“Huff! Huff!” Alhen panted heavily on the ground, barely being able to move from shock.

  He had been just a few moments from meeting his end before Alaran saved him.

  ‘What would have happened if I didn’t call out for him?’ He wondered, afraid of knowing the answer to his question.

  As soon as he realized that he was no longer in danger, he breathed a sigh of relief, his stomach hurting in the process.

  “Hiss!” Pain spread through his body before Alhen felt a hand reaching out and touching his shoulder, lifting him in the process.

  Looking back in a hurry, he saw his mentor watching him with an indifferent expression.

  “Why do you look like you are about to break? Get a hold of yourself,” his mentor said.

  Alhen nodded, and Alaran smiled.

  He put Alhen on the ground, still holding his shoulder and leaving him confused there for a few seconds as he tried to get away from his grip.

  “What are y- Bam!” Alhen’s words got stuck in his throat as his mentor slapped him in the back.

  He was sent tumbling to the ground, making him land face-first into it.

  “Gah!” Alhen gasped as the air got knocked out of his lungs.

  He breathed with desperation and greediness to get all the air he could, and while he did that, Alaran laughed in the background.

  “Hahaha! Kid, you should have seen your face!” he heartily laughed.

  “Come on, you cannot handle a little joke? Stand up; we are returning to the church to celebrate your first kill.”

  “H-h-he, h-e, cough! Cough!” Alhen faked a laugh before pushing himself up with his one hand and knees.

  The moment he stood up, the room tilted violently.

  Nausea churned in his gut, but he forced himself to remain on his feet.

  “Now that is how you do it,” Alaran commented.

  He took a few steps in the church’s direction before stopping.

  “Oh, I almost forgot; before we leave, absorb the energy of the wiht you killed; I will teach you how.”

  ‘He really does seem more energetic now for some reason. Could it be that my mentor is actually bipolar or something?’ He wondered before replying.

  “Why can’t I absorb the wihts that are here? Is there a problem with that?” Alhen asked.

  “Listen, kid, only absorb the energy of the wihts you kill. If you ignore this, it will eventually lead to your end. Absorbing the energy of other fallen wihts will only shorten your lifespan and make you sick with all kinds of diseases and genetic problems. Do not risk it,” Alaran warned with a serious expression.

  “But, that makes no sense! How is that possible?” He asked, confused at the thought.

  “Even the most experienced scholars have yet to understand the why. Do you really think that we mortals will one day come to understand the Lords?”

  “I guess not,” Alhen answered.

  “Listen to this, Alhen: the more you know, the more you put yourself at risk. The Lords are not forgiving, and the ‘Supreme ones’ will know immediately if you gain more knowledge than you should.” Alaran said.

  Alhen paid attention to each word said by his mentor with unwavering focus.

  “Trust me when I say that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if a Supreme or Lord takes an interest in you; it is for your own good,” his mentor explained it with such seriousness that he made sure never to forget his words.

  “Thanks for the warning. I will make sure to keep it in mind,” Alhen thanked

  “Good, it would be stupid for you to do otherwise,” Alaran replied

  ‘This world is even more dangerous than I have realized. I have to be careful with what I do or what answers I seek if I don’t want to end up dead,’ he thought.

  Alhen had a sour expression; finding out more about his situation always seemed depressing.

  They backtracked, passing through the blood of the headless wihts to walk for a few minutes before reaching the waterfall once more.

  ‘I didn’t realize that I had run so much; it took us about four minutes to get here when I only ran for some seconds,’ he thought.

  In the distance, Alhen could see a fallen wiht, they approached it and stood at its side.

  He couldn’t help but notice some kind of ethereal energy tugging on his sign.

  “Do you feel it?” Alaran asked, observing Alhen’s facial features, and he nodded.

  “Allow yourself to absorb that energy; make it yours,” Alaran said.

  Alhen, guided by his mentor’s words, allowed himself to take hold of this energy and attract it towards his sign.

  It entered without a problem, and once it did, he could feel his body warming up.

