The rain had stopped by morning, leaving District 7 smelling of wet concrete and ozone. Tareme arrived at Gate Plaza 19 at 10:45, duffel slung over one shoulder, old hunter jacket zipped to the throat. The plaza was already buzzing—vendors hawking mana potions, guild recruiters shouting bonuses, hunters in gleaming armor checking gear. Neon signs flickered above the registration kiosks: Gate 19-B – Estimated Grade 4-5 – Public Clear – 500k Base + Loot Split.
He scanned the crowd. Ten-man party call meant exactly ten slots. Nine were filled when he approached the check-in desk. The team leader—Vance, a tall Grade 6 spearman with a jagged scar across his left cheek—looked up from his tablet and barked a laugh.
"Grade 1?" Vance read Tareme's ID badge aloud like it was a punchline. "You serious, kid? This ain't a tutorial Gate."
Tareme met his eyes. No flinch. "I'm here to work."
The other hunters turned. A Grade 5 tank in heavy plate snorted. Two Grade 4 mages whispered. A female Grade 5 archer—short-cropped auburn hair, leather corset armor that hugged her curves—raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Vance shrugged. "Fine. Meat shield slot's open. Stay in the back, don't die, don't touch loot until we say. You get 5% base split. Touch anything early and I'll skewer you myself."
Tareme nodded once. Inside, the Flame Seed pulsed—hot, eager, tasting the disrespect like kindling.
They formed up at the Gate: a vertical tear thirty feet wide, edges rippling purple-black, exhaling cold mist that smelled of pine and blood. Vance led. Tareme took rearguard position, baton in hand, feeling ridiculous for about three seconds until he remembered the fire sleeping in his veins.
They stepped through.
The transition was instant vertigo—reality folding, then snapping open into a vast misty forest. Towering black pines stretched into fog. Bioluminescent moss glowed underfoot. The air was thick, mana-dense, pressing against skin like wet silk.
"Standard formation," Vance barked. "Scouts forward, tanks center, DPS flanks, trash in back."
First wave came fast—normal goblins, knee-high, green-skinned, crude spears and jagged teeth. The party moved like clockwork. Vance's spear spun in silver arcs, impaling three at once. The archer loosed arrows that exploded on impact. Mages hurled ice shards. Tareme stayed back, baton raised, pretending to contribute while watching.
Cleared in under two minutes. No casualties. Loot orbs—small glowing spheres—dropped and were collected by the support mage.
"Easy money," someone muttered.
They pushed to the second floor.
The mist thickened. Trees grew closer, branches twisting like veins. The System chimed softly in Tareme's mind:
[Anomaly Detected: Mana Overload – Gate Difficulty Scaled Up]
[Mutated Overlord Spawn Incoming]
[Hidden Reward Path Unlocked: Solo Carry Quest – Defeat 100% of enhanced swarm]
[Base Reward: Exponential scaling per kill]
Tareme's lips curled. He felt it before he saw it—the air turning heavier, hotter, wrong.
The second wave didn't trickle. It exploded.
Goblin overlords—twice normal size, muscles bulging under crimson-veined skin, eyes burning like coals—burst from the undergrowth. Behind them came dire wolves the size of horses, fur matted with black ichor, jaws dripping corrosive saliva. Elite orcs followed, axes taller than a man, roaring with unnatural fury.
Vance's spear caught the first overlord in the throat. It didn't drop. It grabbed the shaft, yanked Vance forward, and slammed him into a tree. Bone cracked audibly.
"Shit—overleveled!" the tank screamed.
Two hunters went down in the first thirty seconds—clawed open, screaming as acid blood ate through armor. The archer's arrows bounced off thickened hides. Mages' spells fizzled against sudden fire resistance. The rift behind them shimmered and sealed—boss energy locking the exit.
Panic set in.
