Kael kept his eyes on Arthur, who had sunk into silence. He wasn't looking for answers in his gaze but seemed to be evaluating whether his words had been fully understood.
At last, he rose from his chair.
"I've said all I needed to," he said, his voice firm and weary. "That's all from me for today."
Arthur didn't move, only sighed quietly and gave a slight nod.
"Very well... as you wish. We'll continue tomorrow."
As Kael turned away, Arthur slowly straightened in his chair and adjusted his coat.
"Tonight, you'll be staying in room seventeen, in the guest quarters on the northern side of the Federation," he said. "Get some rest, because…"
His eyes focused subtly on Kael's back.
"Tomorrow will be a long night."
Kael said nothing, simply nodded and began to walk. His steps were heavy as he moved toward the door. When it opened, the cold wind of the capital slipped inside, dispersing the room's heavy air just a bit.
Arthur watched him go for a moment.
"I hope you're as solid as I think you are, Kael Virelion," he murmured to himself.
When the door closed, only the flickering candlelight and Arthur's silhouette fading into the shadows remained.
They walked quietly along the broad, stone-paved path. The tall walls of the Federation building loomed closer. The sunset had painted the sky in shades of orange, and the elongated shadows on the road fell across Kael's face. Orion, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, spoke up.
"Hey, Kael..." he said hesitantly. "What you said in that dungeon… was it true?"
Kael turned his head slightly toward him, his gaze distant but his tone calm.
"Yes… unfortunately, all of it."
Orion paused, then raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Then how did you hunt without a license, man?"
Kael let out a faint sigh and shrugged as he continued walking.
"You know… there's a shortage of hunters in the towns. Some guilds, especially in hard times, don't care much about licenses. I hid my identity and took assignments in places desperate for help."
Orion shook his head slowly, still trying to digest what he was hearing.
"How many years have you been training and hunting?"
Kael's answer was clear.
"Eleven years."
Orion's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Eleven years?! How old are you?"
Kael gave a small smile, the weariness of the past showing in his eyes.
"Twenty."
Orion stood speechless. Thinking back on Kael's seasoned and calm demeanor, things were starting to make a bit more sense. Silence settled for a while, with only their footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Orion still hadn't shaken off his astonishment. "Twenty…" he murmured to himself. Meanwhile, Kael silently approached the massive stone gates of the Federation's main building. The two guards at the entrance, following Arthur's prior instructions, were waiting for them. Kael gave them a brief nod, and they silently opened the gate in response.
As soon as they stepped inside, a chill yet orderly atmosphere greeted them. The marble floor was spotless, and golden-laced lamps along the walls provided dim but sufficient light. The interior of the Federation was nothing like the gloomy streets outside—everything was in its place, radiating discipline and order.
At the end of the corridor, they reached a large, ornate door. Elegant lettering across the top read:
"Advisor's Chamber – Bashar Verathar"
Orion glanced at the door in surprise. "Even the name sounds stern," he muttered to himself.
Kael gave a slight nod, then knocked twice on the door.
A deep, aged yet reassuring voice called from within:
"Enter."
The door creaked open slowly, and a warm scent of spices and old books spilled into the air. The room was quite large; the walls were lined with bookshelves, a broad desk stood at the center, and a map table occupied a corner. Behind the desk sat an old man with a gray beard, posture straight and eyes piercing as he scrutinized them.
Kael stepped inside, with Orion following close behind. The advisor's gaze lingered a moment too long on Kael's face, as if trying to uncover something hidden deep within. Then he gave a small nod.
"So you're Kael Virelion."
Advisor Bashar Verathar looked Kael over from head to toe. His eyes held the weight of age and experience. He pushed a parchment aside and clasped his hands over the desk.
Bashar:
"The look on your face... long roads, heavy thoughts, and a hint of sorrow. I'm guessing I'm not too far off."
Kael:
"Not a bad guess."
Bashar smiled faintly. It wasn't warm or cold—just perfectly balanced.
Bashar:
"For someone like you to come to the capital, especially at Arthur's personal request... that's not common. I've heard about what you saw in the dungeons. Would you care to share, or do you feel you've said enough?"
Kael lowered his head slightly, his eyes on the floor.
Kael:
"I thought what I said would be enough. But I suppose this story won't end here."
Bashar nodded slowly, then tapped his fingers lightly against the desk.
Bashar:
"Dungeons, young man, are not just stone and earth. What remains within tends to seep out in time. Sometimes as darkness, sometimes as a whisper. And those whispers tend to find people like you—the ones who've seen too much."
Orion gently nudged Kael's shoulder and leaned in slightly.
Orion:
"So… what now? Are we supposed to rest, or is our advisor going to test us?"
Bashar turned his eyes to Orion, the trace of a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.
