After a full day of rest, Halstein summoned Stiles and SteelArm to his office. As they stepped inside, the first thing they noticed was Dante, seated in a chair. Though fully healed, he looked visibly weakened, his hand clutching his chest tightly.
"H-Hey, guys," Dante greeted them with a weak chuckle, though his voice was hoarse. He coughed before continuing, "That bastard... really did a number on me."
Stiles' eyes widened. "Holy shit, you're alive?"
Dante let out another dry chuckle. "Shouldn't be... but by some miracle, something happened the other day. A golden light—I'm not sure what it was. I felt energy coursing through my bones, something akin to a paladin's blessing or a priest's divine magic. But... it was different. Stronger. Overwhelming." His voice trailed off as he activated his mana, watching it flicker between his fingers.
"And my mana..." He frowned, staring at his hand. "It feels... different. More natural, more fluid than before." Shaking off the thought, he sighed and leaned back in his chair.
Halstein cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "I hate to cut the reunion short, but the reason I called you two here is urgent." His expression darkened. "Ever since the other day... Dante was healed but also there has been an alarming surge of gates appearing all over the world. Reports are flooding in non-stop. Right now, within a 400-mile radius, we've confirmed at least 200 newly opened gates."
He tossed a thick folder toward Stiles, who caught it and began flipping through the pages. Each one listed a different location, coordinates, and danger level.
"God damn..." Stiles muttered, skimming through the overwhelming number of entries. "What the hell is going on?"
Halstein shook his head. "We don't know yet."
Dante let out a tired sigh before fishing his keys from his pocket and tossing them to SteelArm. "Here. Take my truck. Just don't scratch it."
SteelArm caught the keys with a smirk. "No promises."
Halstein leaned forward, his gaze steady. "Are you two up for raiding some gates?"
Stiles crossed his arms. "Didn't we agree to lay low for a while?"
Halstein nodded. "We did. But enough time has passed. So, what's your answer?"
Stiles and SteelArm exchanged a brief glance before nodding in unison.
"Good," Halstein said, satisfied. "Get moving. If possible, try to clear at least ten gates before the day's over."
Without another word, he opened the office door and strode off, leaving no room for discussion.
Stiles and SteelArm wasted no time, heading straight to the parking lot. They climbed into Dante's truck, the engine roaring to life as they pulled out. Without hesitation, they set course for the farthest gate, planning to work their way back toward the guild.
After nearly five hours on the road, they finally arrived at the first gate.
"This one's only supposed to be D-rank. Let's clear it quick," Stiles said, stepping out of the truck. SteelArm followed, both of them striding into the gate without hesitation.
The air inside was damp and cool, the tunnel walls slick with moisture. Stiles exhaled slowly, scanning their surroundings. "Just a cave, huh? Feels almost too easy."
SteelArm shook his head. "Compared to what we've been dealing with lately, this is nothing."
"Tell me about it," Stiles muttered as they moved deeper into the cave.
Three minutes twenty-two seconds later, they stepped back into daylight.
"Well, that's one down," Stiles said, brushing dust off his jacket.
"Onto the next," SteelArm added, his hands still slick with green blood. Without missing a beat, they climbed back into the truck and took off toward their next target, just ten minutes away.
Flipping through the documents, Stiles scanned the details. "This next one's also D-rank."
They turned onto a dirt road, the path opening up to reveal a windmill in the distance. As soon as they reached the gate, they wasted no time stepping in.
Two minutes later, they were back in the truck, already heading toward the third gate.
"The next one is B-rank, about twenty-five minutes from here," Stiles said, inputting the coordinates into the truck's built-in GPS.
Twenty-five minutes later, they pulled off to the side of the road, where the gate stood ominously on the shoulder.
"Looks like we finally have to deal with this one," Stiles muttered as he stepped out of the truck.
SteelArm put the vehicle in park before following. Together, they strode into the gate without hesitation.
The moment they stepped through, warm, salty air hit their faces. White sand stretched before them, waves crashing in the distance.
Stiles inhaled deeply, then exhaled with a groan. "This brings back terrible memories."
"...Not another damn beach," SteelArm grumbled, rubbing his temple before trudging forward.
Seven minutes later, they emerged from the gate, wasting no time getting back into the truck and driving off.
Seven hours and dozens of cleared gates later, they arrived at yet another one.