  It started as a light heat, but it grew into something that threatened to burn his whole body, feeling as if he was plunged into a deep fire.

  He dropped to one knee and struggled to breathe properly, feeling as if he was drawing fire into his lungs.

  “Alhen, calm down; close your eyes and get in a comfortable position. You have to command your body to absorb the energy properly and not let it run rampant in it. If you fail to do this task, you will inevitably turn into a wiht,” Alaran explained from the side.

  Closing his eyes, Alhen did as his mentor told him, struggling to hold the urge to curse at him for not telling him sooner.

  His heartbeat quickened, realizing that he might not survive to see the next cycle.

  In the next second, he pushed away those thoughts and lay on the floor, chest facing up.

  “Imagine the energy running rampant in your body and guide it towards your Luna Signum,” Alaran added from the side.

  He imagined all the heat chaotically traversing through his body, retreating into his Luna Signum, and being absorbed by it.

  The burning began to fade, replaced by a soothing, almost intoxicating feeling that spread throughout his entire body and reached his mind.

  Alhen could feel his mentor talking on the side, but his words didn’t reach him.

  He felt a few minutes had passed before the calming feeling no longer took place on his body.

  He could feel his sign was nourished and stronger than ever.

  Opening his eyes, he found himself in a familiar environment, although not one he was expecting to be in.

  “What am I doing here?” He asked himself.

  His senses slowly returned.

  Alhen heard someone move by his side and felt a touch on his arm.

  He quickly moved it, causing him to wince.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Wince!” Looking at who was touching him, he was not surprised to find none other than one of Father Vincent’s personal nuns.

  Alhen sat on a wooden chair, feeling his body twitch in pain with every movement.

  The infirmary seemed like it had become a second home to him.

  “Why am I here?” He asked, confused about the recent events.

  The nun applied a clear ointment to the wound on his back and bandaged it with care.

  “You were brought here by Sir Alaran,” she simply said.

  He widened his eyes, clearly not expecting a response.

  “I thought you couldn’t talk,” Alhen commented.

  He waited for her response, but after a few seconds, he became aware that it wasn’t going to happen.

  She continued treating his wounds in silence, and he thought about something that made him curious.

  “Why not use the blue liquid you gave me a few days ago? Did it run out?” Alhen asked.

  The nun looked at him; the eye on the veil being the only thing he could see.

  “The ‘Luna Ius’ is not a magical potion. If you consume it more than three times in under seven cycles, you can become insane, have hallucinations, experience extreme pain, and turn into a wiht. Always be cautious,” she advised.

  He sighed. “I understand; thanks for letting me know.”

  Alhen wanted to keep asking questions, but the nun didn’t look like she was in the mood to entertain his query.

  “Creak!” The door to the infirmary opened, and in came Alaran.

  “Good; I was worried for nothing, you seem to be in good condition. It is time to train; follow me.”

  Alaran began walking away, but stopped once he realized that Alhen didn’t move.

  Looking behind him, he saw alhen staring at him with a blank stare.

  “I haven’t recovered yet; I’m still injured,” he said.

  Alaran frowned and approached him with heavy steps before pulling him out of bed, the nun pulling back to avoid getting harmed.

  “Keep thinking and saying stuff like that, and you will never survive on the outside! Stop joking, you have to get in shape if you want to survive for even a second without protection.”

  “Agh! I understand! I understand,” Alhen repeated.

  He squirmed in pain from the burning sensation on his back as he was dragged out of bed.

  His mentor made him stand on his two feet before slapping him on the back.

  “Cough!” Alaran hit him with less force than before, but it still felt as if a hammer had hit him.

  Alaran grabbed Alhen’s axe and jacket, which were found on a wall at the entrance of the infirmary, before leaving.

  “Where are we headed?” he asked.

  Alaran remained silent and kept on walking.

  They eventually reached an area in the church where Alhen had never been before.

  A large dome encapsulated the open space.

  Sand covered the floor, and on the side, multiple weapons stood perched in a chest.

  Multiple suits of armor, straw dummies, and spikes surrounded the arena.