Bashar:
"People who ask questions like yours are usually either very young… or very impatient. Rest would be best. A weary mind is easily deceived at night."
Kael raised his head and looked straight into the advisor's eyes.
Kael:
"I don't know what we'll face tomorrow. But we'll be ready."
Bashar didn't break eye contact, then gave a slow nod.
Bashar:
"Tomorrow, your questions will weigh as much as the answers. Rest now, Kael Virelion. The Federation's future may depend as much on men like you as its present does."
With a final motion of his head, he gestured to the door. Kael and Orion left in silence, the soft rustle of old parchments the only sound remaining in the room.
They quietly made their way through the corridor and reached the room assigned to them. It was modest but comfortable: two beds, a small table, and velvet curtains covering the window.
Orion immediately took off his jacket and dropped onto the bed. Kael slowly removed his cloak and sat on the edge of his bed. Stretching his legs forward, he turned to Orion and asked:
Kael:
"Aren't you a capital hunter? How do you not know Arthur?"
Orion let out a sigh and laid his head back on the pillow.
Orion:
"All I got was a contract. Entry permit to the capital, followed by some paperwork for identity and license... that was it. I signed a form, they gave me a test—purely procedural. No one asked anything else."
Kael frowned and turned slightly.
Kael:
"No representatives? No advisors? You don't talk to anyone directly?"
Orion shook his head.
Orion:
"No. Just a letter, a test, and a three-year contract. You serve under the Federation and go wherever they send you. That's all."
Hearing this, Kael lay back on his bed and rested his head. His eyes stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Silence fell for a moment.
Orion:
"Kael… what do you think will happen tomorrow?"
Kael continued staring at the ceiling without blinking.
Kael:
"We won't know until tomorrow comes."
The only sound in the room was the wind outside. Soon, Kael's breathing slowed and his eyes closed. Orion lay awake a bit longer, staring at the ceiling, then eventually closed his eyes as well.
Their first night in the capital passed quietly, caught between the traces of the past and the shadow of what was yet to come.
The sun had yet to rise. The sky was painted in hues between pale blue and gray, and the capital was slowly stirring awake. Orion rubbed his eyes and sat up, glancing at the bed across from him. Kael's bed was empty.
All that remained was his folded cloak and the neatly arranged sheets. Curious, Orion walked to the window. Peeking through the curtain, he spotted Kael outside behind the guesthouse, already training in the morning chill. His skin glistened with sweat as he moved deftly around a wooden dummy, transitioning smoothly between strikes and breathing exercises.
Unable to resist, Orion stepped outside.
Orion:
"When did you even wake up?"
Kael turned and gave a faint smile. He was breathing heavily, but his voice remained calm.
Kael:
"Not long ago… Didn't want to miss the morning chill."
Orion:
"Do you always train this early?"
Kael wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm and let out a short chuckle.
Kael:
"Almost every morning. If you let your body rust, your sword will betray you."
Kael:
"You go on to the mess hall. I'll change and catch up."
Orion didn't press further, simply nodded and headed back inside. A few minutes later, Kael joined him in the dining hall, cleaned up and changed. They ate breakfast quietly together.
Once they finished, they made their way to the advisory building. As they stepped through the doors, Arthur was already waiting for them. His attire was, as always, meticulous—short cloak draped over one shoulder, with his usual charismatic smirk in place.
Arthur:
"Hope you had a pleasant night?"
Kael met Arthur's eyes and gave a short but respectful nod.
Kael:
"Don't worry. It was just fine."
Arthur returned the nod slightly.
Arthur:
"Then let's head to the testing ground, shall we?"
As Orion walked behind Arthur, his brows furrowed.
Orion:
"Testing ground? What kind of test?"
Arthur answered while walking, without looking back.
Arthur:
"First of all, we need to get you both licensed. After all… you wouldn't want to be accused of entering dungeons illegally, would you?"
He threw a sideways glance at Kael as he said it. Kael kept walking, silent and unflinching.
Together, they arrived at a large stone building. Inside was a vast arena. The stands were filled with spectators. On the upper levels sat Federation members cloaked in gray, watching silently. Down below stood two commanders—distinguished by their uniforms—and in front of them, a crowd of aspiring hunters: some tense, some excited.
Arthur stepped onto a small platform near the edge of the arena and turned around.
Arthur:
"Welcome. This test is not just a formality. It's a chance for everyone to see what you're truly worth."
Kael and Orion exchanged glances. The resolve in their eyes said it all—this was more than just a test. It was the beginning of something greater.
Arthur took a few steps forward, his voice echoing throughout the hall:
Arthur:
"Your performance today will determine your rank. Remember, winning isn't everything. What matters is your technique, your strategy, and your perseverance. Those who rank low—do not despair; this test is held every year. Anyone who improves will get another chance."
