The Challenger's Resolve
The Challenger Guild was one that consistently produced solid results every season with a mindset that could be summed up in a single phrase:
There was an old saying in the league that a guild’s fate was determined by its name. The Challenger Guild was living proof of that.
Just like their name suggested, they produced an absurd number of outstanding rookies and had proudly secured a spot among the major guilds.
But no one could remain a challenger forever.
The Challenger Guild was now looking for an opportunity to take the next leap forward.
Together with the greatest hunter they had ever produced—the woman standing here, ranked 19th in Korea, the Black Star Princess Yeon.
“Fall back.”
The moment the tanks retreated, Princess Yeon slammed her black staff into the ground. A tremor rippled outward, and from the damp soil rose countless white bones.
A legion of shield-bearing skeletons appeared on the battlefield, followed by skeleton archers, then mages…
A total of 1,999.
The massive skeletal army stood with eerie blue flames flickering in their eye sockets, awaiting their master’s command.
Princess Yeon pointed her staff forward—toward the incoming wave of giant insects.
“Advance.”
At once, the wave of insects collided with the legion of bones.
Skeletons were smashed apart, shields and all, by the charge of ant-like creatures the size of bulls. But spears, axes, and polearms soon pierced the insects’ bodies in return.
Then a massive shadow fell over the battlefield.
A storm of arrows unleashed by the skeleton archers rained down from above. The insects writhed and spewed bodily fluids.
This was the true power of the darkest star—Black Star.
The overwhelming force of sheer numbers. It was a terrifying performance only a top-tier necromancer capable of summoning an entire legion could display.
And the Challenger Guild supported Princess Yeon with absolute precision.
They had wide-area buffers to boost the overall combat strength of the skeleton legion, long-range dealers with high damage output, and even their tanks were buffer-type rather than pure tanks.
Everything in the Challenger Guild revolved around her like satellites orbiting a star.
That was why she noticed it first.
“The mana consumption is different…”
The higher one’s level, the deeper their understanding of their own abilities became. That was only natural.
By the time someone reached the ranker level, they should be able to estimate how much mana a fight would require before it even began. Predicting mana expenditure was the absolute basics.
Yet… this was different from her calculations.
Princess Yeon’s pale brow furrowed.
Why? She sent a radio message to double-check, and the reply came back almost immediately, as if they had been waiting.
— “I was just about to say something. These things are weirdly tough.”
“Explain in detail.”
— “Well, as you know, Captain, even though there are a ton of them, they’re not supposed to have high defense, right?”
That was correct.
The Hell of Giant Insects was infamous for its hellish population, but the individual strength of each monster was surprisingly low. The main reason was the characteristically weak defense of insect-type monsters.
Yet the insects they were fighting now were subtly tougher than usual.
— “I’ll show you. Watch this, Captain.”
“Go ahead.”
Princess Yeon swept her palm over one eye. Her pupil turned completely black, like the abyss itself.
Flash!
In that instant, her vision switched to that of a skeleton standing in the middle of the battlefield.
The ones locked in fierce combat on the front line.
There, Min-jae—the one who had just spoken on the radio—made a show of it by ripping the leg off one of the insects.
— “See? It should’ve come off easily, but it took longer than normal. You watching, Captain?”
“Confirmed. Is this happening to everyone?”
Then the radio messages poured in.
— “It’s not just that they’re tough. Their attack power is slightly higher too.”
— “I thought it was the same as usual, but I already had to drink an entire potion.”
— “The fluids they spray when you kill them used to just cause itching or dizziness, but now my body feels a bit heavy. I think we’re dealing with some kind of poison.”
This wasn’t their first time entering the ‘Hell of Giant Insects’ gate.
Because of the terrible environment, they really didn’t want to come, but because of the league, they had to visit at least once a year.
These hunters, who had attempted this gate anywhere from three to over ten times, were all saying in unison that something was off.
There was no denying it. Yes… something was definitely wrong.
Princess Yeon’s cool-headed reason whispered to her.
Some unknown situation was unfolding. They needed to retreat for a moment and assess the situation.
‘But…’
Stopping the offensive right now wouldn’t be easy.
A raid party didn’t run on logic alone. If they hit the brakes on the very first day, right at the entrance to the field, their momentum would die.
To ordinary people, momentum might sound like nothing more than vague mentalism, but for players who fought on the field, momentum was an incredibly important factor.