  Alaran glided to the chest and took out Alhen’s weapons before handing them to him.

  “Follow me,” he said, and guided him to the center of the arena.

  “If you manage to hit me once, I will stop being your mentor and consider you apt enough to go hunting on your own,” he challenged.

  “Are you sure?” Alhen asked, and Alaran burst out laughing as if he had heard the funniest thing in the world.

  He immediately felt stupid after asking that question.

  Thinking more deeply, it made sense.

  How could an armless novice beat someone as skilled as his mentor, who had taken down seven wihts in the blink of an eye?

  “Kid, you will not manage to touch me even if you train your entire life,” Alaran mocked before throwing his thuls at him.

  He didn’t need another signal.

  At the mention of those words, Alhen rushed at his mentor, raising his axe and slashing at him.

  Alaran dodged effortlessly the barrage of attacks sent by his mentee, always managing to dodge just enough so he didn’t get hit.

  Alhen kept swinging his weapon, but it didn’t take long before he started tiring due to its weight.

  His movements showed a clear lack of experience.

  They were heavy, slow, unrefined, and lacking technique.

  Alaran made sure to use this to its full advantage and control the flow of training.

  After a few more seconds, his movements had considerably slowed down.

  Alhen gritted his teeth, feeling his anger rising and feigning an axe strike before charging at Alaran, but only managed to be swept and land on the floor.

  Shaking off his disorientation, he grabbed his axe once again, and this time he opted for kicking sand in his mentor’s eyes, but it didn’t work.

  After a disappointing display of combat skills, Alaran shook his head before kicking Alhen’s axe away, grabbing his hair, and kneeing him in the stomach.

  “Gasp!” He landed on the floor and tried to breathe.

  The world spun around him, and in his vision, three mentors stood side by side, watching him with disappointment.

  It was as if a freight train had hit him with full force in the stomach.

  No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t feel it.

  The breath that he desperately yearned for felt like it could never reach his lungs.

  While Alhen struggled to breathe, Alaran circled him.

  “I am very disappointed. I thought that since you are from the Church of Orgurd, you would give me more of a challenge, but it seems that I was mistaken; you have much to learn. Stand up; we are going to start getting your body in shape,” he said.

  Alhen, however, didn’t stand up.

  He clutched his stomach, lying on the ground as he curled up into a ball.

  Alaran tapped his foot repeatedly on the ground, waiting for the moment he made an effort, but that never happened.

  Having no more patience, he grabbed Alhen by the jacket and lifted him into the air, placing him on his feet.

  A minute passed; Alaran’s foot tapping increased, and he lost it.

  “It was just a weak kick to the stomach! What are you complaining about? Get a hold of yourself already!” He shouted as he slapped the back of Alhen’s head, containing himself so history didn’t repeat itself.

  Feeling the slap, he breathed deeply before exhaling the air slowly.

  He repeated this about five times before his body relaxed.

  “I’m sorry, I’m ready for the next step,” he said, sounding better, but not fully recovered.

  “Being sorry doesn’t make you a better hunter. Start running around the arena; I want you to keep running until you faint.” Alhen watched his mentor with a complicated gaze, but with a harsh look from his eyes, he immediately obeyed.

  ‘He can’t be serious… right?’

  He was being serious.

  Alhen began running for who knows how long; no one counted the hours.

  Alhen went from a full run to a jog, to a walk, and now he crawled.

  His legs had failed him a long time ago, and now he dragged his body on the sand under the harsh observation of his mentor.

  Sweat drenched his body and clothes, falling rhythmically into the sand below.

  Alhen used his only hand to move himself forward sluggishly, but after a few seconds, his hand gave up.

  He could only do so much with his non-dominant hand after all.

  His stomach felt empty from how much he had thrown up, which surprised him as he had barely eaten anything.

  No matter what, Alaran always found some way to keep him from stopping, making him push his body to its limits.

  Alhen lay on the ground, unable to twitch a muscle.

  His body ached, and his chest tried to suck air rapidly from how tired he was.

