Forsaken Hunter

Chapter 5: Baptism in Blood A Desperate Entry

Chapter 5 - Baptism in Blood A Desperate EntryThe E-Rank dungeon gate loomed before Beno Mark, a swirling vortex of shadow and light, pulsing like a wound torn between worlds.

Its edges churned with an otherworldly energy, tendrils of darkness curling outward, whispering of danger and power in a language he couldn't grasp.

The air crackled, an electric hum prickling his skin, stirring the hairs on his neck. His fists clenched tight, knuckles whitening, a resolve hardening in his chest—forged in grief, tempered by desperation.

This is it. My shot. I'll claw my way out of this weakness... for Renzo.

He drew a shaky breath, the gate's eerie glow casting jagged shadows across his face, igniting the fire in his hazel eyes.

The light danced in his gaze, a flicker of hope warring with doubt as he took a step forward—only to freeze. A towering security guard in black combat gear blocked his path, a wall of muscle and authority.

The clank of his gear echoed faintly, his shadowed face unreadable beneath a stern helmet, his raised hand a steel barrier.

"ID and hunter proof," the guard growled, voice a low, monotone rumble that demanded obedience, cutting through the gate's hum like a blade.

Beno's heart stuttered, a cold jolt spiking through him. "I..." He swallowed, the words bitter, scraping his throat. "I don't have one."

The guard's eyes narrowed, a glint of disdain sharpening his gaze. "Then you're not getting in." His tone was final, a door slamming shut.

Frustration erupted—a hot, churning tide flooding Beno's chest, threatening to drown the fragile spark he'd clung to.

How am I supposed to get stronger if I can't even start?!

The rejection hit like a shove, knocking him back. He stumbled away, legs unsteady, until his back scraped against the rough bark of a nearby tree. He slid down, collapsing into the dirt, hands gripping his hair as if he could tear the despair from his skull. No way out... I'm trapped—weak, useless, nothing.

The wind rustled through the leaves overhead, a mournful sigh weaving through the branches, tugging at his tattered resolve.

His vision blurred, tears stinging, hovering on the edge as he stared at the ground—lost in the storm of his own failure. He didn't hear the footsteps, didn't see the shadow until a voice cut through, sharp and smooth.

"You look lost."

Beno blinked, the words jarring him back. He lifted his head, tears catching in his lashes, and met the gaze of a girl standing over him.

She smirked, confident and unshaken, her short pink hair catching the gate's glow like a defiant flame. Her black combat suit hugged her frame, sleek and worn, the hunter emblem glinting on her chest—a stark contrast to his ragged shirt and broken spirit.

"You a new hunter?" she asked, tilting her head, voice light but edged with curiosity.

He shook his head, slow and heavy, the motion a confession. "No."

Her brow arched, smirk twitching. "Then what're you doing here? Get turned around or something?" Her tone teased, playful, but her eyes—sharp, piercing—studied him like she could see through his skin.

Beno's voice came quiet, firm despite the tremor in his chest. "I want to enter the dungeon."

She paused, surprise flickering before her smirk widened. "Why?"

His fists clenched tighter, nails biting into his palms, drawing faint lines of pain as resolve flared—hot, unyielding. "To fight those damned creatures... and get stronger." For him. For me.

She whistled low, a spark of amusement dancing in her gaze. "Youthful passion, huh? I like it." Then her expression softened, turning thoughtful, a shadow passing over her face. "Well... maybe I can help."

She extended a hand, grin returning with a mischievous twist. "Name's Clara. You?"

"Beno Mark," he said after a beat, voice steadying as he took her hand, her grip firm and warm against his clammy skin.

Clara tilted her head, eyes lingering with a strange,

She thrust her hands forward—scorching flames erupted, a roaring inferno slamming into the walls. Fire blazed, melting stone, carving a narrow gap in a burst of heat and fury. Smoke stung his eyes, embers danced like fallen stars, the air suffocating with ash.

"Get inside—now!" she barked, shoving Beno toward the opening, her grip iron on his shaking shoulders.

He hesitated, eyes darting—hounds snarling, his team bleeding. I can't leave them... I can't—

"No buts!" Clara snapped, cutting through his doubt. "We've got this—stay hidden, keep quiet!"

A monstrous howl split the air—a hound lunged, jaws gaping. Clara threw up a wall of flame, forcing it back—its fur singed, its roar twisting into a snarl of pain as it recoiled.

