The northern gates of Ormolio no longer looked normal.
Yesterday, carriages had moved through them slowly while rchants argued over entry taxes and explorers returned with monster materials. Now the entire gate area had been turned into an ergency checkpoint. Guards shouted orders, civilians were pushed toward safer districts, and Guild workers moved between groups with pale faces and stacks of assignnt papers.
Atlas walked beneath his black hood with the other D-Rank explorers.
None of them looked excited about the assignnt. They carried weapons, but their hands were tense. This was not an ordinary scouting mission or a low-ranked ruin request. They had been sent near the edge of a Cataclysm-Class Outbreak, and everyone understood the difference between duty and being useful bait.
The red ergency signal still burned in the northern sky.
It marked the direction of the mutated ruin and the main outbreak path. The Guild only needed to hold for five hours until S-Rank reinforcent arrived, but five hours was not short when monsters from a Cataclysm-Class Ruin were already moving toward the city.
A Guild officer stood near the gate with a stack of parchnt in one hand.
"Outer northern road observation group, listen up!"
The D-Rank explorers turned toward him.
"You are not frontline combatants. Do not act like one. Your job is to scout the outer northern road, check civilian movent, report monster sightings, and assist evacuation if possible."
His gaze moved across them one by one.
"If you encounter anything above your capacity, you retreat imdiately. Especially if you see B-Rank movent or higher, You will not fight, act brave and die for nothing."
No one argued.
That order suited Atlas.
Officially, the task was simple. In reality, the danger depended entirely on how far the outbreak had already spread. If the front line held, they would only guide civilians and report movent. If the front line broke, D-Ranks like them would beco casualties before they could even send a warning.
One spear-user beside Atlas swallowed while gripping his weapon.
"If Zenon Drakes failed in that place... then what are we supposed to do if sothing reaches us?"
A brown-haired woman in leather armor clicked her tongue, but her hand stayed tight around her dagger.
"We’re not supposed to fight what killed him. We look, we report, and we run. That’s the whole point."
The spear-user let out a weak laugh.
"Right - Running, I can do that."
Nobody laughed with him.
Atlas listened without joining. Their fear was reasonable. In normal conditions, D-Rank explorers would never be placed near a Cataclysm-Class route. But ergencies changed the value of people. Strong explorers were sent to the main defense. Weak ones were used for scouting, evacuation, and support because there were not enough proper forces to cover every road.
Soon, the gates opened.
Cold air entered from outside as Atlas stepped beyond Ormolio with the others. The walls closed behind them with a heavy sound, and the group of six D-Rank explorers moved onto the northern road.
None of them wore heavy armor. None carried high-grade relics openly. They were the kind of explorers who usually survived by choosing safe missions, avoiding stronger monsters, and never pretending to be more capable than they were.
One of them glanced toward Atlas after several minutes.
"You’re that hooded guy, right?"
Atlas did not answer imdiately.
The man continued awkwardly.
"You cleared those Veil-Class ruins alone, didn’t you? People were talking about it yesterday. I thought it was exaggerated, but you’re the sa one, right?"
Several eyes shifted toward him.
Atlas kept walking.
"I was lucky, that’s all."
The brown-haired woman frowned.
"Lucky twice?"
"The ruins were weak; I avoided what I could and that’s not that impressive.
The answer was simple enough to end the topic, but not enough to erase their curiosity. One explorer muttered sothing about strange rookies, while another focused back on the road.
Atlas preferred that.
Suspicion was dangerous, but attention was worse. If people thought he was lucky, cautious, or strange, that was acceptable. If they decided he was strong, then every action after that would be watched more carefully.
The northern road passed through uneven forest terrain. Roots crossed the dirt path, dry leaves scattered under the wind, and broken branches marked old travel routes used by rchants and hunters. As they walked, Atlas noticed Spirit Tails still working beneath the surface of his body.
His balance corrected before the ground dipped.
His steps landed more quietly.
His weight adjusted faster.
The Trait was not visible, but it kept refining his movent. It did not make him skilled automatically. It only gave his body better instincts for balance and force control. That was still valuable, because Atlas’s greatest weakness after gaining power was not lack of strength. It was the gap between what his body could do and what he could control.
After nearly half an hour, the road changed.
The trees beca quieter.
There were no bird calls, no insects, and very little wind.
Then they saw the overturned carriage.
It lay broken beside the road with one wheel shattered and several crates split open across the dirt. Goods were scattered everywhere, and part of the path had been torn apart by sothing moving through it carelessly.
The group stopped imdiately.
The spear-user whispered.
"...Damn."
Atlas crouched near the dirt.
Blood stained the road.
Not much.
But enough to confirm an attack.
There were no bodies nearby, which ant either the survivors had hidden or the monsters had dragged them away. Both possibilities were bad.
The brown-haired woman examined claw marks carved into a nearby tree. Three thick cuts ran through the bark, too deep for a normal D-Rank monster.
"That’s not D-Rank."
Her voice lowered.
"Maybe C."
Atlas studied the spacing and depth of the marks.
Possibly worse.
He did not say that.
One explorer pointed toward the broken carriage.
"Soone’s there."
The group raised their weapons.
A frightened voice ca from behind the cart fra.
"D-don’t attack! Please!"
A middle-aged rchant erged with both hands raised. Blood covered part of his forehead, and his coat had been torn badly. Behind him, two children huddled beside an older coachman while a woman held another child close.
The rchant nearly collapsed when he saw the Guild badges.
"Explorers... thank the heavens..."
The spear-user rushed forward.
"What happened here?"
"Monsters! They ca from the trees. We heard the ergency bells and tried to turn back, but they were already here. The horses broke loose, and my guards..."
His voice shook.
"They took my guards."
Atlas looked toward the forest.
