They were not the highest, but they were above the rest. A tier of monsters unlike those found inside normal gates. They didn't just kill. They devoured.
And it all started in a forgotten area.
Shadar Hollow.
A remote settlement. Quiet. Peaceful. A place almost lost to time, with only a few families and old structures keeping it alive. Then the gate break happened. It tore through the center of the hollow. A monstrous red rift in the air, wide and pulsing, almost as if the world itself had been wounded.
The first creature that crawled out wasn't fast. It was tall, bony, with sickly gray skin and a jaw that split four ways. The moment it stepped into the open, it screamed—a high-pitched, unearthly wail that shattered windows and froze the hearts of all who heard it.
Then came the slaughter.
Old man Reiji was the first to fall, trying to protect his grandchildren. He pushed them into a shed and turned, shouting, "RUN!" before he was ripped in half. The children didn't make it far either.
A mother sobbed while holding her baby in her arms, whispering, "Just close your eyes. Mama's here. Mama's here..." until the shadows fell upon her.
Whole households burned. The air was filled with screams and the sound of tearing flesh. People tried to fight back with what they had—axes, torches, rifles—but nothing worked. These monsters weren't just hungry. They were evolving. With every kill, their limbs thickened, their skin hardened, their eyes began to glow faintly.
By nightfall, Shadar Hollow was gone. A dead zone. A black mark on the map. Those who later stumbled on the area said it felt wrong—as if something had taken root beneath the earth and was still watching.
Back in Kagaryuu, the Souka Guild was quiet that morning. Inside the mission control room, one of the managers leaned over his screen.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered.
Three low-ranked gates—gone. Closed. No records of clearance. No reports from assigned hunters. Not even abandoned ones remained.
He called in two more staff. Together, they sent out a search team to confirm it on ground. But the team returned confused.
"The gates are gone. Even the ones that have been unstable for months."
The report landed on the desk of the Guild Master—the bloodline user known simply as Raigen. He stared at the list in silence for a moment, then said:
"Don't send hunters out for now. Just watch the pattern. Mark every gate that vanishes. We'll find out what this means soon."
---
Meanwhile, Akira Kaito had changed. His training, his pain, his desperation—they had refined him.
Four gates in one day.
He cleared them all, blades moving with precision and purpose. His inventory was now a lifeline. And the money he earned? Just enough to handle the hospital bills.
He dropped the last payment for the week and walked out of the office. The sun was lower now, brushing the buildings in orange.
He looked better—cleaner, stronger. But inside, the fire still burned.
At home, Yuna was waiting.
"Oni-chan!" she grinned. "I think your hard work is starting to pay off."
Akira smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. "Not yet. I'm just getting started. There's more to do. I'll find the cure. One way or another."
That afternoon, they visited Ward 304 of the hospital.
Diego Kaito's eyes lit up when they entered. "Look at you two! Finally decided to come see your old man, huh?"
"We were here just two days ago!" Yuna laughed.
Akira nodded, pulling a chair. "Sorry. Had work."
They talked for a while. About school, about missions, about the weird things happening in the guild.
Then Diego raised his fist playfully. "Don't worry, when I'm down from this bed, I'll wipe out all the monsters myself! Ahgggg!!"
Akira burst out laughing. "Right, right. I better get stronger before you do then."
Yuna giggled. "Papa the Monster Slayer. Sounds like a movie."
They stayed a little longer. Time slipped quietly.
As they were about to leave, Akira looked at them—his sister, his father, the two people who meant the world to him.
"I'll protect and save both of you," he said quietly, with a gentle smile. "With everything I've got."
From across the room, the nurses watched, their hands paused, their faces softening.
A happy family.
And a boy carrying the world on his back.