At that moment, an official began reading names from a parchment. Several hunters in the crowd stood up, walking nervously and excitedly toward the field. Some drew swords, others checked their bows, some wiped sweat from their palms…
Arthur leaned in toward Kael, speaking softly:
Arthur:
"Pay close attention. Your name will be called soon."
Then he straightened up and returned to his post.
Kael glanced briefly at the candidates walking onto the field, then turned to Orion.
Kael:
"So this is the 'formality' you were talking about?"
Orion narrowed his eyes as he watched the field and shook his head.
Orion:
"No. We didn't go through this. Those of us who were recruited... we had a different process. I just signed a paper, took a skill assessment, and that was it."
Kael let his eyes drift across the arena floor for a moment. Then:
Kael:
"What's your rank?"
Orion:
"D-rank."
Kael observed two people who had just entered the arena. One was short and nimble, the other bulky with an air of self-confidence.
Kael:
"Do you know the ones conducting the test?"
Orion:
"Yeah… I went into a dungeon with them once."
Kael turned to look at Orion's expression, raising a single brow.
Kael:
"Are they strong?"
Orion looked away, his voice tinged with bitterness.
Orion:
"I mean… yeah. But more importantly, they know exactly whose backs to watch."
Kael glanced at him sideways, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Kael:
"Sounds like you don't have the best memories of these testers."
Orion's fists clenched. A fire flickered in his eyes—resentment, anger, and a deep, smoldering hunger for revenge.
Orion:
"Those bastards kept me out of every dungeon. I ran out of money, slept on the streets for days. They didn't want me. They held me back—on purpose."
Kael remained silent for a moment. Then he turned his eyes back to the arena and smiled faintly.
Kael:
"How about we get some payback?"
Orion turned to Kael in surprise. For a moment, he hesitated, then his expression hardened.
Orion:
"I'd be honored…"
His voice was low but resolute. He was no longer alone.
A loud announcement echoed across the arena:
"There has been a change in the list. Orion Redcliff, to the field!"
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. It was rare for a new name to be inserted at the last moment. Orion turned to Kael in shock.
"What did you do?" he whispered.
Kael stood with his arms crossed, his face calm.
"You wanted revenge, didn't you? Well... the stage is yours."
Orion swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and started walking. He descended the stone steps slowly and stepped onto the field. On the opposite side stood a man in light armor of black and gray tones. He was young, but his gaze was cold and sharp. Two short swords were strapped to his back. Several people in the crowd whispered his name.
"One of the testers... Rellin Torge... A C-rank hunter."
The official's voice rang out again:
"Orion Redcliff, facing off against C-rank licensed test hunter Rellin Torge. You will be judged based on agility, endurance, and technical skill. Lethal attacks are prohibited. If you're ready… begin!"
Rellin's eyes widened when he saw Orion for the first time. He paused for a brief moment, then smiled with a mocking expression.
"You… It's you, isn't it?" he said with a sneer. "The weak little rookie who couldn't even make it into a dungeon a few years ago. Hahaha! What are you doing here now?"
Something stirred inside Orion. His mind raced with memories of those days—struggling to get into a dungeon, being mocked by Rellin and others like him, being deemed weak and denied entry. Back then, he had no hope. But now, he stood face to face with the very man who had once humiliated him.
The anger within him grew stronger with every second.
Orion raised his hands as cold air began to swirl around him.
"I didn't come here to be a spectator this time," he said, his voice hardening.
Rellin smirked.
"So, you've gotten a little stronger, huh? Come on then, let's see what you've got."
Rellin charged forward. His first move: both swords aimed in a clean arc toward Orion's torso. Orion jumped back to dodge, but instead of retreating again, he pushed forward. Channeling his ice element, he froze the ground beneath his feet, sliding sharply to the right to catch Rellin off guard. He shaped the ice in his palms into a spear and hurled it straight ahead.
Rellin managed to shatter the ice with one of his blades, but the sheer speed of the attack threw him off. Orion wasn't just fighting with skill—he was fueled by years of pain, and it sharpened every strike he made. Rellin stepped back, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes.
"What the… Where's that weak rookie? Who is this guy?" he muttered, now beginning to move with more caution.
Orion smirked coldly.
"That kid you refused to let into the dungeon… he's standing right in front of you now."
With a swift move, he summoned a chain of ice and caught Rellin's leg.
Rellin fell to the ground, his swords flying from his hands. Orion closed in with ferocity, all the anger and humiliation of the past years igniting his strikes. Faces from his memories flashed through his mind—those who had dismissed him, mocked him. Most of all, Rellin.
Just as Orion raised his hand for another attack, the official's voice rang out:
"Enough! The test is successfully completed!"
The crowd had fallen silent. Orion walked off the field slowly, while Rellin remained on the ground, staring downward. The expression on his face was the exact opposite of the one he wore years ago when he'd scorned Orion—and that alone gave Orion a deep sense of satisfaction.
