Morning came quietly over Korvan Village.
Mist hung over the valley, wrapping the rooftops like a soft veil. The forge no longer burned, and the air carried only the faint scent of ash and iron. Hunnt stood by the village gate, his travel pack secured, the Infernal Drakebreaker Gauntlets resting over his forearms — black steel with faint red veins that pulsed like a heartbeat beneath the surface.
Kael, Alder, Seren, and Maerin were there to see him off.
No one spoke for a while. The silence wasn't heavy — just familiar, like the calm before a hunt. The kind of quiet that didn't need words.
Hunnt adjusted his cloak and gave a small smile. "Guess this is it."
Kael crossed his arms. "For now."
Seren bowed slightly. "We'll keep the village safe, founder."
Hunnt sighed softly. "Still not used to that title."
Alder grinned. "You better get used to it, boss. You started this whole thing."
Hunnt looked at them — the three who had followed him through flame and ruin, now standing as their own pillars. He nodded once. "Then I'll see you when the time's right. Keep walking the path."
He turned to Maerin, who stood beside the gate, holding the One Piece book he'd given her days before. "Keep it hidden," Hunnt said. "That book is more dangerous than any monster."
Maerin's lips curved faintly. "I know. And don't worry — I'm too old to be reckless."
Hunnt chuckled. "You said the same thing before Vulcarion Basal."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Go. Before I change my mind and chain you to the forge."
Hunnt smirked, then gave one last nod to his companions. "Good hunting."
The three Wanderers raised their hands in salute.
And then, without another word, Hunnt stepped past the gate — his figure fading slowly into the mist, the crimson glow of dawn behind him.
---
Alder was the next to leave.
His journey took him south, through the black hills and toward the road leading back to Draconis City. The trip took two days. When the towering gates of the volcanic city came into view, a strange feeling tugged at him — something between nostalgia and dread.
The guards at the gate recognized him instantly.
"By the gods—Alder?" one of them stammered. "You're alive?"
Alder adjusted the Obsidian Dragonheart on his shoulder, smirking. "Last I checked."
The guard's eyes widened as they scanned his armor — the Obsidian Sentinel, black and red with molten seams glowing faintly beneath the plates. "You look like you walked out of a forge."
"Something like that," Alder said, walking past with a lazy wave. "Don't worry, I still pay my taxes."
Word spread fast. By the time he reached the Guild Hall, the place was buzzing with murmurs. Hunters turned to look — whispers cutting through the air like blades.
"That's him!"
"He fought Ignis, didn't he?"
"No—he was part of the team that slayed Vulcarion Basal!"
"Impossible, that monster couldn't be killed!"
Alder ignored most of it, though he couldn't hide the small grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He walked straight to the front desk, where the Guild clerk nearly dropped her ledger.
"Alder? You're… back?"
"Missed me?" he said.
She blinked, still staring at his armor. "The Guild thought you were dead."
"Not yet," Alder replied. "Got a few more monsters to annoy first."
Behind him, a few hunters murmured about the glowing veins in his sword, the strange pattern etched on his shoulder armor — the Eternal Mark. None of them recognized its meaning, but they felt something in it — an unease, a quiet power that didn't belong to the Guild.
Alder turned slightly, catching their stares. "You boys ever hunt something that made you question everything you knew?"
They didn't answer. They didn't have to.
Alder grinned. "Good. Keep it that way."
---
Back in Korvan Village, Kael and Seren stood in the training field as morning light washed over the trees.
It had become a ritual now — the sound of feet striking dirt, the hiss of motion, the rhythm of breath and focus. Seren had improved fast — her movements cleaner, her stamina stronger. Kael, though, was relentless.
"Again," he said.
Seren lunged forward, performing Soru, her form blurring briefly as she crossed ten meters in a blink. She stumbled slightly on landing but steadied herself with her lance.
"Better," Kael said. "But you're still thinking about distance. Stop measuring. Feel it."
Seren nodded, panting lightly. "Easier said than done."
Kael smirked. "Welcome to the Path."
She dropped her stance, breathing out. "What about you? You've been doing that weird breathing all morning."
Kael exhaled sharply through his nose. "Tekkai training."
He crossed his arms, his body tightening, muscles hardening under his skin. Seren tilted her head.
"It looks like you're… holding your breath."
"That's one way to see it." He relaxed, stretching his shoulders. "Tekkai's about control. It's turning your body into steel through tension — but only for a heartbeat. Too long, and you can't move."
Seren tapped her chin. "So basically, flexing with purpose?"
Kael groaned. "You make it sound ridiculous."
She grinned. "You're the one who looks constipated when you do it."
Kael laughed, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. You've got jokes. Then how about this — you teach me your shield bracing technique, and I'll stop mocking you."
Seren smirked. "Deal."
For the next few days, their training became a blur of rhythm and exchange. Seren learned to move faster and lighter, integrating Soru into her defensive style, darting between positions while maintaining her guard. Kael, meanwhile, learned to brace using Tekkai, adapting it to his light armor stance.
But Seren wasn't satisfied.
One afternoon, as they rested under the old oak near the forge, she turned to Kael with a curious glint in her eyes.
"Kael," she said, "I want to learn Shigan."
Kael raised a brow. "That's a close-range strike. You use a lance. How would that even work?"
Seren looked at her weapon, running a hand along the shaft. "That's what I want to find out. If Shigan is about piercing with precision… what if the principle can be transferred to a weapon?"
Kael's smirk returned. "You're starting to sound like Hunnt."
She grinned. "Then maybe I'm learning something."
They spent the next week experimenting — combining thrusts with the precision technique of Shigan. Seren channeled the same focus and explosive energy normally used through a fingertip into the tip of her lance. The result wasn't perfect, but when the strike landed, it left a clean puncture through the training dummy — deeper than any normal thrust.
Seren blinked. "It worked?"
Kael nodded slowly, impressed. "Looks like we just made a new form. Let's call it… Shigan: Lance Form."
Seren smirked proudly. "No, I'll name it later. Something cooler."
Kael laughed. "Fair enough."
---
Far from them, Hunnt's journey continued across the northern cliffs that bordered the sea.
The wind howled, carrying the salt of distant waves. He stopped by the edge of a jagged cliff, the ocean stretching endlessly below. The sun reflected across the horizon like fire on glass.
He took a deep breath and flexed his gauntlets. The Infernal Drakebreaker pulsed faintly — the veins of red shifting as he rotated his wrist.
With a quiet hum, the weapon's mechanism transformed, the gauntlet unfolding and locking into hammer mode.
Hunnt swung once — the impact cracked the nearby stone, dust scattering through the air.
He switched back to gauntlet mode, striking again, faster, lighter — the shift between power and precision seamless.
"Not bad," he muttered. "Still heavy… but manageable."
He looked out across the ocean, where storm clouds gathered like sleeping beasts. Somewhere beyond that horizon was another continent — another world of monsters waiting to be understood, maybe even saved.
Hunnt closed his eyes, the wind tugging at his cloak. "The path has no end," he murmured.
He turned, stepping away from the cliff's edge.
"The hunt has no master."
And with that, the Founder of the Eternal Wanderers walked toward the sea — ready to begin his next chapter.