Snap out of it…!”

Ji-ho gritted his teeth and smashed yet another potion bottle. Finally, full lucidity returned to Tae-woong’s eyes. His face, belatedly grasping the dire situation, filled with utter shock.

“You…”

“Just… try to manage it yourself, please…”

As Ji-ho struggled to speak, a mouthful of blood erupted from his lips, *coughing*.

He couldn’t possibly evade the monster’s now faster attacks while holding Tae-woong. He had been forced to block them with his own body.

Though not a direct hit, the sickening crunch of bone had been unmistakable. It was a severe injury, one that would lead to death if not treated swiftly.

“Why did you… why did you do all this for me?” Seon Tae-woong mumbled, his voice laced with confusion.

Ji-ho, however, lacked the strength to reply.

‘He’s clearly mistaken,’ Ji-ho thought. ‘I didn’t save him because he’s charming.’

‘It’s simply far more efficient this way.’

For Shin Ji-ho, who had no chance of defeating the enemy alone, sacrificing his body to keep Seon Tae-woong in peak condition offered a higher probability of victory.

He had no energy left to explain that there was no need for gratitude. His vision swam with crimson, then faded back to black. The end was drawing near.

‘This… is it.’

This was the end.

As his final moments approached, all his previous worries vanished, replaced by a strange, profound calm.

‘Perhaps, if Seon Tae-woong kills the enemy quickly, I might even be lucky enough to survive.’

‘Of course, I’m not so optimistic as to expect such luck.’

‘Still, isn’t it better for only one of us to die than both?’

It wasn’t a perfect outcome, but if even one person survived, that would be enough. Perhaps, in the very end, he had fulfilled his role after all.

‘Yes, this is fine.’

‘Is that truly fine?’

At that moment, a strange sentence appeared in Ji-ho’s vision.