The Gate That Would Not Break

From the hunters' talk just now, I had them as A-Rank.

The usual hunter stories climbed all the way to S-Rank, so those men probably sat somewhere in the top ten percent — and even then, they were no great threat to me. What I still didn't know was what an S-Rank could actually do. Read the novels, and the gulf was always said to open at S-Rank, with an even wider spread of skill inside that rank itself. Taking the men I'd just met as my measure felt like not enough.

If A-Rank hunters were moving as a pack, they had to belong somewhere. A guild, or the Association. Once word got out that their trail had died in this place, more people would be sent to look into it, and I could take this world's measure again then.

I'd learned I was inside a gate before the next party could be dispatched, which meant I also needed to know where the way in and out was.

Gate Break was the iron rule of every gate-hunter story. Leave a gate uncleared past a set time, and it ran wild, until the monsters inside could come spilling out. I had spent decades here — longer than that — and not once had the monsters strayed far from their own dens. Yet hunters had only just arrived, and they took this for the dungeon where Kangcheoli laired. Maybe the ground I'd been living on had only now become a gate.

What I had to do was find this gate's entrance.

I was content enough with life here. Even so, for the first time in a very long while, I wanted to see the world I used to live in. A ripple moved across a heart that had been still for ages.

I came out of the cave and threw my enormous wings open with everything I had. A savage wind rose as they spread. The trees around me shuddered, and dust went whirling into the air. I drew a deep breath, stamped the earth with powerful legs, and launched. The moment my body shot skyward, a vast shadow covered the land.

One beat of my wings and I was climbing at tremendous speed, the wind wrapping my body. Familiar country slid into view, and I worked my wings onward.

If this place had become a gate, a boundary would have formed. Fly straight on, find the point where I could go no farther, then look for the entrance.

Only after about fifteen minutes in the air did I find the edge of the space.

It wasn't a question of hardness. Even I couldn't break this easily. I lashed it with my tail at full strength and hammered it with my foreclaws, and the boundary of space shattered only to knit itself back together the instant it broke. Waiting for a Gate Break would be the wiser course.

The hunters' clothes hadn't carried any particular film of dust, so the gate likely wasn't hanging in empty sky. I eased my altitude down and circled.

If the boundary of this space was a circle, walking the face of the wall would turn the entrance up soon enough. A dragon's body, with nothing but time to spare, pleased me all the more at a moment like this.

The gate wasn't hard to find. I flew straight out from the cave, walked right for about three minutes, and the entrance was there.

It wasn't much different from what I'd pictured. A great vertical oval was carved into the boundary of space, and a tremendous current of mana ran along the pattern. Almost as if it were telling me to pass through, the gate was roughly my own size. I looked at it and reached out a foreclaw.

"Tch."

A grinding crack — fierce repulsion slammed into the claw and flung it back. Harder than the spatial boundary itself. The mana shoved against me violently, as if to say it wasn't time yet. Dragon or not, the rule looked to be the same. Before a Gate Break, there was no getting out.

Wait out front for the hunters, and the moment they cross the gate, take my shot?

That was the only way I could think of to leave before a Gate Break. Waiting blind for them would be a little uncomfortable, the way the ground was.

Slowly, I spread my wings. They cut the air, and the branches and blades of grass around me shook hard. I drew a deep breath and beat my wings with force.

The wind pressure tore through the surroundings. A gale rose like a typhoon and blew away everything nearby. Trees that had stood thick, and the rocks among them, ripped free and flew as if a tsunami had passed, until nothing was left but a bare clearing.

"Now this is somewhere I can actually rest."

Satisfaction settled over ground I'd scoured clean. So this was why people told you to clean often. It felt good.

I took my place in front of the gate, folded my wings, and sat. Now all that was left was to wait for the hunters to come.

"How long has it been since I sent them in to scout, and they're still not back."

I didn't know how many times I'd already glared at my wristwatch. The teammates I'd sent to scout still hadn't returned.

A B-Rank gate whose master was Kangcheoli — even if a strengthened variant turned up, a team of seven A-Ranks shouldn't have had any real trouble scouting it. And yet we were already six hours past the time I'd expected them done.

Once a hunter entered a gate, no one else could go in. Not until they finished the scout by killing the boss, or until every one of them was dead and no hunter remained inside. On top of that, any electronics carried into a dungeon died the way they would under an EMP. They simply did not work. I had no way to reach them at all.

The Association didn't have many people who could replace them, either. Losing them would hurt down to the bone. More than that, I absolutely refused to let die the bastards I'd come to care for — irritation and affection, both.

I was forcing the growing anxiety down, trying to drag my thoughts somewhere brighter, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when the phone rang.

Right. Those idiots finished the scout ages ago and they're slacking because they don't want more work. Has to be.

At the assistant supervisor's certainty, my body swayed.

I'd eaten from the same pot as those guys for six years already. Brothers to me, older and younger — wiped out in a single moment. A hollow fury boiled through my whole body. I hung up and dialed again at once.

The President was silent for a moment, as if sunk in thought.

I could guess at that silence. He was weighing whether the Association really had to scout a gate that had already killed seven A-Rank hunters. Hand the request to a high-ranking guild, and we wouldn't have to spill our own blood. I knew that was the right call.

But the revenge for brothers I'd shared a pot with for six years — I wanted that by my own hand.

I couldn't bring myself to answer the President's last words.

I'd already stepped back from the front line. A has-been. Rot and all, though, this was a body that had made its name as a former S-Rank hunter. With upper A-Rank hunters beside me, I was confident I could pay my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠little brothers back, and then some.

I looked into the mirror and ran a hand along the scar that slashed a long line across my forehead. A wound from the last dungeon I'd entered with them, before I retired.

Slowly, I quieted my heart. I'd lived long enough to learn that even rage fit to burst had to be let out only when it counted. Waiting on the President's call, I checked over my body for the first time in a long while.

The pulse of mana in front of the gate brought me up off the ground where I'd been lying. Someone was about to come out.

The mana was scattering, little by little, and I knew on instinct that someone was emerging from the gate. If I drove a body reinforced with every drop of mana I had into it now, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I might be able to get outside. Before that, I would scatter the mana wrapped around the gate.

I drew in a breath and gathered into my mouth the mana and flame boiling in my heart. The heat of the fire pooled there melted the earth, and the ground went soft beneath me. Then I spat the mouthful of flame at the gate.

The fire left me all at once, melting every stretch of earth in its path, and crashed into the gate. The gate's mana and the flame struck, and began to cancel each other out.

Even a breath — gather it only halfway and fire, and I still couldn't punch all the way through?

The breath had already died, and the gate hung open, incomplete. I wrapped my body in mana at once and threw myself at it.

A splintering crack—!!!

The gate's barrier strained to fling back a dragon's body driving in like a brute. But the gate was already half open, and the breath had scattered a good deal of its mana. Little by little, my body was pushing through to the inside.

Yes. Keep this up, and I get out.

The moment about half of me had passed through, a tremendous explosion blew me back out again.

I shook my head, threw off the impact, and looked at where the gate had been. The place warped and reformed, over and over, mana jumping like sparks.

"So a cheap trick won't do."

A little hollow — but better to have learned it quickly. I worked my mouth, watching the gate slowly restore itself, and a wetness on the bridge of my snout made me reach up a foreclaw and touch it.

"What's this?"

The stark red, raw-smelling liquid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on my claw was telling me it was blood.

"Not mine. Whose, then? The hunters who were entering the gate?"

Only then did I realize that the foreign matter mixed into the blood was bone. A small pity stirred.