  Now that he had truly run out of energy, his mentor approached him with a slight smile.

  “Passable, you could have done better. I will give you some time to rest, and then we will follow up with lessons on how to use your revolver and axe effectively,” he said

  Alhen couldn’t even utter a word, unable to voice his complaints.

  He watched in silence as his mentor retreated into the distance and began reading a book without a cover.

  Half an hour passed, and Alaran seemed not to have moved a muscle in that time frame except for occasionally moving to pass a page in his book.

  Alhen’s heartbeat slowed down, and the unbearable ache had been reduced enough that he could move.

  For the first time in half an hour, he moved his body, stretching the best he could.

  In the distance, he could see how Alaran closed his book and approached him.

  A bad feeling rose in Alhen’s chest as he saw his mentor closing in with a warm smile.

  ‘Please! I can barely move,’ Alhen prayed in his mind.

  “I see that you are eager to continue training. Let us start right away, then,” his mentor said, causing all hope to be lost within him.

  Alhen’s eyes lost their luster.

  Had he just stayed still as he had been doing, this would have never happened.

  He didn’t have the energy to complain anymore.

  “Grab your revolver; that accuracy that you displayed last cycle made me want to slap you senseless.” Alhen rolled his eyes as he stood, his body trembling like jelly.

  He took out his revolver, weakly gripping it in his hand.

  “Now aim at that dummy over there,” Alaran ordered.

  Alhen aimed his gun, and his mentor corrected him in a heartbeat.

  Alaran showed him the correct way to hold the revolver with one hand and was told to shoot.

  “Bang!” The shot went to the dummy’s shoulder.

  Alaran forced him to shoot all his bullets, correcting him each time he made a mistake.

  “Remember to breathe, do not just stand there.”

  Hearing his mentor’s words, he breathed and exhaled slowly, his shot tearing through the dummy’s head.

  “Good, now press the trigger a little slower; going fast is messing with your aim.” Alaran complimented, but didn’t forget to give out advice.

  Minutes passed.

  His mentor still called him an idiot for missing some shots, but at least now he knew what he was doing.

  Then came the lessons with the axe; only being limited to one hand sucked, but there were things that he could do to get a better handle on it.

  First came blocking, and then attacking.

  The improvement in handling this weapon was minimal.

  Alhen still felt the need to get used to his left hand to improve his technique with the axe.

  His strength without using his luna signum wasn’t enough to handle it yet.

  “Alright, we are done for this cycle. Get something to eat and go rest. Next cycle, you are applying to become an official hunter in ‘The Crying Halberd.’ Every respected hunter has a licence from there; try not to embarrass yourself in the job,” Alaran commented.

  Alhen nodded in understanding before dragging his body inside the church.

  The personnel treated him differently; he could feel it.

  They bowed in his direction and made room for him, never disturbing him or looking at him coldly.

  He started avoiding their eye contact, the sheer weight of all those stares making his skin crawl.

  Being treated like a young master from royalty wasn’t exactly common for him.

  Alhen eventually arrived in the dining room and noticed the lack of people except for an inconspicuous man who waited for him specifically.

  The man personally sat him down and served him a decent-looking soup filled with meat and herbs.

  ‘It’s always soup, I wonder when I will get to eat something else. At least this time it doesn’t smell like feces,’ Alhen thought.

  He tried the food and gagged on it as he struggled to swallow despite it being mostly liquid, but ultimately succeeded and went to his bedroom.

  Father Vincent had prepared a room for himself as he started his life as a hunter.

  The room was bare, save for the blood-red walls that seemed to pulse in the dim light and a bed in the corner.

  When his stiff body landed on the bed, it sank and felt as if clouds were an added material.

  Compared to the mattress from before, this one felt made in heaven.

  He couldn’t help but smile at the feeling; the mattress hugged his body and smelled of cleanliness.

  It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep despite the pain he was in.

  His body was beaten up and had reached its limit a long time ago.

  He slept with a smile on his face, unaware of the upcoming challenges in the next cycle.