Kael Draven's hands were raw, his legs stiff, and his pride bruised, but nothing could stop him.
Three years had passed since the Nightfang attack that destroyed Blackmere. At eleven, Kael had joined a minor guild in a nearby town, just far enough from the capital to avoid S-rank scrutiny. The guild welcomed him with a mixture of pity and suspicion—C-rank hunters weren't supposed to be reckless prodigies; they were supposed to survive.
"Kael, listen!" barked his instructor, a grizzled D-rank hunter named Varek, as they stood before a training field littered with wooden dummies. "You can't just charge into every fight like a madman! Strategy! Patience! Precision!"
Kael's dark eyes burned with defiance. "I will fight the monsters head-on! That's how you survive when the real thing comes!"
Varek groaned, rubbing his temples. "Kid, you have heart, I'll give you that—but heart alone won't save you when the Nightgates open. You'll get yourself killed before you even see S-rank!"
Kael didn't care. Heart and determination were all he had, and the memory of Blackmere haunted him daily. Every scratch on his arms, every bruise on his legs, reminded him of that night. He swore he would never be powerless again.
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First Real Hunt
At thirteen, Kael was finally allowed on his first real hunt: a small pack of Cinderclaw Wolves, weaker than Nightfangs but still dangerous for untrained hunters.
The mission was simple: locate the wolves near the forest edge, drive them away, and return safely. Most of the C-rank hunters were cautious, advancing slowly.
Not Kael. He sprinted ahead, ignoring calls from his team. He leaped into the fray, sword swinging, catching two wolves off guard. But as the third wolf lunged from the shadows, Kael barely dodged—it left a deep gash across his shoulder.
The other hunters finally caught up, helping him finish the pack. Kael stood there, panting, blood dripping down his arm, but smiling fiercely.
"You see, Varek?" he shouted proudly. "I can do this!"
Varek shook his head, half-exasperated, half-impressed. "Yeah… and one day, that same recklessness will kill you. Just don't let it be today."
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The Spark of Reputation
From that day, Kael earned his first nickname among the guild: "Gravechaser". C-rank hunters either admired him for his courage or whispered about how foolish he was. But Kael didn't care about the whispers—he only cared about one thing: getting stronger, faster, better.
Every monster he fought, every scar he earned, brought him one step closer to the promise he had made to his father: he would become an S-rank hunter.
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