By the time Do-Jin arrived, whatever had killed them was already long gone.

They didn’t even get the chance to fight back before they were slaughtered.

He crouched down and checked the bodies first, then the scene around them. The corpses were torn apart so savagely that it was hard to even make out their shapes anymore. What struck him most was not the gore, but the stillness of the ground around them.

There were no deep cuts in the dirt, no scorched marks, no shattered rocks, or anything indicating a battle had even taken place. The sword lying next to one of the Swordsmanship Division students was still sheathed as well.

I can piece it together later. First, I need to fire a flare.

Whatever had taken these two down was still out there, and it meant every other student scattered across the field was in just as much danger.

This wasn’t some practice monster the Academy planted. Did an elite or a boss spawn naturally in the field? Talk about shit luck.

The academy was meant to monitor mana levels to prevent this exact situation, to keep concentrations from ever reaching the threshold where something that strong could be born. But no matter how much they tried, there was always a limit. Nature had no regard for their rules.

Even if something that strong spawned, the staff down below would notice and respond quickly. There’s at least a chance they’d contain it before more bodies piled up. But this...

These two had just been unlucky enough to get caught in the middle of it. He was searching the corpses for their flares when a shiver crawled up his entire body, his instincts screaming.

No. This...

Do-Jin’s head snapped up. Through the cracks of the sky, a star glowed down at him. It was clear, harsh, and drenched in malice. It was the Star of Ruin, Laves.

“Fuck—”

This was not a random elite or a field boss. In hindsight, that would have been the lucky option. At least then the Academy staff could have rushed in, pinned it down, and contained the mess before it spread.

[The light of the Star of Ruin, Laves, pours down upon the region.]

[A Catastrophe-class Rift Dungeon is beginning to form in the area.]

This was no longer just about two dead students. It was a full-blown catastrophe that would not end with just them.

***

Dave, the Swordsmanship Division instructor overseeing the training field, was shouting orders with a sharp edge that cut through the din. A handful of Academy mages came running, still breathless from examining the barrier that had suddenly flared up and sealed the training grounds.

“S-sir, it looks like the Rift has formed inside!” one stammered.

“Don’t give me your mage jargon. Explain it so I can actually understand!”

Pressed under his glare, another mage stepped forward. “The Rift is a phenomenon that occurs when the influence of Laves becomes concentrated. At the center, a fissure opens, and the power it emits creates a zone that blocks all access. That barrier is most likely the effect of such a Rift.”

“Most likely? You’re giving me half-assed guesses at a time like this—”

“Sir,” the mage interrupted, his tone tighter now. “Very little about Rifts caused by the Star of Ruin, Laves, has been studied. The Magic Society is researching it, but there’s been almost no progress.”

Dave bit his tongue. He realized this wasn’t the time to vent his rage at convenient targets. Instead, he asked with narrowed eyes, “So, you’re telling me we can’t break through that barrier and get inside?”

“At the moment, it’s impossible,” came the reply. “From the moment the Rift appears until it stabilizes, entering is nearly out of the question.”

“Nearly out of the question isn’t the same as impossible,” Dave said.

“If someone with extremely high-level magic, or power on par with it, attempted to force entry, it might be possible,” the mage admitted. “But...”

“But what?”

“In that case, the Rift could lose the balance it needs to stabilize and collapse. It would rupture completely. That is the conclusion the Magic Society has reached at present.”

Dave’s face darkened as his eyes drifted back to the black wall dividing where he stood from where the students were trapped.

“What about the Academy? Have they been informed?”

“We’ve already reported it. They’re identifying which professors from the Magic Division can be mobilized and will dispatch them immediately.”

“Damn it...” Dave clenched his fists.

Is there really nothing else we can do?

He hated this helplessness with every fiber of his being. He had clawed his way up as a commoner to become a Rank 3 adventurer, and young as he was, he had even secured a post as an Academy instructor. But against forces like this, against the world itself, his strength meant nothing.

As that bitter thought settled in, a voice addressed him. “What is the Academy’s rescue plan?”

He turned sharply. “And you are...?”

“I am Anna Viante, knight of House Bondrei.”

“Ah...” Dave’s eyes widened.

Only then did it strike him that among the students trapped inside was Xenia Bondrei, the only daughter of Duke Muy Bondrei. He had been so focused on the group as a whole that he had forgotten the political weight of one particular student.

“We’ve already reported to the Academy,” he said quickly, his voice formal now. “They are sending available professors from the Magic Division.”

Anna was no student. She bore the badge of a duke’s knight, and Dave adjusted his demeanor accordingly, bowing his head slightly as he spoke.

“Available professors... I see. The Duke’s own mage corps has also been ordered to move immediately. Please ensure the Academy is informed. Let me be perfectly clear. Any interference or miscommunication that hinders the rescue effort will not be tolerated. The duke’s daughter is inside that barrier.”

So are the other students, Dave thought, almost saying it out loud. As a man born a commoner, he knew better than anyone that not all lives weighed the same on the scales of this world. Stay alive. All of you. Please, not one more dead child.

He clenched his fists tighter and stared at the black barrier, as if trying to will it away. It was growing darker, less transparent with every passing moment, until it was nearly opaque. As the shadows deepened, he prayed desperately.

***

The outside was already in chaos after the sudden appearance of the Rift, but it was nothing compared to the hell inside.

