From that day on, Gael wouldn't stop asking.
"I want to become a hunter like you!"
"It's dangerous," Valarr told him for the tenth time.
"I don't care!" the boy insisted with fiery determination.
Valka, on the other hand, wasn't pleased.
"You shouldn't have told him anything!" she snapped, arms crossed.
"What was I supposed to do? He saw everything," Valarr replied with a grunt.
But the decision was already made.
After days of relentless begging, Valarr finally gave in.
"Fine... but you need to understand something, Gael," he said with a grave tone. "Being a hunter means putting your life on the line every single mission. One mistake... and you or your teammates could die."
Gael swallowed hard, but his resolve didn't waver.
And so, the training began.
Seven grueling years passed. Gael trained with a hand axe, lifted logs until his arms gave out, and hardened both body and mind.
By the time he turned fifteen, his physique was impressive—built through sweat, pain, and sheer will.
The time to leave had come.
Saying goodbye was the hardest part. Valka couldn't hold back her tears.
"Sweetheart... take care of yourself. Eat well, make good friends, bathe every day, don't stay up too late... and above all, live."
Gael felt a lump in his throat, but he smiled.
"I promise, Mom."
Valarr, full of pride and sorrow, placed a hand on Gael's shoulder.
"I'm proud of you, son. Remember your training, and you'll be fine. Don't hesitate. Don't get overconfident. Be cautious. We love you."
Gael couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He embraced his parents tightly, feeling the weight of the moment.
With his axe slung over his shoulder and a travel bag strapped to his back, he stepped onto the path toward the capital.
His destiny awaited.
---------
The capital was massive—bustling, noisy, and full of life. Nothing like the quiet forest life Gael had always known.
Before him stood a colossal structure of black stone: the headquarters of the Inquisition.
Hundreds of young people, all aspiring hunters like himself, were gathered outside its gates.
Inside the great hall, a man clad in heavy armor, sword and shield at his side, watched over the crowd with a sharp, commanding gaze.
"I am Krauser, Commander of the Inquisition," he declared with a voice that echoed off the stone walls. "This is not a game. If you are not ready to face death, walk away now. You will not be judged."
No one moved.
"Good," he continued. "This is the Inquisition of Hunters. We are the wall that shields humanity. We maintain the balance between the wild and the civilized. You will train in squads of four and specialize in one of the essential combat roles. Each one is vital. Let me explain."
He raised a hand and began listing the roles:
The Defender — shield and sword, the unbreakable wall.
The Attacker — greatsword, axe, or spear, the raw power of the team.
The Ranger — bow or crossbow, the eyes and reach of the squad.
The Researcher — the mind of the group, expert in beast behavior and a vital support medic.
"Now, your first trial begins," Krauser said.
The heavy doors of the hall creaked open, revealing a dense, misty jungle beyond.
Gael felt a chill run down his spine.
This… was the beginning of something far greater than he had ever imagined.