Beno's fists clenched, shame burning hotter than the fire. Hiding... like a damn coward... His legs shook, resisting, but fear won. He forced himself into the gap—stone scraped his skin, tearing his clothes, each inch a battle against his own disgust.

Through the crack, he saw them—silhouettes in firelight, fighting, bleeding, struggling. His breath hitched, chest tight as he pressed against the stone, helpless.

Then—the nightmare ignited.

Hunter 1 faltered, breaths ragged, sweat gleaming. A hound lunged—its steel jaws clamped his arm and tore.

Flesh ripped, bone snapped—his scream ripped through the cave, raw and guttural, echoing as hounds swarmed. They shredded him—limbs torn, blood pooling, cries fading to wet gasps, then silence.

Hunter 3 dropped, vomiting, hands shaking. "No... no, no, no—" Terror stripped him bare, voice a broken plea.

A shadow loomed—massive, oppressive.

A 13-foot, three-headed beast emerged—Houndler. Matted black fur bristled, each snarling head a nightmare of iron fangs and red eyes burning with hunger. The ground quaked under its claws, stone cracking like brittle bone.

Hunter 3 spun to shout—"Run!"—but too late.

A head lunged—crunch. His upper body vanished in a spray of blood, legs crumpling like a broken doll.

Clara screamed—flames exploded, a wildfire consuming the cave in an orange roar, heat warping the air.

The Houndler didn't flinch.

It stepped forward, claws gouging stone, heads locked on its prey.

Clara staggered, blood dripping, body trembling under the weight of her fight.

She'd burned everything—mana, strength, will—but it wasn't enough. Her arms shook, vision blurring as the Houndler loomed, its red eyes blazing like hellfire.

In that final heartbeat, her gaze found Beno—cowering in the gap, wide-eyed, helpless.

For a split second, it wasn't him.

It was her little brother.

Desperate eyes, pleading, fragile—a memory crashing through her: a boy clutching her hand, begging her not to leave, a promise she'd shattered. Her lips trembled, but she forced a soft smile, faint and warm—a last gift through the pain.

"I saved you..." Her voice was weak, breaking, but steady. "That's all that matters."

She paused, breath hitching, eyes locking on his. "Beno... be strong." And protect my brother...

The beast struck.

Crunch.

Clara vanished in its jaws—consumed in an instant, her smile lingering like a ghost.

Beno's heart stopped.

His breath snagged, a cold void swallowing him whole. Clara... she saved me.

Her Lifeless eaten body was—all that remained—landed near the gap, blood pooling, stark against the stone.

Dread clawed his spine, icy and sharp. His stomach twisted, tears blurring as bile surged. She smiled... for me... He bit his lip—hard—blood seeping, nails digging into his arms, carving red lines as he shook. Why? Why am I so weak? Why did I just watch?

His breaths shattered, mind screaming—guilt, rage, helplessness crashing in waves. His body froze, locked in the gap, eyes fixed on the horror.

The Houndler turned—its red eyes locked onto him, burning through the dark.

Outside, Luna paced beneath the evening sky, arms crossed, foot tapping a restless rhythm against the dirt.

The cool air carried unease, but it was nothing compared to the fear gnawing her chest—sharp, relentless. She'd been waiting for Beno, each minute stretching into an eternity, her nerves fraying like worn thread.

Hunters murmured nearby, eyes flicking to the dungeon display. Luna glanced up—and her heart froze.

"1/4."

One survivor. Three dead.

A chill stabbed her spine, realization crashing like a fist to her gut—three gone, one trapped. Her fingers clenched, nails biting her palms as her throat tightened.

Beno... are you alive? She couldn't face it—the worst—but dread clawed deeper, a shadow she couldn't shake.

"No... no, no..." Her whisper slipped out, voice lost, heart pounding a desperate countdown.

A guild official barked into his comms, voice tight. "A cursed gate... Shit! We need a team—now!"

Luna grabbed his arm, nails digging hard, desperation cracking her voice. "Can we check the survivor?! Please—someone's alive in there!" Her eyes pleaded, wide and glistening.

He hesitated, jaw tight. "Can't see inside. It's cursed—monsters way past E-rank."

Her vision blurred, tears threatening. Beno, please... hold on. She pressed her hands together, lips moving in a silent prayer. "Lord, don't take him..."

The gate's red glow pulsed, sealing the horrors within—a heartbeat of doom.

Inside, the Houndler's eyes burned, fixed on Beno.

The hunt wasn't over.

[To Be Continued...]