The summons arrived at sunset.
A slip of parchment, pressed with the black seal of the Guild, slid under Ethan's chamber door. The weight of it was more than wax and ink—it was command, inescapable.
Shadowfang stirred from his place by the window, golden eyes gleaming in the fading light. Ethan broke the seal with careful fingers.
The words were simple, almost insultingly so.
> Assignment: Dusk Hunt.
Target: Corrupted Direhorn Pack (Estimated Rank: C).
Location: Vale of Ashes, two leagues east.
Assigned Hunters: Initiates of the Blood Oath.
Failure is not permitted.
At the bottom, a final line chilled his blood.
> Supervised.
Ethan exhaled sharply. Their first hunt wasn't just a mission—it was an evaluation. Someone would be watching.
Shadowfang's growl rumbled low. The wolf didn't like it either.
"We don't have a choice," Ethan murmured. He tightened the straps of his armor, checked the edge of his freshly sharpened dagger, and met Shadowfang's gaze. "We go. Together."
The wolf pressed its muzzle against his hand, the bond pulsing like a steady heartbeat.
---
The Vale of Ashes was aptly named.
The land east of Guild City lay scarred by old wars. Blackened trees jutted like skeletal fingers toward the blood-red sky. The air reeked of smoke and char, though no fire burned.
The group of initiates moved cautiously through the ruins. Ethan walked near the front, Shadowfang's form blending with the shadows, golden embers flickering faintly with each breath.
Lyra walked a few paces behind, her serpent coiled lazily, tongue flickering. She hadn't spoken to Ethan since the night on the balcony, but her eyes never stopped watching him. Calculating. Waiting.
The brute was absent. Still recovering from his injuries, they said. Ethan suspected humiliation hurt worse than broken bones.
Other initiates murmured nervously, their beasts uneasy in the scorched air. The weight of the oath pressed on all of them. To fail here meant more than death—it meant chains on their souls tightening until they snapped.
---
The first howl split the silence.
Low, guttural, carrying hunger.
Shadows flickered between the trees, eyes burning green. The Direhorns emerged one by one—massive wolf-like creatures with twisted horns of bone jutting from their foreheads, each glowing faintly with corrupted essence.
There were more than a dozen. Too many for an ordinary C-rank pack.
Ethan's chest tightened. Something was wrong.
The lead Direhorn stepped forward, larger than the rest, its horn cracked and dripping with ichor that hissed when it hit the ground. Its gaze fixed on the initiates with a predator's certainty.
Shadowfang's fur bristled, golden fire licking across his body.
The fight began.
---
Chaos exploded.
Beasts clashed in a blur of claws and steel. Screams tore through the dusk as one initiate was gored, her bond beast shredded beside her. Blood sprayed across the ashen ground.
Ethan had no time to think. The Direhorn lunged at him, horn aimed at his chest. He twisted aside, golden fire flaring as Shadowfang intercepted, slamming the beast back with claws wreathed in light.
The bond surged, their movements synchronized. Ethan's dagger bit deep into the Direhorn's flank as Shadowfang's jaws clamped on its throat. The creature writhed, howled, then collapsed in a heap of blackened flesh.
> [Essence Acquired: +5]
Ethan barely registered the notification before another came.
> [Warning: Target Strength Above Estimation]
[Mission Difficulty: Adjusted Rank – B+]
His blood ran cold.
They had been lied to.
---
"Form ranks!" Ethan shouted, voice cutting through the chaos. "Don't scatter—fight in pairs!"
To his surprise, some obeyed. Fear made them desperate for leadership, and in that void his voice carried weight. Lyra's eyes narrowed, but she gave no command of her own. Her serpent coiled forward, striking at Direhorns with venomous precision.
The pack closed in, relentless.
One lunged at Ethan's blind side. Shadowfang intercepted, claws sparking against its horn. Ethan pivoted, dagger flashing, driving it deep into the beast's eye. It shrieked, thrashing before collapsing.
The air grew thick with blood and smoke. Every breath tasted like iron.
---
Then the leader moved.
The cracked-horn Direhorn barreled forward, scattering initiates like leaves in a storm. Its horn glowed brighter, black energy seething along its edges.
Shadowfang growled, fire flaring hotter, but even he seemed unsettled.
The beast charged.
Ethan's body reacted before thought. He sprinted to meet it, golden fire surging from Shadowfang into his limbs. Time slowed—the world narrowing to the point of the horn, the roar of the beast, the hammer of his heart.
He leapt, twisting midair, dagger blazing. Shadowfang howled, golden resonance shaking the Vale.
> [Bond Synchronization: 50% → 56%]
Steel met bone.
The dagger drove into the Direhorn's cracked horn, shattering it in a spray of black ichor. The beast screamed, stumbling. Shadowfang pounced, claws tearing through its throat with a burst of golden fire.
The leader fell.
For a moment, silence.
Then the rest of the pack howled and fled into the trees, green eyes vanishing into the dusk.
---
The battlefield was ruin. Blood soaked the ash. Three initiates lay dead, their beasts dissolving into motes of light. Survivors staggered, some weeping, others silent in shock.
Ethan stood among them, chest heaving, Shadowfang beside him streaked with blood and fire. His dagger dripped black ichor, his arms trembling.
> [Mission Complete]
Reward: Essence +30
Status: Survivors Recorded
A final line flickered, unseen by anyone but him.
> [Supervisor Report: Pending]
Ethan's jaw tightened. Someone had sent them into a slaughter. Someone had wanted to see who survived.
And someone was watching.
---
Back at Guild City, the survivors were herded into the hall. The atmosphere was heavy, suffocating. The Guild Master stood at the altar once more, expression unreadable.
"You live," he said simply. "And others do not. This is the way of the Hunt."
No mourning. No comfort. Only fact.
His gaze fell on Ethan again, sharp as a blade.
"You led."
Ethan froze. He hadn't realized it himself, not fully. But the others had followed his command. For a moment, he had carried them.
The Guild Master's lips curved, not into a smile but something colder.
"We will see if that continues."
The words lingered like a shadow as they were dismissed.
---
That night, Ethan sat again on his balcony, Shadowfang resting at his side. The city was alive with light and sound, but his mind was heavy.
He turned his scarred hand over, staring at the faint red mark from the oath.
"They knew," he whispered. "They sent us into that pack knowing it wasn't C-rank."
Shadowfang growled softly, pressing against him. The bond thrummed in agreement.
Ethan's eyes narrowed toward the distant spires of the Guild.
"If this is how they test us… then we'll survive every test. No matter the cost."
And though he didn't know it, someone watched from the shadows below.
Lyra.
Her serpent's tongue flickered as her smile curved.
"Yes, survive, Ethan. Survive long enough to learn what the Guild truly hunts."
---
Chapter End.
---