The morning sun had only just begun its gentle descent upon the city when golden rays filtered through the towering windows of the Union Headquarters. Dust motes floated lazily in the warm air, unaware of the tension thickening by the second within those walls.
At the heart of it sat Anand Rajput, the Chairman of the Indian Warrior's Union—a name that echoed across the country like a thunderclap of legacy and power. A man of sixty-two, with streaks of gray tracing his thick black hair and eyes sharpened by decades of battle, he leaned over a stack of reports with a rare frown creasing his brow.
Something wasn't right.
Something... terribly wrong.
He scanned the report for the third time, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edges of the paper.
> Location: Bhopal District
Anomaly Type: Mana Fluctuation
Classification: Unknown
Detected Mana Signature: Blackred
Immediate threat level: MYTHICAL
Anand's jaw tightened. The words "blackred mana" weren't just rare—they were legendary. Only twice in global history had such an anomaly occurred, and each time, it brought a wave of destruction that reshaped nations.
Without warning, the heavy doors to his office burst open.
"You didn't knock."
His voice was calm, but the authority in it crackled like an approaching storm.
The intruder? His daughter.
Kriti Rajput, S-Rank warrior of India. Proud, headstrong, and undefeated. The eldest of his children, and perhaps the only one who could barge into his office and live to tell the tale.
"I don't knock for family," Kriti said with a casual shrug, brushing a strand of raven hair from her cheek. She wore her battle uniform, still stained with traces of mana dust. "I just finished clearing the A-Rank Gate in Jaipur. No casualties. Just came to report."
Anand raised an eyebrow. "Good work. But I didn't summon you to talk about that."
Kriti's posture straightened slightly. She had fought beasts larger than buildings, survived mythical-level raids, and faced death countless times. But when her father looked at her like that, it meant something serious.
"Then why did you call me here, sir?"
There was a pause.
Anand stood and turned the report toward her.
"Look at this."
She took it—and froze.
Her eyes scanned the lines once, then again, her confident expression slowly giving way to disbelief.
"Blackred mana...?" she whispered. "No. That can't be. Not here... not again."
"It's happening," Anand confirmed grimly. "A Mythical Gate is forming in Bhopal."
The room fell silent for a long moment. Only the faint ticking of the wall clock dared to break the tension.
"Then we're doomed," she said, voice barely audible.
"That depends," Anand said, his voice hardening. "On whether we act now or hesitate like the Americans and Russians did."
He turned toward the window, his voice like iron.
"I need you to gather twelve S-Ranks. Fifty A-Ranks. A hundred and twenty B-Ranks. And between three to five hundred capable warriors. Call every major guild."
Kriti blinked, stunned. "That's... a full military assault team. We've never mobilized such a force in history!"
"This is the first time we've needed to," he replied. "You know what happened last time."
She did.
Everyone did.
The first Mythical Gate—New York City, USA. The boss: The Black Dragon Kraken. Two world rankers dead. Four S-Ranks. Four hundred and fifty warriors—wiped out. The city had never fully recovered.
The second? Moscow, Russia. The boss unknown. Casualties: Over six hundred. Including twelve S-Rank elites.
If this gate in Bhopal opened... it could spell the end.
---
Far from the growing storm of the Union HQ, deep within the wild expanse of a B-Rank Dungeon, a lone figure stood amidst the misty ruins of a forgotten temple.
Arjun Verma.
A solo hunter. Twenty-one. A brother, a son, and soon... perhaps something far greater.
Blood streaked across his cheek, but it wasn't his. The Night Wolves lay strewn across the stone floor—giant, black-furred beasts with glowing red eyes, now nothing more than fading shadows.
Arjun exhaled.
"Seventeen down," he muttered. "One more to go."
Before him stood a massive archway glowing with ominous red light—the entrance to the boss room.
He tightened his grip on his twin daggers, flexing his fingers.
> [ Abyssal Shadow Status: Stable ]
[ Mana Reserves: 92% ]
[ Active Skills: Shadowstep | Void Cut ]
He smirked.
"Let's see what you've got."
He stepped through the gate.
The room beyond was vast, cloaked in crimson mist and silence. In the center stood a towering figure—beastlike and noble all at once.
A majestic deer-shaped monster with antlers like curved blades, fur shimmering like blood under moonlight.