‘If pride dies, doubt is born. If doubt takes root, distrust follows. Distrust destroys teamwork and eventually leaves you unable to even trust yourself…’
These were words she had learned from a senior she respected, and she deeply agreed with them.
And that wasn’t all. If they stumbled right from the start, all the plans that followed would fall apart.
Therefore—
‘We have to push forward. Whether it becomes porridge or rice, we have to run first.’
At the very least, they needed to reach the first base camp.
Princess Yeon stamped her staff on the ground, and a hexagram magic circle rose into the air.
At that moment, the skeleton legion emitted an even more ferocious aura.
They abandoned defense entirely and began slaughtering the swarm of insects. In response, the Challenger raid team also picked up their pace.
“I’ll hold off the Sand Worm. The rest of you, seal the holes first.”
At Princess Yeon’s calm command, the formation split apart.
The raid team charged toward the pits that endlessly spat out waves of insects, while the skeletons drove their weapons into the Sand Worm’s body.
A fierce, bloody battle.
Although an unknown variable had twisted the flow of the fight, the Challenger Guild was still demonstrating why they were a major guild with a ranker—showing their true strength as they brought the battle to a close.
But then—
“…What the hell?”
“…This vibration. No way.”
“No, that can’t be. We’re still at the entrance.”
A sudden tremor shook the earth.
No way. No way. No way?
As if mocking their thoughts, the ground suddenly swelled up like a ripe boil.
The earth split open in an instant.
Kakkkkk—!!
More Sand Worms and monster waves poured out!
A second wave at the very entrance? They had attempted this gate multiple times, but this had never happened before.
It was an undeniable emergency.
In the end, Princess Yeon had no choice but to give the order.
“Everyone, retreat.”
The Challenger raid team pulled back.
Something was wrong. The gate that had once felt familiar now felt completely alien.
.
·
And the moment the Challenger raid team left the battlefield—
“Are they gone?”
“They’re gone.”
“Should I shoot?”
“Shoot.”
Yu Ri-ra, who had been hiding in the bushes, pulled the trigger.
Kwaaaaang—!!
Puuk—
The Sand Worm that had just endured the skeleton legion’s assault was crushed like tofu.
“That’s two down! Yay~!”
“Good work.”
Clap!
The two of them stood up and exchanged a high-five.
“But Senior, isn’t this super weird? Everything is going exactly as he said it would!”
“I’m curious too. How on earth does he know all this?”
Yu Ri-ra and Kim Yu-shin simultaneously thought of the same person, as if they had made a promise.
* * *
This story took place a few days earlier, back when they were in the middle of preparing for the competitive raid battle.
During their usual group training session, Kim Jong-pil suddenly pulled Yu Ri-ra and Kim Yu-shin out of the session.
“You two, head straight to the auditorium.”
“Huh?”
“The auditorium, sir?”
“Yes. I told you that your roles in this competitive raid battle are crucial. That’s why I’ve specially arranged for someone to train you. Go receive instruction from that person.”
“!!”
“!!”
A separate trainer?
These days, role-specific training and personal coaching weren’t all that unusual for guilds. Some even went as far as the Sword Master, who had an entire dedicated team under the name “Road Management.”
But the person in front of them was the Mountain King, Kim Jong-pil.
He was an old-school veteran who treated this training ground as sacred and believed that teamwork was the very heart of any raid party.
Yet such a stubborn man was entrusting their training to someone else?
The two headed to the auditorium with shocked expressions.
And there they came face to face with the person in question.
“Representative Oppa?”
“Representative-nim, what is this about…”
“Hehe. You seem to have the wrong person. I am Professor Lee, the man responsible for your training.”
Wearing a white lab coat and laughing with a theatrical “huhu,” it was none other than Lee Shin… or rather, Professor Lee.
The antique glasses taped together with clear tape spun dramatically on his face.
At first, the two were completely bewildered about what was going on.
Yu Ri-ra had even used her magic power to search for hidden cameras, wondering if this was some kind of prank show.
But their confusion lasted only a moment. Once the lesson began, the two quickly fell under the spell of the demonic Professor Lee.
“We will skip over the rules and basic format of the competitive raid battle. I am not your kind Representative. I am Professor Lee, and I am here to teach you harshly.”
Even before the real training began, Professor Lee presented the competitive raid battle from a completely new perspective.
