"Clarice, why did you become a hunter?"

  She looked at me, her blue eyes bright under the moonlight. "It’s my calling." She smiled.

  "Who’s calling?"

  She giggled, gently ruffling my hair. "Myself, of course."

  "Hmm?" I squinted up at her. "I don’t understand."

  "Soon, you will understand, Rammy." She pressed her forehead gently against mine. "It is our calling, our family duty."

  Brutal daylight forced my eyes open. A sudden, blinding ache in every muscle assaulted my senses.

  Shit. I can’t sit up. I looked around, realizing I was lying on a woven mat beneath the thick canopy of a massive tree.

  This isn't the courtyard. Where am I?

  "You're awake? Good." A flat voice broke through my confusion. I turned my head. It was Tessa.

  "I'll give you this much—the fact that you're still alive after taking a red aura strike directly is impressive." Her tone was entirely devoid of emotion.

  I stayed silent.

  "Get up soon, shrimp. This isn't a picnic. You have half an hour to get on your feet." She turned and walked away.

  Fuck. I forced my muscles to obey. Every single cell in my body felt like it had been torn apart. A cold sweat poured from my skin. The moment my feet touched the dirt, a violent wave of pain rushed up my spine.

  Damn it! I gritted my teeth.

  "Easy there, Rammy," Tris said, stepping out from behind the tree.

  "Did I fail?"

  She chuckled. "Why are you asking?"

  "Isn’t it obvious?"

  "Did you really think that spar was a qualification test?"

  "What else would it be?"

  She smirked. "It was just a spar, Rammy." She sat down on a protruding root. "Besides, the role was already assigned."

  I stared at her.

  She met my gaze, her smile fading. "But are you absolutely sure you want to walk this path?"

  "...It is my calling."

  She exhaled softly. "Rammy, you know the difference, right? Being a Mentor is no joke."

  "Huh? You’re the one who assigned me to it, remember?"

  She averted her eyes to the ground. "It was Zerav’s recommendation. I didn't even suggest your name."

  "What? Why would the Ghost recommend me?"

  She shook her head. "I don’t know either. He just walked into the office, dropped your name to the Guild Master, and left. He's an eccentric, even among the Stalkers, but he never suggests a name without careful consideration."

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  She turned back to me. "Agon was wondering why he suggested you too, which is why he summoned you to the city. But after he read your parchment and met you, he just told me, 'It’s necessary.'"

  I frowned. "Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"

  "Because I thought Agon would reconsider and place you on a regular raid team. I didn’t expect him to actually make you a Mentor."

  I forced myself to stand, picking up my leather armor and strapping it tightly over my bruised chest. "I got my assignment, and I’ll do it."

  I looked down at her. "And I don't need a pity party." Leaving Tris behind, I limped back toward the courtyard.

  *

  After an agonizing walk, I finally reached the courtyard. As I passed through the iron gates, every single gaze in the yard locked onto me.

  "Hell of a fight."

  I stopped. Xion suddenly approached me, extending his hand. "I’m Xion."

  I looked at him for a second before shaking it. "Ramond."

  He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "You've got some serious moves, man."

  "You were completely combat-ready, even without relying on a drop of magic or aura," a new voice rumbled. A towering powerhouse of a man stepped up beside Xion. "Name's Vanden."

  I gave him a stiff nod. "Ramond."

  Vanden smiled, a warm, booming expression. "I honestly didn't expect you to survive a Master’s strike point-blank, let alone beat him to a bloody pulp in pure melee."

  My eyes widened. I shot a look at Xion. "You’re a Master?"

  Xion laughed awkwardly, looking completely different from the arrogant fighter in the ring. "Not officially. I just mastered my red aura last week. Still getting a handle on the output."

  Vanden let out a booming laugh. "Don't be modest, man! You just need to take the guild's qualification test so you can join the Master ranks officially!"

  I looked up at the giant. "Wait, you’re already a Master?”

  Vanden nodded casually. "Going on a year now." He clapped a massive, heavy hand onto my battered shoulder, surprisingly gentle. "We should grab a drink together sometime, Ramond. We’re fellow Mentors now. We'll need the liquid courage."

  Xion chuckled. "Careful. This dude can drink like an ogre."

  "Heh. I appreciate the offer," I said, the tension finally leaving my shoulders.

  "Besides," Vanden added, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes flicked to my left neck. "it’s been a long time since I met a person with a Dagger tattoo."

  Thump. My heart slammed against my ribs. I stared sharply at Vanden. "You know about the Dagger?"

  "Huh? Well—"

  Clap! Clap! Clap! "Line up! Stand on your designated numbers!" Tessa’s voice roared across the courtyard, cutting him off.

  "That’s our cue. Let’s move before she decides to use us for target practice," Vanden laughed, turning away.

  Dammit. I swallowed the desperate questions burning in my throat and forced my legs to carry me toward the chalk circle bearing my number.

  "Now, it’s time to meet your Crawlers!" Tessa yelled, her fierce gaze fixed on the heavy oak doors of the Left-Wing barracks. "Open the doors!"

  A moment later, dozens of Advanced Hunters flooded into the courtyard. They quickly scrambled to line up in front of their designated Mentors.

  My eyes caught on four painfully familiar faces lining up directly in front of me.

  "M-Mister Ramond!" Kenny gasped, nearly tripping over his own spear. Absolute, starry-eyed awe was plastered across his face.

  "I am so glad you’re our Mentor, sir!" Hoiler barked, snapping his boots together and throwing up a perfectly rigid, completely unnecessary salute.

  "Hi!" Patrice waved wildly, nearly braining Kenny with the haft of her battleaxe.

  Mathilda didn't speak, but she gave a deep, respectful nod, her cheeks flushed bright red.

  What the fuck? I looked around, scanning the other Mentor units. Was I seriously the only one who got stuck with a squad of absolute greenhorns?

  "You have exactly two weeks of preparation before your first deployment into the dark caves!" Tessa's voice rang out, commanding total silence. "Listen to your Mentor’s instructions! Prepare your gear and your bodies properly, because your damn lives are on the line!"

  Her tone shifted, dropping into something dark and deadly serious. "Remember. As Cave Crawlers, failure is not an option. Understood?!"

  "Yes, ma’am!" the courtyard roared back.

  "Good. Mentors, collect your units. Dismissed." Without another word, she marched out of the yard.

  "So! What should we do first, sir?" Hoiler asked, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

  I let out a massive, soul-crushing sigh. For fuck's sake. The guild never gave me instructions, they stuck me with absolute rookies, and they are throwing us into the deadliest vanguard unit in the kingdom.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.

  "Sir?" Hoiler asked again, his enthusiasm faltering slightly.

  I dropped my hand, opening my eyes to pin them with a cold, deadpan stare. They looked so eager. So blissfully unaware of the meat grinder they had just volunteered for.

  Sigh. I have to make this work. If I don't, they are going to die down there. "Listen up, kids," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous gravel. "We are starting our preparations right now."

  "Huh? What kind of preparations, sir? I already sharpened my axe!" Patrice beamed, proudly patting her weapon.

  "We aren't worrying about logistics or weapons yet." I took a slow step forward, letting my shadow fall over their eager faces. "We are starting from the absolute basics. Brace yourselves, kids. Your hell starts today."