Chapter 30:

Chapter 30 - "Is This an S-Rank Threat?"Chapter 30

Han stood motionless, eyes locked on the towering entity before him. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from anticipation. He had always wondered how he would fare against an S-rank opponent. Class S heroes were known to possess unimaginable power, capable of overwhelming entire legions of lower-ranked heroes with ease.

There was only one reason Han had concluded this portal boss was of that caliber: the system's message.

[Hidden Quest Received]

Quest: Survive

The system rarely handed out quests—especially not like this. No details, no objectives. Just one word: survive. That alone told Han everything he needed to know.

But there was something strange. Unlike the many monsters he'd faced before, this one didn't charge at him immediately. It just hovered above the lava, its molten form pulsing with heat as it stared at him in silence.

Then it moved—gracefully, almost lazily—floating away from the volcano to land a few meters ahead.

"Navi," Han muttered.

"Yes, hero?" came the AI's calm response.

"Can I teleport out of this portal?"



"No, hero. Your Teleportation skill rank is too low."

Han cursed under his breath. He'd been meaning to upgrade it, but the EP cost was absurd. And, well... he was kind of stingy.

The pressure this boss radiated was suffocating. Han readied himself. A fight seemed inevitable—

Then it spoke.

"Human. What are you seeking in my world?"

Han blinked. Did it just talk?

This wasn't the savage aggression he expected. Its voice rumbled like an inferno but carried a strange calm.

"My brother got sucked into this portal," Han replied, cautiously. "I came to rescue him."

The creature studied him with unchanging eyes.

"I sensed the loss of several of my minions moments ago," it said. "Was that your doing?"

Han scratched his neck awkwardly.

"Uhhh... they were tough... and I may have accidentally killed a few. I spared some! Does that count?"

He braced himself for an attack.

Instead, the flame spirit floated upward. For a moment, Han thought he might have avoided conflict. Then it spoke again—its voice sharp and absolute.

"You have committed three unforgivable sins, human."

"First: You dared step into my world."

"Second: You showed no respect before me."

"Third: You murdered my kin."

Han twitched. What's with this dramatic speech?

"I, Ifrit—Spirit of Flames—hereby sentence you to death."

Han's eyebrow twitched harder. Is this guy serious? Definitely has a screw loose. So much for peaceful negotiation.

Without hesitation, Han attacked first.

He dropped into a low stance, hands clawed at his side.

"Fourth Jungle Art: Cheetah Stride!"

In a blur, he vanished—reappearing mid-air, just before Ifrit.

"Fourteenth Jungle Art: Tiger Punch!" he roared, hurling his fist forward.

Ifrit met the strike with its own fiery fist. Han smirked. Rookie mistake, trying to match me in close range.

Then—boom.

The collision unleashed a shockwave of heat and force. Han was sent flying like a comet, crashing into the molten ground and carving a crater with his body.

[-40 HP | 240/300 HP Remaining]

Groaning, he stood up, his punching hand scorched and trembling.

What the hell is this thing? Ifrit hadn't even moved—it still held its fist out as if bored.

Heat rolled off its form in waves, searing the very air.

"Activate Invo Armor," Han commanded through clenched teeth.

A shimmer of invisible energy enveloped him, enhancing his defense. It drained EP steadily, but he needed the boost. No choice.

Next, he triggered Analyzer Eye, scanning Ifrit's movement. But the creature just floated there, looking down on him.

Arrogant bastard. Han surged forward at blinding speed, his right fist drawn back again.

Ifrit moved—fist raised.

But Han vanished just before impact.

Teleportation.

He reappeared behind the flame spirit, launching another Tiger Punch with everything he had. The blow connected cleanly, slamming into Ifrit's back and sending it plummeting downward.

Han clenched his fist in triumph—but the celebration was premature.

Ifrit twisted mid-air, halting its descent effortlessly and landing with unnatural grace.

Han's eye twitched. You've gotta be kidding me.

"Navi, what are my chances of taking down this damn boss?" Han asked, panting, his clothes halfway singed and his pride completely incinerated.

"Hero, based on current stats, battle conditions, and sheer stupidity, sorry I meant ferocity..." the AI paused. "Two. Perhaps."

"Why do I feel like you're lying?" Han asked suspiciously.

"Ah, you caught me. I'm lying." Navi agreed.

"...Then what's the truth?" Han asked.

"Ultimate zero." Navi declared.

