Winter had settled over Kolma like a soft white cloak.

Snow rested thick upon the rooftops, curling along chimney edges and clinging to the wooden beams of homes that had weathered generations. Smoke rose lazily into the pale dawn sky, thin columns twisting in the frigid air.

The town was quiet—half-asleep beneath the hush of winter—only the distant crackle of hearth fires and the faint creak of frost-covered shutters breaking the silence.

The sun had just begun to rise.

Golden light spilled over the eastern hills, catching on the frozen branches of apple trees and making them glitter as though dusted in crushed diamonds. Footprints from the early bakers and farmers had already marked the snow in uneven patterns, but most doors remained closed.

Except one door suddenly burst open.

"Bye, Mom! Wish me luck!"

The shout cut cleanly through the cold morning air.

Teclos barely waited for a reply before rushing down the wooden steps of his home. The door closed behind him with a thud as he tightened his scarf around his neck and adjusted the leather straps across his chest.

His boots hit the snow.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Each hurried step carved deep impressions into the untouched path as he ran, his breath puffing visibly before him in quick white bursts of mist.

Half a year had passed.

Half a year since the coming-of-age ceremony.

He was fifteen years old now and on his way to his new future.

Today—finally—was the most anticipated hunter examination, which was held only once a year.

His heartbeat was faster than his running pace.

He cut through the main road, passing shuttered stalls and frost-covered signboards. A few townsfolk glanced at him from windows, recognizing the familiar determined sprint. Somewhere, a dog barked once as if greeting him.

As he turned the final corner, the guild hall came into view.

Its heavy wooden doors were framed in frost, the guild crest carved proudly above the entrance. Lanterns still burned faintly beside it, though daylight was steadily overtaking them.

And there they were.

Ralph and Gillard stood at the base of the steps, bundled in winter coats, arms crossed against the cold.

Ralph spotted him first.

"Do you have to be late every damn time?" he called out.

Gillard exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "We almost went ahead without you, man."

Teclos slowed to a jog, flashing them a grin as he approached.

"I know, I know. Sorry, guys." He adjusted his scarf theatrically. "But the main character is always fashionably late."

Ralph stared at him flatly.

"Fashionably late?" he repeated. "What kind of clown crowned you the protagonist?"

Gillard snorted, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh.

Teclos shrugged. "Self-appointed. Very prestigious title."

Ralph muttered something about delusions as the three of them climbed the steps together, boots thudding against frozen wood.

They entered the guild hall mid-bicker, the warm air inside hitting their faces like a comforting wall. The scent of parchment, ink, and faintly burning oil lamps replaced the sharp and fresh air of winter.

The hall was already partially filled.

Several familiar faces stood near the reception counter—"new" adults like themselves.

Loric was there, arms folded, posture rigid as ever. Beside him stood one of his usual companions, equally sour-faced. Eldric leaned casually against a pillar, speaking quietly with Samara, who looked more bored than nervous.

All in all—ten applicants, it seemed.

Ten besides the three of them.

Thirteen youths seeking to become hunters.

The reactions upon noticing Teclos, Ralph, and Gillard were mixed.

Loric’s expression soured instantly, lips pressing thin.

His friend mirrored the disdain.

Others spared only brief glances before returning their attention to whatever they were doing previously. The pressure of today overrode most of the petty rivalries.

This was not the usual training ground competition.

This was the gate to a new, prestigious life in Kolma.

As the trio approached the reception counter, the guild receptionist—a middle-aged woman with sharp features and light brown hair—looked up.

"Teclos, Ralph, and Gillard," Ralph announced their names.

Without further ceremony, she pulled three parchments from a stack and slid them across the polished wood.

"Read and sign."

Teclos picked his up.

The parchment was thick and had an official feel to it. He thought it smelled of a new and glorious life waiting for him... and ink.

It detailed the conditions of the hunter examination:

— Applicants must obey all instructor commands during testing.

— Injury sustained during examination absolves guild hunters of liability.

— Exception: liability applies if injury results from direct misconduct or faulty instruction by supervising hunters.

