The Wall of Void

With the turn of the month came the inevitable announcement of new ruins.

In a rare turn of events, another Ancient-grade ruin had surfaced right on the heels of the previous month's discovery. What was more, this one appeared to be remarkably peculiar. In order to scout the rewards ahead of time, Jaewoo dispatched Novum into the ruin, and the spirit returned in short order with intel.

"Master! I'm back!"

"Welcome. So, what's this Ancient-grade ruin like?"

"It looks like the reward is a Ruin Extra Clear Ticket!"

Well, talk about impeccable timing. Just when he had been scouring the earth for ways to secure more exploration passes, a new ruin offering an Extra Clear Ticket had appeared out of nowhere. I'd better snatch it up before another country claims it.

"Though, the number of tickets awarded isn't fixed," Novum added, cocking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its head to one side before continuing. "Um, how should I put it? It seems the reward is determined by your performance."

"Performance?"

Slipping briefly into the entrance of the ruin to inspect the notification window, Jaewoo immediately grasped what the spirit meant.

Within this Ancient-grade ruin, there was no set monster count; an infinite horde would pour forth endlessly. Furthermore, the monsters would grow progressively stronger as time wore on. The longer one managed to endure, the greater the quantity of Extra Clear Tickets awarded.

"So it doesn't matter who clears it first."

"It looks like it will only remain open for a single month, until the next batch of ruins is announced," Novum observed.

Then there was no time to dawdle. The sooner he entered, the higher his chances of maximizing the haul.

"We'd better head in right away. Let's get ready. Everyone good to go?"

Meanwhile, Myeolgeop seemed exceptionally pleased by the advent of such a ruin.

"This is most fortuitous, Creator."

"What is? The fact that the reward is an Extra Clear Ticket?"

"That as well, but it also presents an ideal environment to conduct Creator's training."

"..."

A foreboding chill crept down Jaewoo's spine. We're entering to conquer a ruin, not to attend a military boot camp.

Yet Myeolgeop's mechanical mind was already entirely consumed with thoughts of drilling its master. Naturally, all the summons that emerged from the Heavenly Box—Myeolgeop included—held the safety of their master, Jeon Jaewoo, as their paramount priority. For that reason, they rarely strayed from his side, and they would never stand idly by if anything even remotely hazardous threatened him. Whenever they raided a ruin, the summons handled every ounce of combat.

However, even with them constantly attached at his hip, unforeseen variables could arise at any moment in this world. Fostering the strength for Jaewoo to protect himself in the event of an unexpected contingency was ultimately for his own long-term survival.

"Therefore, please comply obediently with my instructions."

"..."

Jaewoo had the distinct feeling that if he refused, the golem would literally chuck him straight into the middle of a monster horde.

"You will comply, will you not?"

"..."

"Answer."

"...Yeah."

Why has your tone gotten so pushy lately? Is it because you've been hanging around Earth too long?

In any case, since he would be out of commission for an extended period, he needed to give his parents and Commissioner Yoo a heads-up. Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae would undoubtedly propose forming a joint strike team given the ruin's unusual structure, but Jaewoo had zero intention of splitting the resulting clear tickets with the Hunter Bureau.

After firing off a brief text stating that he would be unreachable for about a month but that everything was fine so they shouldn't worry, Jaewoo stepped into the Ancient-grade ruin without delay. Such a golden opportunity rarely came knocking; he intended to reap as many Extra Clear Tickets as humanly possible.

There was truly no ceiling on the monster count.

The notification window straight-up lists the target as infinity.

The interior of the ruin known as the Wall of Void stretched out as a bleak, windswept wasteland. Elder Lich surveyed the barren expanse, his skeletal jaw rattling slightly as he spoke.

"Hmm, I sense no presence whatsoever. Could they be summoned forth rather than slumbering in wait?"

No sooner had the words left the undead's mouth than the ground answered.

Rumble!

Directly ahead, mounds of dirt burst open as scores of bleached bones clawed their way out of the earth.

"Ah, familiar faces indeed," Elder Lich remarked with a satisfied grin.

Familiar only to you, old man. Undead monstrosities were universally ranked among the most reviled adversaries by living hunters.

Before long, an enormous skeleton horde blanketed the plains, shuffling toward them in a sea of clattering bone. While an ordinary skeleton was among the weakest tier of monsters alongside goblins and slimes, facing down a horde of this scale exerted an undeniable psychological weight.

"Creator. Draw your blade and take your place beside me."

Myeolgeop's directive differed markedly from its usual behavior, which had always been to order Jaewoo safely behind its back the instant fighting commenced.

"The beasts emerging now represent the weakest tier native to this ruin, rendering them optimal for training."

The golem had resolved to mold its master through genuine combat within this controlled proving ground. The ruin's difficulty would automatically ramp up over time anyway, eventually leaving no margin for a novice to step in. Right now was the only window.

—To think you would deign to wield this exalted body against mere bottom-feeding undead! Truly lamentable! Utterly disgraceful!

"..."

Meanwhile, the Ego Sword flared with indignation, screaming telepathically that such a scuffle was beneath its station. The moment Jaewoo began typing the word "Dung" into the blade's system naming prompt, however, the weapon clamped its imaginary mouth shut in record time.

"Whew."

Jaewoo took a slow, measured breath. Even setting aside the sheer intimidation of their numbers, his nerves were strung tight. And reasonably so—this marked the very first time he was stepping up to fight monsters directly with his own two hands as an awakened hunter.

Vwooom.

Myeolgeop projected a blade of pure condensed energy from its arm like a beam saber and dropped into a combat stance. Elder Lich and Novum likewise prepared for battle.

