Everyone had done as I commanded. All of my teammates had drawn out their weapons—even those who were weaker than the rest of us, like Gordon, the C-rank, and Allison, the D-rank.
No one was prepared for any of this, so they waited patiently for my lead. Everyone was so scared they didn't even know what to do or how to handle themselves in a situation like this. After all, this was all new to them—but not to me.
They were starting to get so scared that they slowly began to scatter among us.
"Eh, Cap… what do we do in a situation like this?" the second B-rank asked, his tone trembling with fear.
I was also caught off-guard. I'd be lying to myself and everyone else if I said that, from that moment, I knew exactly what to do. As much as that would've been perfect right now, it wasn't like that.
Honestly, I myself didn't know what to do or even what to say to them. I'd been in over a hundred dungeon raids, both solo and with groups, but this still felt new to me.
One thing about us powerful hunters—especially S-ranks and A-ranks—is that we have this strange ability to sense the aura of a beast or monster we come face-to-face with.
"Captain? What should we do?" the second B-rank shouted, snapping me back to reality.
"Wait a minute. I'm still thinking!" I snapped angrily.
My mind was at a standstill. This had never happened to me before, not even during my first dungeon raid. This was all new, which caught me off-guard. I'm usually a quick thinker—the type who attacks first and asks questions later.
But this time, everything felt wrong.
I shook my head, refocusing. "B-ranks, what did you say about this dungeon's creatures?" I asked, needing confirmation.
"What do you mean, sir?" the first B-rank replied.
"I mean, what creatures did you say we should expect?" I pressed.
"From what Sam and I sensed in the atmosphere, low-ranking Pangas," the second B-rank answered.
"Are you sure about that?" I said.
"Yes. Why do you ask, sir?" Sam, the first B-rank, sounded confused.
I dismissed his question. I didn't have the heart to tell them that while they were right about facing Pangas, they'd severely underestimated the ranks. These Pangas eyeing us from the shadows were B-ranks at best—a major problem I hadn't anticipated. There was a fifty percent chance they'd end up dead or critically injured.
As the team waited for orders, something felt off. By now, seeing us scattered and unprepared, the Pangas should've attacked. Yet they lingered in the shadows, lurking, as if waiting for us to strike first.
'Something's definitely wrong', I thought.
They growled, claws scraping against stone. Their guttural groans made it clear: they were hungry.
Though the B-ranks could sense their presence, only I could feel their primal intent. I stared into the darkness where the Pangas hid.
"Why don't you come to Papa?" I taunted.
*Yuck. Did I really just say that?*
I prayed no one heard. To them, I was the cool captain—I had to maintain that image.
One Panga seemed to take the bait. It crawled out of the shadows—a baby, small and oddly adorable. Its mummy-like bandages clung to its undead form.
It crept closer, growling like a three-day-old puppy defending its mother. Harmless. I planned to spare it.
"Hey there, buddy. Come here. I won't bite if you don't," I coaxed, kneeling slowly.
Pangas attack when they sense weapons, so I'd kept mine sheathed. The baby inched toward my outstretched hand, where I'd conjured a wrapped candy bar.
I was seconds from making peace when a blade flashed. Blood splattered my face. The baby Panga's head rolled.
I froze.
One of my C-ranks stood there, sword dripping green gore.
"What the fuck did you just do?!" I roared.
"I—I thought—" she stammered.
A horde of Pangas erupted from the shadows, surging toward us like a flood.
"Shit!"
I drew my weapon—twin Viking axes, *Hammer Head*. Their blades gleamed; the backs hummed with bullet-train thrusters. Cringe? Maybe. Effective? Absolutely.
As a fire elemental, pyrokinesis was my gift. Flames roared to life around me.
Slash! Slash!
Half the Pangas fell in one strike. My team fought valiantly—even Gordon and Allison held their ground.
Huff… Huff…
I gasped for air. "How many are there?!"
The chamber floor piled with corpses—fifty, a hundred? Finally, silence.
"Is everyone okay?" I called.
No answer.