Ray appeared in a hallway.

Torches flickered along both walls, each one set at equal intervals. The ceiling was low, and the hallway was so tight that only two people could walk side by side.

Out of nowhere, words written in deep, blood-red color floated before Ray's eyes.

[Escape the Monster Palace.]

He advanced cautiously, his footsteps echoing faintly against the stone floor.

A few moments later, he came across a skeleton.

Its bones were clean white as it was scraped free of flesh long ago by the lord of the monster palace, showcasing the end Ray would face if he were to succumb to the danger of this place.

A cracked helmet covered half its skull, and its empty sockets glowed faintly with pale blue light. In its bony hand, it gripped a rusted cleaver, jagged along the edge but still sharp enough to kill.

The skeleton twitched, then lunged over, cleaver slicing through the air straight toward him.

Ray metallified his hand and slashed out.

Clang!

With a sound of sword clashing, the cleaver was sent spinning through the air. The next moment, Ray's fist smashed into the skeleton's ribcage. The brittle bones burst apart on impact, scattering across the hallway like shattered glass.

As soon as the fight ended, dark, swirling holes opened up across the walls. Skeletons of all types and shapes crawled out of them: tall ones with halberds, short ones carrying knives. Some were even missing their lower bodies but they still dragged themselves towards the only living being in their midst.

It was a scene straight out of hell.

They attacked Ray from every direction.

Ray maneuvered his body skillfully, always staying at the edge of their attacks as he charged down the hallway. Whoever blocked his path was blasted to smithereens with a barrage of thunderous fists.

With speed comparable to a peak physical-type Bronze-rank demonic creature specializing in agility, he crossed the winding hallway in seconds, reaching a massive hall at the end.

The ceiling opened up high above him, with more torches lighting the walls in a circular pattern. Broken statues and shattered armor littered the floor.

At the far end of the hall, a flight of stairs led up to a throne carved from dark stone.

On the throne sat a robed figure, one leg crossed over the other. A black staff rested lazily across their lap.

They raised their head, glaring at Ray. Within their hood, their eyes burned with undisguised rage. Their gaze as it landed on Ray was cold, contemptuous, and heavy with disdain.

"They want to use us, the great ones, to fuel the growth of the most disdainable race?"

Their voice was strange—neither male nor female, but a blend of both, as if two souls were speaking through one mouth. The odd voice echoed slightly in the vast hall.

The robe that cloaked their form was loose, concealing every trace of what they truly looked like. It was impossible to tell what manner of being hid beneath.

"Arthis! And the rest of those arrogant assholes! Do they truly think a mongrel who crawled out of the dirt of a dying world can put us, the great ones, down?!"

"Have they forgotten who we are?" Their tone deepened, the echo of their voice rolling like thunder across the chamber. "We are the Master of the Seventh Abyssal Gate! The Warden of Souls! The one who silenced every kingdom of the Western Continent with a single command!"

From the terms they used to define themselves, Ray came to the conclusion that they were two being sharing the same body.

"Even the lords once knelt before our might, begging for the right to exist under our shadow!"

Their laughter, hollow and bitter, filled the hall. "And yet now… they send you? A human? To trample upon our pride?"

Ray frowned. The language they used was one he knew well. Indeed, they were speaking flawlessly in the human tongue.

The wheels in his mind spun rapidly. He connected the dots immediately.

The Great Ones were most likely part of the coalition that had invaded Earth in the common era, bringing about the dark age. That time period had also ended. In the current time period, nothing motivated the invaders more than the desire to destroy the Leon Kingdom so that they could become the absolute masters of Earth!

Ray's eyes narrowed sharply.

"I see. You were kidnapped from Earth. Like a dog in chains, you were pulled into the Tower to become a stepping stone for a worthy seeker. Your existence is laughable! Yet you still dare to look down on others?" He taunted with a smirk. "You should be ashamed of what you've become instead."

"You dare speak of shame?" the masters of the 7th Abyssal Gate snapped, speaking in a cold and enraged tone. "You should ask your king about that word!"

"What do you mean?" Ray's brow furrowed.

"Your king," they spat, "was nothing but a slav. Our slave! He survived by leeching off of our mercy. It was our mercy that kept him alive. And how did he repay us? He betrayed us!"

"Nonsense!" Ray retorted coldly.

"The truth is bitter, isn't it?" The masters of the 7th Abyssal Gate smiled mockingly. "Your king was our slave. If he hadn't backstabbed us when we least expected it, your kind would have remained our slaves for eternity. That is your true history, human!"

"That's different from what I heard," Ray said.

According to the tales of the Dark Ages, King Leon braved great dangers and brought back invaluable knowledge from the Tower of Enlightenment — knowledge that could transform an ordinary man into a tamer who could enslave demonic creatures and wield supernatural powers.

He shared it selflessly with his people, giving rise to the first generation of tamers!

The words of the masters of the 7th Abyssal Gate contradicted that tale.

Ray couldn't help but doubt them.

Not to mention, demons were known for their lies. Believing their words would be the height of foolishness.

"You were lied to," the great ones said, their voice as haughty as ever. "We conquered your world. We razed your cities and destroyed all your nations. Yet we let you live. Instead of erasing your pathetic species, we allowed your kind to continue your lineage under our banner as our slaves. That mercy—our mercy—is the only reason you exist today.

"This is the truth of the first few centuries of the Dark Age. The Common Era ended in our absolute victory! We got everything we planned for. Earth was ours. Its mindless inhabitants were reduced to our livestocks. And those with intellect like humans were turned into our slaves!"

A ripple of doubt flickered through Ray's conviction. He hated it, but facts proved, he could not completely deny their words.

There was no record of what had happened in the first half of the Dark Age — as if it had been intentionally hidden because it was too humiliating to reveal.

The greatest truth of that time might very well be that King Leon and the ancestors of all the humans of the present era were once slaves to the demonic creatures!

Still, his jaw tightened, and his gaze turned sharp again.

"You say humans were your slaves?" he said, his tone steady but laced with fury. "Then let me ask you—how did you get beaten black and blue by those same slaves, huh?"

The great ones snapped.

"He interfered!" they roared, their teeth grinding audibly beneath the hood, their voice dripping with hatred yet also tinged with fear and respect.

"Who is he?"

"The Primordial Hunter. Tyrant One!"

That name hit Ray like a thunderclap.

Half the man he was today was thanks to Tyrant One.

After all, the soul cultivation method was the reason why his soul quality and magic power was so high despite being only at the peak of the Iron Rank!

If he hadn't come across it when he did, most of the battles he fought could have never been won.

He might have lost his life long ago!

"What?" Ray was shocked to hear that name coming out of the Great Ones's mouth.

They continued speaking angrily.

"Tyrant One passed down his inheritance to a mere slave! If not for that — if not for his ultimate weapons, the taming seals, falling into the hands of Leon, that backstabbing bastard — humans of Earth would have remained wastes of space, to be toyed with whenever, however, wherever we the demonic creatures liked! That's the truth of your trash race!"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Says the chained dog being used as live target practice!"

To add insult to injury, he laughed mockingly.

"You just hastened your death," the Great Ones said flatly, rising from the throne. They gripped their staff tightly.

"Open! 7th Abyssal Gate!"

The bottom tip of the staff struck the floor, producing a deep metallic thud.

Immediately after.

Cracks spread across the ground, glowing faintly with blood-red light. A moment later, portals burst open all around the hall, vomiting out undead in the thousands.

The massive hall was suddenly overfilled with all manner of hideous creatures.

The Great Ones lifted their staff, pointing it directly at Ray.

"Kill him!"

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