Han's face twitched so hard it could've counted as a seizure. "Navi, have I ever told you how much I regret creating you?"



"No, Hero. You usually just scream into the void."

Before Han could offer a scream right on cue, a massive flaming spear hurled toward him like a pissed-off sun.

"Eleventh Jungle Art—Turtle Shield!" A swirling dome of wind energy engulfed Han just as the spear slammed into it. The barrier shook violently, cracks spreading like spiderwebs.

Crack.

Crack.

CRACK.

"Are you serious?!" Han yelped, bracing himself. The shield shattered like cheap glass—but Han was ready.

"First Jungle Art—Wolf Clutch!"

With a perfectly timed twist, Han snatched the spear mid-air by the handle and hurled it back with a dramatic spin. He smiled. "That should teach you some respect!"

Ifrit calmly raised a hand.

The spear froze mid-air. Then vanished.

"Human," Ifrit said with a tone of ancient patience. "You are persistent. And quite strong."

"Why do I feel like that was an insult wrapped in a compliment?" Han muttered through gritted teeth. Then he split into four identical clones, each wielding glowing white blades.

"This better work," he said, and the Hans charged.

Ifrit's response? Two flaming scythes.

Swoosh. SWOOSH.

The battlefield erupted into sparks, explosions, and the occasional curse word. For a moment, it looked like Han had the upper hand—until Ifrit began casually dismantling his clones like he was peeling potatoes.

In under a minute, all four clones were toast.

Han himself was toast.

Literally.

He crashed, rolled, and coughed smoke.

"Even with the Invo Armor, this is just... not fair," he wheezed, blood trickling from his head.

Ifrit slowly turned, its blazing eyes meeting Han's.

Then—

DING!

[System Alert: Host is under mental attack. If gaze is not averted, health will drop drastically.]

Han immediately looked away, but too late. His organs screamed.

[-40 HP]

[HP: 100/300]

"What kind freak is this?" Han groaned, clutching his burning chest.

Just then, another system message popped up:

[Two hours remaining for Rin in inventory.]

Han's eyes widened. His brother was running out of time.

"Nope. Not today, flame freak."

Han leapt into the air, activating a technique outside his usual Jungle Arts.

"Phantom Form."

He launched a strike toward Ifrit, who caught it with ease—but that was just the bait. In an instant, several blows landed from different angles. The phantom form allowed Han to deceive his opponent's senses, masking his true attacks. Each hit was followed by a fierce Tiger Punch, delivered with relentless speed.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The final blow sent Ifrit flying, crashing into the ground with thunderous force. But Han didn't slow down. He pressed forward, eyes glowing with analytical light.

There...

His analyzer vision locked onto a small white gem embedded in Ifrit's upper chest.

That's the weak point. If I destroy it, this ends.

Ifrit began to rise, but Han was already descending, body spinning with intense momentum.

"Tenth Jungle Art: Falcon Dive!"

He drove downward like a missile—but Ifrit reacted, raising both arms. The boss blocked the strike mid-air, deflecting Han's momentum and causing him to stumble. Off balance, Han summoned his last burst of strength and slammed a Tiger Punch directly into the gem.

Crack—

Nothing. No crack. Not even a scratch.

What...? That was supposed to be the weak point! Han screamed inwardly.

Before he could recover, Ifrit countered with a brutal uppercut to his throat. Han flew backward, smashing through layers of red stone and forming a deep crater on impact.

[Warning! HP critically low. Immediate healing required.]

Han's vision blurred as pain wracked his body. Legs trembling, he forced himself up, staring weakly at the floating HP bar.

10 / 300 HP remaining.



High above, Ifrit hovered like a looming shadow. "It's over, human. Accept your fate."

But Han wasn't finished.

With shaking hands, he raised his palm, summoning a glowing white pill from his inventory. He swallowed it without hesitation.

Light surged through him. Wounds vanished. His stance straightened.


[HP Restored: 300/300]

[Energy: 5000/5000]

Ifrit's looks stunned for the first time, just moments ago, Han looked half-dead—now, he stood fully restored, like nothing had happened.

Han looked up at him and spoke calmly.

"You're wrong about one thing... I haven't played all my cards."

He bent forward slightly. His teeth sharpened into fangs. Fingers morphed into gleaming white claws. Muscles surged and stretched. His pupils thinned into slits.

"Fifteenth Jungle Art: Lion Roar."

To be continued.