"Then while thou dost instruct the Maker, I shall occupy the rest of the rabble," Elder Lich stated casually, weaving necromantic magic to manifest a cohort of towering Skeleton Knights outfitted with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠swords, polearms, and battleaxes.

"Come straight to me the second you get hurt, Master! I'll patch you right up!" Novum chirped, melding seamlessly with the natural ambient mana to unfurl a colossal restorative aura ready to channel healing energy into its allies at a moment's notice.

Backed not only by Myeolgeop but by Elder Lich and Novum as well, a profound wave of security washed over Jaewoo.

—To have the inaugural battle of my sword-life unfold in an undignified sty devoid of a shred of nobility. Tsk, tsk.

...Excluding, of course, this insufferable, ill-mannered sentient toothpick.

"Now then, we shall begin from the absolute fundamentals of swordsmanship. Relax your tension and follow my movements slowly."

The global hunter community was left utterly dumbfounded once the operational mechanics of the new Ancient-grade ruin were fully deciphered. Countless ruins had manifested over the years, yet never had one operated on such parameters. Granted, given the staggering diversity of extradimensional phenomena, the addition of a new format was not entirely unfathomable.

Regardless, nations worldwide mobilized strike teams with breakneck speed to explore the Ancient-grade site. Virtually every sovereign state across the globe threw its hat into the ring. It was a stark contrast to previous instances, where only global superpowers possessing immense surplus firepower dared to set foot inside an Ancient ruin.

Under ordinary circumstances, nations like South Korea or Japan lacked the raw elite strength to even covet an Ancient-grade breach, opting instead to direct their limited assets toward conquering Legendary-grade or lower sites. This time, however, being the first to conquer the site meant nothing; the spoils were dictated purely by endurance and kill counts. That meant anyone brave enough to step through the gate held a viable chance of walking away with at least a fraction of an Ancient-grade reward. Private domestic Hunter Companies and independent rank-and-file hunters alike rushed into the portal, chasing dreams of striking astronomical fortunes overnight.

Of course, true to its Ancient-grade classification, the clearance difficulty was brutally unforgiving.

From the moment they crossed the threshold, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a boundless skeletal horde barred their advance. While individual skeletons posed little threat to seasoned hunters, their sheer numbers were overwhelming. In the early stages, their low tier kept them relatively manageable despite the volume; before long, however, Orcs, King Slimes, Wyverns, and other notoriously lethal beasts began pouring forth—not metaphorically, but literally without a single second's reprieve.

On top of that, this was not an operation resolved in a day or two. To claim the upper echelon of rewards, a team had to battle continuously for thirty straight days. Unless an awakened human was a combat golem forged exclusively for war, physical rest was an unavoidable biological imperative. The raid forces steadily deteriorated under the sheer attrition of day-and-night slaughter against endless waves. Predictably, half-baked hunters crumbled under the pressure within hours.

Even the primary strike force organized by the Korean Hunter Bureau threw in the towel and evacuated after holding out for barely ten days.

"Haah... haah..."

Kim Yumin, who had served as the vanguard of the raid force, dropped her greatsword the very second her boots cleared the ruin gate. Having absorbed the brunt of the monsters' savage onslaught on the front lines, she was battered from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head to toe. The Pitch-Black Armor of the Knight King, procured for her by Jaewoo, was marred by deep, jagged gouges.

"The hunters are out!"

"Healers, move! Tend to the wounded immediately!"

Bureau personnel hoisted the collapsed combatants onto stretchers and rushed them toward emergency medical vehicles. Commissioner Yoo Jeongtae bolted over, his face taut with anxiety as he inspected the condition of his flagship S-rank asset.

"Yumin! You did exceptionally well. How are your injuries?"

Drawing ragged breaths while bathed in the emerald glow of a healer's spell, Kim Yumin choked out a response. "I'm fine... but Sungjae-ajusshi is in much worse shape than I am..."

Han Seongjae, South Korea's premier S-rank magic-type hunter, had squeezed out every last drop of his mana pool to the brink of death. Having collapsed from total magical circuit exhaustion, he was being frantically wheeled away toward the critical care unit.

"Regardless, you fought heroically, and you have my utmost gratitude. For now, just focus on resting."

Yet Kim Yumin's voice remained utterly despondent. "Still... we couldn't even survive half the total duration."

"What are you talking about? What matters most is that not a single member of our strike force lost their life. You did more than enough. I should be the one apologizing for not being able to fight by your side."

Yoo Jeongtae offered his junior comforting words as a veteran S-rank hunter, but inwardly, the fact that they had failed to endure even half of the one-month period was a bitter pill to swallow. It felt like an unvarnished confirmation that South Korea's sovereign hunter capability remained firmly stuck at the level of a middle-tier nation. Superpowers like the United States, China, and India went without saying, but even neighboring Japan, who had deployed their strike force around the same time, was still holding out inside. He was painfully reminded that without Jeon Jaewoo, South Korea simply could not measure up to the global vanguard.

Before long, the grim outcome hit the public airwaves.

Naturally, that did not mean every single South Korean hunter had abandoned the Ancient-grade ruin. While the strike teams dispatched by the major private Hunter Companies had dropped out long ago, South Korea's sole beacon of hope, Jeon Jaewoo, was still somewhere inside.

Yet as the days bled into weeks and even the top-tier global superpowers began exiting the ruin one by one, public anxiety across South Korea mounted into palpable dread.

For if no word arrived by the time the conquest window closed... it would mean Jeon Jaewoo had met his end within the bowels of the Ancient-grade ruin.