The forge burned again that night.
Its flames flickered low but steady, bathing the walls in a warm orange glow. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and oil — the scent of memory. Hunnt sat near the anvil, the sound of crackling fire echoing softly behind him.
Outside, the village was quiet. Most of the villagers had fallen asleep, exhausted from the long day of preparing for departure. A few lanterns swayed in the wind, their faint light painting shadows across the ruined houses.
Alder arrived not long after, his steps slow but certain. He was still wrapped in light bandages, though his movements carried more strength now. When he stepped into the forge, he paused briefly at the door, letting the warmth chase away the chill of the night air.
Hunnt didn't look up right away. He simply said, "Close the door. We'll talk here."
Alder nodded, shutting the door behind him. "You said tonight," he said quietly. "That you'd tell me everything about this 'Eternal Wanderer.'"
Hunnt turned then, his eyes reflecting the firelight. "And so I will. Sit."
Alder took a seat on a low bench opposite him, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm listening."
Hunnt stared into the fire for a long moment before speaking. "The Eternal Wanderer isn't a guild, Alder. It isn't an organization that recruits or demands loyalty. It's a path — one that recognizes those who already live by it."
He looked up, voice firm but calm. "Our philosophy is simple. We don't recruit; we recognize. Those who walk this path are found, not invited. We seek only those willing to fight and die for others — without reward, without recognition."
Alder nodded slowly. "So it's not about fame."
Hunnt's lips twitched in a faint smirk. "Fame is fleeting. Will is eternal."
He leaned forward slightly. "You proved yourself the moment you defied the Guild's creed — the Four N's. No Quest, No Reward, No Recognition, No Volunteers. You moved before the order came. That's what the Wanderer stands for — motion without command."
Alder chuckled softly. "Guess I've been walking that path without knowing."
Hunnt nodded. "That's how we find each other."
The fire crackled again, and Hunnt's voice lowered. "When someone has proven themselves, we bring them into the fold through an induction ritual. We call it 'The Fire and the Mark.' It's simple, but meaningful. You stand before the flame and take the Drifter's Oath — not to me, not to the group, but to the path itself."
Alder straightened, his tone quieting. "And the oath?"
Hunnt's voice became steady — low but resonant, carrying the weight of something ancient.
"I walk the path unseen.
I fight not for glory, nor for gold, but for those who cannot fight for themselves.
I stand with the Eternal Wanderer — silent, steadfast, unbroken.
The world is wide, the hunt endless, yet my resolve knows no master.
In shadow I move, in light I protect.
I am a Drifter."
When he finished, silence filled the forge. The only sound was the soft hum of burning coal.
Hunnt looked at Alder. "If you mean it — repeat it. Not for me. For yourself."
Alder hesitated, then placed his right hand over his chest and repeated the words slowly. His voice trembled at first, but grew stronger with each line.
When the last words left his lips — "I am a Drifter." — Hunnt gave a small nod. "Then you've already taken your first step."
Alder lowered his hand, the weight of the moment sinking in. "That's it? No ceremony? No mark?"
Hunnt smiled faintly. "The fire heard you. That's enough. The mark comes later."
He gestured toward the forge wall, where faint light revealed a symbol carved into stone — a black circle enclosing a triangle, and within it, a small clenched fist.
"The Eternal Mark," Hunnt said quietly. "The world. Growth. Will. And the journey between them."
Alder studied it, eyes narrowing slightly. "You all carry this?"
Hunnt nodded. "In different ways. Some carve it into weapons, some stitch it into their gear. It's never public. It's a sign recognized only by those who walk the same path. If a Drifter sees this mark, they'll know — without words."
Alder's gaze softened. "I see."
Hunnt stood and stretched, then reached for a steel rod to stir the forge. Sparks danced upward, scattering like fireflies. "There's more you need to understand before you take the title."
"I'm listening."
"The Eternal Wanderer teaches techniques long forgotten by the Guild," Hunnt said. "They're called Rokushiki — the Six Paths of the Body."
He began listing them slowly, his movements illustrating each one.
"Soru — the Shave. Instant motion between spaces.
Tekkai — Iron Body. The will to stand unbroken.
Kami-e — Feather Form. The flow that turns force into air.
Geppo — Skywalk. The leap that defies gravity.
Rankyaku — Wind Strike. The kick that cuts through silence.
Shigan — Finger Cannon. A strike faster than thought."
Alder's eyes widened slightly. "You've mastered all six?"
Hunnt nodded. "They're tools — but they mean nothing without purpose. Every Wanderer learns them all. But the body alone isn't enough. That's where Haki comes in."
He raised his hand, closing it into a fist. "Haki — the Spirit's Will made real. It has many forms, but we teach only two."
Alder leaned forward, intent.
"Observation Haki — sensing presence, emotion, and intent. It lets you see beyond sight."
Hunnt opened his other hand, palm glowing faintly with warmth.
"Armament Haki — the armor of will. It strengthens body and strike alike. But both drain stamina. That's why we train our foundations before power. Strength without control is useless."
Alder exhaled softly. "So, only one can be chosen?"
Hunnt nodded. "Exactly. Every Wanderer may learn all Rokushiki, but only one Haki. You either walk the path of intuition… or the path of defense."
He paused, eyes serious. "That's our rule — the law of balance. Power means nothing if it burns the one who wields it."
Alder nodded slowly, absorbing every word.
Hunnt continued, voice calm but firm. "There's another rule, Alder. The Wanderer doesn't kill every monster they see. Not every hunt demands blood. We act only against beasts that endanger lives, destroy homes, or disturb the balance of the land. Mercy is part of the creed. That's what separates us from the Guild."
Alder smiled faintly. "Guess that explains you."
Hunnt shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I just got tired of unnecessary killing."
He leaned against the forge, eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. "Our members walk many roles. Hunters like us are Drifters — the ones who face monsters head-on. Others serve differently — scouts, artisans, scholars, healers. Each keeps the path alive."
He turned slightly toward Alder. "You'll be a Drifter — an active hunter who walks his own road. But sometimes, we also have Scouts — Wanderers who travel ahead, finding threats before they grow, and villages before they fall."
Alder nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Scouts… sounds fitting. Maybe I'll try both."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "That's what the Path allows — choice."
He crossed his arms. "Above us are the Elders. They oversee the balance and discipline of the Eternal. There are few of them — Kael and myself for now."
Alder blinked. "You're one of the Elders?"
Hunnt's expression didn't change. "It's a role I play. The founder remains unnamed."
Alder's smile widened knowingly. "And let me guess — the founder's a quiet guy with cracked gauntlets and too many secrets?"
Hunnt chuckled under his breath. "Maybe."
Alder laughed softly, shaking his head. "You really don't like titles, huh?"
"Titles make noise," Hunnt said. "We move in silence."
The two men stood by the fire, the forge's flame painting their silhouettes against the walls. Hunnt picked up a small piece of tempered steel and pressed it into Alder's hand. On its surface, faintly etched, was the symbol of the Eternal — the circle, the triangle, the fist.
Alder looked down at it, then back at Hunnt. "So this is my mark?"
Hunnt nodded. "Your beginning. Keep it hidden. Let your actions speak louder than it ever will."
Alder gripped it tightly. "Then I'll walk the path."
Hunnt smiled faintly, the flame reflecting in his eyes. "Then welcome, Drifter Alder. From this night on — you are one of us."
The forge crackled again, the light swelling briefly, as if answering their vow.
Outside, the wind shifted.
The world moved quietly forward.
The Eternal Wanderer had found another flame.