Dawn broke over the city like a blade slicing the horizon.
The sky blazed with streaks of orange and crimson, light spilling across the floating spires and bridges of Driath's capital. For most, it was just another day.
For Haruki Aoi, it was the first morning he woke not as a patient or a prisoner but as a Hunter.
At least, that's what the council said.
His escort was silent as they led him through the labyrinthine streets toward the Initiate Barracks. Kana walked at his side, arms folded, eyes darting suspiciously at every guard they passed. The weight of last night's trial still clung to her shoulders.
Haruki tried to focus on the sights around him. The city was alive floating platforms thrummed with arcane energy, shopkeepers barked out prices from stalls lining the bridges, and Hunters in uniform strode with purpose, weapons strapped across their backs. Every so often, someone glanced at Haruki. Some with awe. More with fear.
Whispers trailed behind him.
"That's the one who broke the chains."
"Looks normal enough."
"Normal? Chains don't snap like twigs. He's cursed."
Haruki kept his head down, jaw tight. His gauntlets were hidden beneath wrappings, but he could feel them pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat under his skin.
"Don't listen to them," Kana muttered, elbowing him lightly. "They don't know you. Not like I do."
He forced a small smirk. "That's the problem. You know me too well."
Kana rolled her eyes. "And still haven't run away. That should tell you something."
The barracks loomed ahead a massive structure carved into the side of a floating plateau, its walls etched with glowing runes. The gates opened with a low groan, revealing a courtyard bustling with trainees.
Some sparred with wooden weapons, others jogged laps under the watchful eyes of instructors. The air rang with the clash of steel and the bark of commands.
As Haruki and Kana stepped inside, silence rippled outward like a stone tossed into water. Dozens of eyes turned toward him. Some widened, others narrowed. The whispers began again.
"That's him…"
"The chain-breaker."
"Shouldn't he be locked up?"
An instructor with a scarred jaw strode forward, eyes sharp. He bowed slightly to the escort, then faced Haruki.
"So. You're the Arbiter's special project." His voice carried no warmth, only the steel of discipline. "Name?"
"Haruki Aoi."
The instructor's gaze flicked over him, lingering on the wrappings around his arms. "Hnh. You don't look like much. But then again, neither did most corpses before they fell."
The trainees snickered, tension breaking into cruel amusement. Kana's hand twitched toward her bow, but Haruki raised a hand slightly, stopping her.
The instructor's lips curled. "Relax, girl if he can't handle a few words, he won't last a week here. The abyss doesn't care about your feelings."
Haruki met the man's stare evenly. "Good thing I'm not here to be liked. I'm here to prove I belong."
The courtyard fell quiet again. The instructor's eyes narrowed then, slowly, a smile cracked his face.
"Fine. Let's see if you survive the morning drills first. Welcome to the barracks, Initiate Aoi. Don't disappoint me."
Haruki exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. The whispers didn't stop, but for the first time since the trial, he felt something shift.
Not acceptance. Not trust.
But the first step toward both.
The barracks' training yard smelled of sweat, steel, and scorched stone. Rows of trainees stood shoulder to shoulder, dressed in light combat gear. The instructor with the scarred jaw stalked before them like a predator pacing its cage, his boots striking hard against the ground.
Haruki and Kana found themselves pushed into the line. Whispers spread like fire some mocking, some wary.
"Let's see what the chain-breaker's made of."
"He won't last ten minutes."
"Bet he collapses before the first bell."
"Silence!" the instructor barked, and the yard fell quiet. His eyes scanned the line, then settled briefly on Haruki. "Today, we start simple. Drills. A Hunter who can't keep pace is a liability. And liabilities die first."
He raised a whistle to his lips. The shrill note pierced the morning air.
"Run!"
The line surged forward. Boots thundered against the ground, and the trainees shot into a grueling circuit that looped the entire courtyard. Haruki pushed his legs into motion, Kana matching stride beside him. The pace was brutal, meant to break spirits before it built endurance.
By the second lap, sweat poured down his neck. His lungs burned, each breath jagged. The gauntlets thrummed faintly beneath their wrappings, but they offered no help this wasn't a battle. This was survival through sheer stamina.
Trainees began to stagger. One collapsed to his knees, gasping. Another cursed and dropped out. The instructor's voice lashed the air: "Weakness is death! Fall behind, and you're already corpses!"
Haruki gritted his teeth and kept running. Memories flashed—the sterile white halls of the hospital, the suffocating darkness of the trial chamber, the crushing weight of chains around his arms. He wasn't going back to any of that. Not again.
By the fourth lap, most of the line had thinned. Only a dozen still ran. Kana's breathing was ragged, but her eyes were fierce, locked ahead. Haruki forced his body to keep pace with hers.
Finally, the whistle blew. "Enough!"
The survivors staggered to a halt, chests heaving, sweat soaking their uniforms. The instructor paced before them again, gaze sharp.
"Better than I expected," he muttered. His eyes landed on Haruki. "But running proves nothing. Hunters fight, and you'll learn to fight now."
