The world had once been ordinary. Cities bustled with life, children laughed in the streets, and people believed tomorrow would be the same as today.
But that was before the Abyss opened.
No one knew why the first dungeon appeared. Some claimed it was punishment from the heavens, others swore it was the work of devils. What mattered was not the cause, but the result. When the black gates tore through the sky, monsters spilled into the world, and humanity discovered it was no longer at the top of the food chain.
And yet, despair was not the end. When dungeons emerged, so did hunters — humans who awakened strange powers capable of standing against the monsters. Fire that could burn through stone, blades that could cut through steel, healing that could regrow flesh. The world cheered them as heroes.
But power changes people.
Hunters were ranked, their strength categorized from the lowest E-rank to the near-mythical SS-rank. Above even them stood the Divine Rank, beings so rare that only ten in the entire world bore the title. They were worshipped, feared, and obeyed.
At first, hunters united. They fought to protect humanity, built guilds to organize defenses, and swore oaths never to misuse their power. But as years passed, unity cracked.
The dungeons were not just homes to monsters. They were filled with resources—mana stones that powered entire nations, rare materials worth more than gold, artifacts forged by forgotten gods. Whoever controlled the dungeons controlled wealth, power, and influence.
And with that realization, hunters turned against each other.
Guilds clashed not for survival, but for supremacy. Territories were drawn and redrawn in blood, cities became pawns in endless battles, and governments were powerless to stop them. The strongest hunters seized land and ruled as kings, while weaker hunters became mercenaries, assassins, and tools of war.
Some fought for greed. Some fought for pride. Others fought simply to prove that they stood above the rest.
The people who had once cheered their names now trembled when they walked past. The line between hero and tyrant disappeared.
And in the shadows of that chaos… the Abyss stirred.
For every dungeon cleared, another seemed to open, deeper and darker than before. Monsters grew stronger. Entire nations collapsed overnight, swallowed whole by tides of claws and fangs. The balance of the world tipped further toward destruction.
It was in this collapsing world that whispers began. Whispers of an ancient power hidden in the depths of the Abyss. A god not of salvation… but of demons.
A presence that watched. Waiting.
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