Chapter 48: [ELI’S FIRST DUNGEON RAID]

“Oh? Did I not mention it?” Caelen’s voice was smooth, too smooth—an edge of amusement undercut by something that made shivers run straight down Eli’s spine.

’Don’t tell me…’ Eli instinctively took a few steps back, putting the smallest possible distance between himself and Caelen.

“Only Elione and I will be doing this A-Class gate.”

The words landed like a thunderclap.

The crowd gasped as one, the murmur swelling into a frenzy. Flashbulbs popped like miniature explosions, the reporters’ voices colliding in a storm of overlapping demands.

“Just you and Elione?!”

“Caelen, why are you not taking your team with you?!”

“Elione, you seem surprised! Were you not aware of this?”

“Caelen, why is it just you and Elione? Do you really think this is safe?!”

Eli’s mouth went dry. He also wanted to ask if this was safe—if they were seriously doing this.

This was going to be his first ever dungeon raid, and now he was going in alone with Caelen?

Sure, Caelen was one of the strongest S-Class hunters alive, and yes, an A-Class dungeon might be child’s play to him.

But without a full team? It was still an A-Class dungeon. And the only other person going in would be him—a B-Class support hunter, not even a healer.

With Caelen’s particular fighting style, the thought didn’t exactly fill Eli with confidence.

Even Caelen’s team didn’t look convinced. Punzo stepped forward first, lowering his voice to a near-whisper. “Hey, Captain. It’s not that I’m doubting your abilities or anything… but are you sure about this? Don’t you want to at least bring us for backup? We can stay on the side, keep clear unless you need us—”

“I agree,” Jabby said, her brows drawn tight. “Although, we don’t doubt you can do this, this is still an A-Class gate, you know?”

Arman didn’t speak, but the slight dip of his head told Eli he was siding with them.

Caelen only chuckled. “I appreciate my team’s concern,” he said lightly, though Eli could feel the subtle shift in his tone—a thin thread of tension running under the words. “But I am sure that Eli and I can handle this.”

Then he turned away from them, back to the flashing cameras, his voice rising with perfect clarity.

“What’s the point of being the strongest S-Class hunter if I can’t clear one A-Class gate, am I right?”

The crowd erupted.

Applause, cheers, and calls of admiration poured in from every side. The ’Nation’s Prince’ was dazzling them again, his charm blinding enough to drown out any protest.

Eli glanced at the team. Jabby, Arman, and Punzo still looked unconvinced, but their expressions made it clear they knew better than to argue once Caelen had made up his mind.

Eli had only known him for a few hours, but even he could tell—Caelen had never heard the word no in his life.

’And fuck, we’re not even wearing any gear. We’re wearing civilian clothing and then going inside a dungeon? Seriously…’

When the crowd’s cheers reached their peak, Caelen finally looked back toward the gate. His gaze slid to Eli, who was visibly trembling despite trying to hide it. “Are you ready?”

’I want to say no so badly.’

But he needed to do this.

Eli swallowed hard, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “…Yes, I’m ready.”

Caelen’s smirk returned. “Let’s head in, then.”

Without another word, he stepped through the shimmering portal.

Eli hesitated, his eyes flicking to the team one last time.

“Good luck, Elione,” Jabby said sincerely.

“You can do this!” Punzo added with a grin, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Take care of our captain,” Arman told him.

’Not if I die first.’ Eli gave them a weak smile before turning back to the gate.

The moment he stepped forward, the world shifted. The roar of the crowd vanished instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence.

A biting cold wrapped around him, sinking straight through his clothes.

And as Eli’s eyes adjusted, he finally saw the terrain—tall, ancient walls, the air damp with the scent of moss and stone. They were inside a building… a massive structure built entirely of cold, weathered stone.

Above them, two sleek black drones hovered, their quiet hum blending with the faint echo of their footsteps.

The tiny red lights on their undersides blinked rhythmically, capturing every second of the raid for the Association’s broadcast feed. Eli’s gaze flicked upward briefly, but he quickly forced himself to focus on the ground ahead.

“Now this is interesting,” Caelen murmured, one hand settling casually on his hip. His voice carried that infuriating mix of curiosity and self-assurance. “It seems we’re inside a church.”

“A church? How could you tell?” Eli asked, brow furrowing.

Caelen lifted a finger and pointed toward the walls. Etched deep into the cold stone were rows of carvings—figures kneeling in reverence before a taller, robed form that looked like some sort of priest.

Only, the more Eli looked, the less human those figures seemed.

The limbs were wrong. The proportions were off. Some of the carvings were warped or defaced entirely, faces and shapes twisted until they were barely recognizable.

A faint chill traced the back of Eli’s neck. Something about the uneven gouges and worn edges made it feel like the walls were watching them.

“Who would’ve thought we’d get inside a dungeon with a church…” he muttered under his breath.

Still, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He could recall—vaguely—either Kairo or Caelen once raiding a dungeon with a sprawling castle.

But still… a church?

“Do you feel anything?” Caelen asked without looking back.

Eli shook his head. “No.”

“Then, let’s walk ahead.”

Reluctantly, Eli nodded and followed as Caelen strode deeper into the stone chamber. He kept a deliberate distance, eyes darting to every shadow as his boots clicked against the uneven floor.

’It doesn’t feel like a church at all. It mostly seems like an abandoned temple.’

The stale air hung heavy in his lungs, thick with a faint metallic tang. The deeper they went, the stronger the strange, crawling sensation at the edges of his awareness became.

The silence between them was absolute, save for the measured rhythm of their footsteps.

’Isn’t it too quiet here?’

In most dungeons, monsters appeared almost immediately—posted like sentinels to guard treasures, corridors, or the boss chamber itself.

But here, there were no treasures, resources, nothing. No signs of movement. Nothing but endless stone and—

“Are those…” Eli tilted his head back. “Those are grotesques, right?”

Caelen glanced at him. “Grotesques?”

Eli nodded, pointing toward the misshapen statues crouched high above. They clung to the upper arches, all jagged angles and stretched limbs, their fanged mouths twisted in eternal sneers.

“They’re the ugly statues—kind of similar to gargoyles. They’re usually made to ward off evil spirits or beings—” He cut himself off with a sudden, sharp intake of breath. “—what the fuck?!”

He could’ve sworn one of the grotesques had just moved. Not much—just the faintest tilt of its head—but enough to make his stomach knot.

“What?” Caelen’s eyes narrowed.

“I-I uh…” Eli blinked rapidly, not sure if he should even say it. Maybe it was just his nerves messing with him.

“Elione, what is it?” Caelen’s tone was calm, but edged with alertness now.

Eli opened his mouth to brush it off with a quick Nothing—

But then he felt it.

The sudden twitch in the air. The sharp spike of pressure in his skull. That pulsing, splintering headache that he knew far too well.

He didn’t need to see it to know.

He sensed danger.

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