The fog thickened until the world looked painted in shades of blood and ash. Phase Two of the Gate was nothing like the first. The monsters were deadlier, faster, smarter.
And so were the humans.
Riven stood alone near the broken remains of a stone archway, blood dripping from his knuckles. The corpse of another beast dissolved behind him, its fragments absorbed into his mark. Each Devour made him feel stronger, sharper — but also hungrier. The hunger never faded.
"Not bad… for trash."
The mocking voice cut through the silence.
Riven turned, eyes narrowing. A tall man stepped from the mist, his red hair spiked, his lean body clad in steel-like armor etched with glowing runes. A sword hung at his side, crackling faintly with flame.
Kael Draven.
One of the strongest among the survivors dragged into this Gate. Born to a prestigious clan, gifted with flame powers from the very start. Arrogant. Cruel. A man who looked down on anyone beneath him.
Riven's lips curled into a cold smirk. "The dog finally shows his teeth."
Kael's eyes burned with fury. "Careful, Devourer. You're alive only because you've been hiding behind monsters. That ends now."
He unsheathed his sword, fire bursting to life around the blade.
The other survivors scattered instantly. No one wanted to be between these two.
The duel began.
Kael moved first, his sword slashing through the air, flames trailing like a comet. Riven barely dodged, his body rolling across shattered stone. His instincts screamed at him — Kael wasn't just flashy. He was trained, precise.
But Riven had something Kael didn't. Devour.
The next strike came fast. Riven caught the blade with his broken knife, sparks flying. His hand lashed out, slamming against Kael's arm. His mark pulsed.
Pain ripped through both of them. Kael roared, flames flaring violently. Riven staggered back, coughing blood. His body wasn't ready to fully devour a power as strong as Kael's. Not yet.
But he had stolen a taste.
His fingers sparked faintly with fire.
Kael's eyes widened. "What… what did you just do?"
Riven's grin was cold, feral. "Learning."
The fight raged across the ruins. Fire clashed with hunger. Riven absorbed fragments of every strike, growing sharper, faster, more dangerous. Kael's rage grew with each moment.
"You bastard! That power— it doesn't belong to you!"
Riven spat blood, smirking. "Then take it back."
With a final lunge, he slammed his palm against Kael's chest. Devour roared to life, ripping a fragment of Kael's elemental fire into him. Both men screamed, but only one stood when the dust cleared.
Riven.
Kael lay sprawled on the ground, barely breathing. His pride shattered, his power stolen.
The survivors whispered in shock. The trash had beaten a clan heir. The Devourer had consumed flame itself.
And from the mist, unseen by most, two figures watched.
The first was the silver-haired goddess from before, her amethyst eyes unreadable. She watched Riven with quiet interest, as if studying a puzzle piece that didn't belong to the board.
The second…
A woman of devastating beauty leaned lazily against a broken pillar, crimson hair glowing faintly in the Gate's red light. Her emerald eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched the fight end. Her busty figure was accentuated by the tight black combat suit she wore, every curve displayed like art. Her lips curved into a playful smirk.
"My, my…" her voice was like silk dipped in wine, seductive and dangerous. "The little Devourer has teeth."
The goddess glanced at her. "Seraphina."
The red-haired woman chuckled, her eyes never leaving Riven. "Now this… this one is interesting."
Riven didn't notice them. His body collapsed to one knee, exhausted, bloodied, but alive. He forced himself back up, his cold gaze fixed forward.
He didn't know yet… but the eyes of two extraordinary women were already locked on him.
And neither intended to let him slip away.
The Gate was quiet again. Too quiet.
Riven stood in the center of the ruined archway, his chest heaving, his hand still trembling from the final Devour strike. The body of Kael Draven had already dissolved into fragments, his clan heir pride shattered in front of everyone.
The other survivors avoided looking at Riven directly. They muttered in hushed tones, their eyes a mixture of fear and awe.
Trash no longer.
He could feel it. The spark inside his chest — hot, sharp, alive. Fire. His veins glowed faintly, like embers running beneath his skin. When he clenched his fist, a faint flicker of flame danced between his fingers before dying away.
