He woke up before dawn, if this underground world even had dawns. He felt like, his body had been beaten with iron rods and muscles screamed as he tried to sit up. The scent of damp stone and stale incense clung to everything.
He hissed through his teeth, clutching his side. "fuck," Bruises from yesterday's training bloomed across his torso like dark flowers.
Asha's voice echoed in his mind.
"Get up, memoryless stray. You're already leagues behind everyone else."
He forced himself to stand. His training tunic was damp with cold sweat, sticking to his skin uncomfortably.
Outside his small room, the guild tunnels buzzed with muted life – recruits preparing for drills, hunters returning from night raids, and merchants setting up early trades.
As he stepped into the main training cavern, Asha was waiting, arms folded, her eyes locked onto him.
"You're late," she said coldly.
He opened his mouth to retort but bit it back and nodded stiffly.
"Today we start combat drills," she continued. "You're lucky you can even stand after yesterday's training. But if you collapse now, you're better off selling all your coins to the market and throwing yourself into the abyss."
He narrowed his eyes, something stubborn burning in his chest.
'Not giving up. Not now. Not ever.'
Asha gestured for him to follow her. They walked deeper into the tunnels until they reached an underground arena. Other recruits were already there, practicing strikes against mannequins or sparring under instructor supervision.
"Listen carefully," Asha said, her voice cutting through the murmurs around them.
"Combat as a Memory Hunter is not just about physical strength. You will face beasts born from fragmented memories – illusions made by regrets and obsessions. To kill them, you need clarity of mind and precision of movement."
She handed him a short sword. Its grip was wrapped in worn leather, the blade etched with faint runes.
"This is the basic hunter blade. Don't lose it."
He took it carefully, feeling its weight settle into his palm. It wasn't heavy, but it felt… real. Deadly.
"Begin," Asha commanded.
She spent the next hour drilling him in basic sword forms. His movements were awkward, unbalanced, his shoulders too stiff and feet clumsy. Every mistake was corrected with a sharp rap of her wooden staff against his legs or arms.
"Lower your stance. Shift your weight. Again. AGAIN!"
By the fifth time he fell onto the stone floor, his arms were trembling so violently he could barely hold the sword.
"That was embarrassing," Asha muttered. "Are you even trying, at this rate, you'll be torn apart by the weakest Remnant Beast."
He gritted his teeth, chest heaved with ragged breaths. His vision blurred with sweat and exhaustion, but somewhere deep in his core, anger simmered.
'I refuse to die here like trash.'
Summoning the last of his strength, he rose to his feet. He tightened the grip around the sword hilt until his knuckles turned white. Asha's eyes flickered, and for the first time, a ghost of approval crossed her face.
"Again," she said softly.
The hours dragged on with relentless repetition. Strike, block, evade. Strike, block, evade. His muscles burned, lungs screamed for air, and nausea twisted his gut. But he pushed on, fuelled by sheer stubbornness and flashes of fragmented memories – a blade under moonlight, boots crunching sand, blood dripping from his fingers.
"Enough."
He collapsed to his knees, gasping. The stone floor was cold against his flushed skin. Above him, Asha crouched down with expression unreadable on her face.
"Do you know why we train like this?" she asked quietly.
He forced himself to look up, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths spoke "To… survive."
A faint smile curved her lips, though her eyes remained sharp and distant. "No. We train like this… because Memory Hunting is not about survival alone. It is about dominance. About bending reality itself to your will. If you are too weak to even wield your memories, then you're nothing more than prey."
He swallowed hard, feeling her words sink into his bones.
She stood up and turned away. "Rest. You have combat assessment tomorrow. If you fail… you'll be reassigned to resource gathering."
Resource gatherers – the lowest rank in the guild. They were sent to scavenge ruined memory fields for scraps, exposed to Remnant Beasts with no backup. A death sentence.
As Asha walked away, her cloak fluttering behind her like a shadow, he collapsed fully onto his back, staring up at the cavern ceiling.
'Fuck… this hurts. Everything hurts.'
But as darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his fingers curled around the sword lying beside him.
'I will not die as prey. No matter what...'
His eyes drifted shut, his chest rising and falling slowly as exhaustion finally dragged him under.