Chapter 60
"What exactly is a Black Portal?" Chief Morel asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. The question seemed harmless enough—at least to him.
But the room's atmosphere shifted instantly.
The other heroes—those whose names struck fear and awe across nations—went pale. Eyes once calm were now hard, grim. Some clenched their fists. Others looked away entirely.
To Chief Morel, the world only knew of four portal classes: blue, green, yellow, and red. Blue being minor disturbances, green and yellow representing serious threats, and red… cataclysmic. A red portal break was the nightmare scenario—the kind that could wipe out entire nations.
So why were these titans reacting as if the word Black Portal was death itself?
"What's wrong?" he asked cautiously, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He could feel it—the weight of their stares. Any one of them could end him in a second. And right now, it felt like they might.
"Calm down," Lord Tech said, raising a hand to steady the room. He turned his gaze to the chiefs—Morel and the others, save for Reynold, looked completely lost.
"I'll explain," he said, voice low and grave. "You already know that if a red portal breaks, it can annihilate half a continent, yes?"
Chief Morel nodded slowly. That much was common knowledge.
"Then understand this," Lord Tech said. "If a black portal breaks—the world ends."
Morel blinked, stunned. "That's… hard to believe."
Lord Tech's eyes darkened, and he shook his head. "You weren't there. You don't know."
He paused before continuing. "You've all heard of the Sendok Calamity, haven't you?"
The room fell silent again.
Of course they had. Every living person had. The disaster that nearly drove humanity to extinction. Billions gone. Cities erased. A dark age born in fire and screams.
"It was never caused by multiple red portal breaks," Lord Tech said. "That was a lie told to contain the fear."
He looked straight at Morel, his voice sharper now.
"The truth is—a single black portal broke. That's what caused the Sendok Calamity."
Morel felt the blood drain from his face.
If Lord Tech was right—and the weight in his voice said he was—then a black portal wasn't just a threat. It was a death sentence for the entire planet.
Lord Tech continued, now that understanding had sunk in. "That's why the Cursed Organization must be stopped. We can't afford another Sendok."
The meeting went on for hours. Discussions, arguments, strategies. And in the end, a plan was formed. Slowly, the heroes and chiefs departed, their footsteps heavy.
Only three remained.
Lord Tech was absorbed in his work, sending and receiving data across dozens of channels.
The Beast stared at one empty chair.
The No One Hero. Still absent. He had hoped—believed—he'd show up.
But whatever that enigma was doing, it was keeping him away.
The Beast turned his eyes to the far side of the room, where the Undying Flame stood at the edge of the building, gazing out into the sky.
"What are you thinking?" the Beast asked quietly.
The Undying Flame didn't turn. "It's funny, isn't it?" he said, his voice distant. "There are still people out there who don't understand how terrifying a Black Portal really is."
He looked down at his hands, hands that had burned through thousands of enemies—yet still trembled at the memory.
"If they truly knew," he said, "they wouldn't even be able to stand."
The Beast nodded solemnly.
They knew—because they had survived it.
Only five Class S heroes had made it through the Sendok Calamity: the Undying Flame, Gold Walker, Tech Lord, Sword Blitz… and himself.
Back then, the world was different. Dozens of S-Rank heroes walked the earth—cocky, independent, untouchable. They refused to cooperate. One by one, they fell. Arrogance turned to ash.
There had once been over a hundred S-Rankers.
Now, with Drunken Samurai's death… only eleven remained.
Even with the combined force of over seventy class S heroes, when they finally faced the boss of the black portal…
They lost. Brutally.
Flashback – Years Ago
Blood painted the ground like a crimson sea.
A younger Undying Flame gasped for air, body broken and charred, struggling to rise. Around him, dozens of corpses—his comrades, friends, legends—lay lifeless.
They had fought with everything, yet it wasn't enough.
He would have died there too… if not for them.
From the shadow of destruction, five figures stood.
Four men with bright white hair—two with short cuts, two with long flowing locks—and a woman with jet-black hair that shimmered with power.
They didn't speak.
They didn't hesitate.
They faced the boss—and defeated it effortlessly. As if it were nothing.
The Undying Flame, still bleeding, could only stare from the ground, wide-eyed and shaking.
"Who… the hell are they?" he had whispered.
And to this day… he still didn't know.
Back to present.
"You weren't there… neither was Gold Walker," the Undying Flame thought, his gaze still locked on the clouds above. "But they saved humanity."
Where those mysterious heroes had gone, no one knew. He had searched—relentlessly. For years. Every trace, every lead… vanished into nothing. It was as if they had never existed.
"If they left behind a kin… a descendant… someone," he wondered, "then maybe… just maybe, that person could stop the coming storm."
---
Northern Continent
"Ashuum!"
A sudden sneeze escaped from a young man with striking hair—half black, half white, split perfectly down the middle.
His three companions turned to give him a strange look.
"Sorry," Han said sheepishly, rubbing his nose.
Behind them, the air rippled violently—a swirling red portal throbbed like a living wound in the sky. Though it wasn't close to the city of Serenya yet, its instability made it a ticking time bomb. Han had no intention of letting it break.
But he'd learned his lesson. He wasn't going in alone this time.
Beside him stood Aiden, calm and ready; then Clara, clad in her upgraded TechBot 2.0—a sleek, reinforced exo-suit pulsing with energy. Though the consumption rate was still a problem, the new model was leagues ahead in strength and defense. She felt safe in it. Capable.
And finally, there was Ron—tall, broad, and wielding a massive hammer that seemed almost comically large… until you saw what it could do in battle.
Behind the, Ronan and a few guild members had gathered to see them off.
Han clapped Ronan on the shoulder. "I'm trusting you to watch over Serenya while we're gone."
Ronan gave a single nod. He wouldn't refuse. These people… they were more than comrades. They were the closest thing to family he had now.
Han had considered taking Ronan along. He was strong, a true warrior—but Ron still had the edge in sheer destructive power. With him, the clearing would be faster… and safer.
With confident smiles, the four turned and walked into the red portal.
If anyone had seen them smiling like that while stepping into something that could annihilate entire regions, they'd have thought they were utterly insane.
---
"Commander Ronan," one of the guild members said cheerfully, "there's no need to be tense. They'll be back soon. Nothing's going to happen in such a short time."
But Ronan's gut twisted at those words.
In his experience… the things that shouldn't happen were always the ones that did.
And suddenly, that quiet fear inside him turned into a loud alarm.
His eyes narrowed.
"Everyone—back to Serenya. Now!"
He dashed off without waiting. The rest followed, puzzled but trusting.
---
Entrance to Serenya – Moments Earlier
Three figures stood at the city's edge, cloaked in blood-red armor.
At their head was a man with neat, curly blond hair and a wicked glint in his eyes. He stared at Serenya like a predator eyeing prey.
"So this is the city," he muttered. "The one with that irritating little guild."
"Let's burn it to ash," said another—tattoos snaking up every inch of his exposed skin, his smile twisted with cruelty.
But the blond man raised a hand, stopping him.
"No," he said, voice like ice. "Burning it would be far too merciful."
His smile widened, revealing teeth like daggers.
"We're going to show them what real suffering looks like… before they die."
---
To Be Continued...