He snapped his fingers. Assistants wheeled out racks of wooden weapons swords, spears, staves. The instructor gestured. "Choose. Then pair up."
Haruki reached for a wooden short sword. The weight was unfamiliar, but solid in his hand. He turned and found a trainee already waiting, smirking.
The boy was taller, broad-shouldered, a jagged scar cutting across his chin. He twirled a wooden spear like it was part of his arm. "So, you're the one who broke chains. Let's see if you can break me."
Kana bristled. "Pick someone else"
"No," Haruki interrupted softly. His grip tightened on the sword. "I'll take him."
The trainee's smirk widened. The circle cleared around them, whispers rising again.
The instructor folded his arms. "Good. Show me if the Arbiter's gamble was worth it."
The whistle blew again.
Haruki's opponent lunged.
The circle of trainees widened, every eye locked on the clash about to unfold. Haruki adjusted his stance, sword raised with both hands. His opponent, the spear-wielding boy, smirked like a predator toying with prey.
The whistle's echo had barely faded before the spear shot forward. A blur of wood aimed for Haruki's chest.
Instinct screamed move!
He twisted, the strike grazing past his ribs. A sting, but not a crippling one. He barely reset before the spear swept sideways in a vicious arc. Haruki ducked low, boots skidding across the dirt. The crowd gasped.
The boy laughed. "Quick reflexes. Let's see how long they last!"
Another thrust fast, relentless. Haruki parried with his wooden blade, but the impact rattled through his arms. The spear had reach and leverage; every strike forced him back. He gritted his teeth, blocking, deflecting, barely keeping the tip from piercing his guard.
"You're not fighting to win," the instructor's voice cut through the chaos, calm yet sharp. "You're fighting not to lose. That's weakness."
The words sank into Haruki like a blade. Not to lose…
The next thrust came, and instead of retreating, Haruki surged forward. The spear's tip whistled past his ear as he crashed into the boy's guard. His wooden sword slammed against the shaft, pushing it aside.
The smirk on the boy's face flickered.
Haruki pressed the advantage, swinging quick, sharp strikes one, two, three. The boy blocked with his spear's length, but the rhythm broke. Haruki's attacks weren't elegant, but they were relentless, a storm of strikes that forced his opponent back.
"Better," the instructor muttered.
But the spear boy wasn't finished. With a grunt, he spun the weapon in a wide arc, knocking Haruki's blade off-line, then drove the butt of the spear toward Haruki's stomach.
Impact exploded in his gut. Air fled his lungs, and he staggered, knees buckling. Pain seared, sharp and brutal.
The boy grinned, raising the spear high for a finishing strike. "Weak after all."
No…
The gauntlets beneath Haruki's wrappings pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat answering his resolve. His grip tightened on the wooden sword.
As the spear descended, Haruki rolled sideways, the strike smashing into dirt where he'd stood. He came up low, sword arcing in a desperate slash. The wood cracked against the boy's shin.
The boy yelped, stumbling. His balance broke.
Haruki didn't hesitate. He surged forward, slamming his shoulder into the trainee's chest, knocking him to the ground. The wooden sword pressed to his opponent's throat before the boy could recover.
The yard went silent.
The instructor raised his hand. "Match!"
Haruki panted, sweat dripping, body trembling. But his eyes burned not with exhaustion, but with fire.
The spear boy lay on his back, glaring, then chuckled bitterly. "Not bad, chain-breaker. Not bad at all."
Some trainees murmured, surprised. Others looked at Haruki with new respect or envy. Kana's grin stretched ear to ear, pride shining in her eyes.
The instructor stepped forward, his shadow falling over Haruki. "You lack training. You lack control. But you have one thing most of these brats don't…" His lips curled into a faint smirk. "Instinct. And instinct can be sharpened."
He turned away. "Next pair!"
The crowd dispersed, but the whispers stayed. For the first time, Haruki wasn't invisible in the yard.
The sparring matches ended one by one, the whistle blowing sharp to signal each victor or defeat. The instructor's sharp gaze never softened, but when the last fight was done, he barked a new command.
"Form squads! Four to a unit. Hunters don't survive by glory alone. They survive by the person at their side."
The trainees shuffled uncertainly, gravitating toward friends or those who looked strongest. Kana grabbed Haruki's arm without hesitation, pulling him into her squad. Two others joined them—a wiry boy with sharp eyes named Jinto, and a heavyset trainee called Ren with arms like tree trunks.
The instructor stalked past, eyeing each group. "You'll learn the first law of formations. The Spear, the Shield, the Healer, the Striker. Each has their role. Fail your role, and the whole team falls."
He gestured, and assistants rolled out a set of training dummies. They weren't ordinary each bore faint inscriptions, glowing faintly with runic light. The air hummed with mana.
"These are Banting constructs. They'll move, strike, and crush you like the real thing. Your goal is to last one bell. Survive together or fail together."
The whistle shrieked.
The dummies sprang to life.
Wooden arms swung with brutal force, glowing with faint arcs of energy. Jinto, quick as lightning, darted forward with a training dagger. His strikes glanced harmlessly off the construct's reinforced chest.