The air carried a faint wet sll.
The brown-haired woman cursed quietly.
"We need to get them back to Ormolio."
The spear-user nodded quickly.
"Everyone stay close. We’ll move fast."
Atlas glanced at the civilians.
They were injured, frightened, and slow. If monsters attacked, the D-Ranks would have to protect people who could not run properly. That changed the situation. A scouting mission had beco an escort mission, and their group did not have the strength to handle a large attack directly.
Then the ground near the roadside shifted.
Sothing scraped beneath the roots.
Atlas narrowed his eyes.
"Move."
The others barely heard him.
The first monster burst out of the mud.
Its body was low, long, and covered in a wet black shell. Thin limbs clawed against the dirt, and its mouth stretched sideways across its head. More followed from the roadside.
Eight in total.
Bloodmire Crawlers.
C-Rank lesser monsters.
The D-Ranks froze.
A civilian scread.
One Crawler lunged imdiately.
"Barrier!"
A D-Rank explorer raised a small defensive relic, but the monster smashed into the barrier hard enough to crack it.
"Shit—! These are C-Rank!"
The Crawlers attacked from multiple directions, and the road turned chaotic. The spear-user forced one monster back with a desperate thrust, the brown-haired woman dragged civilians behind the carriage, and another explorer fired a weak Spirit bolt that scattered across a Crawler’s shell without doing much.
Atlas moved into the confusion.
He did not use full speed.
He did not make himself obvious.
One Crawler rushed toward the coachman, so Atlas stepped into its blind spot and struck the side of its neck with a short blow.
Crack.
The monster collapsed.
No one saw it clearly.
Good.
Another Crawler rushed toward the children.
Atlas could not let that one pass.
He pulled out Condor’s Locket beneath his cloak.
Fwoom.
A pale silver barrier expanded around him and the civilians just as three Crawlers slamd into it.
Boom.
The barrier held, but ripples spread across its surface.
The brown-haired woman stared at the do.
"You have a Rare-grade defensive relic?!"
Atlas did not look at her.
"Registered."
That was all he said.
The answer was short enough to stop further questions for the mont. The Crawlers struck the barrier again, and Atlas felt the locket strain under multiple C-Rank attacks. It could hold, but not forever. Defensive relics were useful because they created ti. They were not absolute protection.
Atlas moved when the nearest Crawler recoiled.
His first step was too fast, but Spirit Tails corrected the excess force before he lost balance. The Trait prevented the movent from becoming obvious, though the control still felt rough.
He struck beneath the Crawler’s shell joint.
Boom.
Its body folded inward and crashed against the road.
Another Crawler turned toward him.
Atlas stepped back too far, then forced himself to slow down.
’Control it.’
The brown-haired woman attacked from the side at the sa ti. Atlas kicked a broken crate into the Crawler’s face, forcing it to turn directly into her dagger.
Her blade pierced one of its eyes.
"Got it!"
She did not realize Atlas had created the opening.
That was better.
After that, the battle beca manageable.
The D-Ranks were not strong enough to overpower C-Rank monsters cleanly, but Atlas quietly tilted each exchange. He blocked lethal attacks with the locket, redirected Crawlers into bad angles, broke limbs when no one looked directly, and made his movents appear like luck or timing instead of overwhelming strength.
By the ti the final Bloodmire Crawler collapsed, the road was covered in broken shells, black blood, and torn dirt.
The D-Rank explorers breathed heavily.
The civilians cried behind the fading barrier.
Atlas deactivated the locket and let the silver do dissolve.
For a mont, no one spoke.
Then the spear-user looked at him with shaken eyes.
"You said you were lucky..."
Atlas glanced toward him.
"I still am."
The man opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Before anyone could speak further, sothing pulsed inside Atlas’s chest.
The Bloodbound Codex.
Atlas’s body stiffened faintly.
The Sanguis Stylus wanted to erge.
He could feel the pull beneath his skin. The road was filled with C-Rank monster corpses, and the Codex wanted their blood.
Atlas pressed his fingers against his chest beneath the cloak.
’Not here.’
The pull strengthened.
Atlas’s eyes darkened.
’Not. Here.’
After several seconds, the pressure faded.
Not fully.
It waited.
That was a problem.
The Codex could react even when hidden, and if it forced itself out near other explorers, everything would collapse. Atlas needed better control over it. Not only over his body or Spirit, but over the relic itself.
Then pressure descended from the north.
Every D-Rank froze.
The civilians went silent.
It was not close, but it was strong enough for everyone to feel it.
Atlas sensed it before the others. He had already moved behind the overturned carriage and lowered his presence beneath the shadow of the roadside slope.
Then they appeared in the distance.
Several B-Rank monsters had breached the front defense route.
They moved through the northern road beyond the trees, passing broken barricades and fleeing figures. Their pressure alone made the D-Ranks tremble.
One explorer whispered.
"...B-Ranks..."
But the B-Ranks were not the real issue.
Behind them, sothing larger walked forward.
An A-Rank monster.
It did not rush or look toward the D-Ranks. It simply passed through the forest road, releasing pressure with every step.
Atlas stayed hidden.
His instincts gave a clear answer.
If he stepped out, he would die.
The A-Rank monster passed without looking at them.
Not because it spared them.
Because they were not important enough to delay it.
The D-Ranks remained frozen until the pressure moved farther away.
Then one of them collapsed to his knees.
No one mocked him.
The front line had been breached.
The brown-haired woman looked upward first.
Her face lost color.
"...Look."
Atlas raised his gaze.
Above the northern sky, the red ergency signal still burned.
Beside it, a second flare rose.
Black.
The road beca silent.
Atlas stared at the black flare beneath his hood.
Five hours.
The Guild only needed to hold for five hours.
But the first line had already begun to fall.
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