[Welcome back to the path to the strongest.]

  [First Mission: De-escalate the tension between the military and the five martial families before war breaks out. You’ll need all hands on deck for what’s coming.]

  The glowing text hovered in Jun-Hyuk’s vision like a warning bell, stark and impossible to ignore. As the mission briefing faded, his eyes snapped to the unfolding chaos ahead. Soldiers in sleek uniforms, glowing blue guns aimed, stood locked in a tense standoff with members of the five martial families. Their traditional armor, ornate and battle-worn, seemed like relics of another era, yet their presence commanded respect, even in this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

  Jun-Hyuk blinked, struggling to process how quickly alliances had crumbled. The last time he was here, these same people had fought together against the level seven sphere creature, their combined strength barely enough to survive. Now, every strained breath in the air reeked of hostility, like the smallest spark would ignite war.

  His gaze swept the scene. There was Lian Hua, standing resolutely at his father Feng Jian’s side, her expression a mask of icy determination. He searched for the soldiers who had fought beside them, wondering where their solidarity had gone. How could allies turn on each other so quickly? It was almost too much for Jun-Hyuk’s high school mind to comprehend.

  Then his focus flicked back to the mission screen, the words echoing in his head:

  "All hands on deck."

  What did that mean? And more importantly, what the hell is coming?

  A booming voice cut through his thoughts like a hammer striking stone.

  “I’m commanding all heads of the martial families to surrender peacefully,” declared Tian Zhenyu, the military commander. His words carried an unyielding authority, as if surrender was not a request but an inevitability. “The military has taken full control of the dome city. We will protect the citizens as we see fit.”

  Liang Zheng, head of the first martial family, laughed—a dry, bitter sound that carried no warmth. “Disappointing, Zhenyu. After all the support we gave you, after propping you up to lead the military, this is how you repay us?” His voice dripped with disdain, cutting through the tension like a blade.

  Zhenyu’s expression didn’t falter. “And I’m grateful for that support,” he replied, his tone almost mockingly calm. “Which is why I’m offering you this chance to surrender peacefully. I suggest you take it.”

  Zhao Fang, the fiery head of the Zhao family, stepped forward. His movements were deliberate, every step a warning. “You must know,” he growled, “we will never bow without a fight.”

  Zhenyu’s gaze shifted to him, his expression unreadable but dangerous. “Ah, Zhao Fang. I had hoped you’d be as cooperative as your son and consider lending a hand.”

  The effect was immediate. Zhao Fang’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword, his voice a sharp growl. “What did you say about my son? He would never betray the Zhao family willingly.”

  Jun-Hyuk—or more accurately, his alter ego Feng Lei—knew better. Zhao Wei had a reputation for being slippery, loyal only to himself. From what Jun-Hyuk had seen, betrayal seemed to be second nature to him.

  Jun-Hyuk exhaled, gripping the hilt of Dawnfire tightly. Every instinct screamed at him to act, to say something—anything—that might stop this from spiraling into disaster. He swung the vehicle door open and stepped into the cold, biting air.

  The chill sent a shiver down his spine, but it wasn’t just the temperature. His skin prickled, his every sense suddenly heightened. He tilted his head back to the blood-red sky above, its ominous glow bathing the wasteland in a sinister hue. And there it was—the source of all their problems—the floating black sphere, pulsing faintly like a beating heart.

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  For a moment, all the petty arguments and power struggles seemed trivial. Whatever disaster loomed on the horizon, it was tied to that sphere. His mind raced back to the mission screen’s cryptic warning. All hands on deck. What does that mean?

  Jun-Hyuk’s stomach churned with unease. Whatever was coming, it wouldn’t wait for them to settle their differences. If they didn’t find a way to de-escalate, they’d all be too busy fighting each other to face the real enemy.

  “Why not treat the military like a 6th martial family with all the accompanying benefits.”

  The words barely left his mouth before all eyes snapped to him. The weight of their stares felt crushing, and Jun-Hyuk could feel the heat rising to his ears. His heart thundered in his chest, but he forced himself to stand tall. He had no choice but to fake confidence now.

  “This is such a petty issue to fight over,” he continued, swallowing hard. “We’re risking the safety of the entire dome city for what? A civil war? All while level-seven creatures are appearing? Honestly, it’s stupid.”

  Zhao Fang’s scoff rang out like a slap. “The military, a martial family? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Jun-Hyuk opened his mouth to respond, but his father, Feng Jian, stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “It could work. And perhaps we shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the only recorded level-seven-starred fighter.”

  Jun-Hyuk froze. His breath hitched in his throat as the weight of those words settled over him. Level-seven-starred fighter. He hadn’t even considered that in this moment. Him. He was the strongest recorded fighter in this world.

  And yet… his stomach churned uneasily. Becoming a level-seven fighter was just the tutorial, a footnote in what was to come. He knew what the system had said. If this was the starting point, then what kind of nightmare lay ahead? He’d barely scratched the surface of the challenges to come, and already, he was stronger than everyone else here.

  A chill ran down his spine, but it wasn’t from the cold air.

  The moment was broken by a sudden, low whooshing sound. It came from the horizon, like an unnatural wind cutting through the stillness. It grew louder, sharper, until the sound seemed to fill the air.

  Jun-Hyuk’s head snapped up. His heart twisted as his eyes locked on the source—a swarm of massive wolf-moths sailing straight toward them, their wings shimmering like oil slicks under the blood-red sky.

  A hundred, maybe more.

  And every single one of them glowed with the unmistakable aura of a level-seven creature.

  Gasps erupted around him. Lian Hua’s sharp intake of breath, Zhao Fang’s muttered curse, even Tian Zhenyu’s confident stance faltered. For a split second, no one moved.

  Jun-Hyuk’s grip tightened on Dawnfire. His chest heaved as he forced himself to breathe. There was no time to argue, no time to second-guess.

  “Forget the civil war,” he said, his voice steady and loud enough to cut through the growing panic. “If we don’t work together, none of us are surviving this.”

  The wolf-moths closed the distance, their glowing eyes like burning embers, and the ground beneath them began to tremble as if the earth itself was bracing for the battle to come.

  But no one was listening to Jun-Hyuk. His words were swallowed by the mounting chaos, drowned beneath the roar of panic. Someone in the crowd shouted, “Every man for himself!” and that single cry was enough to shatter whatever fragile unity remained.

  It was like a dam breaking. The martial families, who had moments ago stood proud and defiant, now scrambled like frightened animals, their retreat a chaotic storm of movement. Warriors who had once faced down fearsome creatures with unshakable resolve now tripped over each other in their desperation to reach the safety of the dome. The air was filled with frantic shouts, the clatter of weapons hastily sheathed, and the sound of boots pounding against the earth.

  Jun-Hyuk stood frozen amidst the frenzy, his eyes locked on the approaching swarm. The wolf-moths were closer now, their monstrous forms growing larger with every beat of their wings. He could feel the air vibrating with their sheer power, a suffocating pulse that seemed to steal the strength from his legs.

  “Jun-Hyuk!” His father’s voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, sharp and commanding. Feng Jian grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “If we stay here, we’re all dead! Retreat for now!”

  Jun-Hyuk turned to look at his father, his mind torn between the instinct to flee and the urge to stand his ground. But before he could respond, the first wolf-moth let out an earsplitting screech, its glowing eyes locking onto him like a predator marking its prey.

  And in that moment, Jun-Hyuk knew—running might not even be an option.