“Just as it’s important to understand the examiner’s intentions in a test, we must look at this competitive raid battle from the Bureau’s point of view.”
‘You must not attack the opposing team.’
If you interpreted that differently, it became: ‘As long as you don’t attack the opposing team, you can do whatever the hell you want.’
“It’s perfectly fine to steal monsters that the other side is trying to claim. It’s also fine to snatch away or scatter the monster packs they’ve gathered. What if you shamelessly conserve your stamina and strike right when your opponent is exhausted? What’s the problem? You didn’t attack them, did you!”
Just from this much, the Bureau’s intention was clear.
They wanted conflict and fights.
They called it competition, but in the end, they wanted everyone to suffer horribly amid countless variables.
Why? Were they sadists? Or were they simply obsessed with ratings?
Those answers seemed plausible, but they were wrong.
The real reason was something else.
“They want to create stronger hunters.”
Harsher environments. Far more variables.
And even stronger monsters.
They wanted hunters to grow even stronger in the face of all these threats.
“And ultimately, the Bureau’s goal is to clear even more gates—specifically, ‘unauthorized gates.’”
“!!”
“!!”
The two widened their eyes in shock.
It felt like they had stumbled upon some enormous, unexpected secret. And that was exactly what had happened.
But Professor Lee skipped over that part. It wasn’t necessary for them yet.
“What you two must remember right now is that ‘the Bureau wants conflict.’ Now, with that knowledge, let’s look at the competitive raid battle again. Doesn’t it look different?”
“You’re right. In the end, ‘competition’ comes first.”
Did the Bureau want a pure contest of who could kill more monsters faster? Or did they want a bloody brawl filled with every dirty trick imaginable?
The Bureau wanted the latter.
Therefore, they had to actively utilize the latter method in accordance with the examiner’s intentions.
Professor Lee drew a slash through the words on the whiteboard.
From “Competitive Raid Battle” to “Competition / Raid Battle.”
“From now on, we will separate competition and raid battle like this.”
Competition was competition. A raid battle was a raid battle.
People tended to lump the two together because of the name “competitive raid battle,” but Professor Lee explained that this was the correct approach.
“The raid battle must be carried out far more solidly than a normal raid. The current trend of time attacks? I guarantee you’ll regret it from the very first day.”
“On the other hand, the competition must be cunning. It’s not just about interfering with the opponent. You need the cunning to secure points for our team in the midst of that chaos! That is what we need.”
The strategy of running a main force for the raid battle and a separate strike team for the competition.
“This strike team must first and foremost have excellent judgment. They need to be able to hit and run, protect themselves amid constantly changing variables, and still secure benefits for the team.”
“And they must be agile and explosive. Given the nature of a strike team, they’ll be small in number and won’t be able to endure long fights. They need to deliver a single, devastating blow—boom!—and perfectly execute the art of the ambush.”
Mobility was a given.
They needed good judgment.
And they needed explosive power.
It was quite a demanding set of conditions, but as if he had predicted this exact need, the Mir Guild already had specialists who fit the criteria perfectly.
“Overflowing activity and the master of side-lane operation—the lonely top laner, Hwarang Kim Yu-shin!”
“She now possesses both speed and a single devastating burst of power. The superstar, Yu Ri-ra!”
Professor Lee pointed at the two of them.
“Congratulations. You have just become the Mir Guild’s strike team. All future training with this professor will be related to the strike team.”
That concluded the explanation.
Then let’s move straight into training.
Just as he was about to stand up—
Kim Yu-shin raised his hand.
“Representative-nim, I have a question.”
“It’s Professor Lee. There is no handsome, elegant, kind, or smart Representative here.”
“Pfft. Professor-nim, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“From what I understand, the strike team you just described seems to require the opponent to be somewhat hindered, right?”
To make full use of an ambush, the opponent needed to be in a stalemate.
In a situation where one side held an overwhelming advantage, an ambush would only heighten their vigilance and yield little gain.
But there wasn’t a single major guild that struggled with a Level 7 gate.
Even the last-place guild could easily clear a Level 7 gate.
“In that case, wouldn’t it be better to focus all our power on the main force to increase our speed rather than operating a separate strike team?”
“Ah, my mind must be going. I forgot something important.”
Professor Lee slightly lifted his broken glasses frame and said,
“Originally, gates… increase in difficulty based on the number of participants.”
“!!”