Demonic Pornstar System novel Chapter 479

Chapter 479: Invaders

The first intruders stepped through the dungeon entrance without a word. Black robes brushed across the stone floor, each step quiet and controlled.

Masks hid every face. No patterns, no colors, only matte black plates cut to erase identity. Fifty of them filed in, moving with practiced rhythm. No one lingered. No one looked around in curiosity. They moved like people who had rehearsed this kind of entry more times than they could count - these were seasoned dungeon combatants.

The air shifted as their two leaders entered.

The man came first. Even beneath the robe, the fabric pulled across his frame, shaped by shoulders built from hard training. His hood cast a sharp line across his mask, which covered everything but a steady line of breath through the mouth vents. He stopped just past the threshold, planted his boots, and began to survey the entrance room to the dungeon, also known as the safe zone.

"Intel suggested to expect an abyssal hellscape. What is this dark cavern, boss?" One of the men who stepped in first asked, concerned. This was not what he was expecting, and soon, the same emotion could be observed beneath the featureless masks on many members.

While they were pros when it came to dungeon clearing, that did not mean they had to like facing the unknown or what they couldn’t quite understand.

"Forward sweep. Three units. Standard spacing. Let’s get to the bottom of it," Destro ordered. His voice carried no strain or excitement, only a matter-of-fact tone that could slot into any operation. The others reacted immediately, splitting off in organized groups.

The woman stepped in beside him. She moved with a quiet confidence that didn’t need a dramatic posture. Her build was lean, her steps careful, and she kept her hands close to her sides as she assessed the dungeon ahead. Her mask had a smoother shape, just as featureless, with a narrow slit where her eyes would be.

"Record mana signatures. We need full mapping to understand what’s going on. No stray movements," she instructed.

Her orders were crisp, spoken without urgency. The entering squad adjusted positions, spacing out to cover angles and collect data. Several members pulled out silver medallions engraved with focusing glyphs, lifting them to scan the walls. Lines of blue text lit up across the discs, tracking mana density.

"Lord Destro," one operative called. "Formation in place."

The tall man nodded once. "Good. Maintain discipline. No mistakes here."

"Lady Signa. Visual log is live," another operative said, turning toward the woman. "We can begin."

She gave a short nod. "Advance to Sector One. Keep interval."

The group began moving forward.

No chatter. No side comments. Every motion served a purpose. Each unit kept to their role: three frontline tanks, five melee damage dealers, seven rangers, and one to three supporters, depending on the team builds and needs.

This wasn’t a raid full of amateurs.

This was a trained strike team entering hostile ground with full confidence.

The squad advanced past the safe zone, but their ideal formation broke almost immediately.

The cavern split into two passageways only a few steps in. Each tunnel narrowed to the width of a hallway, the stone walls pressed so close that only two people - especially when it came to the bulky tanks - could stand shoulder to shoulder. Their planned layout collapsed at the entrance itself.

Destro exhaled through his mask. The sound was clipped and impatient. "Adjust formation. New layout. Two shields up front. Two close-combat behind them, blades and spears only. Two ranged or mages in the rear."

The units shifted without hesitation, but the cramped spacing forced every movement to be stiff and tactical. Shields scraped rock. Spears angled awkwardly. Bows and staffs pressed into backs.

Signa stepped up beside him, now beginning to show signs of clear irritation. "We must keep the pace," she ordered. "The target only settled here recently, and the government dogs are not near. Now is the perfect time."

Destro answered with a short grunt. "Team One, move. No delays."

The leading pair pushed in first. Their boots hit the stone in a steady rhythm until a sharp yelp cut through the corridor.

The front tank staggered. A metal spike jutted through the lower part of his boot. Blood began soaking the metal around it.

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