Ren roared, charging like a bull. He raised a wooden shield in both hands, absorbing the dummy's blow, but the impact drove him back two steps.
Kana raised her hands, faint threads of light weaving between her fingers her healer's blessing strengthening Ren's stance.
Haruki watched it all, heart pounding. Spear. Shield. Healer. Striker. His role was obvious. His grip tightened on the wooden sword.
He lunged. The blade cracked across the dummy's arm, staggering it for half a second. Jinto slipped under its swing, stabbing the back of its knee. Ren pushed forward with his shield, driving the construct off balance.
For a moment, they moved like a unit.
But then the second dummy activated.
Its strike came from behind Jinto cried out as the blow clipped his shoulder, sending him sprawling. Kana shrieked, scrambling to channel her healing light.
Haruki spun, blocking the next strike with his sword, but the force rattled his arms. He grit his teeth, muscles screaming. "Ren! Hold the first one! Kana, cover Jinto!"
The words came without thinking. Orders, sharp and fast.
Ren grunted, locking his shield against the first dummy. Kana knelt, pressing glowing hands to Jinto's shoulder. Haruki stepped into the second construct's path, breathing hard, sword raised high.
The dummy's strike descended. Haruki roared, swinging up with all his strength. Wood clashed against enchanted wood—the crack resounded through the yard. For an instant, the construct faltered.
"Now, Jinto!" Haruki barked.
The wiry boy, healed just enough, rolled to his feet and slashed the dummy's leg joint. It buckled, staggering sideways into Ren's shield. With a grunt, Ren shoved it to the ground.
The bell rang.
Silence fell across the yard.
The instructor's boots clicked as he approached, eyes scanning the four of them. His gaze lingered on Haruki, unreadable.
"Sloppy. Untrained. But you didn't fall apart. You remembered the law." His voice dropped, almost approving. "Hunters move as one."
He turned sharply. "Next squad!"
Kana let out a long breath, sweat streaking her brow. "We survived," she whispered, grinning faintly.
Haruki exhaled, lowering his sword. His arms trembled, but his heart burned with fire. This was only the beginning.
The training yard emptied as the sun bled orange across the sky. Most of the trainees limped away, muttering complaints or boasts. The barracks echoed with the shuffle of boots and the hiss of tired breath.
Haruki dropped onto a bench at the edge of the yard, wooden sword across his knees. His shirt clung to his skin, every muscle in his body screaming. He'd never pushed himself this far—not in the hospital, not in the Binding Trial, not even against the spear trainee.
Kana collapsed beside him with a groan, throwing her head back. "I think my bones have bones that ache. Do Hunters actually survive this long enough to become A-Rank?"
Haruki smirked faintly. "If they do, it's because they're too stubborn to die."
Her laugh bubbled out, tired but real. For a moment, the weight of the day lightened.
Across the yard, Ren was leaning on his shield like a crutch, while Jinto tightened the bandages Kana had given him. The wiry boy caught Haruki's gaze, gave a short nod not friendly, not hostile. A soldier's respect.
Haruki returned it.
The whistle of the instructor's boots cut through the quiet. He passed by the benches, stopping just long enough to glance at Haruki. His scarred jaw shifted as though he were weighing something unsaid. Then he moved on, disappearing into the shadows of the barracks.
Kana nudged Haruki. "He saw it, you know."
"Saw what?"
"That thing you do. You don't fight for yourself. You fight like you're… holding the whole squad together. Like you've done it before."
Haruki stared down at his hands, the faint pulse of the gauntlets hidden beneath the wrappings. Holding the squad together? In his world, he'd never had one only silence. Only the sound of machines.
The thought made his chest ache.
Then ding!
A translucent screen blinked into existence before his eyes.
[System Notice!]
+ 3 Leadership Points gained.
+ Passive Skill unlocked: "Instinctive Command."
Effect: Squad members near you gain +5% reaction speed when following your lead.
Haruki blinked. "...What?"
Kana leaned closer, curious. "System stuff again?"
Before he could answer, the screen flickered. Lines of code scrambled across it, glitching, static hissing in his ears.
ERROR_0039: Unauthorized parameter detected.
Instinctive Command… evolving.
Then it shifted.
Skill Upgraded!
New Passive: "Echo Leader."
Effect: Actions you take imprint faintly on allies' instincts, allowing them to mirror your movements unconsciously.
Haruki's stomach flipped. That's not normal. Skills don't just… upgrade on their own.
The screen snapped shut as quickly as it appeared, leaving only silence and the fading pulse of the gauntlets.
Kana caught the shadow in his expression but didn't press. Instead, she leaned back, sighing. "Whatever it is, keep it. I'll take all the help I can get."
Haruki managed a faint smile. "You'll get it."
As the barracks bells tolled curfew, the two of them rose, dragging their exhausted bodies toward the dormitories. Around them, the whispers of the day still lingered:
Chain-breaker.
Instinct.
Leader.
Haruki's heart beat with equal parts fear and determination.
He had only just begun to walk this path and already, the System was changing around him.