The Rift was a disaster, a wound in the world born wherever the power of Laves, the Star of Ruin, condensed. Everyone in Lostania knew of it, but no one expected one to burst open here, in this place, at this exact time.

No wonder no one’s ever talked about this spot. No player’s seen it happen before, Do-Jin recalled. What’s the level range for this area again? Around 90...?

The Rift Dungeon always scaled at least 30 levels higher than the zone it spawned in, which meant that even at the bare minimum, he’d be dealing with monsters around Level 120.

“Fuck.” The curse hissed through Do-Jin’s teeth as he ran back to where he’d left Anemone and Bill.

“Do-Jin!” Anemone bolted out the moment he arrived, eyes wide, voice tense. Sensitive to the world’s mana, the spirit wolf was already on edge. “Hey, there’s a terrible omen—”

“I know. The situation’s gone to shit.” Do-Jin cut to the chase. “Just give me a second to figure out what to do...”

He pulled her back into the cave with him. Meanwhile, Bill practically leaped to his feet when he saw Do-Jin return. The boy had been left to Anemone’s less-than-friendly company and had been too scared to do anything but wait.

“Wh-what happened out there? The sky just got darker all of a sudden and, wait, that scream earlier! No one’s hurt, right?”

Do-Jin’s nerves were already frayed raw, and Bill’s shaky voice, spilling over with panic, was like nails dragging across his skull.

“Shut it. I’m thinking.”

The Rift had formed. Players could enter, but the natives of Lostania, those without the strength to resist Laves, were barred from stepping inside while it was still forming. Which meant every single academy staff and guard outside was useless. Survival would have to be handled from within.

Hide? That’s the safest bet. If all I cared about was living, holing up would give me the best shot.

Even that wasn’t a guarantee, and it wouldn’t stop anyone else from dying either. His mind flashed back to the two mutilated corpses he’d seen earlier. Just thinking about more piling up left a bitter, rotten taste in his mouth.

Do-Jin could play it safe and hole up. After all, dying didn’t mean the same thing for him as it did for everyone else. But the idea of sitting on his ass while others got slaughtered was worse than death.

Hiding’s off the table, so all that’s left is to fight the boss.

The simplest option came next: closing the rift while it was still forming. Technically, all he had to do was smash the core at the center.

Do-Jin was Level 99. On paper, Level 100 was only a step away, but the difference in power felt like an entire tier. And now he was supposed to solo a boss at least Level 120, maybe higher. It wasn’t a challenge. It was suicide.

Still, he didn’t have a choice. Until the dungeon fully stabilized, the number of monsters spawning would be relatively low. If he moved carefully and avoided unnecessary battles, there was still a chance. He would save whoever he could, as many as possible. That was the only plan that made sense. There was no point in thinking about what he could gain or lose right now.

“Um... can you at least explain what’s happening?” Bill’s voice shook as he spoke. “If you haven’t found the student who screamed earlier, maybe we should go out and look for them together—”

The words barely left his mouth when Do-Jin’s patience snapped. His irritation boiled over past its limit. He grabbed Bill by the collar with a violent jerk and snarled in his face.

“That scream you heard was two students dying.”

Bill’s eyes went wide. “W-what are you talking about? The monsters here are all weak ones! I was told it was safe, that second-years could handle this training ground without any danger—”

Do-Jin’s fist cut him off. Even so, Bill wasn’t completely helpless. For all his cowardice, his body carried the muscle memory of years of sword training. With a sharp twist of his upper body, he knocked Do-Jin’s arm upward and off balance.

“What are you...?!”

But his opponent was Do-Jin. He barely reacted to the decent reflex. He activated Electric Shock, and a crackle of lightning burst from his fingertips. Sparks crawled up Bill’s body, sending him jerking like a puppet with cut strings. Do-Jin had held back, but taking it head-on was still excruciating.

“Ghhk! What was that for?”

“Get your head straight. The whole area is turning into a dungeon.”

“A dungeon? Really?”

“Yeah. So if you want to live, shut up and get ready to move.”

“Move? You mean we’re leaving instead of hiding?”

Do-Jin shrugged. “You could stay behind if you want. It’s not like you’d be much help saving anyone anyway. Hell, you’d probably just drag me down.”

Bill’s eyes shook. “You mean... you’re going to try and save the others? Even though it’s dangerous?”

Do-Jin gave a short, bitter laugh. “I’m a Regenian. It’s better to go down once trying to save people than lie low and toss all night with nightmares.”

Bill didn’t understand what “Regenian” meant. His grades were too terrible to connect the dots. But one thing was clear: the man standing in front of him was the adventurer he’d dreamed of becoming as a boy. That was before he’d learned he was a bastard son of nobility, back when he was just a country kid chasing an impossible dream.

Bill’s knees were shaking, but he tried to steady himself and force the words out. “I-I’ll come too.”

Do-Jin hesitated. He’s useless in a fight. He’s more likely going to get me killed than be of help. But if I leave him here and he runs into something, he’s guaranteed dead.

He sighed and made up his mind. There was no choice but to drag this dead weight along.

So this is what a Rank 7 Advancement feels like, I guess. When I was grinding at Rank 9, I had the Blood King siccing his entire guild on me and even roped in those islander clowns for good measure. But now, even the goddamn stars are screwing with me.

His bad luck was getting so ridiculous that it almost deserved a standing ovation. And as if the world had heard his whining, a new quest announcement popped up in front of him.