Jhin Won returned to the KGFH headquarters beneath a darkening sky, the echo of ocean wind still lingering on his coat. There was a rare quiet in his chest, a momentary stillness he hadn't felt since the Royale began. The threat in the mountains hadn't been a rampaging beast, but an enigmatic Host—Kaelen. Powerful, yes, but not reckless. Not cruel. It left him with something rare. A flicker of hope.
Perhaps not all great powers sought ruin.
What he didn't know. What he couldn't know—was that far beneath the sleeping earth of Gyeongju, something ancient and unspeakable had stirred.
It began with a crack—subtle at first, like the earth whispering a secret. A hidden Golden-Class cave ruptured beneath Gyeongju's spine, as if the world itself had flinched. From that fracture crawled a horror that defied taxonomy. A mockery of man and mantis. Covered in luminous, oil-slick scales that shimmered like liquified stars, its limbs segmented, chitinous, razor-bladed at the joints. Wings folded along its back like stained glass in motion, sharp, alien, beautiful. It walked like a whisper—silent, yet heavy with intent. The apex predator had arrived.
Its first steps were aimed toward life. Toward people. Toward blood.
On the outskirts of Gyeongju, in a district of open-air markets and rusting high-rises, chaos bloomed. Phones shrieked. Sirens screamed. A chorus of human fear erupted as news of the entity spread like wildfire.
"The mountain monster!" someone cried.
Two KGFH Knight Mechs lumbered into the chaos, their energy shields flaring bright against the dull morning haze. The air shimmered with anticipation. But they never stood a chance.
A blur.
A heartbeat.
Both machines fell—bisected like paper dolls. Their glowing cores sputtered in silence. The crowd, watching from rooftops and hidden windows, fell into a deeper panic. It was here.
Nearby, a scouting squad of Hosts—there to track the supposed 'mountain monster'—saw their reality tilt.
Han-joon stood among them, calm in the center of fear. Level 21, Ninja-Class. Patron deity: Susanoo, god of storm and sea. Fast. Resilient. Deadly. Ranked 56th in the nation, and still underestimated.
"Shadow Bind!" he cried, forming a rapid series of hand seals.
Tendrils of black mist exploded from beneath him, spectral chains snapping upward toward the creature. But they struck only air. The entity shimmered—blinked sideways—unreal.
"Wind Scythe!"
Blades of compressed air tore through the haze. But again, nothing. No impact. No resistance. Han-joon turned just in time to feel the breeze shift.
Thwip.
His head vanished. Clean. Blood sprayed like a popped balloon. His body remained upright for half a breath before folding into the dirt like discarded clothing.
Someone screamed.
Then many did.
KGFH Hosts charged, but were erased just as easily. Bodies collapsed before their screams could even fully form. The air reeked of ozone and blood.
Then came the cry, desperate and trembling—
"The Top Ten! His here!"
Kim Hyun-woo.
Level 29. Known for strength and pride. And lately, for recklessness.
"I got this," he growled, not even turning to the others. He grinned like a wolf. "Watch me squash this bug."
The creature paused. Its head tilted. Something like amusement shimmered behind those alien eyes.
"You call yourself gods," it said, its voice like ancient stone grinding in a tomb. "But I smell only fear."
Hyun-woo's smirk faltered—but only slightly. "You talk. Great. Let's see how well you scream."
"Echo Punch!" he shouted, and became a blur—fists duplicating mid-swing, each strike splitting the air like cannonfire. Twenty blows per heartbeat. A vortex of wrath.
The creature didn't dodge. It danced. Flowed. Tilted just so. A ripple of iridescent wings and all the fury passed through emptiness.
"Is that all you've got, mortal?" it said, calmly.
"You dare—!" Hyun-woo howled. "Set's Fury! Serpent's Visage!"
His body cracked, convulsed. Crimson hair coarsened into bristles. His jaw elongated into a snout full of jagged teeth. Limbs thickened grotesquely, eyes burning a seething red.
Those watching stepped back in silent horror. This wasn't just divine power—it was a man choosing monstrosity.
"Desert Tempest!" he roared, claws slicing air into shrapnel.
"Chaos Fang!"
He lunged, jaws snapping toward the foe. The creature parried—once, twice. Then allowed two hits to land. It stumbled. A ripple of surprise among the crowd.
"Not bad," it admitted. "But now, I show you something new."
It vanished.
Hyun-woo spun, scanning wildly. Too late.
Whip!
The creature appeared behind him, its forearms a blur of slashes. Blood painted the ground. Hyun-woo reeled.
"Requiem Slash!" he shouted, driven by desperation. His claws created shockwaves, slicing buildings and air alike. Chunks of concrete rained like meteors.
"I got him!"
"No," said the voice from above.
The creature hovered, untouched.
Hyun-woo turned—and saw, beneath him, ruined apartments, bloodied by his own hand. Screams rose.
"We can't avoid collateral damage!" he barked, trying to justify.
"You are the monster," the creature replied.
It opened its jaws.
Darkness swirled. Then—
BOOM.
A beam of anti-light split the sky. Hyun-woo barely escaped. The earth beneath him wasn't so lucky. A canyon of smoldering ruin formed in its wake.
Fear, real and primal, sank its teeth into his spine.
The creature vanished again. Then—
"Crimson Howl!" Hyun-woo screamed, waves of sonic death shaking windows.
"Set's Grasp!"
Tendrils of sand and god-magic clawed the air. But he struck only shadows. The thing moved like wind through cracks.
"You scream for glory," the voice said, circling him now, whispering from nowhere. "But glory is deaf."
"You swing with rage," it murmured, "but rage is blind."
Hyun-woo was bleeding now. Weakening. Eyes wide. Gasping.
Then, it appeared—behind him.
Its clawed hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. His transformed limbs flailed, claws scratching empty air.
"You dream of extermination," it whispered, so close now its breath tickled his neck, "but you are the insect."
Hyun-woo's eyes bulged. His legs kicked weakly. A final, desperate blow struck the creature's arm. Useless.
With a sickening crack, the creature crushed his throat. Then, slowly, ritualistically, it dragged Hyun-woo's limp form upward—and bit down.
A wet, tearing sound filled the air. Civilians screamed. Hosts turned away. One of the Top Ten was being devoured like meat.
The creature chewed slowly. Swallowed.
"Special Skill: Devour," it said. "This creature inherits fifty percent of what it consumes."
Its body shifted, evolved. Wings stretched wider. Scales gleamed with new heat. It was reborn again. Stronger. Smarter. Hungrier.
Other Top Ten Hosts were already en route.
But Jhin Won, back at headquarters, clenched his fists.
He felt it—a pressure in the air, a cosmic imbalance.
He had exhausted his shadows during the spar with Kaelen(Zyx). No anchor clones remained in Gyeongju. And so, for the first time in years—
He was grounded.
Unable to move.
The worst enemy imaginable had arrived, and the only man who could meet it was too far, too late.
And the hunter? The Devourer?
It walked now, remade in crimson and glory.
Toward its next meal.