— Applicants acknowledge risk of physical harm.

Teclos’ eyes narrowed slightly as he read more carefully.

The wording was old-fashioned.

Broad in some areas.

Vague in others.

There were... gaps.

Liability clauses dependent on proving misconduct. Definitions left open to interpretation. Responsibility loosely structured.

He could already see potential loopholes... not that he intended to exploit them, of course... but they were there.

Ralph leaned closer. "You reading it like it’s a royal decree?"

"Just appreciating the craftsmanship," Teclos murmured.

Gillard skimmed his quickly and signed without hesitation.

Ralph followed, scrawling his name boldly.

Teclos hesitated only a second longer before signing as well.

He placed the quill down carefully.

The receptionist collected the parchments and stacked them neatly.

"You will be briefed shortly," she said. "Wait here near the center."

The thirteen applicants moved inward, forming a loose cluster.

The guild hall felt different today for most of the staff and the hunters.

This wasn’t merely a warm welcome to the rookies.

But they would finally get a much needed help. New hunters for the guild—new comrades, new staff, and helping hands.

The waiting did not last long.

From the upper offices at the rear of the guild hall, heavy boots thudded against the stairs. Four figures descended together, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere of the room.

They represented what would be the youths’ future selves.

Their gait showed experience from life-and-death situations and discipline.

The first voice to break the silence belonged to Darnel.

"God damn! Why do I have to babysit them?" he barked, scratching at the back of his neck. "I could’ve stayed home today!"

Immediately dispelling any magic the trainees felt at the start.

Sera, walking beside him, didn’t even glance his way at first.

"Relax, you small-brained baby," she replied coolly. "Throwing tantrums around isn’t going to get you anywhere with the master."

Darnel stopped mid-step.

"What did you say, you cow-tits bimbo?"

The air suddenly felt very hot around them.

Teclos felt it immediately—the pressure... scorching hot mana.

Sera’s mana flared outward—hot, sharp, aggressive. The warmth in the guild hall spiked unnaturally, like standing too close to a furnace in the smithy.

Darnel didn’t back down, though.

Instead, his own aura erupted in response. Cold moisture gathered in the air, faint droplets forming and freezing at the edges of nearby tables.

The temperature warred between heat and cold.

The trainees stiffened.

Even Ralph’s grin vanished.

Ulmak stepped between them with an exhausted sigh.

"Relax already," he said. "You can fight it out outside. Besides, you’re scaring the kids."

Darnel snorted.

"If they get scared by this much, they ain’t fit for hunting."

Sera shot him one more glare—slowly judging him, and dangerous—before retracting her mana. The heat dissipated.

But her expression did not soften—quite the opposite, it turned sinister. There was no doubt she was thinking of revenge.

Teclos noticed Ulmak notice it too.

Ulmak merely thought, ’Good luck, Darnel,’ and walked forward.

The four hunters stopped before the applicants.

Ulmak stepped ahead of the others.

"Welcome to the hunter exam," he began calmly. "First, I would like to introduce your instructors for today."

He gestured to himself.

"I am Ulmak. A fire mage. I’ve completed multiple hunting expeditions, leading some, and I was in charge of the hunters during the Ragla incident three or four years ago."

A few trainees glanced at Teclos.

Then he motioned toward Sera.

"This is Sera. Also a fire mage. She is a close combat specialist. Her flaming sword has sliced through many monsters and will likely do so to many more."

Sera gave a lazy wave, though her eyes remained sharp.

Ulmak gestured toward Darnel.

"Our big bundle of personality, Darnel. A very skilled water mage—his mid-range utility is outstanding."

Darnel crossed his arms.

"A goddamn babysitter, tch..." he muttered.

"And last but not least," Ulmak continued, nodding toward the broad-shouldered man at the end, "Kosak. An excellent earth mage. If you need scouting or something needs to not move, he’s your man."

Kosak simply nodded.

Just a steady presence.

"Now that introductions are finished, follow us," Ulmak ordered.

They were led to the changing rooms.

Inside, racks of trainee gear were neatly arranged. Standard issue.

Each applicant received:

A bow.

