Yuno exited the library a few moments later, having learned how to find his artifacts in the database and, if he ever wanted to sell them, how and where he could do so. Old man Rie was very passionate; he went on and on about market valuation, comparable artifacts, and investments. But Yuno had paid attention—to as much as he could make sense of, anyway. All artifacts were listed in a database. Most high-level contract holders collected artifacts from their journeys to the Nether Highway and then put them up for sale. All artifacts were listed in a base, making it easy for anyone to purchase or resell them. Yuno was given an app on his phone that could scan and provide the user with an artifact's name, time of discovery, list of previous owners, current price, and whether anyone had placed a bid for the artifact.
Yuno had scanned the necklace; it seemed like a better option compared to the eye patch. The necklace was found in the Nether Highway, buried under the deserts of Ara for two decades. It was owned by a contract holder who had died during a battle with monsters. The item wasn't worth much—around 200 to 350 dreks. The app also tracked all the artifacts in Yuno's portfolio, which currently included the necklace. The necklace was named the Amulet of Mute. Names were often given either by the original finder or by the built-in AI on the app.
So, the divine court. How does one prepare for this? Yuno thought as he walked back to the castle. That was a bad idea, as he ended up walking for almost an hour. His contract was one of the Hunter; how could he complete the obligation of the Hunter? Well, he was going to ask his court counselor anyway. Wait, do I have to wear a suit or something for this? Yuno thought. He ended up dressing up, worried he might offend the deity he was about to speak with.
"Well, here goes nothing," Yuno exclaimed. With a swoosh of his hand, his room turned to mist, and the sun radiating through his balcony faded.
For the first time, it felt like the summoning would succeed. Yuno had tried to enter the court before—a process akin to summoning his contract—but until now, he had always failed. This time, something was different. As his contract awakened, the world around him unraveled into mist, each breath dissolving reality into a formless void.
From the emptiness, threads of shimmering marble began to coil beneath his feet, converging and locking together with a resonant hum. The ground wasn't simply there—it assembled itself, one piece at a time, tessellating into a vast circular slab, as if unseen hands were constructing a cosmic puzzle just for him.
Beyond the rim, six grand staircases pushed out from the circle, their steps sculpted from pale stone that seemed to draw light from thin air. The stairs spiraled upward, endlessly ascending into a space so immense it defied the limits of sight. As the structure grew, more details emerged: thick wooden stands materialized from swirling dust, each rail and beam slotting into place and fusing with a chestnut glow. Majestic chairs appeared atop them, carved with glyphs that pulsed as if breathing.
Yuno stood at the heart of an infinite stadium, billions of phantom seats rippling outward and upward, each row forming as if the court itself had been summoned from nothing by his presence. For a moment, he alone witnessed the birth of this awe-inspiring domain—a realm conjured from void and will, woven together as his contract claimed him at last.
"State your name and obligation," spoke a voice. It echoed from every corner of the palatial court. Yuno couldn't tell where the demand came from; he took a step back and glanced hurriedly behind him.
"Up," said the voice again, apathetically.
Yuno looked up—not all the way, just upward in front of him. An entity larger than existence hovered there, wearing a purple cloak; only its chest upwards was visible, the rest of its body fading into the chairs below. The entity's arms surrounded the court. Yuno, in awe, forgot the question asked by the figure. Stumbling back, he looked as the figure's eyes—mostly hidden by the hood of the cloak—stared back at him.
"Ah, um... ah, Yuno. Contract of the Hunter," said Yuno in an unsure tone.
"Yuno of the Hunter's contract, the court grants you the right to speak your demands," spoke the figure, its voice echoing.
Yuno, still taken aback by everything, stumbled over his words. "Ah, I would like to request clarification of the benefit clause of my contract."
"The court accepts your request.
Thou art bestowed with the gift of heightened sense—marked as predator, adept in the art of pursuit. All faculties are thine to wield, each attuned to discern thy quarry in shadow and in silence. By right of covenant, the blade—thy Anki—may grow vast and executioner's sure, sundering foe and fate with but a single stroke. The silence of the stalker is thy mantle; upon this floor, thy footfall causeth no stir, and thy presence is veiled from mortal reckoning. None shall divine thy approach, save for the instant wherein thou deign'st to stand revealed, manifest before trembling eyes.
So is this decree spoken, and so shall thy power be known."
To the average person, the court's use of vocabulary might have felt foreign, but the court counselor uses the language that is best suited for the listener. The almost cryptic, riddle-like words of the looming figure were the same ones used by Yuno's father when he ruled over the nation of Orion. So, he was essentially an assassin; Ane was right—his footsteps would make no noise, and his presence was impossible to perceive. He also figured he could change the size of his Anki as he had done before. But now, he confirmed that he could change its size to ensure the attack killed his enemy in one blow. That was good to know. Lost in thought, Yuno remembered he should ask another question.
"Can you explain clause 2, the obligation to complete?" asked Yuno.
"The court denies your request," responded the figure, its voice reflecting off the infinite seats.
"What? Why? Ah, how about—um, ah—can you lessen the severity of my heightened senses?" stuttered Yuno in a moment of disbelief. Why couldn't they explain the demand of the contract itself?
"The court denies your request," responded the looming figure.
"The court dismisses your presence," added the cloaked entity.
"Wait, wai—no, one second… waii!" screamed Yuno as the world around him unraveled and mist returned, bringing him back to his room. The wooden seats and concrete stairs reversed their formation, fading into the dark void; the sunshine returned, leaving Yuno on his back. He lay there, cursing at the deity, flustered at the fact that he was kicked out so quickly.
He scrunched his brows and let out a massive sigh, sweating in his suit. The door burst open as Yuno lay on the ground, dumbfounded. Asmir and Yuno locked eyes, both questioning what they were seeing. Asmir burst out laughing, seeing the sight of his friend.
"Did you seriously go to the court in a suit?" mocked Asmir, hysterically laughing.
"Well, uh, yeah—I mean, it's still a court," protested Yuno.
"You think the people that gain a contract at the borders have suits? You can't appease a god with your attire," laughed Asmir.
"Anyway, I broke your door because I thought you were dying. Why did you scream?" asked Asmir.
"The fucker kicked me out mid-question," said Yuno angrily.
"What?"
"Yeah, I asked a question, and he was like, 'The court denies your request,'" mocked Yuno.
The two laughed about the matter, with Asmir crying and rolling on the floor. As their laughter faded, so did the day; the two were informed that they would be heading back into the border to check on the sense of the ants with Captain Hiro and write up a report. Yuno was excited to get back to the fields; he wanted to see more of what he could do, what it meant to be a hunter.