The lobby of the World Hunter Guild shimmered with polished marble and golden light. Crystalline chandeliers hung from above, casting perfect reflections on the flawless floor. Statues of renowned hunters lined the grand entrance, weapons raised in eternal triumph. Their names were etched into obsidian plaques names Leon did not recognize.
His footsteps made no sound as he entered.
No one spared him a glance. Hunters in pristine armor passed by, laughing, boasting of raids and contracts. Recruits lined up at the registration hall, eyes bright with ambition. None of them knew the man walking among them had once stood at the top of this very place.
Leon's gaze drifted to the Wall of Valor, a towering mural that told the Guild's history through etched steel panels and moving illusions. Battles were depicted ones he had fought, won, and bled for. But the faces had changed. His was missing.
In one scene, a calamity class beast fell to a group of hunters. Leon remembered that fight. He remembered delivering the final blow.
Now, a man he barely recognized stood in his place on the mural, arms raised in victory.
A lie.
He clenched his jaw. Shadows stirred at his feet, drawn to his anger, but he willed them back. This wasn't the time.
He moved to the Hall of Heroes, where busts and statues immortalized the Guild's greatest. There it was his name, Leon Ashbourne, carved beneath a crumbling bust shoved to the back corner, half-covered by a banner announcing a new generation of elites.
Beneath his name:
"Fallen in duty. Honored in silence."
Silence. That was what they had given him.
He stepped closer. The stone face was cracked, eyes hollow, lips grim. It looked nothing like him.
"What a joke," Leon whispered.
"Can I help you?" A voice broke the stillness.
He turned. A guild staffer stood at the doorway, clipboard in hand. She didn't recognize him.
"No," he said calmly, stepping away. "Just… paying respects."
She nodded absently and walked off.
Leon lingered for a moment longer, looking at the broken statue, the false history, the glorified traitors.
Then he turned and walked out, shadows following like loyal hounds.
The world had replaced him with fakes. It gave glory to cowards and silence to the forgotten.
That would change soon.