"He did not descend from heaven.
He did not rise from hell.
He simply… walked out of the gate."
---
[Three Months Before the Academy – Sector 17, Gate Outbreak Zone]
The sky tore open with a shriek.
A black-red spiral gate, marked S-rank by every known measure, thundered into existence just outside the crumbling industrial ruins of Sector 17.
Hunters avoided it. It was unregistered. Unstable. It howled like a beast.
Inside that swirling void—
> Monsters were dying.
They didn't roar, they didn't fight.
They were simply unmade.
Their screams were silenced before they reached their throats. Their forms dissolved into dust—consumed by something they couldn't see.
At the deepest point of the gate, surrounded by dead titans and crawling void beasts, stood a boy.
He was naked.
Skin pale as snow.
Eyes glowing deep crimson.
Hair black as a dead sun.
Blood dripped from his arms, but he wasn't bleeding.
> He had no weapon.
He didn't need one.
A monster—twice his size, plated in obsidian armor—charged him with a roar.
The boy raised his hand.
> The monster stopped midair—frozen.
A soft hum echoed through the air like a chime in a cathedral.
> The monster folded inward—vanishing into a collapsing point of nothing.
It did not explode.
It simply… ceased to exist.
---
Ten Minutes Later – Outside the Gate
The gate flickered, shuddered, and then—
> It collapsed.
A shockwave rippled across the plains, flattening the grass and blowing dirt skyward.
And then…
He appeared.
> The boy walked out of the smoke and light—barefoot, naked, his hair swaying in the wind.
His body was lean but scarred from wars that didn't exist anymore.
Blood soaked his arms and chest.
His expression? Blank. Unbothered.
A group of standby hunters, dressed in dark crimson armor, froze.
> "W-Who… who is that?!"
He walked past them without a word.
> A small black mass of slime—barely the size of a melon—oozed from behind him and followed loyally, shimmering with eerie joy.
The boy didn't stop.
---
Later That Night – Inside the Bar Called "The Break"
Rourke Delven leaned on the counter, his scarred face lit only by a bottle of aged firewhiskey.
The former S-rank hunter, known once as "Crimson Hammer", had long since left the battlefield.
Now, he ran a bar tucked behind the eastern wall of Gladia—wealthy, quiet, and isolated from the younger generation of hunters who now chased glory and headlines.
But he had seen the boy on the broadcast.
> A naked teen walking calmly out of an S-rank gate.
Covered in blood.
Surrounded by silence.
And those eyes.
> "He looks just like my son…"
---
The Adoption
When Rourke visited the agency the next day, the boy was sitting in a chair—clothed now, blanketed, silent. A black slime nestled in his lap.
He hadn't spoken much. Just gave one name:
> "Kaen."
No last name. No ID. No records.
Mana scan: blank.
> "He's not dangerous," Rourke said firmly. "I'll take him."
The officers hesitated. "Sir, he—he absorbed an S-rank gate—"
"I said I'll take him."
And that was that.
---
Life in the Bar – Days of Silence
Rourke gave Kaen a room on the second floor.
It had once belonged to his son.
Kaen never asked. Never commented.
He simply cleaned the floors. Washed the dishes. Cooked when no one else did.
Rourke watched him from the corner of the bar.
Kaen didn't laugh. Didn't smile.
But he would sit with a warm cloth to clean up after drunk hunters who passed out on the floor. He always repaired broken things—pipes, lights, chairs—without being asked.
> "He's not a normal kid," one regular whispered.
"You saw what he did at the gate."
But Rourke never questioned it.
> "He's mine now."
---
The Slime – Noir
Noir, the small black slime, became the unofficial mascot of the bar.
It cleaned cups with its body. Took the shape of a mug. Once even turned into a busty lady figure, which caused a full-on spit-take from a drunken mercenary.
Rourke laughed so hard he coughed.
> "You made that thing, didn't you?"
Kaen said nothing.
Noir burped and bounced back into his hoodie.
---
Learning the World
Kaen studied everything.
He didn't ask—he listened. He watched.
He memorized the ranking system of hunters:
C to A Rank – Normal trained hunters
S Rank – Rare, elite, capable of solo gate raids
SS Rank – Only 3 known in the world
SSS Rank – Only one: Lirien Aesryn (he hadn't met her yet)
He learned about:
Gates
Corrupted mana
The 12 ancient races
Forbidden magic
And the unspoken fear of Primordial Entities
He said nothing.
But inside his mind—ancient and infinite—he already knew more.
---
The Decision
One evening, Kaen stood on the rooftop of the bar.
Rourke joined him, bottle in hand.
They stood in silence.
"I've been thinking," Kaen said at last. "About joining the academy."
Rourke raised an eyebrow.
"…You want to be a hunter?"
Kaen looked up at the gate-filled sky.
> "No. I want to see who else survived."
Rourke didn't understand. But he nodded anyway.
"I'll sponsor you. You'll need a name for the system."
Kaen turned to him, quiet. "Then give me yours."
Rourke blinked. "You want to be my son?"
Kaen nodded.
> "You're the only one who treats me like a person."
Rourke exhaled, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Alright then. From now on… you're Kaen Delven."
---
And So, The Shadow Entered the Light
> The next morning, Kaen wore a new uniform.
Noir peeked from his collar, shimmering with joy.
He waved once at Rourke.
And then walked into Velucia Hunter Academy.
A world of monsters. Memories. Betrayals.
And the ones who once tried to kill a god.
> The darkness had taken his first step into the world again.