“The hell is happening to this place?”
Jin’s thoughts escaped his lips, sounding like a dry rasp against the blistering wind. The transition from the cool Neo-Tokyo evening to the interior of the RIFT was like being shoved into a pre-heated oven.
As throngs of Players rushed towards the exit – a tide of panicked humans in scorched, broken gear – Jin was a lone stone standing against a violent current. He paid no mind to the frantic escapees who bumped into him, and in their terror, they failed to notice the ‘Herbalist’ walking the wrong way towards certain death.
Before him, the landscape of Vesuvius’ Rage unfurled like a vision of a dead world. It was a desolate wasteland, devoid of flora or fauna, dominated by rivers of sluggish, glowing lava that sprawled across the brown-grey, lifeless earth like the veins of a dying titan.
“Cough! Cough! This is bad. Really bad,” Jin wheezed.
Even with his mask pulled tight, the air felt like liquid fire in his lungs. He shielded his eyes with his arm as sulphurous smoke geysers erupted from the jagged ground, his gaze darting between the faces of the escaping Players. He was looking for one face. The only face that mattered.
The System messages flickered in his peripheral vision, cold and indifferent:
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“Hurry up! The second eruption is about to start!” a retreating scout screamed, his boots smoking. “B-But there are still people inside the volcano!” a younger Player cried out, looking back in horror. “You still worry about those Achievers?! Those lots are fucking crazy!”
Achievers.
Jin had heard the term often during his years as a Cleaner, and even more during his training classes – a low-whispered word usually dripping with equal parts awe and loathing. Achievers were the elite, pre-formed raid parties backed by major corporations. They were the greyhounds of the RIFT world, tasked with being the first to everything.
The first to clear mission objectives. The first to slay Boss Monsters. The first to wipe the ‘fog of war’ from the map, charting new terrain for their companies to exploit. These Players didn't care about the loot – they cared about the System Achievements. The titles, the permanent stat boosts, and the global bragging rights were worth more than gold to them.
Companies like White Raven.
After hearing the rumours and collecting the information himself, Jin dreaded that the company had drafted Eleana into their ranks. To them, she wasn't a girl with a life; she was a corporate pawn they shoved into the most dangerous zones for the sake of a leaderboard. To Jin, this was history repeating itself. It mirrored the fate the von Englehardt family had inflicted upon her mother, Elyzabeth.
Jin pressed on. A few leering eyes followed him, and one grizzled warrior even shouted a warning, trying to convince Jin to return. Going solo was akin to suicide. Yet, he didn’t care. Cattleya, Fenrir, and the pack were all the backup he needed.
By the time he reached the foot of Vesuvius Mountain, the heat was unbearable. Sweat poured down his forehead, soaking his mask until it felt like a wet rag against his skin. Gasping for breath in the sulphur-thick air, he finally pulled his hood and mask down to gulp at the toxic atmosphere.
“Bloody fucking place to be,” he mumbled. “Achievers or not, you’ve got to be a special type of crazy to stay in here.”
“Are you alright, Master? You look distressed,” a tiny voice chirped. Cattleya, the Thousand-Year Caterpillar, peeked out from the security of his pocket.
“I’m alright, Catt. Thank you for asking,” Jin replied, his voice softening for a second before turning serious. “But I’m not happy. What’s the point of being first if you’re dead? If Eleana is indeed here, then she’s with a company that values her life as much as a used potion bottle.”
“But Master, how do we find the young lady?” Cattleya asked, hitting the core of the problem. “She wasn’t with the ones who escaped. She’s in there somewhere... but where?”
“The worm is right, my lord,” Fenrir’s voice rumbled as he manifested beside Jin.
Cattleya bristled at the choice of words, and the two began a brief, sharp bicker before Jin silenced them with a single look.
“I apologise, my lord,” Fenrir bowed his head. “But as the wor-I mean, caterpillar said, how do we search? Even with the whole pack, we cannot cover every inch of this forsaken place before the next eruption.”
Jin looked at the base of the mountain and felt a surge of dread. He had expected one or two main vents. Instead, dozens upon dozens of jagged cave entrances pockmarked the face of the volcano like open wounds. He had no map and no intel.
As a Cleaner seven years ago, he had mined in dormant volcanoes, but an active C-Class RIFT was a different monster altogether. He watched the System’s clock tick down, each second feeling like a moment too long. Heartbeats he couldn't afford to lose.
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“We’re going to do a sweeping search on the southern face first,” Jin commanded, his voice cracked under the weight of his own words. He looked at the twelve shimmering forms of the Shadow Wolf pack. “Sound is better than sight in these tunnels. Concentrate on any noise – clanking armour, swords clashing, shouting. And if Eleana is truly here…”
His voice trailed off into a low, dangerous growl. “They'd better hope not a single hair on her head is singed. Else, the volcano won't be the only thing erupting today.”
