CHAPTER 479: INVADERS

The first intruders stepped through the dungeon entrance without a word. Black robes brushed across the stone floor, each step quiet and controlled.

Masks hid every face. No patterns, no colors, only matte black plates cut to erase identity. Fifty of them filed in, moving with practiced rhythm. No one lingered. No one looked around in curiosity. They moved like people who had rehearsed this kind of entry more times than they could count - these were seasoned dungeon combatants.

The air shifted as their two leaders entered.

The man came first. Even beneath the robe, the fabric pulled across his frame, shaped by shoulders built from hard training. His hood cast a sharp line across his mask, which covered everything but a steady line of breath through the mouth vents. He stopped just past the threshold, planted his boots, and began to survey the entrance room to the dungeon, also known as the safe zone.

"Intel suggested to expect an abyssal hellscape. What is this dark cavern, boss?" One of the men who stepped in first asked, concerned. This was not what he was expecting, and soon, the same emotion could be observed beneath the featureless masks on many members.

While they were pros when it came to dungeon clearing, that did not mean they had to like facing the unknown or what they couldn’t quite understand.

"Forward sweep. Three units. Standard spacing. Let’s get to the bottom of it," Destro ordered. His voice carried no strain or excitement, only a matter-of-fact tone that could slot into any operation. The others reacted immediately, splitting off in organized groups.

The woman stepped in beside him. She moved with a quiet confidence that didn’t need a dramatic posture. Her build was lean, her steps careful, and she kept her hands close to her sides as she assessed the dungeon ahead. Her mask had a smoother shape, just as featureless, with a narrow slit where her eyes would be.

"Record mana signatures. We need full mapping to understand what’s going on. No stray movements," she instructed.

Her orders were crisp, spoken without urgency. The entering squad adjusted positions, spacing out to cover angles and collect data. Several members pulled out silver medallions engraved with focusing glyphs, lifting them to scan the walls. Lines of blue text lit up across the discs, tracking mana density.

"Lord Destro," one operative called. "Formation in place."

The tall man nodded once. "Good. Maintain discipline. No mistakes here."

"Lady Signa. Visual log is live," another operative said, turning toward the woman. "We can begin."

She gave a short nod. "Advance to Sector One. Keep interval."

The group began moving forward.

No chatter. No side comments. Every motion served a purpose. Each unit kept to their role: three frontline tanks, five melee damage dealers, seven rangers, and one to three supporters, depending on the team builds and needs.

This wasn’t a raid full of amateurs.

This was a trained strike team entering hostile ground with full confidence.

The squad advanced past the safe zone, but their ideal formation broke almost immediately.

The cavern split into two passageways only a few steps in. Each tunnel narrowed to the width of a hallway, the stone walls pressed so close that only two people - especially when it came to the bulky tanks - could stand shoulder to shoulder. Their planned layout collapsed at the entrance itself.

Destro exhaled through his mask. The sound was clipped and impatient. "Adjust formation. New layout. Two shields up front. Two close-combat behind them, blades and spears only. Two ranged or mages in the rear."

The units shifted without hesitation, but the cramped spacing forced every movement to be stiff and tactical. Shields scraped rock. Spears angled awkwardly. Bows and staffs pressed into backs.

Signa stepped up beside him, now beginning to show signs of clear irritation. "We must keep the pace," she ordered. "The target only settled here recently, and the government dogs are not near. Now is the perfect time."

Destro answered with a short grunt. "Team One, move. No delays."

The leading pair pushed in first. Their boots hit the stone in a steady rhythm until a sharp yelp cut through the corridor.

The front tank staggered. A metal spike jutted through the lower part of his boot. Blood began soaking the metal around it.

Destro’s jaw tightened behind the mask.

Signa’s voice was one of surprise. "He set defenses already?"

To her, it made no sense. Neither she nor Destro had any concept of dungeon points or instant construction. They assumed the boy had manually prepared everything within the last twenty-four hours, which would mean he had to go out of his way to first purchase the traps from the Awakened Marketplace tab and spend considerable time laying them down.

It was not only a costly endeavor, but planting traps properly could be very time-consuming. In fact, it was an art form in itself, with many important locations having hired professional trappers with related classes to ensure the artifacts were utilized as efficiently as possible.

But what they did not know was that this spike trap was no ordinary artifact... At least not in the sense they understood the term.

Destro’s tone dropped colder than before. "Rangers. Thieves. Front. Detect the traps."

An archer and a dagger-wielding scout stepped ahead of the tanks, eyes moving rapidly across walls, floor, and ceiling.

"No one moves until the traps are found and deactivated," Destro ordered.

Signa was getting impatient. "I’m taking another group to inspect the alternate path. If this one is covered in traps, the other should offer faster progress. There’s no way he managed to raise defenses in both. It’s only been a day or so."

Destro gave a brief grunt of acknowledgement. The narrow layout made it impossible to use all fifty members at once, and he knew it. Splitting their forces wasn’t ideal, but wasting bodies stacked in a choke point was even worse.

He shot her a sidelong glance. "Maintain contact."

A silver ring on his finger flickered. A matching band on Signa’s hand answered with a thin shimmer as their artifact link activated. The connection clicked into place.

"Link stable," Signa announced with a clipped tone.

Destro nodded once. "Good."

Signa raised a hand, signaling half the members to follow her. They peeled off with quiet steps, entering the second tunnel in a staggered line.

She stopped at the mouth of the passageway, rested a hand on her medallion scanner, and spoke again through the link.

"I’ll update you every minute. You do the same."

Destro’s reply came through the link in a low, steady tone. "Proceed."

Then his attention snapped back to his own scouts.

The archer crouched near a seam in the rock, tracing a groove with the tip of her arrow. The thief lifted a probe toward the floor, testing each notch and crack for pressure points.

"Trap confirmed," the archer said. "Simple trigger. Metal spikes. Resetting type."

Destro’s hand hovered near the hilt beneath his robe.

"Good. Deactivate it and keep moving."

Signa’s group drifted deeper into the other tunnel, their outlines shrinking as the cavern bent away.

Two paths. Two teams. Fifty trained intruders slowly sinking into Kaiden’s dungeon.

The first test of the Abyssal Home had begun.