Unique Gate [14]
1197 Words
Darius tapped his fingers impatiently against the polished wooden table, his brows furrowed in frustration. The Guild Headquarters bustled with activity around him—hunters coming and going, clerks managing requests, the occasional burst of laughter or heated argument—but none of it mattered to him right now.
He was waiting for Zenon.
And Zenon was late.
Darius let out a slow breath, resisting the urge to check his communicator again. He had already tried reaching Zenon multiple times, but there was no response. That wasn’t like him.
Something wasn’t right.
"Still no word?"
The voice was calm yet firm, carrying an air of authority that made Darius instinctively straighten in his seat.
He turned and saw Selene Varros, the Guild Master and an A-Rank Support, a woman as composed as she was formidable.
Selene had an imposing presence despite her relatively unassuming appearance. She was tall, her posture always precise and controlled, with an elegance that set her apart from the rougher crowd of hunters. Long, dark brown hair cascaded down her back, neatly tied to avoid distractions. Sharp amber eyes, keen and discerning, missed nothing. Though she was a Support, her reputation spoke volumes—she was not someone to underestimate. She had led teams through some of the deadliest Gates and had the rare ability to command absolute respect from both high-ranking hunters and guild officials alike.
Right now, however, she looked impatient.
Darius exhaled, shaking his head. “Nothing. I tried contacting him, but he’s not responding.”
Selene studied him for a moment before sighing. “I can’t afford to wait any longer. I have an important meeting that I’m already running late for.”
Her tone was clipped—not out of anger, but practicality. A Guild Master’s time was not easily wasted, and delays could disrupt far more than just schedules.
She turned on her heel but paused before leaving. “Darius, keep trying to reach him. If he doesn’t report back soon, we’ll need to escalate this.”
Darius stiffened. “You think something happened?”
Selene didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder, her amber eyes sharper than before.
“I think we can’t afford to assume otherwise.”
With that, she strode away, leaving Darius with a growing sense of unease.
Perhaps, something had gone wrong.
“I'll check his house.”
He pressed his car keys and opened his car and drove towards Zenon's house.
[ Inside the Gate ]
And he was going to find out what.
The chamber collapsed, sending dust and debris into the air. As the rubble settled, the illusion of endless darkness shattered—revealing the vast night sky above. The red moon loomed ominously, casting its eerie glow over the land.
Zenon’s breath hitched as he took in their surroundings.
They were no longer in the suffocating depths of the ruined chamber.
Instead, they stood within the remains of a castle—a fortress of pale, weathered stone, its once-proud walls now crumbling beneath the weight of time. Thick vines and thorny roses wrapped around the broken pillars, their crimson petals stark against the moonlight, as if feeding off the eerie glow. The castle, though ruined, exuded an undeniable presence, something ancient and waiting.
Their gazes locked, neither willing to look away. Both had asked the same question, yet neither had answered.
In that silent moment, the Gate Boss became certain—in Zenon’s current state, they were almost equals.
That realization did not bring fear. It brought exhilaration.
To stand against a human on the same stage as him? It was thrilling.
Then, a memory surfaced—the System’s notification.
[ Notification ]
To retrieve the key, the soul of the key-holder is needed.
Clear and concise notification from the System.
Before, he had only suspected that Zenon was the key-holder. If he had taken him before his power awakened, the retrieval would have been simple.
But now?
Now, Zenon had unlocked a portion of his power. Killing him would now be complicated..
Yet instead of frustration, a slow, wicked grin spread across the Gate Boss’s face.
After centuries of waiting, he would finally experience it again—the flavor of the battlefield.
And thus, the battle started with a Skill activated by the Gate Boss.
[ Crimson Festival ]
Unleashes circular waves of blood sickles in every direction within a 50-meter radius, slicing through enemies repeatedly.
Passive : Enemies hit suffer Necrosis, causing their wounds to fester—reducing their defense by 20%
Type : AOE
The atmosphere trembled.
With a flick of his wrist, hundreds of bladed arcs of blood erupted, cutting through the air like a storm of crimson death. The sheer force of the attack sent shockwaves through the ruins, shattering stone and tearing through anything caught in its wake.
The castle itself could not withstand the assault.
Walls collapsed. Pillars crumbled. The once-proud fortress was reduced to rubble.
As the dust settled, the Gate Boss shifted his gaze to the right—where Zenon stood, unscathed.
Perched atop the broken remains of the castle, Zenon held a unique sword in his grasp. His stance was firm, his eyes unwavering. He had seen through the attack, dissecting it with precision.
No fresh wounds marred his body—only the injuries he had sustained before his power had fully awakened.
The Gate Boss was not surprised.
Zenon had evaded every strike, not through luck, but through sheer skill.
More importantly, the Gate Boss had noticed something.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Impressive. My skill was flawless, and yet...” His eyes glinted with amusement.
“You deflected it. With technique alone.”
Zenon’s grip on his sword tightened. His body remained still, but his mind raced, analyzing every move the Gate Boss had made. He had tested Zenon. And Zenon had passed.
But that didn’t matter right now. There was something more important.
“You know something,” Zenon said, his voice steady. “About the Devil-Possessed.”
The Gate Boss tilted his head, as if amused by the question. Then, he chuckled—a low, almost mocking sound.
“You’re persistent,” he mused. “But I wonder… why do you seek that knowledge?”
Zenon didn’t waver. “Answer me.”
The Gate Boss exhaled through his nose, his grin fading. He raised a hand, fingers curling slightly.
“No.”
A sharp tension filled the air.
Zenon’s expression darkened. “So you refuse?”
“Refuse?” The Gate Boss smirked. “No, human. It’s not that I refuse.”
His fingers snapped.
A surge of power rippled through the battlefield.
“I simply require your death first.”
In an instant, the air thickened with murderous intent. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the remnants of the castle groaned under an unseen force. Shadows stretched unnaturally, coiling like living things, drawn toward the Gate Boss.
His aura expanded—violent, suffocating.
Zenon exhaled slowly. He had expected this answer, but hearing it aloud confirmed what he already suspected. This wasn’t just a battle for survival.
It was a battle for the truth.
- Writer