"This makes... uh, what? Gate number forty-four?" Stiles guessed, tossing the folder onto the passenger seat before stepping out.
SteelArm yawned as he followed, stopping beside him. "So, what rank is this one?"
"Not a damn clue," Stiles said, already walking through the gate.
SteelArm let out a deep sigh before following him inside.
The moment they stepped through the gate, an oppressive wave of heat slammed into them. The air shimmered, thick with the scent of sulfur. Jagged black rock stretched in every direction, veins of molten lava glowing like rivers of fire through the cracks.
Stiles wiped the sweat already forming on his forehead. "Oh, fantastic. A volcano."
SteelArm exhaled sharply. "Great. Now I get to burn alive instead of drowning."
The ground rumbled beneath their feet, sending small pebbles tumbling down from the rock formations around them. Stiles instinctively tensed, scanning the terrain. "Alright, let's move. The faster we clear this, the sooner we get out of this oven."
They stepped forward cautiously, hopping over a narrow stream of lava that snaked across the rocky surface. The heat was unbearable, making every breath feel like they were inhaling fire.
A deep, guttural growl echoed through the cavernous space. From the far end of the volcanic landscape, the ground split open, and a creature emerged—its body composed of molten rock, flames licking at its jagged form. Glowing cracks ran along its obsidian-like skin, its burning eyes locking onto them.
SteelArm flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. "Of course there's a lava monster. Why wouldn't there be?"
With a single, fluid motion, Stiles vanished from sight—only to reappear behind the molten beast. A sharp schlink echoed through the cavern as his blade carved cleanly through the monster's core.
For a moment, the creature stood still, as if confused by what had just happened. Then, cracks of molten light spread across its body before it shattered into pieces, its fiery remains hissing as they cooled against the blackened rock.
SteelArm blinked. "Well, that was... anticlimactic."
Without wasting another second, they pressed on, navigating the treacherous terrain. The deeper they went, the hotter the air became, thick and suffocating. The ground beneath them trembled every so often.
After several minutes, they reached a dead end—or so it seemed. Before them lay a sheer drop, the jagged rock leading down into a vast chamber of molten chaos. Rivers of lava crisscrossed below, their glow casting eerie shadows along the cavern walls.
SteelArm peered over the edge. "Of course. We have to go down."
Stiles let out a slow breath. "Looks like it."
Glancing around, they spotted a few natural ledges and protrusions, a possible path leading downward. Stiles smirked before stepping forward and dropping off the edge, landing smoothly on the first narrow ledge below. "You coming or what?"
With a sigh, SteelArm followed, the two of them beginning their descent deeper into the heart of the volcano.
Landing on the final ledge, Stiles and SteelArm stepped onto a flat expanse of scorched rock, the heat pressing against them like an invisible force. The ground trembled as streams of lava ran over the floor in unpredictable patterns, forcing them to time their steps carefully.
"Well, this is fun," SteelArm muttered, leaping over a narrow lava stream that cut across their path.
Stiles followed, barely avoiding a sudden burst of molten rock that erupted from a nearby hole. As they moved forward, more fissures cracked open in the ground, spewing lava that slowly crept outward, threatening to consume the entire platform. SteelArm gritted his teeth and followed, dodging between geysers of molten fire as the floor behind them was swallowed by lava.
Just as they neared what looked like a safer zone, a piercing screech echoed through the cavern. A gust of scorching wind blew past them as something massive swooped overhead.
Descending from the darkness above, a monstrous creature took form. It resembled a bat, but its body was composed of blackened rock, glowing veins of molten lava coursing through its wings and chest. Each flap of its enormous wings sent waves of blistering heat through the chamber. Its eyes burned like twin embers, locked onto them with predatory intent.
SteelArm clenched his fists. "A flying lava freak? Let's kill this thing and move on."
SteelArm slammed his foot into the ground, activating [Earthen Grip]. Instantly, a massive molten hand erupted from the volcanic rock beneath them, its glowing fingers closing around the bat-like creature before it could escape.
The monster screeched, thrashing wildly, but the molten hand only tightened its grip. Cracks spread across the creature's body, glowing brighter and brighter—until finally, with a sickening crunch, it was crushed into nothing but smoldering dust. SteelArm exhaled sharply, lowering his hand as the molten grip receded back into the earth.