It was unstable, weak. But it was there. His first element.
Devour really can steal it. I can… become more than them.
His lips twisted into a cold smile. The hunger inside him was finally beginning to make sense.
He staggered away from the ruins, ignoring the whispers, ignoring the looks. He needed space to breathe, to think. Every part of his body screamed in pain, but his mind buzzed with clarity.
"Strong, aren't you?"
The voice was low, sultry, smooth like wine poured into a crystal glass.
Riven froze, eyes narrowing. Slowly, he turned.
And saw her.
She leaned against a broken pillar, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded casually beneath her chest — a chest that strained against the black combat suit she wore. Crimson hair spilled down her shoulders like fire itself, shimmering even in the Gate's dim red glow. Her emerald-green eyes locked onto him with an intensity that made most men crumble.
Every curve of her body seemed sculpted to tempt, from the generous swell of her bust to the sharpness of her waist, to the way her hips arched with sinful confidence. She didn't just walk into a scene — she owned it.
Riven's heartbeat quickened for half a second before he forced it back to calm. He stared back, his eyes cold, unmoved.
She smiled, amused. "Not bad. Most boys your age would already be stammering."
Riven tilted his head slightly. "Most women don't lurk in fog, watching fights they don't plan to join."
A soft laugh escaped her lips. "Oh, clever. And bold." She stepped closer, her boots crunching softly against stone. Her scent hit him — faintly sweet, faintly smoky, intoxicating. "I watched because you're interesting. Devourer."
His jaw tightened. "You know about it."
"Of course I do." She circled him slowly now, like a predator measuring prey. "Devour… a cursed gift, or a divine one, depending on how you use it. Dangerous. Addictive."
Her eyes glowed faintly, emerald fire flickering in their depths. "And very, very rare."
Riven met her gaze evenly. "Who are you?"
She stopped in front of him, lips curving into a playful smile. "Seraphina Veyra."
The name rang faint bells. He'd heard whispers about her even before the Gate dragged them here. A widow, they said. A beauty untouchable by any man. A flame wielder with influence in the Origin Council.
And now she was standing right in front of him, watching him like a cat watches a mouse.
Riven didn't answer. Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Seraphina tilted her head, her crimson hair spilling over one shoulder. "Cold, aren't you? I like that. The arrogant ones always crumble too fast."
Her voice lowered, velvet and heat laced together. "But you… you'll either burn brighter than all of them, or you'll burn yourself out."
Riven let out a short breath, his smirk faint. "And what does it matter to you?"
For the first time, her playful mask slipped, replaced by something sharper. "Because I've been waiting for someone who doesn't bore me."
The survivors in the distance were still whispering, their eyes wide at the sight of her speaking to him. Seraphina Veyra didn't waste words. Not on trash. Not on anyone.
But here she was, circling Riven Kael like he was already hers to claim.
"Careful," Riven said, his voice flat, unshaken. "If you stare too long, you'll get burned."
Her laughter rang out, sultry and genuine. "Oh, darling… I was born in fire. The question is—" she leaned forward slightly, her emerald eyes gleaming, "—can you handle the heat?"
Riven didn't flinch. Didn't blush. Didn't look away from the swell of her chest brushing against him as she teased. He just smirked, cold and unyielding.
"Try me."
For a moment, her lips parted, her eyes narrowing in interest. Then she chuckled, stepping back, giving him space again.
"Good," she purred. "Very good. You might just survive after all."
She turned, hips swaying as she walked away into the fog. Every man in sight stared helplessly at her retreating figure, hunger and envy in their eyes.
Riven just exhaled slowly, his fists tightening.
Two women now. Two forces of nature. Both watching him. Testing him.
He didn't know if it was luck, fate, or curse. But he knew one thing.
If he wanted to stand beside them…
If he wanted to claim strength beyond imagination…
He had to keep moving forward.
And in the shadows above, unseen by any mortal eye, the Gate pulsed brighter. Phase Two was only beginning.