A quiver of normal arrows.

A short sword.

Basic leather armor.

Sturdy boots.

A leather cap.

Some had their own pieces of gear, and Loric even seemed to be fully equipped already.

Teclos ran a hand along the bow’s curve.

It was a simple short bow. Functional and adequate.

As they began equipping themselves, Ulmak continued speaking.

"If you pass the exam—which, by the way, is simply a hunt—you may keep the trainee set until you’ve earned enough to purchase your own gear."

He paced slowly as they tightened straps and tested grips.

"Today’s hunt will be done in a group. In each group, one hunter will be assigned to you as a mentor. The assigned hunter will provide basic guidance and instructions for you."

He paused.

"Outside of that, we will not help you unless absolutely necessary."

A few trainees swallowed.

"If it comes to that," Ulmak added evenly, "you should consider yourselves disqualified. Well, most of the time."

Darnel groaned loudly.

"Holy shit, how much is he gonna ramble on? I have places to be."

Kosak didn’t even look at him.

"Shut up," he said flatly. "He needs to explain this for their safety."

"Who gives a shit?" Darnel shot back. "He can explain it when he’s alone with them."

Sera scoffed.

"The only place you need to be is at the pub, drinking again like a loser," she said in a sickly sweet voice. "But man, today you really are an insufferable prick."

Darnel’s aura flared again—cold, sharp, and aggressive.

Only this time, Ulmak did not sigh.

He exploded.

Mana flooded the room like a collapsing mountain.

The trainees dropped.

Literally.

Teclos felt his knees buckle as the weight of the mana pressed against his shoulders. His breath hitched. Even thinking became difficult under the sheer density of Ulmak’s sudden aura release.

Darnel’s flare vanished instantly, silenced.

"Listen," Ulmak spoke, his voice no longer calm, but still controlled. "I don’t care that you’re in a bad mood. You are interrupting information they need. Some of it is vital for their well-being."

The pressure intensified slightly.

"Now silence until I say otherwise. From all of you..."

Sera stood very still.

Kosak remained unbothered.

Darnel glared—but said nothing.

Teclos stared. This was the first time he had seen Ulmak truly angry, and it was terrifying.

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the aura vanished.

The air felt light again.

Ulmak cleared his throat.

"Now that the nagging has stopped," he said casually, "let’s continue with my lecture. Oh—and kids—you can still ask questions. No need to be afraid."

A few nervous chuckles broke the tension.

Once fully geared, they exited the guild hall and stepped back into the winter morning.

The cold felt refreshing after the tense situation.

At the town gates, the hunters divided the trainees into four groups.

Teclos looked over the groups quickly.

Loric ended up in Sera’s group, and Ralph ended up in Kosak’s.

Interesting.

Darnel took four others, including one of Loric’s friends.

Kosak formed another trio.

Ulmak looked at the remaining names.

"Teclos. Samara. Eldric. Gillard. You’re with me."

Teclos felt a small surge of excitement as it was finally about to begin.

They headed toward the northern path.

Toward the mountains.

Snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked. Their breath fogged in the air.

Ulmak led them steadily across the terrain without stopping.

"You have only one objective," he said as they moved. "You are to track, locate, and kill a suitable low-rank monster. Preferably something you can handle alone, without me."

"Now, any suggestions?" Ulmak asked.

"A pack of wolves?" Eldric asked, unsure.

"Sure, that works... if you want to die. Stone boars and dire wolves are generally a hard hunt. Horned hares are easy, but you’ll need many to pass. Lone dire wolves, if you can find them," Ulmak replied. "Avoid anything that moves in packs..."

They approached the river.

The water flowed dark beneath partial sheets of ice. Kosak’s group veered west before the crossing. Darnel’s group had already disappeared south.

Ulmak stopped.

"Cross carefully," he instructed.

Samara spotted stones beneath the surface and began planning a stepping route.

Teclos watched the terrain.

The mountains loomed ahead, white and silent.

He focused now... this was it, a real hunt.

Ulmak glanced back at them.

"From here on out," he said quietly, "act like hunters."