CHAPTER 356: MIGHT BE TROUBLESOME

Though the mana in the air was raging and wild, his energy could still penetrate very easily, so there was nothing wrong with his senses.

Behind them, the dark yellow portal still pulsed ominously, hovering within the cracked air.

It glowed with a violent rhythm, its edges unstable, and the jagged fractures around it shuddered in resonance.

Each pulse sent faint vibrations crawling through the ground again, as though reminding them that their only path back home was far from stable.

Harry cast it one last glance, his eyes narrowing slightly.

’A rift...’ The thought echoed within his mind. Standing here, seeing it firsthand, feeling the suffocating weight of the distorted world—it wasn’t just an abstract concept anymore. This was reality.

He shifted his gaze back to his companions.

The rest of the team had arrived safely as well.

Miranda stood off to his right, her long black hair whipping faintly against her back as she steadied her breathing.

Even here, even with tension in her stance, her green eyes held a sharp glint of determination.

The blonde woman adjusted her footing nearby, scanning the horizon with wary caution, her short hair brushing her cheek as she tightened her fists.

And then there was the burly man—their leader. Jack.

His massive frame seemed even more imposing in this strange world, the thick spiked club resting against his shoulder like an extension of his arm.

His pitch-black eyes swept across the group before finally locking on Harry, his expression carved into one of hard seriousness.

"We’re in the rift now," Jack’s voice rumbled, deep and commanding, carrying easily through the distorted air.

"Don’t get careless, and remember the reason you’re here. A rift is no child’s play. One mistake..." His gaze sharpened, lingering on Harry for a beat longer than on the others. "...and you’re dead, or worse—gravely injured."

The weight behind his words was undeniable. They weren’t empty warnings thrown into the air; they were lived truths, the kind that only came from experience.

Harry didn’t flinch under the scrutiny, nor did he look away. He simply gave a curt nod, silent understanding flashing across his eyes.

Miranda shifted her stance, her long hair swaying faintly as her sharp green eyes swept the cracked terrain.

She had been inside rifts a handful of times before—more than enough to learn that carelessness was as dangerous as the beasts themselves.

Claire, the other woman, carried herself with a calm composure that came only from experience as well.

Between the two of them, neither was new to this world. They had crossed the threshold before, felt its suffocating weight, and fought to survive within it.

Harry, however, was different. He was the only one stepping into a rift for the first time, and that fact alone had their attention drifting toward him again and again.

Even if they didn’t openly admit it, both women kept him in their periphery, watching his reactions, waiting to see if the pressure of the rift would break his composure.

Miranda’s lips curved faintly, and a quiet scoff slipped from her throat.

"Let’s just get this over with," she said, like she wanted nothing more than to get this over with.

A pair of gleaming daggers were already secured in her grip, one in each hand.

The blades caught what little light there was in the darkened rift, flashing dangerously as she twirled them once for good measure.

Claire glanced at her companion, a soft smile touching her lips.

Unlike Miranda’s sharp tone, Claire’s expression carried no edge, only a quiet steadiness. Her short blonde hair shifted slightly as she turned her gaze toward Harry for a moment, then back to Miranda, as though silently humoring her words.

Jack, however, paid Miranda’s remark no mind. His expression remained hard, his focus directed toward the land around them.

He adjusted the massive spiked club across his shoulder before his deep voice rumbled once more. "We’re quite lucky not to meet any mana beast upon entry..."

As he spoke, he tapped the sleek black watch strapped to his wrist.

The device hummed faintly, and from its surface, a holographic projection rose upward—a glowing green circle that hovered in the air before him.

At its center, a pulse of light flickered before spreading outward in gentle waves, like ripples in water. Each wave resonated with a low, almost soothing hum, and with each outward expansion, a soft beep rang out.

Harry’s eyes narrowed faintly, his gaze fixed on the circle. The watch’s glow painted their faces in an emerald sheen, faintly illuminating the tense lines carved into Jack’s expression.

A moment later, small crimson lights began to pepper the projection—tiny red dots that pulsed faintly in different areas around the circle.

At first, there were only a few. Then more appeared, scattered across the circle until more than ten points glowed ominously against the green.

Jack’s brow furrowed, a crease cutting deep across his forehead. His hand tightened on the club as he stared at the hologram.

’That’s a little odd...’ he thought. ’There are over ten mana beasts in this rift.’

It was more than he had anticipated, and certainly more than the guild’s initial analysis had predicted.

This was supposed to be a Level C rift—manageable, straightforward, nothing overly complicated for a small, balanced team like theirs.

The guild’s calculations had been clear, and the rift was supposed to be small with about five to eight mana beasts at most. Nothing close to the swarm blinking red before his eyes.

His jaw tightened, the edges of his mouth pulling downward into a grim line. ’Tch. This is out of expectations...’

He exhaled, forcing a sigh through his nose.

Though most were only stage three mana beast, he saw a few giving off the energy of a stage four beast.

Stage three beasts might be dangerous many new adventurers, but this team would still be very capable of handling them.

Stage four however, were a different matter. Even experienced fighters could find themselves struggling if caught unprepared.

Jack’s gaze flicked briefly toward Harry, studying the younger man’s calm expression. A strange glint slid through his pitch-black eyes, one he carefully masked before the others could notice.