Before we could even step away from the still-smoking corpse of the Molten Behemoth, a wall of noise erupted from behind the barricades.
"AHN MIRAE! LOOK THIS WAY!"
"LEON VAEL—WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR THE HUNTER ASSOCIATION?!"
"WHO IS THE NEW HUNTER WITH YOU? IS HE THE RUMORED A-RANK HUNTER?!"
Dozens of camera drones hovered, like a cloud of metallic insects, lights blinking as they zoomed and focused. Reporters pressed forward just behind the emergency crews, all shouting over one another, microphones thrust past the line of containment barriers. The crowd behind them had grown larger, phones out, faces alight with awe, curiosity, and in some cases… reverence.
Mirae stepped back beside us, pulling her scarf up to partially hide her face. Her eyes flicked toward the nearest drone, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"You weren't joking when you said City A never sleeps," she muttered.
Leon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They're going to swarm us for hours."
"Then let's make it quick," Mirae replied, then turned toward me. "You alright?"
"Yeah," I said, still breathing a bit heavy. "Nothing too deep. Vorathos tanked most of it."
From the shadows near me, Vorathos slowly rose from a crouch, one knee against the cracked ground. His form still wreathed in thin, curling tendrils, he nodded once in silent acknowledgment, then dissolved back into my shadow.
A fresh wave of murmurs rose from the spectators.
"Did that thing just vanish?!"
"That's definitely shadow affinity… but I've never seen that style before—"
"Is he a top agent from Association?!"
Before anyone could answer the murmurs or calm the chaos, a sharp, panicked voice from the crowd sliced through the noise like a blade.
"THE GATE—LOOK AT THE GATE!"
Heads snapped around. Several drones swiveled in the air, lenses refocusing.
I followed the pointed fingers—and froze.
Where the now-defeated Molten Behemoth had first emerged, the residual dungeon gate—twisting, obsidian-black with veins of burning red—had not vanished like it normally would upon the defeat of a dungeon boss. Instead, it began to pulse, like a massive, diseased heart, glowing brighter with each beat.
Sparks crackled across the surface. The surrounding ground began to tremble again.
"Oh no…" Mirae muttered.
One of the Hunter Association agents monitoring the site sprinted up, face pale and eyes wide. "The gate—it's destabilizing! We just got telemetry from HQ. There's a second-tier convergence forming inside!"
"Meaning?" I asked, voice sharp.
"Meaning this wasn't the end," Leon said grimly. "It was the opening act."
The gate suddenly flared white-hot—a violent, searing heat washing across the area as an earsplitting sound rang out like a thousand shrieking metal blades scraping against the world itself.
Then came a silence so absolute, it was deafening.
And from that silence… a massive claw emerged.
Twice the size of the Behemoth's, obsidian-plated and steaming with magma-like light glowing between each segmented scale. It gripped the edge of the portal, dragging something forward.
Civilians screamed. Reporters ducked behind barriers. The Association teams began shouting warnings and herding people back.
"Get everyone out!" Mirae snapped, stepping forward and drawing her spear, mana already coiling around her like a vortex.
A thunderous crack split the air as the gate ruptured wider, fragments of molten stone and smoldering metal bursting outward in a ring of destruction. Steam hissed up in curling sheets, masking the emerging shape within.
Then, through the smoke and heat shimmer, it unfolded.
Wings—vast, tattered and heat-seared—stretched out with a force that knocked back drones and staggered nearby personnel. Each leathery span was longer than a commercial jet's wingspan, etched with glowing runes and scars from ancient battles.
And then we saw it.
A dragon.
Not just any beast, but something colossal and ancient-looking, its body a terrifying mix of volcanic rock, scorched scales, and glowing veins of molten gold pulsing with unnatural energy. Jagged horns curved from the back of its skull, and its eyes—piercing pools of molten amber—swept the cityscape with cold, calculating awareness.
The entire battlefield stilled.
"...That's not supposed to be possible," Leon breathed. His voice barely carried over the crackling fire and the stunned gasps from the crowd. "That's an Ancient Dragon. A Calamity-Class."
"A dragon from a mid-tier gate?!" Mirae spat, gripping her spear tighter. "What kind of messed-up convergence is this?!"
The dragon stepped out fully from the gate, each motion radiating heat that turned the air into a mirage. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath its claws as it planted one massive foot onto the scorched earth. Then it raised its head and let out a roar—an earth-splitting, sky-rending sound that caused several buildings' windows to shatter in the distance.
Emergency sirens blared anew.
Civilians fled in a frenzy.
"ALL UNRANKED PERSONNEL FALL BACK! THIS IS A CALAMITY-CLASS EVENT!" the Association agents barked through megaphones.
"I thought dragons of this tier only spawned in SS-class dungeons!" I said, stepping forward beside Leon and Mirae, shadows already licking at my fingertips, the twin Monarch Daggers shimmering into my hands.
"They do," Leon muttered, his aura now swirling like a rising storm. "Which means something is seriously wrong with this gate."
As the dragon's roar faded into the ringing silence, I felt a strange pull in the pit of my chest—like gravity bending inward.
A sudden notification popped up.
***
[System Notification]
Calamity-Class Threat Detected: Ancient Flame Dragon
Name: Pyraethrax the Ember Tyrant
WARNING: Target exceeds conventional summoning class limits.
Unique Dungeon Convergence Detected. Parameters overwritten.
[Abyssal Monarch's Right of Dominion] has been activated.
Upon defeating this entity, you may claim its soul.
Success Rate: 1.4% (Base). Conditions may improve upon target's weakening state.
Do you wish to engage?
[Yes] / [No]
***
My breath caught. For a second, I thought I'd misread it—but the glowing blue text hung there in my vision, steady and unwavering.
Claim a dragon like this…?
I stared at the notification again and this time, for a moment longer, the pressure from Pyraethrax's looming form thick in the air like molten fog. Then, quietly—but with a calm finality—I spoke:
"I'm going to use it."