Kael stepped forward to meet him.
"You did well," Kael said, his tone carrying calm approval.
Orion wiped the sweat from his brow.
"I did well?"
Kael gave a faint smile.
"Well enough to silence a few people."
Arthur approached and placed a hand on Orion's shoulder.
"You came here as a D-rank… but I must say—you're knocking on the door of C."
Orion paused, surprised, but also pleased. His eyes gleamed.
"You know what it feels like to stand before those who once shut the door in your face?" he said with a small smile. "It's... incredibly satisfying."
Arthur turned his gaze back to the field.
"Now it's your turn, Virelion."
Another announcement followed:
"Kael Virelion, to the field!"
Kael rose from his seat in silence. He adjusted his coat, made sure his sword was secure, and began walking steadily toward the arena.
As he reached the steps, Arthur stepped beside him with a sly smile.
"Your fight won't be as easy as Orion's, Mr. Virelion."
Kael turned his head slightly, meeting Arthur's gaze.
"Let's see what you've got, Lord Lancer," he replied with a faint grin, and then stepped onto the field.
The announcer's voice echoed again:
"Kael Virelion will face off against: B-rank test hunter, Lothar Egran."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd. A B-rank hunter facing an unranked candidate was far from normal.
Orion turned to Arthur in shock.
"B-rank? Are you serious? Isn't that a bit much?"
Arthur didn't look away from the arena.
"I hope it's not too much. Otherwise… I'd be disappointed."
Orion looked at Lothar—his massive weapon, his armor—and let out a long sigh.
"Kael… I really hope you know what you're doing."
When Lothar stepped onto the field, the ground gave a subtle tremble beneath his heavy steps. He wore a thick suit of black steel armor, and a massive two-handed sword was strapped across his back. His gaze swept over Kael from head to toe.
Lothar spoke with a deep, booming voice:
"Virelion, huh? You carry the name with some presence. Let's see if your strength lives up to it."
Kael rolled his neck slightly.
"That's what I came to find out."
The official raised his hands and called out once more:
"Begin!"
Without hesitation, Lothar drew his greatsword and launched forward like a battering ram. The sheer weight behind his first swing sent a gust of wind rippling across the field. Kael sidestepped the blow with precise timing, narrowly avoiding the blade that cracked the arena floor where he had just been standing.
Kael didn't waste time. He moved low and fast, aiming for Lothar's side, but the bulky man reacted faster than expected. He spun around, swinging the hilt of his sword like a club. Kael ducked and rolled back to gain distance.
The crowd leaned in. Whispers passed through the stands.
"He's fast... for someone in that armor."
"But the other one... he's reading every move."
Kael's eyes didn't blink. He analyzed every shift in Lothar's stance, every subtle change in rhythm. Lothar, on the other hand, began to grow more aggressive, each strike heavier and louder, shaking the field as Kael continued to slip just out of reach.
Then Kael shifted.
With a sudden burst, he dashed in close, pivoted behind Lothar's left shoulder, and made a quick slash with his sword—not to wound, but to test spacing. Lothar blocked it, barely.
Lothar growled.
"You're toying with me."
Kael replied calmly.
"No. Just measuring you."
Lothar roared, slamming his sword into the ground to launch a shockwave of debris and dust. The sudden blast clouded the arena. Spectators gasped, unable to see clearly. For a moment, only silence.
Then—clang!
From the haze, Kael's blade met Lothar's again. This time, Kael struck hard and fast, using the limited visibility to his advantage. He landed a shallow cut across Lothar's armored forearm—not enough to injure, but enough to sting.
Lothar staggered slightly, surprised.
"Where the hell did you—"
Kael appeared at his flank again, striking with a flurry of precise blows, forcing the larger man onto the defensive. Lothar grunted, retreating two steps, raising his sword to parry—but Kael had already vanished from that angle, reappearing behind him.
A kick landed squarely between the armor plates on Lothar's leg, breaking his stance.
Before Kael could capitalize, the official's voice thundered:
"Enough! The test is concluded!"
The dust finally settled.
Kael stood steady, sword at his side. Lothar was breathing heavily, eyes wide—not from fear, but disbelief. He looked down at the small dent in his armor, then back at Kael.
From the stands, murmurs turned to applause. Even some of the gray-cloaked Federation members had leaned forward, impressed.
Orion whistled low from the sidelines.
"Okay… that was something else."
Arthur approached with slow, deliberate steps, a glint of amusement in his eye.
Arthur:
"Well, Mr. Virelion. You didn't disappoint."
Kael sheathed his sword and glanced at him.
"Neither did your test."
Arthur chuckled.
"You're officially licensed now. But more than that… you've caught the attention of some important people."
Kael didn't reply. He simply walked off the field, calm as ever.