With a sharp wave of his hand, the wolves vanished into the dark maws of the mountainside. Jin chose the largest central cave and plunged in. Almost an hour passed in a blur of suffocating heat and sulphurous fog. Jin pushed himself until his lungs burned, but the search was a nightmare of dead ends. He finally hit a terminal point: a massive magmafall that fed into a bubbling, red-hot lake. There was no way forward.
When he retreated to the entrance, the Shadow Wolf pack was already waiting, their heads low. They had found nothing. Above them, the mountain groaned. The ground trembled as the volcano grew more active, forcing Jin back into the open air for safety.
He was at his limit. His body was failing. The < Pharaoh’s Commandment >, the robe he had received from the Anpu Statue as a reward, shimmered with crimson-obsidian light, its elemental resistance the only thing preventing his skin from blistering. He downed two healing potions to combat the toxic air, but his stamina bar was flashing red.
Jin stared at the jagged peak, his mind going blank. The second eruption was imminent. With his resources stretched to the breaking point, the stoic man finally collapsed. He fell to his knees in the hot ash, cursing his luck as scalding tears trickled down his cheeks.
“That is rather rare,” a familiar, deep and regal voice echoed in his mind. “I have never seen you cry. Is this what humans do when faced with the impossible?”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Bee?” Jin croaked. “If it were just me alone, I’d laugh it off. But the thought of my daughter trapped in that hell while I stand here being useless… it’s making me lose my mind.”
“Unable to do anything? Are you sure?”
A shimmering ripple appeared in the air, and Bahamut manifested in his physical form, his majestic obsidian scales reflecting the glow of the lava. “And here I thought I had given you power beyond all others.”
“What good is power if I can’t save her?!” Jin retorted, his grief turning to rage. “I don't need to be a God, Bee. All I ever want is my daughter to be safe and sound.”
Bahamut let out a long, weary sigh. “What does Atheron see in you humans to have the System initialised in your world? A young world that does not need the power. And yet I thought you might be the answer I sought, Jin. Alas, you disappoint me.”
“Spare me the patronising,” Jin snapped. “I haven't the time to entertain a God who has no emotions. No family. Nothing!”
“Well, I have you,” Bahamut said, turning his head, his eyes locked into Jin’s. “Or am I not part of this ‘family’ you speak of? And do you truly think that daughter of yours is your only kin?”
Jin froze, staring at the God-Emperor in silence.
“I bestowed power upon you to protect what you love,” Bahamut continued. “Forget about me. But is Cattleya not a family? Is Fenrir? Or are they tools to be discarded when they fail to yield the results you want?”
“God-Emperor, please!” Fenrir stepped forward, the entire pack flanking him. Their heads bowed. “My lord is a kind soul. The fear of failing his child has clouded his heart. Please, forgive us.”
“Y-Yes!” Cattleya burst from Jin’s pocket, shifting into her full, fluffy form. “I have been useless to Master! Punish me instead, Almighty! Don’t be harsh on him!”
Bahamut’s deep gaze – the eyes that reflected the very soul of the universe itself – softened. “Why would I punish children? If anything, I should punish your Master. But then again, Jin is like a child to me as well. And a parent is, after all, responsible for his child's failures.”
He raised a massive, razor-sharp claw, pointing towards a high, jagged cave near the summit. A magmafall. One Jin had ignored earlier because it seemed impossible for any sane person to survive.
“There,” Bahamut rumbled. “The shortest route. It leads to what you call ruins. Your daughter is there with nine other humans. Ten in total, all still fighting for their lives.”
Jin didn't wait for another word. He vaulted onto Fenrir’s back, his fatigue forgotten as a new, sharp, and unrelenting focus took hold. The Shadow Wolf pack took off like a streak of darkness against the orange glow of the mountain.
As they vanished into the upper heights, Bahamut watched them with a faint, rare smile.
“Hopefully, Atheron would not mind me meddling in his realm,” the God-Emperor and Ruler of Allbeast whispered to the wind. “I have a child to protect, after all. And besides, without him, I would never get to enjoy that premium cinnamon bread again.”
***
The interior of the upper caves was a labyrinth of molten deathtraps. Higher-level versions of slimes – creatures that were usually trivial F-Class nuisances – clung to the ceiling like glowing, dungeon tumours, dripping acidic fire onto the path below. Massive , twenty-foot titans of rock and living fire, stood guard in the narrow passages like silent sentinels of the core.
Jin didn’t have a second to waste on them. Thanks to the shadowsea and Fenrir’s incredible speed and dexterity, they became nothing more than blurred statues of stone. The Shadow Wolf alpha leapt over enemies and magma pits with ravening grace, navigating jagged obsidian outcroppings as if he were running on flat ground.
It took fifteen minutes to reach the heart of the volcano. When the ruins finally came into view, the sheer scale of the environmental hazard forced a grimace onto Jin’s face.
The structure was a high-rise platform of ancient, scorched stone, teetering in the middle of a lake of bubbling white-hot magma. The air was thick with a toxic, shimmering haze that made the corner of his vision pulse blood-red.
