Chapter 13: The Gate That Wouldn’t Let Them Leave

The first monster that blocked the party’s path inside the dungeon looked like a frog — if frogs had three pairs of legs instead of two.
It leapt around on its six limbs nonstop, and to be honest, it was downright revolting. Each one seemed about forty to fifty centimeters long, their backs covered in barnacle-like bumps from which squirming, anemone-like tentacles protruded.

“Ew—what the hell is that?! It’s different from the ones we saw last time! So disgusting!”
Hyerin stomped her feet in revulsion, shuddering.

“I don’t think it’s poisonous, but watch out for those weird tentacles,” said Shin Yoon-jae calmly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the monsters. Compared to Hyerin’s shrill panic, he was remarkably composed.

“Ugh… seriously, this is nightmare fuel. Do you see the goosebumps on my arm?”
“They look weak to fire. Should be easy to deal with.”
“Fine then! Screw this—let’s make some frog barbecue!”

Tiny sparks flickered in Hyerin’s palm — crackle, crackle. To Seong Ji-woo’s ears, it sounded oddly like a bug zapper.

Croak.

One of the five monsters — the one leading the pack — hopped closer without a shred of caution. Then, without warning, it shot out its long tongue, narrowly missing Hyerin. Seeing the slimy, spiked tongue made her gag.

“Urgh!”

Drool dripped from the monster’s tongue as it recoiled. Hyerin, unable to hold back, unleashed a burst of flame from her palm. Boom! Pop! The frogs exploded in a mess of sizzling flesh.

The stench of burning protein filled the air.
“Urgh…” Hyerin took a deep breath, then held it in and detonated an even bigger blast. She precisely timed her fireballs to fly straight into the monsters’ open mouths — almost artfully so.

Crooaaak!
Crk—!

Their bellies swelled and burst like balloons. Intestines rained from above. Hyerin shrieked and dove behind Shin Yoon-jae, who grimaced but used a gust of wind to push away the debris so it wouldn’t splatter all over them.

They cleared the first dungeon, technically — but the four of them now had to walk through the field of exploded monster guts to reach the next gate.

“I told you to stop making such a mess.”
Shin Yoon-jae sighed.
“What, like it’s my fault my power looks like this? You think I want to see this crap?” Hyerin protested.

“Maybe not, but I doubt that thing wanted to die in an internal-organ fireworks show either. Ji-woo and I will handle the next dungeon.”
Ji-woo’s calm tone soothed her, but her pride was already wounded.
“Still… you can’t deny blowing them up was kind of satisfying, right?”
“…”

No one agreed. The scene before them was far too gruesome for words like satisfying. Hyerin huffed and backed off.
“Fine. You guys do it next time.”

From then on, Ji-woo and Yoon-jae took the front, while Yoo Heero and Hyerin stayed in the rear.

The second and third dungeons went smoothly. With Ji-woo’s silent debuffs and Yoon-jae’s precise wind blades, the monsters were neatly dispatched. Fighting from range meant they didn’t have to witness any gory close-ups this time.

“…Boring,” Hyerin muttered.

By the fourth dungeon, she begged to join in again, claiming she’d “keep it clean.” The monsters this time were plant-type — slow and harmless — but Hyerin zipped around, blasting everything to ash anyway. She even kept firing until the corpses were reduced to dust. It was less combat and more massacre.

For the first time, Ji-woo actually felt bad for the monsters.

Apparently, the buff he’d given her had supercharged her aggression. He even checked his skill window to make sure his buff didn’t have a side effect like “Causes hunter to lose reason.” Thankfully, it didn’t.

“Your buff is freaking awesome,” Hyerin mumbled, covered in soot and grinning like a berserker. Ji-woo flinched slightly.
“Y-Yeah… sure.”
(I’m never giving her that buff again…)
Yoon-jae whispered behind him, “Don’t buff her next time. We can’t handle it.”

Still, they reached the final floor without incident.

A deep whoooom echoed around them — wind, or something else entirely. Above them stretched an open sky, and in front of them shimmered the swirling vortex of the gate’s exit. Passing through it would mean a perfect clear.

Yoon-jae checked his smartwatch. If they exited now, they’d break the record for fastest clear time.

He finally understood why Seong Ji-woo was called a genius supporter. His buffs, debuffs, and precision timing were flawless — invisible yet immensely powerful. Every time Ji-woo’s light flared, the tide of battle turned instantly.

It gave Yoon-jae chills. No one would believe it if he tried to explain it — Ji-woo’s skill was just that unbelievable.

“It’s over!” Hyerin shouted cheerfully.
“See? I told you it’d be easy!” She grinned at Ji-woo and Heero, clearly pleased.

Ji-woo smiled back and patted Yoo Heero’s shoulder.
“Not bad, right? You adapted fast.”
Heero smiled shyly. “You did all the work, senior. I barely did anything.”
“Hey, surviving your first gate without collapsing is impressive enough.”

But Hyerin frowned. “How would you know if real gates are easy? You’ve never been in one before.”
Ji-woo froze. “Uh—just a feeling?”
“Cocky much? Though I’ll admit, you’re good.”

“Anyway, let’s head out and review—”

He stopped mid-sentence.
The exit gate turned black. The glowing spiral vanished as if severed from reality.

“What the—why can’t we get out?” Hyerin pushed her arm into the darkness, tried stepping through — nothing. The exit wouldn’t respond.
“Did it glitch?”
“Gates don’t glitch,” Yoon-jae snapped.
“Maybe we should contact the academy—”

—Those who defy fate.

The voice wasn’t human. It reverberated through their bones — majestic yet menacing. Hyerin winced. “What the hell was that supposed to mean?”

Ji-woo froze. To him, the words were perfectly clear — the ancient Gate Language.

—Another fate shall rise to destroy you.

“What’s it saying?” Hyerin demanded, but Ji-woo just swallowed hard. She couldn’t understand, and that was a blessing.

—Those who oppose divine authority shall be punished!

“Get back!” Ji-woo yelled instinctively.

BOOM. Rumble.

The ground shook violently. Hyerin nearly fell, Yoon-jae catching her just in time. Ji-woo held tightly onto Heero.

“It’s not over yet,” he muttered.

His instincts were right. The earth beneath them bulged, then burst upward — Gate transformation.

The terrain shifted chaotically, sending them rolling apart. This gate wasn’t supposed to have a core, but one was activating — because of him.

Ji-woo exhaled shakily.
I have to protect them — no matter what.

From the depths below came a roar like a hurricane. The risen land connected to their platform, and the massive boulder in its center began to move.

“…What the hell is that?”

Rubble fell away, revealing the creature’s form — a stone golem. Two glowing triangles blinked to life where its eyes should be.

That was the core.

—GRAAAHH!

The golem’s roar shook the dungeon. It scanned the intruders, head swinging slowly from side to side — until it locked onto one.

“Yoo Heero!”

It lunged. Too fast to block.