Chapter 10: Waking Nightmares
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my eyes tracing the shadows as they danced in the dim light. My attention drifted to my hand, where veins stood out starkly against my skin, as if they were on the verge of bursting. This unsettling change had been happening all over my body since the auction, veins swelling and tightening, yet without causing any pain or discomfort. At first, I was alarmed and went to see a doctor, hoping for an explanation. But when the doctors found nothing wrong, I chalked it up to some sort of reaction to the atmospheric mana.
Despite the eerie appearance, these changes didn't bring any real discomfort or alter my body in any significant way. The only differences I noticed were that my strength seemed to be increasing more easily, and my proficiency in weapon control and combat had improved—something I hadn't experienced since finishing Hunter School.
Hunter School was an institution like no other. Children first attended normal schools and then moved on to Junior Hunter School. By the time they graduated from Junior Hunter School at 17, they had been imparted all the necessary knowledge to use their powers and live a relatively normal life. But at 18, everything changed. Only then were they allowed to enter the main Hunter School, the entry restricted to those who had reached adulthood. It was something about a ritual, or perhaps the body reaching full maturity.
Some chose to attend regular universities, but those who sought to master combat, mana manipulation, weapon handling, and skill mastery had to attend Hunter School. And most importantly, only after passing could they obtain the license to enter dungeons and hunt monsters. Hunter School accepted students, or rather young adults, year-round, as someone was always turning 18. This system didn't affect the curriculum, as the courses and exams were the same for everyone, and there was no time limit on attendance—students could stay as long as they needed to pass their exams.
Honestly, it was better to attend Hunter School for at least two years, as the learning opportunities were vast. The curriculum ranged from psychological education to physical training, combat drills, and in-depth studies of world structures and politics. They even provided career counseling. The school didn't focus much on constellations or their powers, nor on one's constitution. Instead, they built a solid foundation, ensuring the body could handle whatever came its way. If it had been solely based on constellations, there was no way I would have passed.
Snapping out of my reverie, I thought back to the auction and how abruptly it had ended. The Saint had released his pressure, forcing the Domain Bearers to apologize—not to a rankless nobody like me, of course, but to the Saint himself. Afterward, they exchanged glances, scribbled something on a piece of paper, and handed it to the Saint. With a gesture, the Saint directed the Greek Domain Bearer to take the potion from my hands. Moments later, the Saint transferred 5,000 Hunter Coins to my brother, and just like that, the auction was over.
For the next month, the news was dominated by reports about the Ram Trading Group and the events of the 16th Annual Auction. But soon, even that was drowned out by other stories. Honestly, this past month hadn't been a quiet one for me. Aside from the strange physical changes, my dreams had become increasingly bizarre, the ringing in my ears had grown worse, and, most unsettling of all, I had begun to see Hanuman's constellation altar in my dreams.
Hunters didn't just form contracts with constellations on a whim. They needed to visit a constellation's altar and pray, hoping the constellation would take notice. If they were lucky enough to form a contract, they gained access to a status window and the constellation's shop. The status window displayed their level, estimated numerical stats, rank, and skills with their respective levels. Honestly, the level was more of an indicator of the body's capacity to handle mana, rather than a direct measure of power. It could be raised by killing monsters and collecting their coins, which could then be offered to the constellation.
Then there was rank—each one a mountain to be carefully scaled and respected. The first five ranks didn't have much of a gap in strength between them. However, the difference between these early ranks was nothing compared to the chasm that existed between the subsequent ones. That's why Rank 6, 7, and 8 individuals were given titles. Rank 6 hunters were called Sapling Nurturers because they sprouted the World Sapling Seed, commanding respect and expanding safe zones. Rank 7 hunters were known as Domain Bearers because they could command a domain and mobilize hunters to defend against any threat. They also wielded an authority from their constellation, a power far beyond ordinary skills, or so I'd heard from my brother. Finally, there were Rank 8 hunters, referred to as Saints. They were the pinnacle of power, capable of shattering countries if they wished. Saints were the hunters who brought large safe zones like Delhi together, harnessing the full authority of their constellation and wielding mana as if it were child's play.
My thoughts drifted back to the aura of the Saint I had felt at the auction. Nobody knew how much I longed to possess just a fraction of that power, but I knew it was a ridiculous notion. After all, I didn't have a constitution or a constellation to contract with.
Rising from bed with a self-deprecating smile, I pushed those thoughts aside and began to prepare for the day ahead.