Leaving the deafening roar of the tavern behind, I navigated the winding stone paths toward the Left-wing compound.

  Is this it? Am I finally becoming a real frontline hunter?

  A subtle smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. The dream I had chased since childhood was finally taking shape. I didn't give a damn if Roger thought the Cave Crawlers were a death sentence.

  I promised Clarice I would become the best, and I intend to keep it. Just wait for me, Clarice.

  I arrived at the Left-wing courtyard to find it already packed. Scanning the crowd, I counted about forty hunters. The vast majority carried the seasoned confidence of Vanguards, and a few radiated the dense, heavy auras of Masters.

  In our world, hunters were divided into six tiers. Newcomers were greenhorns fresh from the academy. Advanced Hunters—my current rank—handled foundational tasks. Vanguards were the standard veterans. Masters required a profound breakthrough in talent or ability, much like Tris.

  Then came the Stalkers. Some equated them to Masters in sheer power, but they operated in completely different territory—hunting both monsters and men. In the mercenary underworld, they were like a Kin-slayers. Finally, the Legends. A handful of living myths, including Guild Master Agon Ravenoir.

  Looking around, it was obvious I was the only low-tier hunter in the yard. I let out a calm exhale, entirely unfazed.

  I retreated into the shade, leaning against the cold stone wall. A few veterans shot me passing glances, while others openly glared, trying to establish dominance. I just stared back, unimpressed, before focusing on the raised wooden platform at the center of the yard.

  Interesting. A sparring arena.

  Clap! Clap! Clap!

  " Listen up, you lot!" a sharp voice cut through the murmurs.

  The crowd parted for a lean woman with golden hair pulled back into a tight tail. Her steps were firm, echoing with absolute, predatory confidence.

  Oh. That's Tessa. The Stalker.

  She vaulted effortlessly onto the stage. "Every single one of you has been selected to be a Mentor!" Her piercing gaze swept the yard. "But before you take command, we need to test your true mettle!"

  Pacing the wooden boards, she smirked. "The test is simple. A sparring tournament. But..." Her smirk widened into a feral grin. "Absolutely no weapons. Bare-handed combat only! You are free to rely on your precious magic and auras."

  "That’s complete bullshit!" a voice yelled from the back of the crowd. "Magic users will be slaughtered in a melee fight! It's an unfair disadvantage!"

  Tessa stopped dead, her eyes narrowing. "Do you honestly think a monster cares if you're fucking useless in a fistfight? Do you think a beast will patiently wait for you to draw your wand?!" She stepped to the very edge of the stage. "Who said that?"

  “…..”

  Then, the air snapped. In less than a heartbeat, Tessa simply ceased to be on the stage.

  BAM!

  A deafening crack echoed across the courtyard as the complaining hunter was suddenly embedded in the far stone wall, knocked completely unconscious.

  My eyes widened in pure awe. I hadn't even seen her move. I looked back at the center of the yard. Tessa was still standing perfectly balanced, adjusting her stance. She had just blitzed a Vanguard with enough physical speed and power to shatter stone. It was flawless execution.

  "That trash is disqualified! Any other protests?" she challenged the stunned crowd. "You call yourselves veterans! If you can’t handle the pressure, this is your chance to fuck off and go home!"

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The crowd stood frozen in silence.

  "Good. Now open your assignment parchments. You'll find a participant number inside." She pointed to an administrator standing near the stage. "Give your number to him. Move!"

  *

  After submitting my number, I walked toward an empty corner of the yard. I stretched every muscle and joint, prepping my body for the spar.

  "Now, line up!" Tessa commanded. Every hunter, myself included, formed a perimeter around the arena.

  She drew a number from the pile. "First match! Number twenty-nine, Xion!"

  A dark-haired man stepped confidently onto the wooden platform.

  "And his opponent is—" Tessa paused. She glanced down at the participant list, and a wide, wicked grin spread across her face. She let out a sharp laugh. "Well, well, well. I found something very interesting here." Her predatory eyes locked directly onto me. "A shrimp trying to become a Mentor, huh?"

  She glanced back at Xion. "It’s your lucky day." She pointed a finger right at my chest. "Get up here, shrimp! You’re in the first match."

  As always. It’s the same wherever I go. I just chuckled and walked toward the stage.

  As my feet hit the wooden panels, Xion glared down at me, radiating arrogant contempt.

  "Alright, the rules are as I stated!" Tessa called out. "No weapons, bare hands only! And..." She shot me another mocking grin. "...feel free to use your magic or aura. Begin!"

  I dropped into my stance immediately. I centered my weight, keeping my fists raised and spaced apart, primed to parry or dodge. Xion, on the other hand, stood completely lax, smirking down at me.

  I see. He wants to play with his food.

  In a split second, he lunged, throwing a vicious right hook at my face. I shifted my weight backward, tilting my head just enough to let the knuckles graze the air past my nose. But he didn’t stop. He unleashed a rapid barrage of punches, driving me backward toward the edge of the arena.

  I pivoted sharply on my lead foot, slipping past his guard and stepping around to his blind spot. He spun instantly, driving a heavy elbow toward my temple. I threw myself backward to evade the strike.

  I see it. His lower core is weak. He relies entirely on his upper body.

  I adjusted my stance, dropping my center of gravity lower, and waited. A heartbeat later, he closed the gap, launching another devastating punch at my head. His speed had increased; I barely managed to swat it away with an open palm.

  He immediately changed the trajectory of his next strike, aiming a brutal hook right at my gut. Instead of retreating, I leaned into his guard and drove a single, piston-like punch directly into his solar plexus.

  Bam!

  He staggered, his momentum completely broken. I launched a flurry of follow-up strikes, but despite his compromised balance, he managed to tightly parry them away.

  Damn. He really is a veteran.

  Xion shifted his weight backward, hopping away to put distance between us. But before he could reset his stance, I surged forward. I launched a snapping front kick squarely into his chin.

  Bam! Before he could recoil, I followed through with a crushing left sidekick to his jaw.

  Crack! Blood sprayed from his mouth as he crashed hard onto the wooden floor. I didn't hesitate. I stepped in, driving a brutal kick into his ribs while he was down. The impact sent him skidding backward across the panels.

  Grunting in pain, he managed to gather his footing and rolled up to his feet.

  "BASTARD!" he roared. A sudden, violent flux of energy erupted from his body.

  Fuck! He’s activating his aura!

  He leaped forward with terrifying speed. I dove to the right just as his fist smashed into the spot where I had been standing, splintering the wooden stage into shrapnel.

  He pivoted instantly with his superhuman reflex, a blinding red aura violently flaring around his muscles.

  Shit! I’m still in mid-air. I can’t dodge this!

  I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, bracing for the impact.

  In a flash of crimson light, he unleashed a devastating Aura Strike directly into my guard.

  BAAAAANGGG! The kinetic force was overwhelming. It shattered through my forearms, launching me backward like a ragdoll toward the perimeter stone wall.

  KABOOM!

  My spine slammed into the solid rock. All the air violently exploded from my lungs. My vision instantly blurred into static as I lost complete control of my limbs. Before I even hit the dirt, the world went pitch black.