The sky darkened in the middle of the day.
It did not begin as thunder or storm. There were no clouds, no wind, no omen recognizable to ordinary eyes. Only Lunaria felt it—the subtle distortion in the air, the tightening of mana across the city like a breath being held too long.
The system spoke before the alarms did.
[Warning. High-Density Mana Distortion Detected.]
[Classification Pending… Escalating… City-Level Threat Confirmed.]
[All Available Hunters Notified.]
Lunaria stood atop a cathedral spire, silver hair flowing freely in the windless air. His ribbon remained tied around his wrist, a soft pink band that marked restraint. Below him, the city pulsed with unaware life—vendors shouting, children running, carriages rolling, lanterns flickering under noon sunlight.
A vertical fracture opened in the sky.
Not in the ground.
Not in a wall.
In the sky itself.
It tore downward like a blade dragged through glass. Purple-black light poured from the wound, distorting space around it. Gravity bent. Sound warped. The city's mana network screamed.
A city-level dungeon gate.
Not a rupture.
Not a leak.
A full manifestation.
The sky split wider, and something massive pressed against reality from the other side.
The alarms began.
Sirens echoed across every district. Crystal panels flared crimson. The guild's communication network ignited with overlapping commands and warnings. Citizens froze, then screamed.
Lunaria did not move.
His eyes reflected the breach.
[City-Level Dungeon Manifestation Confirmed.]
[Threat Class: Catastrophic.]
[Recommended Response: Immediate Engagement.]
[All Missions Suspended. Priority Override Initiated.]
He removed the ribbon.
The soft band slipped from his wrist and fluttered away on invisible currents.
His hair fell.
Moonlight silver spilled down his back in a single, unbound cascade, shimmering faintly with mana. The air around him sharpened. His presence shifted—not louder, not heavier, but infinitely more dangerous.
The city felt it.
Hunters across every district halted mid-motion, their instincts screaming. Even S-ranked elites felt a subtle pressure, like a blade drawn behind them.
Lunaria stepped forward.
The cathedral spire vanished beneath him as he accelerated.
Not a sprint.
Not a leap.
A distortion.
The air bent as he crossed three city blocks in a single breath, rooftops becoming streaks of shadow beneath him. Windows rattled in his wake. Flags tore free. Dust spiraled upward as though chasing him.
The first wave emerged from the sky-gate.
They were not beasts.
They were not demons.
They were constructs—living amalgamations of abyssal crystal and chaos flesh, towering humanoid forms with shifting limbs and faceless heads that reflected light like broken mirrors.
Each one radiated pressure equivalent to a Silver-Rank dungeon core.
There were dozens.
They fell.
Not one by one.
Not in sequence.
In choreography.
Lunaria passed through them like a blade drawn through silk.
His sword did not swing.
It traced.
Each movement was a curve, a line, a breath of motion. Limbs separated without sound. Cores split in clean arcs. Bodies collapsed before they understood they had been cut.
He did not slow.
He did not stop.
He danced through the air itself, every step landing on nothing, every strike precise beyond perception.
Mana detonations rippled across the sky.
The constructs began adapting.
Wings formed.
Blades replaced arms.
Gravity anchors activated.
Lunaria rotated mid-air, hair streaming in silver arcs, and stepped on nothing.
He vanished.
Reappeared above them.
A single downward stroke.
The sky split again—this time with force.
The entire wave disintegrated.
Below, citizens stared upward in stunned silence as fragments of black crystal evaporated into harmless light before touching the streets.
The system pulsed.
[First Wave Neutralized.]
[Secondary Entities Emerging.]
[City-Level Core Stabilization: 3%]
The gate widened.
A colossal form began forcing itself through.
Not a creature.
An entity.
It was shaped like a cathedral of bone and shadow, crowned with abyssal spires, its body composed of layered dimensions stitched together by chaos. Each step warped gravity. Every breath bent light.
This was not a boss.
This was the dungeon itself given will.
S-ranked hunters arrived.
They emerged from teleportation arrays, rooftops, airships, and sealed corridors. Ash, Kael, Riven, and the others formed a defensive arc across the sky, their auras igniting like stars.
They saw Lunaria.
Standing alone.
Between the city and annihilation.
Ash shouted his name.
Lunaria did not turn.
The entity roared.
The sound shattered windows across five districts.
Reality warped.
Time dilated.
Lunaria moved.
He did not rush the creature.
He walked into its presence.
Each step pressed against crushing gravity, dimensional shear, abyssal corrosion. His uniform fluttered. His hair streamed behind him like liquid light.
The system spoke.
[Warning. Entity-Class Host Detected.]
[Recommended Response: Tactical Withdrawal.]
[Override Detected.]
Lunaria raised his sword.
The air curved around him.
Every mission he had completed.
Every dungeon he had cleared.
Every abyssal fragment absorbed.
Every chaos trace refined.
They aligned.
Not as power.
As harmony.
His stance shifted.
Not aggressive.
Not defensive.
Perfect.
The entity extended a limb the size of a city block.
Lunaria stepped.
The limb passed through where he had been.
He was already inside its core perimeter.
One cut.
The world paused.
Not exploded.
Paused.
A single silver line traced across the entity's structure.
Then everything collapsed inward.
The entity folded like paper.
Not destroyed.
Compressed.
Condensed.
The sky-gate screamed.
The dungeon reacted.
New layers emerged—adaptive barriers, abyssal shields, chaos spirals.
Lunaria exhaled.
His blade moved again.
This time, the cut did not target form.
It targeted existence.
A refined convergence of abyssal logic and chaos flow—something no system had ever taught him, something born from instinct and refinement.
The sky-gate shrank.
The dungeon recoiled.
The city held its breath.
S-ranked hunters stared in silence.
They could not follow the motion.
They could not perceive the sequence.
They only saw the result.
The gate collapsed.
Not violently.
Gently.
Like a wound closing.
The sky returned.
The pressure vanished.
Mana stabilized.
The city exhaled.
Lunaria descended.
Not falling.
Floating.
He landed atop a broken rooftop, hair drifting around him in silver curtains. The ribbon remained far below, lost to the wind.
Ash reached him first.
"Lunaria… that was—"
The system interrupted.
[City-Level Threat Neutralized.]
[Entity-Class Host Defeated.]
[Unregistered Skill Formation Detected.]
[Abyssal-Chaos Convergence Stabilizing.]
[Warning. Power Classification Exceeding Known Ranks.]
Lunaria did not respond.
He looked at the city.
The people below resumed movement slowly, hesitantly, like survivors waking from a dream. Buildings still stood. Lives remained intact.
His sword lowered.
The S-ranked hunters gathered behind him.
Not protectively.
Reverently.
They had seen what he had become.
Not a prodigy.
Not a genius.
Not a weapon.
A phenomenon.
The system spoke again, quieter than ever.
[Evaluation Pending.]
[Your existence is diverging from expected progression.]
[Continue.]
Lunaria closed his eyes.
Then opened them.
And turned toward the horizon.
The world would not stop sending chaos.
So neither would he.