Tareme stood at the rear, untouched so far. Blood sprayed across the moss. A wolf lunged at the auburn-haired archer; she rolled, but its claws raked her thigh, tearing leather and flesh. She cried out, bow dropping.
The System voice was calm, almost excited.
[Kill 1/100+ – Begin accumulation]
Tareme stepped forward.
"Get back, idiot!" Vance yelled, blood streaming from his nose.
Tareme didn't.
He raised his right hand. Flame Burst ignited—not a dart this time, but a roaring lance of golden-red fire that punched straight through the nearest overlord's chest. The monster staggered, chest cavity glowing white-hot, then detonated from the inside in a shower of ash and molten bone.
[Kill Confirmed]
[Flame Seed Progress: +8%]
[+120 Stat Points Awarded – Auto-allocated to Strength & Mana Affinity]
The heat in his core surged. Muscles tightened under his jacket. He felt stronger—visibly. Shoulders broader, stance surer.
The party froze for half a second.
Tareme didn't wait.
He moved.
Agility points kicked in—he blurred forward, dodging a wolf's lunge by inches. His hand clamped the beast's muzzle; flames erupted from his palm straight down its throat. It convulsed, eyes popping, then collapsed into smoking ruin.
[Kill 2/100+]
[+80 Stat Points]
[Flame Burst upgraded: Rank 2 – Area Cone unlocked]
He swept his arm in a wide arc. A fan of golden fire roared outward, catching four overlords at once. They screamed—high, inhuman—then charred black and crumbled.
The hunters stared, weapons slack.
"Who the hell…?" the tank whispered.
Tareme didn't answer. He was already moving again.
An orc charged. Tareme met it head-on. He caught the descending axe on his forearm—metal screeched, sparks flew—but the blade didn't cut deep. His skin glowed faintly, heat aura deflecting the edge. He drove his fist into the orc's gut. Flame Burst detonated inside the monster like a grenade. Ribs exploded outward; the orc flew back twenty feet, dead before it hit the ground.
[Kill 7/100+]
[Ember Regeneration triggered – Minor wounds closing]
[New Temporary Buff: Heat Aura (Rank 1) – Reduces incoming fire/heat damage by 70%, weakens enemy resistance]
He saved the archer next. A wolf had her pinned, jaws wide. Tareme crossed the clearing in three strides, grabbed its hind leg, and hurled it skyward. Mid-air he launched a Flame Burst that swallowed the beast whole. It disintegrated into golden embers that drifted back to him, feeding the Seed.
He knelt beside her. Blood soaked her thigh. She stared up at him—wide-eyed, pupils blown.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low.
She nodded mutely. His hand brushed her arm—deliberate, brief. The System chimed:
[Harem Candidate 1 Detected – Loyalty Seed Planted (5%)]
[Pleasure-link potential: High]
Tareme stood.
The remaining monsters howled and charged as one.
He smiled—small, dangerous.
"More fuel," he said.
And then the forest burned.
Golden-red flames spiraled around him like living serpents. Every kill made him faster, stronger, hotter. Muscles tore and rebuilt mid-fight. His jacket sleeves ripped at the seams. The hunters fell back, watching the Grade 1 trash become something else entirely.
Vance, leaning on his spear, bloodied but alive, muttered, "What the fuck is he?"
Tareme didn't hear. He was counting.
Kill 23.
Kill 41.
Kill 58.
The swarm thinned. The air shimmered with heat haze. Ash fell like black snow.
He was at 89 when the ground trembled.
The dungeon boss had arrived early.
A colossal Mutated Flame Ogre King stepped through the mist—twenty feet tall, skin cracked like cooling lava, eyes twin furnaces. It carried a club the size of a tree trunk, studded with glowing red crystals.
The remaining hunters scattered.
Tareme cracked his neck.
The System whispered:
[Final Phase – Boss Spawn]
[Kill count will determine clear reward multiplier]
Tareme's eyes ignited—pure golden-red.
"Let's see how much you're worth."
He charged.