<< Warning: Extreme Environmental Hazard >>
<< Status Effect: Volcanic Ash Inhalation >>
<< You will lose 5% HP every 10 minutes regardless of armour. >>
“Could be worse,” Jin muttered, his voice muffled by the heat. He felt the
robe ripple, its fabric weaving a cool barrier around his skin. Without it, he would have been cooked alive within minutes.
“About an hour of Earth’s time left,” Jin calculated, his eyes scanning the ruins for signs of life. “With Fenrir’s speed, I think I could–”
A thunderous roar cut him off. It wasn’t the sound of the volcano; it was the roar of a beast, followed by the unmistakable clink-clank of heavy steel hitting rock.
“That must be them! Come on, Fenrir. Let’s go!”
The Shadow Wolf alpha required no further command. He sprinted towards the source of the noise, vaulting over fallen pillars and stone debris as if they were pebbles. He landed atop a solitary standing pillar that overlooked the central arena. Jin peered down, his heart hammering against his ribs. He counted ten Players.
On one side of the platform, five Players huddled against a broken wall. Four of them slumped over, their gear scorched and useless, while a fifth – a frantic-looking healer – was desperately cycling through low-mana restoration spells and potions. A glance confirmed it: none of them was Eleana.
More clanking echoed from the far side of the platform. Jin turned his gaze. There, the remaining five Players struggled in a life-or-death situation with a massive version of a .
“Fenrir. Get us closer.”
The wolf merged with the long shadows cast by the lava-light, approaching the battle with the silence of a phantom.
“You! To the right! Surround its flanks!” shouted the group’s leader. He was clad in elaborate, shimmering golden armour that screamed ‘Isekai Hero’.
“Lilian, forget the defensive buffs! I’ll handle the aggro! Cover us with your strongest offensive support spells!”
The supporter hesitated for a fraction of a second – aware of how dangerous it was to drop defences against a Level 60 Boss – before giving a meek nod.
“And you, Valkyrie, with me!” the leader roared, raising his shield and sword. “That bastard is on its last stretch! We aren't stopping until it drops!”
The name hit Jin like a pre-knockout blow. His eyebrows perked up, his focus narrowing on the girl in the winged helmet. She wore a beautiful matching armour set of black and gold, though it was now jagged and soot-stained. A rounded shield clung to her back, and she wielded twin longswords that hummed with a gentle, warm light.
“Wouldn’t hurt to see what they’re fighting, right?”
As if answering his thought, a pulse of divine energy radiated from his eyes. Bahamut was aiding him once again, temporarily bestowing the to pierce through the RIFT's hidden System.
“Ah. Not as dangerous as that damned Anpu Statue.” Jin muttered to himself. “Maybe they can do it, after all.”
As the fight resumed, Jin watched with a critical, analytical judgment. Their teamwork was flawless – a jaw-dropping choreographed dance of steel and magic. It was a far cry from the amateurish blunders he’d seen from many groups in the lower-ranked RIFTs. These five were professionals, accomplished and well-funded Players
But the longer Jin watched, the more his worry turned into dread. The choreography was beautiful, but it was rigid. They were fighting by a manual and a system, and the Golem didn't follow those. Focusing only on the offence, their leader missed the tell-tale sign of an incoming Area of Effect (AOE) skill – a slight shifting of the Boss’ stance as it drew power from the molten lake below.
‘One should not kill-steal another’s quarry.’
The old RIFT proverb echoed in Jin’s mind. It was a matter of honour, but honour didn't mean much to a father watching his child’s party fall apart. The leader – his Class was Aegis Chevalier – failed to block the shockwave. Valkyrie, caught in mid-dash, took the brunt of the fire-elemental explosion.
“AAAAHHH!!!”
The scream shattered Jin’s focus. The Boss Monster had landed a direct, heavy strike. Valkyrie hurtled backwards, her body smashing through a series of broken walls and pillars before she finally stopped, pinned against a pile of rubble. Her back shield had absorbed the impact, likely saving her spine. But she was motionless, gasping for air as her HP bar dipped into the red zone.
The impact had jarred her winged helmet loose. As she struggled to push herself up, the heavy metal mask slipped off, clattering across the ruins' floor.
Long, blonde hair spilt out. A face that Jin hadn't seen in seven years – a face that carried the haunting beauty of his late wife and the stubborn fire of his own soul – stared out from the wreckage.
It was her. It was Eleana. His tween daughter, now a teenager.
The ‘cool and calm’ mask on Jin’s own face seemed to crack under the pressure of the killing intent radiating from his body. Every ounce of restraint, every bit of the ‘father not meddling with their children’s business’ persona he had built based on Old Man Sid’s advice, vanished in an instant.
The Magma Golem Sovereign raised its massive fist to finish the job, but it ground to a halt. Not because any of her party members cast a paralysing skill. It stopped because the air in the ruin had thickened with wrath that the mindless monster felt a primal instinct to flee.
Jin didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He slid off Fenrir’s back and stepped into the light, his eyes glowing with a cold, golden light that made the volcano’s lava seem dim by comparison.
The father was home. And he was angry.