‎A bearded man sat on a chair, facing a young man across the room. The younger man had black hair, styled in a wolf cut and tied upwards.

‎His complexion was pale and smooth, almost like silk.

‎Several fresh wounds marked his skin, though they were already beginning to heal. Both men sat in silence, divided by the wooden partition between them.

‎They were inside a confessional room within the Citadel — a sprawling sanctuary that housed more than four hundred people. Many were gathered in groups, and in all regards, it resembled a small city of its own, complete with a market and everything one could possibly need, though everything came at a price.

‎The bearded man within the room was the third highest-ranking hunter in the entire Citadel, commanding a hunting party of over a hundred individuals. He was, in truth, a Tier Five and had garnered numerous accolades throughout his tenure within the Trial Zone.

‎The other young man, however, could presently be regarded as a nobody, possessing no notable accomplishments to his name, or at least none known to the public. He had merely joined the Citadel some three months prior, along with three others, and was therefore recognised by virtually no one.

‎The bearded man's expression remained cold and devoid of discernible emotion as he regarded the youth before him, who appeared somewhat lost within the confines of his own thoughts.

‎Truly, who would not be? For the past five minutes, the man known as Bethel had refrained from uttering a single word.

‎After a time, he cleared his throat and spoke with grave composure:

‎"So, you claim your name is... Kyle, yes? And you wish to join my hunting party, correct?"

‎Kyle's eyes gleamed with delight.

‎'Finally, he said something.'

‎He turned his attention back to Bethel with a faint smile before responding:

‎"Yes. I actually went around, and your hunting party was recommended as the best among the best. So..."

‎Kyle was uncertain what else to say, and this was, in truth, the best he could manage. Though he regretted that he could not deceive Bethel further than this effortless remark, he believed it was still sufficient.

‎Besides, this was a mission...

‎Bethel remained silent for a moment, staring directly into Kyle's eyes as though attempting to detect a falsehood. Ordinarily, Bethel was known as the sort who instinctively judged everyone he met and trusted no one. Therefore, whatever they intended to accomplish was bound to prove quite difficult with him standing in the way, not to mention that he was the ultimate objective.

‎The man closed his eyes briefly and sighed, then replied:

‎"If you want to get better at flattery, you should enrol in a class for it. By the way, I do not just allow anyone to join my hunting party..."

‎Kyle narrowed his eyes and, after a moment, chuckled.

‎'What is he going to ask for? A hundred Essence Cores? In your dreams, you bastard. I don't even have half,' his inner voice muttered, earning him a brief scowl.

‎He quickly dismissed the thought and said to Bethel in a calm yet confident tone:

‎"What are the requirements, sir?"

‎"Are you even sure you can meet them?" Bethel inquired, raising an eyebrow.

‎He studied Kyle closely. Truthfully, he did not appear to be an extraordinary talent or some prodigious fighter. Even when he submitted his application, he was merely a Tier Three with an Adaptive Void Element. Neither Bethel nor his core members were certain whether the Element was powerful or weak, as it was the first of its kind they had ever encountered. It was entirely unique, though the skill he displayed, Black Thread, seemed to hold considerable potential.

‎Thus, they granted him the opportunity for this meeting. Beyond that, he did not appear particularly remarkable. Of course, he had entered the Citadel as a Tier Three and had remained so for three months. That was not because he refrained from hunting, since survival within the Citadel depended heavily on acquiring Essence Cores, which were also essential for growing stronger.

‎The true difficulty every hunter faced in advancing through the ranks was that the stronger one became, the harder it grew to progress further. Naturally, slaying a Cursed Rank creature would have provided him with sixty percent of his Spiritual Energy when he was Tier Two, but now, as Tier Three, it only granted five. Creatures below that rank barely offered one percent. After hunting over fifty creatures, the highest among them being Cursed Rank, he had yet to advance to Layer Two of Tier Three.

‎Although he allowed Bask to hunt, the tamed being had accumulated just over one hundred points of Spiritual Energy, despite having slain more creatures than Kyle himself. However, Kyle had not yet permitted it to face a Brutal Rank opponent. In any case, all of this merely illustrated how arduous it was to grow stronger. Only then did Kyle truly comprehend the kind of torment the beautiful stranger must have endured to ascend even further in rank...

‎Back to the matter at hand, Kyle couldn't help but grimace. It seemed as though Bethel was trying to classify him as weak. How hard could it truly be to meet their requirement... so long as it didn't involve facing a Brutal Rank creature?

‎...But even then, he had Bask at his side.

‎"Well, what are the requirements first?" Kyle inquired confidently, steeling himself for whatever absurd demand was about to be thrown his way.

‎Immediately, Bethel responded in a low tone:

‎"There's a hunting ground we want cleared, but we've been occupied with others. It's quite a simple one, the kind a single hunter can manage: two Cursed Rank Titan-types and fifty Enraged Rank Glassfang rats. They occupy different territories, but they're close enough in distance that it shouldn't be an issue, right? Since you have such an impressive solo kill count?"

‎Kyle's eyes widened, his mouth nearly falling open. The requirement was utterly absurd; it reminded him of that one time when Colette, back in the real world, had described the conditions needed to break through into Tier 2. If not for Orion, he would have been dead and never made it.

‎'Are you kidding me!?' he screamed inwardly.

‎Unfortunate as it was, Kyle was beginning to suspect that the word requirements itself was cursed against him. Yet, he quickly pushed the thought aside as a spark of inspiration flickered in his mind. He knew perfectly well that Bethel had no real intention of letting him join the hunting party, since no solo hunter could possibly clear such a field. Even Bethel, a Tier 5, would need at least two skilled allies.

‎However, Kyle was determined to give the man the shock of his life by accepting the challenge and completing it — well, not entirely alone.

‎Confident now, he replied steadily:

‎"Okay. I'll clear it."

‎Bethel flinched but quickly regained his composure, careful not to lose his calm as the leader of the third most prominent hunting party, one even favoured by the Lord of the Citadel. Kyle, on the other hand, was ready for anything, for this mission meant far more than it seemed.

‎...The question was: what exactly was this mission?

‎And the answer: that remained a secret among the four. In short, and with a hint of spoiler, its success would ensure their recognition across the Citadel, granting them the chance to establish their own hunting party with ease. This was not about wealth, prestige, or influence. No, they needed people, many of them, for a greater purpose, a mission that would ultimately involve Fire, Steel, and Blood...

‎Bethel rose from his chair and began to walk away from Kyle. Stopping by the old, rusted door, he tilted his head slightly to the side and spoke in a deep, cold tone filled with quiet loathing:

‎"Your overconfidence will drown you in your own blood, with your eyes closed and your heart refusing to beat. By then, you will be forgotten, though you are already insignificant. Still, I wish you luck in clearing the hunting ground. Bring me the Essence cores and the heads of the two Cursed rank Titan types."

‎'Umm... no.'

‎Kyle let out a short laugh, causing Bethel to turn his head sharply towards him, bewildered.

‎Did he just laugh at his words?

‎Such arrogance from a nobody..?

‎Kyle scoffed lightly before replying with a calm yet pointed tone:

‎"I don't quite understand what you mean, because as far as I'm aware, I'm only required to clear the hunting ground, not to risk my life and then hand over the spoils. You wouldn't expect that of me, would you?"

***

Entrance to Volume Two: Crimson Covenant.

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