Hunt Race

Several days passed.

By the end of the week, Kael's injuries had healed enough for the Guild healer to allow light exercise.

"Don't mistake 'healed' for 'fully recovered,'" the old healer warned.

Kael smiled.

"I won't."

The healer snorted.

"They all say that."

Leaving the infirmary, Kael wandered through the Guild courtyard.

Hunters came and went through the gates, some returning with carts loaded with beast carcasses while others headed out with fresh commissions.

His eyes drifted toward the commission hall.

For a moment, he considered taking another mission.

Then he remembered Green Moss Valley.

The beast.

The pain.

How close he had come to dying.

Without another thought, he turned toward the training grounds.

---

The clash of steel echoed across the field.

Dozens of hunters trained in groups while instructors walked among them, correcting mistakes.

Some practiced swordsmanship.

Others focused on archery, spears, or hand-to-hand combat.

Kael found an empty practice space and slowly drew his sword.

He settled into a stance.

Then swung.

Again.

Again.

Again.

"You rely too much on your arms."

Kael stopped.

An older man stood a few paces away.

His hair was streaked with gray, and a long scar ran from his jaw to his neck.

He carried a wooden practice sword across one shoulder.

"I..."

Kael lowered his blade.

"I didn't notice."

"That's the problem."

The man walked closer.

"You're trying to overpower your opponent."

He tapped Kael's front foot with the wooden sword.

"Your stance is unstable."

Another tap against his shoulder.

"Your balance shifts every time you swing."

"And your breathing..."

He shook his head.

"...is all over the place."

Kael scratched the back of his neck.

"I guess I have a lot to learn."

The man gave a short laugh.

"You're alive."

"That means you still can."

He studied Kael for a moment.

"You're the rookie from Green Moss Valley."

Kael blinked.

"You've heard about it?"

"The Guild has."

The instructor folded his arms.

"I also heard you survived a hunt that wasn't meant for an Iron Rank hunter."

Kael frowned.

"Iron Rank?"

The man raised an eyebrow.

"They never explained the ranking system to you?"

Kael shook his head.

"I only registered a few days before that commission."

"Hm."

The instructor nodded to himself.

"Then listen carefully."

"The Guild divides hunters into seven ranks."

"Iron."

"Bronze."

"Silver."

"Gold."

"Platinum."

"Mithril."

"And Adamant."

"New hunters begin at Iron."

"They're expected to take simple commissions while they build experience."

He looked Kael straight in the eye.

"The beast in Green Moss Valley..."

"...was well beyond what an Iron Rank hunter should face."

Kael remembered every desperate moment of the fight.

"So I was lucky."

"Lucky?"

The instructor shook his head.

"No."

"You survived because you refused to give up."

He paused.

"But don't confuse surviving once with being ready."

"Next time..."

He tossed the wooden practice sword toward Kael.

"...let's see if you can learn before another beast has to teach you."

Kael caught it instinctively.

A small smile formed on his face.

"Yes, sir."

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