[Black Serpent Guild]

The Black Serpent Guild was always watchful, its tendrils of influence stretching far and wide, monitoring every significant dungeon and guild. Cyrus’s dungeon was no exception.

At first, it seemed unremarkable, just another lair to be plundered. But things quickly took a darker turn.

When the group of hunters was sent into the dungeon, the guild had expected reports of treasures, strategies, and monster weaknesses.

Instead, what they got was silence.

Days passed, and not a single hunter returned—except one.

"Hey! Did he run away?"

The guards stationed at the outskirts of the dungeon muttered among themselves as a lone figure stumbled out.

The man’s appearance was enough to draw attention—his clothes were tattered, his body bruised and bloodied, his face pale as if he’d seen death itself.

The guards rushed to him, their expressions a mix of concern and suspicion.

"Hey, are you alright?" one of them asked, gripping the man’s arm to steady him.

Samuel, disguised as a different hunter, nodded weakly, feigning exhaustion.

"Yes… I’m fine," he croaked, his voice trembling just enough to seem genuine.

His condition was convincing.

The gashes on his armor, the dried blood on his hands, the hollow look in his eyes—everything painted a picture of a man who had barely escaped with his life.

"What happened in there?" another guard asked, his tone sharp, laced with curiosity.

Samuel hesitated, as if struggling to recall the horrors he had witnessed.

"It was chaos," he said, his voice cracking.

"The monsters… they were unlike anything we’ve faced before. They were too strong. The others… they didn’t stand a chance."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances.

It wasn’t uncommon for hunters to overestimate their abilities and get wiped out in dungeons, but Samuel’s account felt different—more harrowing.

"And you?" a guard asked, narrowing his eyes. "How did you survive?"

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Samuel lowered his head, his shoulders slumping in what seemed like shame.

"I… I ran away," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I got scared. I knew I couldn’t fight them. So I turned back… I don’t even know what happened to the others. They were still fighting when I fled."

The guards stared at him, their expressions softening.

Cowardice wasn’t uncommon among hunters, and in the face of death, many chose survival over valor.

Samuel’s act was flawless—his trembling hands, his quivering voice, the subtle guilt etched into his features.

Neither the guards nor the spies planted by the Black Serpent Guild suspected him.

After all, why would they?

Hunters fleeing from dangerous dungeons was nothing new.

Samuel, however, was not merely a hunter fleeing for his life.

He was a man on a mission, one that left him equally terrified and determined.

As he staggered away from the dungeon’s outskirts, his heart pounded in his chest.

He knew he had to convince his guildmaster, Kevin, to venture into this dungeon.

But how could he?

The image of Cyrus’s glowing green eyes, the unyielding power in his presence, haunted Samuel’s thoughts.

Every step he took was heavy with fear, and yet, there was no turning back now.

The surveillance team stationed around Cyrus’s dungeon noted nothing out of the ordinary that day.

To them, Samuel was just another coward who had barely escaped with his life.

They reported the incident to Black Serpent without much thought.

But Samuel, behind his facade of injuries and fear, carried secrets that could shake the balance of power.

And he wasn’t the only one who was about to gamble everything in this game of monsters and hunters.

---

A few days later, a similar but far more suspicious incident occurred.

Hunters entered Cyrus’s dungeon as usual, but this time, only four emerged.

Unlike Samuel, these hunters didn’t appear gravely injured.

Their armor was intact, their expressions calm, and their movements steady.

This was highly unusual, considering the danger that the dungeon had demonstrated before.

The spies stationed near the portal immediately took note of this anomaly and reported it to their superiors.

The matter quickly escalated, reaching the intelligence department of the Black Serpent Guild.

The department head of intelligence, a sharp-eyed man named Arlen, wasted no time in visiting Cain, the vice guild master of Black Serpent.

Cain, known for his ruthlessness and strategic mind, sat at his desk when Arlen entered the room.

“What is it?” Cain asked, his tone cold and direct.

“Sir, we’ve discovered something unusual,” Arlen began, placing a thick folder on Cain’s desk.

Cain raised an eyebrow. “Unusual how?”

Arlen flipped open the folder, revealing documents and photographs.

“Four hunters exited the dungeon recently. They didn’t look injured at all, which is already odd considering the dungeon’s reputation. So, we dug into their identities. It turns out all four IDs are fake.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening.

“Show me the footage,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Yes, sir,” Arlen replied, gesturing to his team.

A projector was quickly set up, and grainy footage of the dungeon portal began to play on a nearby screen.

At first, everything seemed normal.

The hunters entered the dungeon, the portal shimmering ominously behind them.

Time passed, and then the four hunters reappeared.

Cain’s sharp green eyes scanned the screen intently, picking apart every detail.

“Wait. Stop,” Cain barked, leaning forward in his chair.

Arlen froze the footage.

“Zoom in on those men,” Cain instructed, pointing to the four hunters.

The image on the screen sharpened, focusing on the faces of the hunters.

Cain studied them carefully, his jaw tightening as a realization hit him like a thunderclap.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching. “That’s the Demonic Guild.”

Arlen’s eyes widened. “Are you sure, sir?”

Cain shot him a withering glare.

“I don’t need to guess. This is their handiwork. No other guild would fake identities to infiltrate a dungeon like this. They’ve interfered, and they’re probably working with whatever monster resides inside.”

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Get a message to Lionheart immediately. Inform them that the Demonic Guild is involved in this dungeon. We’ll support them to eliminate both the guild and the dungeon.”

Arlen hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Cain began pacing, his mind racing.

The Demonic Guild—those traitorous hunters who side with monsters for their own gain.

If they’re here, it means trouble.

“What’s their game?” Cain muttered, his voice low but furious.

“Are they trying to accelerate the dungeon’s growth? Sacrificing weak hunters and civilians to make it stronger?”

The possibility chilled him.

While he had no concrete proof of this theory, it was exactly the sort of underhanded tactic the Demonic Guild was known for.

And if they were strengthening the dungeon, it wasn’t just a threat to Black Serpent—it was a threat to every guild in the region.

Cain slammed his fist on the table, his green eyes blazing with resolve.

"We won’t let them get away with this.”

His orders were clear: the Demonic Guild had to be destroyed, and the dungeon had to fall.

There was no room for hesitation.