Beast Realms: Trapped in the Game

They continued hunting over the next few days—traversing rocky ridges, dry valleys, and grasslands. 

Wein's movements steadily improved. His footwork grew more balanced, his swordplay more precise. He began to read the beasts—anticipating their charges, dodging their swipes, and landing clean, efficient strikes.

It was far more effective than simply sparring with Terr.

On the sixth day, Terr watched him with quiet pride.

"I think you're ready," he said. "With the way you've been handling those beasts, I'd say you can already clear the second level of the Beast Tower."

"Then… shall we head back?" Wein asked.

"Yes. I think we've gone far enough. The Ratcha groups we've been encountering are increasing in number. If we push much deeper, we might run into trouble."

"Alright. I think we've harvested a decent amount of beast crystals already."

Wein adjusted the pack slung over his shoulder, its weight heavy with the beast crystals they had gathered from the fallen beasts.

Hunting wasn't just for training—it was also a way to gather beast crystals.

Wein knew he couldn't always rely on Terr when it came to money. He had to start earning for himself.

"Then let's head back tomorrow," Terr said.

Wein nodded, his gaze drifting toward the distant horizon. 

The Beast Tower awaited them.

And now, the thought of stepping into the Tower no longer filled him with fear.

In fact… he was starting to look forward to it.

—

The sky above the Galevarn Realm—Level 50—was unusually clear, an endless stretch of pale blue undisturbed by wind or cloud. The air was still, deceptively calm.

Atop the high walls of the Galevarn Stronghold, watchtowers stood like silent sentinels.

Compared to the bustling lower-level fortresses, this one was subdued—sparse in manpower, with only a handful of seasoned guards pacing its ramparts. Their armor gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting off the polished scales of their spirit beasts that rested nearby.

Suddenly, a shrill, bone-chilling shriek tore through the quiet sky.

The few guards on duty instinctively turned, scanning the horizon.

And then—they saw it.

A massive shadow swept across the sun.

Four wings spread wide, easily spanning over twenty meters from tip to tip, glided effortlessly through the sky. The creature's feathers shimmered in an unnatural black sheen, like polished obsidian. 

But what froze the blood of every man watching were its eyes—two glowing blue orbs that radiated eerie, intelligent light.

"…What in the gods' name is that?" one of the guards murmured, eyes wide with disbelief.

"It's not a Galevarn," another replied, voice tense.

Galevarns—the apex predators of this level—were white, with red eyes and wind-bound talons. But this… this was different. A mutation? A higher breed? Or something entirely alien?

"SOUND THE ALARM!"

The command rang out like a thunderclap across the stronghold.

A sharp CLANG followed as the bell was struck, its resonant toll echoing through the silent towers—urgent and unmistakable.

The guards moved instantly, their reactions sharp and precise. This wasn't the first time a beast had threatened the gate, and their training showed in every motion.

Flash! Flash! Flash!

Beasts of all shapes and sizes surged forth beside their summoners, summoned in bursts of light. Weapons were drawn in perfect unison—bow, swords, spears, polearms—all glinting under the sun.

Along the perimeter of the stronghold, entire units snapped into coordinated formations, forming a seamless defensive ring around the gate. Their movements were swift and disciplined, like clockwork—refined by countless battles and drills.

FWOOOM!

The sound of the wings slicing the sky was deafening. The air vibrated with the sheer force of its presence.

The beast banked sharply and dove—low, almost brushing the rooftops with its massive body. Its talons—each as large as a full-grown man—glinted like polished blades in the sun.

From below, confusion etched on everyone's face.

"What the hell is that?" a middle-aged man barked, gripping his spear.

"I don't know," a veteran growled, tightening his gauntlets. "But we can't let it near the gate."

As if hearing them, the creature's luminous eyes locked onto the Gate—the massive structure at the center of the stronghold. It pulsed faintly with divine energy, wrapped in sacred barriers of runes and iron. 

Then—it suddenly dove down.

FWWWWSSSHHH!

A violent gust exploded behind it as the beast plummeted like a thunderbolt, its massive wings folding tight against its body.

The air screamed.

"Quick, stop it!!"

"Don't let it through the gate!"

"Guard the gate! Now!"

But it was already too late.

Arrows were loosed. Spears hurled—but it was all useless.

The beast was too fast.

The moment their attacks closed in, the creature seemed to blur—then vanish—slipping through the gate like a wisp of wind through a crack in stone.

A heartbeat of stunned silence followed.

Then—pandemonium.

"What the hell just happened?!"

"It went through the gate!"

"Damn it—pursue it! Now!"

"Someone go report to Command—immediately!"

On the other side of Gate 50, in the lands bordering the realm's outer fringe, a team of outer guards stationed near the relay outpost staggered as a pressure wave surged past them.

In an instant, a black shape erupted from the gate.

WHOOSH!

Like an arrow loosed from a divine bow, the beast launched straight into the sky. It ascended in a blur, leaving only a streak of shadow against the clouds.

It was so fast, most never even got a clear look.

"What… was that?!"

"Was that—was that a beast?! From inside?!"

"Did a beast just come out of Gate 50?!"

The guards scrambled.

"Notify the Alliance! A beast just breached Gate 50—repeat, breach confirmed!"

A chorus of horns blared, echoing across the hills as guards summoned their beasts and began pursuit.

But the shadow was already a dot in the sky, rapidly fading toward the unknown.