The first thing you notice about an S-rank dungeon is the air—it's heavier, colder, and feels charged with something you can't quite name. It's like stepping into the jaws of a beast. You feel the weight of the dungeon's hunger pressing down on your chest. That's exactly how I felt when we crossed into "The Titan's Labyrinth." It wasn't just fear—it was survival whispering in my ear, warning me this place wanted us dead.
The team moved silently, their footsteps echoing in the vast halls. There were twelve of us in total. I stayed at the back, the "luggage carrier," barely worth a glance. The real stars were the elite hunters up front—men and women who could bring down mountains with a single swing of their weapons. Their very presence screamed that I didn't belong.
The walls glowed faintly, with veins of green crystals pulsing a sickly light. Shadows shifted and danced, adding to the eerie atmosphere. I clutched the straps of the massive pack on my back. It was full of "supplies," but it felt more like I was hauling a portable tombstone.
We hadn't gotten far when we encountered the dungeon's first guardians: shadow wolves. Their glowing ember-like eyes and liquid darkness forms made them unnerving. They emerged silently from the shadows, as if the darkness itself had come alive.
"Stay back, Jin-woo!" shouted Lee Sun-ho, the team leader. His voice carried authority—and a dose of contempt. I didn't argue. I pressed my back against the cold wall, my heart pounding as the wolves lunged.
The battle was chaos: arrows whizzing, swords clashing, and spells booming. I wasn't part of it—I never was. My only job was to guard the supplies. But then, one wolf broke through the line. Its glowing eyes locked onto me, and it lunged.
It moved faster than I could react, a blur of claws and fangs. My body froze, but instinct kicked in. Without thinking, I dove over the supply pack, using my body as a shield. Pain tore through my side as its claws raked me. The world tilted as I gasped for air.
A bright flash seared the wolf into smoke. I looked up to see Sun-ho lowering his sword, his face cold and sharp.
"Pathetic," he muttered, loud enough for the others to hear.
I didn't argue. He wasn't wrong.
The fight ended as quickly as it began. The wolves dissolved into silence, and the team regrouped, barely winded. Meanwhile, I lay on the cold stone floor, clutching my side. Sun-ho walked over, towering above me like the dungeon itself.
"Get up," he ordered, his tone icy. "You're carrying extra now. Supplies don't get damaged on my watch."
I wanted to scream, to tell him I'd just saved the gear, but the words stuck in my throat. I nodded and dragged myself to my feet. The pack felt heavier than before—and not just because of the extra weight.
We continued deeper into the labyrinth. The air grew colder, the walls narrower. Every step felt like it brought us closer to something ancient, something watching. At the end of a long corridor, we reached it: a massive door covered in glowing runes and warnings written in a language none of us could understand. The carvings seemed alive, twisting and pulsing with energy that made my skin crawl.
Sun-ho stepped forward, hovering his hand over the door. "This is it," he said, a small grin forming. "The heart of the labyrinth."
My legs shook under the weight of the pack as I stared at the door. The runes pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, and for a moment, I thought I heard a voice—a faint whisper just out of reach.
Whatever was behind that door, it wasn't treasure or glory. It was death. Every part of me screamed to run. But I stayed.