Arclight City slept restlessly.
Even with the torches burning along the walls and adventurers standing in doubled patrols, the night air felt heavy, stretched thin with anticipation. Every few minutes, a passerby would pause near the Association gates, peeking inside with anxious curiosity.
Because everyone knew:
Rengoku Hayate would descend the dungeon tomorrow.
Not for profit.
Not for glory.
Not for fame.
But because something called him.
Something far below the surface.
Something ancient.
Something awake.
Hayate felt it even now, long after the First Knight Battalion's departure. A faint pull in his chest, like invisible fingers tugging him toward the abyss. The Devouring Star pulsed behind his ribs in slow, deliberate beats.
One. Two. Three.
Flare hovered near his shoulder, arms wrapped around her tiny body.
"Hayate… that thing down there isn't friendly, right?"
Hayate didn't answer.
He stood on a rooftop overlooking the silent city, wind tugging at his coat, silver moonlight splitting across the edges of his hair. His gaze was fixed on the massive structure in the distance—the dungeon tower.
A fortress of stone and obsidian, carved by gods or monsters or something in between.
And beneath it—the grand staircase spiraling downward into eternal darkness.
He exhaled softly.
"Flare."
"H-Huh?"
"Rest early. Tomorrow will be long."
Flare hesitated. "Hayate… are you nervous?"
He looked at her.
Calm. Silent. Expression unreadable.
"No."
Flare blinked. "Not even a little?"
"No."
"…Why?"
Hayate turned back to the dungeon.
"Because I've already died once."
Flare fell silent. Not with fear—but with a deeper emotion.
Respect.
She floated closer and leaned against his neck like a worried ember.
"Then I'll just be nervous for the both of us."
Hayate didn't respond.
But he didn't push her away either.
The moon moved slowly across the sky.
And morning came.
The dungeon plaza was packed.
Adventurers crowded the edges, armored knights formed a loose perimeter, and Association staff ran back and forth with frantic energy. Even common folk lined the surrounding rooftops, watching eagerly.
"Is he here yet?"
"They say he's doing the full descent—Floor 1 to Floor 100!"
"Is that even possible!?"
"He blocked the king's punch. Anything's possible."
"Shh! Look—he's coming!"
A wave of whispers spread outward like ripples in a lake.
Hayate stepped into the plaza.
No fanfare. No escort. No dramatic entrance.
He simply walked forward, coat brushing lightly against the stone tiles, Flare drifting above his shoulder like a glowing comet.
But the silence he carried was louder than any proclamation.
Every head turned.
Every voice fell quiet.
Even the dungeon seemed to hum in recognition.
Hayate approached the Association representatives waiting near the entrance. The Guildmaster stood at the front—older than most, sharper than all. Her eyes were firm yet filled with worry.
"So you're really doing it," she said.
Hayate nodded.
"The full descent."
Hayate nodded again.
She let out a sigh that seemed to age her another decade. "Most adventurers stop at Floor 30. Some reach Floor 40 if they're legends. The highest confirmed record is Floor 52, and that man retired afterward missing half his limbs."
Flare mouth-chirped softly.
"We will return fully intact!"
The Guildmaster looked at the tiny spirit, then at Hayate.
"…You better."
Hayate adjusted the gauntlets on his wrists.
"Prepare for monster overflow."
Her eyes widened. "Overflow? Why?"
Hayate stepped past her.
"The dungeon senses me."
A chill crept through the plaza.
"But it will not stop me."
The dungeon entrance loomed ahead—an enormous stone archway glowing with ancient sigils. Its interior descended in a spiral of stairs disappearing into pitch-black darkness.
Hayate placed his hand on the wall.
It felt warm.
Alive.
Thump… thump… thump…
A faint pulse—like a heartbeat—answered.
Flare gasped. "Hayate—that wasn't you, right?"
"No."
"Th-Then that was—"
"The core."
The dungeon welcomed him.
Or challenged him.
Either interpretation was acceptable.
Hayate stepped forward.
The spiral staircase swallowed him and Flare whole.
Darkness pressed in immediately.
Not normal darkness. Dungeon darkness. A suffocating, heavy veil that swallowed sound and breath alike.
Rengoku Hayate did not slow.
With each step, the walls vibrated faintly. Sigils faintly lit up where he passed, patterns crawling outward like veins awakening for the first time in centuries.
Flare whispered, awed:
"It… it's reacting… like it's alive."
Hayate said nothing.
His footsteps echoed like drumbeats.
Down.
Down.
Down.
The descent took minutes, then stretched into a full hour. The stairs wound endlessly, as if mocking all sense of distance.
Then, finally—
A faint glow flickered in the darkness below.
Hayate stepped onto solid ground.
The First Floor.
A cavernous expanse revealed itself—vast as a small kingdom, lit by floating emerald crystals that pulsed like breathing stars. Moss-covered ruins sprawled across the terrain, overgrown with twisted ivy that shimmered faintly with mana.
Flare hovered higher, eyes sparkling. "It's… beautiful!"
Then her sparkle died.
"…But creepy."
Hayate stepped forward.
The moment his boot touched the floor—
RUMBLE.
The entire dungeon shook.
Wind blasted outward from deep within the caverns, whipping the moss into a frenzy, shaking dirt loose from the ceiling. A tremor swept through the ground.
Flare shrieked. "W-What did you do!?"
Hayate didn't move.
"The dungeon recognizes me."
Recognizes?
Or fears?
A crystalline roar tore through the distance—sharp, metallic, and furious.
A monster rushed from the shadows.
It was massive—a hulking wolf carved entirely from emerald stone, glowing cracks spiderwebbing across its jaw, emerald dust spilling from its claws.
