Sector 9's Gate hovered like a wound in the sky—pulsing red, unstable, and seething with violent mana. Hunters in armored gear formed perimeter lines while helicopters circled above, blaring warnings.
"Pull the last wave out!" a Hunter officer barked. "We lost comms with Squad Three! We're calling in reinforcements!"
No one noticed the shadow that passed through the barricades.
No one felt the pulse of mana shift as Rael's clone stepped into the Gate unnoticed.
---
[Dungeon: Cracked Red Gate – Rank A]
[Clear Condition: Eliminate Dungeon Core]
The clone emerged into a twisted wasteland—crimson skies, floating black stones, and grotesque beasts crawling over shattered architecture. Demonic hounds sniffed the air, sensing life. They bared their fangs, snarled, and charged toward the intruder.
The clone didn't flinch.
It moved like smoke.
With a flick of its hand, a spear of dark energy formed—an ability the world hadn't seen in over a decade.
> [Skill: Phantom Lance – Activated]
The spear ripped through the air, piercing the first three beasts before exploding. Limbs scattered, and the others hesitated. But hesitation was death.
The clone blurred.
One by one, it dismantled the monsters with surgical precision—no wasted movements, no hesitation. In less than two minutes, a dozen high-tier A-rank beasts lay in broken pieces. The dungeon trembled in response.
> [Progress: 47%]
Deep in the dungeon, the core stirred. A hulking, six-armed demon with obsidian skin and molten eyes rose from a throne of bone. The Gate Boss.
It let out a roar that shattered nearby cliffs.
Back in the real world, monitoring equipment screamed warnings.
"A BOSS HAS SPAWNED! ENERGY LEVEL SPIKE—WHAT THE HELL?!"
Operators panicked. Something was wrong. Too wrong.
"Who's inside the Gate?! All units pulled out! Who's left?!"
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
No one… except the man sitting in a dim apartment, watching through another set of eyes.
---
Rael's real body was slouched in his chair, eyes glowing faintly. He saw everything—heard every crunch of bone, every growl, every system notification.
> [Boss Engaged – Dread Lord Zekrael]
[Estimated Power: S-Rank Threat]
[Warning: Clone Power Usage Exceeding Threshold – 43% Soul Strain]
Rael narrowed his eyes. "No holding back."
He poured more of his soul's power into the clone. Its eyes flashed, and the very air around it warped.
The demon lunged.
Claws like swords swiped. Earth cracked. Magic detonated. But the Phantom clone danced through the chaos.
> [Skill: Soul Severance – Activated]
[Cooldown: 96 Hours]
The world slowed.
Rael's clone stood still as time bent around it. One clean step forward—then a single slash.
The demon's body froze mid-motion… then split in six directions.
> [Boss Defeated]
[Dungeon Core Stabilizing…]
[Clear Rate: 100%]
[You Have Gained: Soul Crystal x3, Phantom Essence x1, Unknown Shard x1]
[Level Up: +4]
[Clone Sync: Complete]
[Returning Clone to Host…]
---
Back in the apartment, Rael gasped as the clone's memories surged into him. Pain laced his spine—but it was bearable. Welcome, even.
He looked down at his hand.
It wasn't shaking anymore.
> [Clone 1 Recovered. Total Soul Clones Available: 1/9]
[System Note: First Solo Clear of a Red Gate Recorded. Name: Phantom – Status: Undocumented]
[Global Ranking Update: Error – Entry Rejected by System Protocols]
Rael smirked. "Of course. The world still doesn't recognize me."
Perfect.
Let them search. Let them guess. Let them believe some glitch, some fluke cleared the gate.
The ghost had entered the world.
And no one knew whose grave they were standing on.
---
Meanwhile…
Lyra Fenhardt slammed her fist into her desk as the report came in.
"Repeat that. You're saying no one cleared the gate? Then who took out an S-rank threat?!"
Her aide stammered. "N-No trace of mana signatures. The dungeon was wiped clean. The core's stable. All monsters gone. There's… nothing left."
"Bullshit." Her eyes narrowed. "Find me the surveillance footage. I want every second analyzed. If there's someone out there strong enough to do this alone…"
She didn't say the rest.
But a
part of her—the part that had faced death in too many gates—shivered.
Somewhere, someone had just declared war on the natural order.