The training ground stretched across the valley like an old scar carved into the earth-stone and sand fused together by countless battles. Sunlight glimmered against the pale walls enclosing the arena, and tall wooden towers cast long shadows that crept across the field. Flags of blue, red, white, and black fluttered lazily in the breeze, their cloth snapping softly like distant whispers of war. The air smelled of dust, iron, and something older-memory.
At the front gate stood Souten.
The small lantern in his hand flickered uneasily, its flame trembling against the wind as though it sensed what was about to unfold. Behind him waited six newly recognized demon hunters-no longer candidates, not yet veterans.
Nao stood stiffly, fingers brushing the beast charm at his waist. His uniform fit well, but his posture betrayed his nerves. Beside him, Aoi adjusted the red ribbon binding her hair, her sharp eyes scanning the arena with thinly veiled excitement. Hana stood a short distance away, arms crossed, her expression calm but distant, fire simmering beneath her stillness.
Kaito leaned against a post, katana at his side, eyes half-lidded yet alert.
Riku rolled his shoulders slowly, loosening his muscles like a predator preparing to strike. Yuta stood silently, his left arm wrapped in thick bandages. Beneath the cloth, dark veins pulsed faintly, as though something alive was breathing just under his skin.
Souten turned to face them.
"Today isn't about raw power," he said, his voice low and steady. "It's about control. Teamwork. Strategy." His gaze passed over each of them, lingering just long enough to weigh their resolve. "If you can't trust the person beside you, you'll die before the real enemy ever shows up."
No one replied-but the air tightened, heavy with understanding.
At the center of the arena, the elders waited.
Each of them was a living legend.
Dajiro, the blind fighter, stood barefoot on the sand, his head tilted slightly as though listening to the earth itself breathe. Shin stood nearby, masked and motionless, an oppressive pressure radiating from him-his infamous eye-based power capable of freezing enemies mid-thought. Kenzo lounged casually, yet the telekinetic blades floating behind him spun in slow, lazy circles, humming softly with lethal intent.
Kazuto muttered low chants under his breath, greenish light flickering faintly around his hands. Reika stood with unnerving stillness, steel-like strings dangling from her fingers as her puppets crouched beside her like obedient corpses. Off to one side loomed Tetsuo, massive and broad, gnawing on dried meat, while Masaki-the holy father-gripped glowing relic weapons in silent prayer. Near them stood Itsuki, quiet and unreadable, an ancient tome chained to his wrist, its pages rustling without wind.
Then Genzo stepped forward.
The leader of the Hunter Association towered over the field, broad-shouldered, silver hair bound loosely behind him. His presence alone shifted the atmosphere-as if the arena itself straightened in his wake.
"Six new hunters," Genzo said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the ground. "You've been trained, tested, and broken down." His eyes were sharp, merciless. "Today, we see what you've learned."
He raised a hand, fingers spreading.
"You'll face your seniors in a Protect the Flag exercise. No mercy. No hesitation. Treat this as war."
With a sharp sweep of his arm, the field shimmered. Four flags erupted into existence at the corners of the arena, each glowing faintly with barrier magic.
"Teams are set," Genzo continued. "Nao. Yuta. Itsuki-you're one side." His gaze shifted. "Aoi. Shin. Kenzo-the other."
Yuta cracked his neck, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "So it's like that, huh?"
Nao swallowed, then forced a nervous smile. "Guess we're about to get destroyed."
Aoi smirked, eyes gleaming. "Don't worry," she said lightly. "I'll make it quick."
The whistle shrieked.
The ground exploded into motion.
Kenzo moved first-his blades shot forward like silver comets, tearing through the air. Itsuki slammed his palm onto the ground, barriers rising just in time as metal shrieked against glowing wards. Nao sprinted left, instincts screaming, while Yuta vanished in a blur of dark speed.
Shin didn't move.
He simply turned his masked face toward Nao.
The world stuttered.
Nao's muscles locked mid-step, his thoughts freezing as invisible pressure crushed down on his mind. Panic surged-but before it could take hold, Aoi leapt past Shin, riding atop her Nekoma as the spectral cat burst into existence, claws tearing into the sand.
"Move!" she shouted.
Yuta reappeared behind Kenzo, dark aura flaring violently as he struck. Kenzo barely turned-one blade snapping back to block, the impact sending shockwaves through the air.
Kaito watched from the sidelines, arms folded, eyes narrowing.
Riku grinned slowly.
"So," he muttered, stepping forward. "This is how hunters are forged."
Above them, the flags fluttered harder now, snapping like battle standards.
And as dust rose and power clashed, one truth became clear-
This was no exercise.
This was initiation.