Its eyes burned bright green.
The Emerald Fang Alpha. A monster that normally appeared on Floor 8.
Not Floor 1.
Flare froze.
"Wh-Why is something from Floor 8 here!?"
Hayate didn't draw his sword.
He didn't need to.
The wolf roared and lunged, claws swiping with enough force to tear a boulder in half.
Hayate shifted one step sideways—
The strike passed him by with a whisper.
He placed his hand lightly on the wolf's neck.
The Devouring Star pulsed.
One breath.
One thought.
One command.
Devour.
A surge of black-silver energy swallowed outward from his palm. The wolf's emerald body cracked, shattered, and dissolved into motes of green light, collapsing into dust beneath his hand.
Silence fell.
Then—
ROOOOOOOAAARRR—!!
Three more wolves charged from the ruins.
Hayate didn't move.
Flare clapped her hands over her ears.
"THE FIRST FLOOR IS BROKEN!"
Hayate stepped forward.
One step.
The Devouring Star pulsed.
The wolves froze mid-sprint—cracks exploding across their bodies—and shattered.
Flare peeked from behind her fingers. "…You didn't even touch those ones!"
Hayate turned his head slightly.
"The dungeon is correcting itself."
"In a good way or in a 'we die horribly' way?"
"Both."
Another roar echoed from deeper inside.
Stronger.
Closer.
Hayate continued walking.
For the next ten minutes, monsters erupted from every corner—slimes, armored boars, golems—but each encounter ended the same way. A step, a glance, a pulse.
Everything shattered.
Everything bent.
Everything devoured.
By the time the central gate to Floor 2 came into view, the dungeon had fallen eerily silent.
Flare's voice trembled.
"Hayate… they weren't attacking you because they wanted to. They were attacking because… they were afraid."
Hayate stopped walking.
He looked toward the gate.
A massive stone door engraved with spiraling runes, dormant for decades—but now glowing faintly.
Like it was waiting.
"I don't need fear," he whispered.
"I need answers."
Flare floated next to his ear. "Answers… about the core?"
"About everything."
Hayate raised his hand and placed it against the gate.
Instantly—
FLASH—!!
Blinding light swallowed the cavern.
Flare screamed.
"W-W-WHY IS IT SO BRIGHT!?"
The runes spiraled outward like living serpents, weaving around Hayate's arm, climbing to his shoulder, then across his chest. A low hum vibrated in the air, ancient and heavy.
A voice—no, an emotion—whispered into Hayate's mind.
Welcome.
Hayate's eyes narrowed.
Flare trembled.
"D-Did you hear that…?"
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"An invitation."
The light faded.
The gate cracked open, dust falling away like ash.
Beyond it was only blackness.
The air tasted different—denser, older.
Hayate stepped forward.
Flare gulped and followed.
"And now… Floor 2."
The moment they crossed through, everything changed.
The air chilled instantly.
The light dimmed.
The pressure increased—slamming into Hayate like a physical weight.
Flare gasped. "O-Oh no… the mana density just… doubled!"
The cavern opened into a vast underground forest—darker than night, roots weaving across the ceiling like the veins of a colossal beast. Thick fog clung to the ground like smoke.
But the worst part wasn't the forest.
It was the eyes.
Dozens of glowing yellow eyes stared from the trees—
Waiting.
Hunting.
Hungry.
Flare whispered, voice cracking:
"Hayate… we just entered a different world."
Hayate didn't draw his blade.
But he did place a hand on the hilt.
A presence stirred within the fog—massive, heavy, and malicious. A creature far stronger than it had any right to be on Floor 2.
Another roar erupted, shaking the treetops.
Flare squealed.
"WHY DOES EVERYTHING FEEL LIKE IT'S FROM FLOOR 20!?"
Hayate exhaled slowly.
"The dungeon grows restless."
"W-Well can it calm down!?"
"No."
He took one step forward.
Immediately—
Something moved in the fog.
Slower than a monster. Slower than a beast.
Too slow for either.
Hayate narrowed his eyes.
Footsteps.
Human footsteps.
Flare paled. "A-A person…?"
A figure emerged from the mist.
A woman.
Tall. Pale. Wearing torn robes of an ancient design not used in any known era. Her hair was long and silver, drifting like strands of moonlight. Her eyes were closed.
Yet she walked directly toward Hayate.
Flare froze completely.
"…Hayate… p-please tell me she's normal."
The woman stopped three steps away and opened her eyes.
They were empty.
Completely white.
No pupils.
No irises.
Just light.
Hayate sensed no killing intent.
But he sensed purpose.
The woman bowed deeply.
Then spoke in a voice that echoed unnaturally, as if layered with hundreds of whispers.
"You have come, Devouring Star."
Flare's soul nearly left her body.
"WH-WH-WHAAAAAT!? SHE CALLED YOU—"
The woman raised her head.
Her empty eyes glowed brighter.
"We have waited. Descend deeper. The core remembers you. The abyss remembers you."
Hayate's heartbeat slowed.
Steady.
Controlled.
"What are you?"
The woman smiled faintly.
"An echo. A fragment. A messenger left behind for the one who would return."
"Return?" Flare squeaked. "Hayate's never been here before!"
The woman didn't blink.
"He has. In another life. And deeper still… something awaits its master."
The forest trembled.
The woman stepped back into the fog.
"Descend, Devouring Star. And reclaim what was once yours."
And with that—
She vanished.
Silence returned.
Flare stared at Hayate in horror.
"Hayate… what… was that?"
Hayate closed his eyes.
"…The past."
He took another step forward.
Toward the depths.
Toward the unknown.
Toward the truth.
And the dungeon—
shook with anticipation.