CHAPTER 51: [NOT AN A-CLASS?]

"AH—!"

Eli’s scream ripped from his throat before he could stop it, the sound instantly devoured by the roar of rushing wind and crumbling stone.

"Hold on tightly!" Caelen’s voice cut through the chaos—deep, steady, unshaken.

Eli’s arms locked around him instinctively, knuckles whitening. The fall blurred everything—the world reduced to whipping darkness and flashes of tumbling debris—but even through the chaos, he caught the unmistakable gleam in Caelen’s eyes. Gold. Bright, molten gold.

’Is he...?’ Eli’s breath hitched. ’He’s... preparing for impact.’

Shards of marble, broken pews, and chunks of the shattered floor plunged alongside them, smashing against the walls in deafening bursts.

Caelen shifted mid-air, his body a barrier between Eli and the deadly rain. Each piece of rubble that should have caved Eli’s skull slammed harmlessly against Caelen’s back with dull, punishing thuds.

Eli squeezed his eyes shut. ’God, I hate this—I hate falling—I hate this dungeon—I don’t want to die—!’

The ground surged up at them—

—impact.

Except... it wasn’t.

They hit hard, the jolt rattling through Eli’s bones, but there was no sharp agony, no blinding pain. They rolled across uneven stone, the world spinning, until they came to a stop in a cloud of choking dust.

And Eli realized... he felt fine. Shaken, breathless—but fine.

’As I thought... he absorbed it.’

Caelen’s arm loosened around him as the golden light drained from his eyes. The S-Class rose smoothly, his sword still in one hand, the other brushing dirt from his coat as if they hadn’t just plummeted from several stories up.

Eli pushed himself up, coughing, and glanced around.

They were in a vast underground chamber—its air thick, heavy, and stale. The architecture bore the same skeletal resemblance to the church above, but this was older, far older.

The stone was darkened with age, streaked with moss and faint mineral stains. Cracked columns leaned precariously, some toppled completely, and faded murals sprawled across the walls—depictions so worn they were almost unrecognizable.

The stillness was suffocating. The dark felt... alive.

Caelen flicked open his phone, the pale flashlight beam cutting through the gloom. Eli mirrored him, their twin lights revealing a long, narrow corridor stretching ahead, the far end swallowed in shadow.

Caelen’s eyes narrowed. "What is this place?"

Eli shook his head, scanning the shadows. "I... don’t know."

"There’s something different about the aura here," Caelen muttered, almost as if speaking to himself. Then his gaze pinned Eli. "Do you still feel danger?"

Eli swallowed. "...No. I feel nothing."

"There’s a path leading to God knows where." His tone was clipped. "We’ll look around first. No rushing in."

He was already slipping into command, his posture radiating control.

After a drop like that, of course he’d take charge—especially when he’d deliberately left his team behind and brought only a B-Class.

"Agreed," Eli replied quickly, though his grip on his phone tightened. He’d have to follow Caelen’s lead.

This was his first dungeon raid, and Caelen was far more experienced in these kinds of unpredictable scenarios.

Still...

A cold twist coiled in his gut.

’Last time a gate started shaking, it exploded—and I died. We’re still breathing, but... something’s wrong.’

His Danger Detection remained silent, but that silence itself felt unnatural.

Something in this dungeon wasn’t right.

Eli’s beam swept across the nearest wall—

—and his breath caught in his throat.

The carvings continued here, more of the same twisted, inhuman figures he’d seen in the church above. But these weren’t in solemn reverence anymore. The scene had changed—mutated.

There were angel worshippers, though their faces were contorted into grotesque expressions, mouths open in eternal screams.

Their bodies were warped, some half-collapsed, others sprawled like corpses at the feet of a lone, priest-like silhouette.

But the most disturbing detail wasn’t the violence in the stone—it was the damage to it.

Deep, ragged gouges ripped through the wall, as though something with claws had tried to tear the imagery apart entirely.

And then... there was the blood.

Not faded rust-brown stains from years ago, but fresh. Dark, wet streaks glistened faintly under his flashlight, sliding in thin rivulets down the carvings, pooling between cracked tiles on the floor.

The smell was immediate—a thick, metallic tang that clung to the back of his throat and made him swallow hard against the rising bile.

’That’s... not reassuring.’

A cold shiver crawled up his spine, his every instinct screaming that they didn’t belong here.

’What the hell happened here?’

His mind scrambled for options—ways to get out. And then it hit him. He had the system.

Keeping his voice low and his face turned slightly away from Caelen, Eli whispered, "System... what happened to this dungeon? Why was there an earthquake? Can you... give us a way out?"

The reply came instantly, that same emotionless, calculated tone.

Ding.

[SYSTEM RESPONSE]

Due to player’s classification differing from the dungeon’s classification, certain features are inaccessible.

Rest assured—upon scanning, the dungeon is functioning within normal parameters for its classification.

Eli’s brows pulled together. "Classification?" he muttered under his breath. "What does that even mean?"

Ding.

[SYSTEM ANALYSIS]

Player Classification: B-Class Hunter

Dungeon Classification: S-Class

He froze. ’...What?’

No.

That couldn’t be right. They had entered an A-Class gate. He was sure of it. "Check again," he hissed. "This is an A-Class dungeon."

Ding.

[SYSTEM RESPONSE]

Classification: [Confirmed]

Dungeon is an S-Class dungeon, not an A-Class.

How was that possible?

His pulse slammed in his ears. A-Class dungeons were dangerous enough, but S-Class?

That was an entirely different nightmare. His brain raced, trying to piece together how—how the classification could have changed—

Caelen’s voice cut into his spiraling thoughts like a blade.

"Find anything? An exit?"

’Fuck.’

Eli snapped his head up, forcing his features into neutrality. His heartbeat still hammered against his ribs, but his voice came out steady.

"No. Nothing."

The words felt like lying through glass, but he couldn’t tell him—not now. Not when that would lead to questions he couldn’t answer.

Questions that would spike Caelen’s wariness straight back into the danger zone.

Caelen’s gaze lingered, sharp and unreadable, before he finally turned toward the shadowed corridor ahead. "Then we head forward. We’re not getting out this way." His tone was clipped, decisive. "We find the boss, clear the gate, and leave."

Eli’s stomach dropped like a stone.

"O-Okay..."