> Boss Name: Rowl of the Crimson Night
Type: legendary Beast
Rank: High-A
The beast turned toward him, eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom—and malice.
Then it roared, the sound shaking the entire chamber.
Arjun's eyes narrowed.
"Let's dance."
The fight began with a blur of motion.
Rowl charged, its hooves igniting the ground with each step. Arjun vanished just as the beast struck, reappearing above it in a blur of shadow.
> [ Shadowstep Activated ]
His blade flashed across Rowl's flank—barely a scratch.
"Tough hide, huh?"
Rowl whipped its antlers upward, knocking Arjun mid-air. He crashed into the wall but rolled upright just in time to dodge a blast of crimson energy.
> [ Void Cut Activated ]
[ Critical Hit! ]
His blade sliced through the energy stream, creating a shockwave that sent both combatants flying back.
But Arjun was smiling.
This was his element. A real fight.
The battle continued—Arjun diving through shadows, striking fast, vanishing, reappearing, cutting through the mist. Rowl adapted, summoning illusions, manipulating the crimson fog, launching spectral antler projectiles.
It was a battle of wits, strength, and endurance.
And then, finally—Rowl stumbled.
Arjun's shadow enveloped his form like a cloak.
> [ Abyssal Boost: 60% ]
[ Overload Active ]
With one final, precise strike, Arjun's dagger pierced Rowl's heart, exploding with shadow energy from within.
The beast screamed—and dissolved into mist.
Silence.
Then—ding.
> [ Boss Defeated ]
[ New Ability Acquired: Shadow Touch ]
You can now absorb the abilities of defeated enemies by touching their shadows.
Arjun blinked.
"Wait. What?"
He knelt beside the fading form of the beast. Its shadow flickered on the stone floor.
He reached out... and touched it.
Darkness surged up his arm like lightning.
> [ Absorbing... ]
Abilities Acquired:
Crimson Fog Manipulation
Spectral Antler Barrage
Mistwalker Step
Bloodline Regeneration (Passive)
Arjun gasped.
"Does this mean... every monster I kill—?"
He clenched his fist as his veins glowed faintly with shadowy power.
"I... grow stronger?"
A slow smile spread across his face.
---
Inside the Union briefing hall, the tension was thick. Dozens of senior members, guild leaders, and elite warriors filled the room, all staring at the digital map projected at the front. A single red marker pulsed in the center—Bhopal.
Kriti Rajput stood at the front, her voice firm, commanding attention. "We have 12 days. That's when the gate will open."
Murmurs rippled through the room like a rising tide.
"Is it true…?" one guild leader asked. "Is it really a Mythical Gate?"
Kriti's sharp eyes scanned the crowd. "Yes. And if you think this is just another high-rank dungeon, think again."
She tapped the screen. Images of past catastrophes flashed behind her—scorched ruins, broken cities, lists of the dead.
"The last time a Mythical Gate appeared was in Russia. Casualties exceeded 600. Twelve S-Ranks were killed. Before that? America lost two World Rankers to the Black Dragon Kraken."
Silence.
"This isn't just a gate—it's a catastrophe waiting to happen. If we don't act now… Bhopal won't survive. India won't survive."
She turned to face them all.
Inside the Union briefing hall, the tension was thick. Dozens of senior members, guild leaders, and elite warriors filled the room, all staring at the digital map projected at the front. A single red marker pulsed in the center—Bhopal.
Kriti Rajput stood at the front, her voice firm, commanding attention. "We have 12 days. That's when the gate will open."
Murmurs rippled through the room like a rising tide.
"Is it true…?" one guild leader asked. "Is it really a Mythical Gate?"
Kriti's sharp eyes scanned the crowd. "Yes. And if you think this is just another high-rank dungeon, think again."
She tapped the screen. Images of past catastrophes flashed behind her—scorched ruins, broken cities, lists of the dead.
"The last time a Mythical Gate appeared was in Russia. Casualties exceeded 600. Twelve S-Ranks were killed. Before that? America lost two World Rankers to the Black Dragon Kraken."
She stepped forward, gaze unwavering.
"We defend Bhopal. We defend India."
A pause. Then her voice rang like a war drum.
"Mobilize every guild. I want 12 S-Ranks. 50 A-Ranks. 120 B-Ranks. And 500 warriors ready for war."
She looked them in the eye.
"We are the last line. And we do not fall."
To Be Continued...