Yuno stood dazed at the edge of his balcony, overlooking the endless skyline of Ara. The nation was beautiful—just like his homeland of Orion. It had been over four years, and yet he still couldn't forget. Yuno looked strong yet frail, his muscles toned and his jaw sharp. But if one were to look deep into his eyes, the fragility of his mind was overwhelming. Yuno turned around and looked back into his room, as he did every day. His white trousers cut right above his ankles, and his top remained uncovered.
He walked in, combed his short black hair, and finally decided to change into his clothes. Such a simple task deprived him of his energy; he flopped onto his bed. He waved his hand in one swift movement. In front of him appeared a floating piece of paper titled "The Covenant of the Hunter."
The contract that his father bestowed upon him when he was just a child now lingered—the only thing that represented his father. It read: "A hunter's obligation is to hunt, go out and bring back spoils, and invoke fear among your prey." Everyone had a contract—well, not everyone, but most royalty did. Contract holders had immense power, designed to fight and protect. Yet Yuno failed to use his contract. He failed to hunt; he never understood what that meant. He had memorized every cubic centimeter of that dull brown piece of paper, yet he comprehended nothing.
Yuno sighed. As he did, his doorbell rang.
"Wake up," said a growly, sleepy voice.
It was Asmir, the prince of Ara and Yuno's only companion. The contract disappeared, and Yuno went to open the door. Asmir practically fell on Yuno, exclaiming, "Why do we have breakfast so early?"
Yuno responded, "Ask the captain. Plus, you chose to join the royal guards."
"Yeah, yeah, come on, let's go—I'm starving," said Asmir.
Yuno locked his door and walked behind Asmir, who was both excited and flopping around unfocused. While he walked, Yuno thought about the royal guards and why he had joined them in the first place. First of all, he was now old enough to do so; furthermore, he no longer wanted to be a spoiled brat who lived in the company of a king and provided nothing in return. Secondly, he wanted to awaken his contract—he wanted to avenge his father. And so, the royal guards were perfect. He would learn to fight and would provide protection from the monsters that appeared on the far edges of the nation. Lastly, he wanted to understand—himself, his contract, what it meant to hunt.
Yuno and Asmir finally reached the training grounds below the castle. The area was littered with bags, weapons, and other equipment. The sun was still glaring at them; knights and fledglings were in armor, exchanging banter. Yuno walked past the unfamiliar faces, every now and then catching glances. He stopped at a chef who seemed to be handing out breakfast and packed lunches for the day. After he got his share, bowed, thanked the chef, and walked away. There was less banter on his way back, more eyes on him, and just a little murmur. His dull face—stolid and unmoving—was a facade. He was fearful, lost, and lacked the humanity that had suffocated him when he was a child.
Asmir was as loud as ever, eating away; Yuno joined him. They ate, and then the captain walked in. The Dominion was fearsome; he carried his blade on his back and stood over six feet tall. He gave Yuno and Asmir a dubious look, then frowned as Asmir started to choke on his food. The man wore black trousers and an oversized shirt that unnaturally hugged his body. His blade, at least a foot wide, stood as tall as he was. Yuno looked in amazement, wondering how heavy such a thing could possibly be—then he thought about how many souls had been claimed by it.
After coughing to let his presence be known—which was entirely unnecessary, since his aura was already overpowering—he spoke.
"We have two new recruits with us today. You all know Asmir, our prince, and we have another prince with us—Yuno," said Captain Hiro.
Asmir smiled and waved at everyone; Yuno was shocked at being called a prince. He was, at most, a refugee—nothing like a prince. He didn't even have a king or a queen, or even a nation to belong to. The statement gave fleeting life to his apathetic face. But he, too, snapped out of his daze and gave the soldiers a respectful bow.
Hiro handed Yuno a sword made from the husk of a monster he had slain. "Use this until you can release your Anki," said Hiro. All the other soldiers were contract holders and could manifest weapons that best suited them in completion of their contracts. Yuno, however, was unable to use his contract to manifest his Anki. The blade was pristine white—it reflected Yuno's lifeless face.
Soon the group boarded a bullet train. The nation was vast—millions of miles across. Humanity had only developed technology for transportation; wars were fought with contracts, and monsters were hunted with contracts. This left technology to be used solely for travel and for discovering new edges of the world, which never seemed to end. The train was immensely fast, breaking the sound barrier. After about two hours, they arrived at the last train stop—the border between the nation of Ara and Indus.
The border was a graveyard of souls, both human and monster. It was an unregulated zone; each bordering nation was responsible for sending out cohorts of contract holders to eliminate the monsters that spawned there. That being said, the border wasn't simply a narrow strip of land where both sides could see each other's edges. The border itself was millions of miles wide. A few human settlements dotted the vast area, but it was primarily used to train young contract holders.
"We have a magnitude-level one monster roaming the border about five miles ahead. The creatures are described as seven- to ten-foot-long grasshoppers with sharp, scythe-like arms. Shouldn't be too bad," said Hiro.
They readied their swords and started to walk, with those who had the ability to see long distances leading the pack. It wasn't really a walk—they called it that and acted as such, but they were almost running at full speed. Yuno was definitely not walking; he was breaking a sweat and breathing heavily. That being said, he was steadily keeping pace. Even without inhuman speed or strength, he knew he needed to keep up. So, for the past four years, he trained day and night, optimizing his body to keep up with contract holders. His stamina surprised even the captain, who smiled at him in response. He strained his muscles and once lackluster face turned hot.
Around fifteen miles in, one of the scouts called out, "We've got a pack at four o'clock!"
The formation shifted right instantly. In the distance, the crunching of trees echoed, followed by the low tremor of the earth beneath their boots. The terrain stretched wide and empty—vast fields of green interrupted only by scattered patches of forest. The midday sun hung high above them, spilling gold across the flowers, stones, and the gravel road they'd abandoned twelve miles back.
Yuno drew his blade—an ivory-white sword nearly as tall as he was, gleaming under the sun. Despite its formidable size, it felt weightless in his hands. The group locked into formation: Hiro and three knights at the front, Asmir following close behind, and the rest forming a tight perimeter. The ground began to quake, and the shrill scraping of claws against soil grew louder.
Then—suddenly—
A massive arm, shaped like a scythe, tore through the treeline, striking toward Hiro with blistering speed. But before it could land, the limb was severed clean at the joint. The creature shrieked, stumbling as blood splattered the dirt.
Captain Hiro stood motionless, his blade now coated crimson. He'd cut through the monster in a single swing.
Yuno's breath caught in his throat. He could only see the captain's back, but even from there he felt the weight of Hiro's killing intent pressing against him like a tidal wave. It was suffocating—a reminder of how small he was. How did something that big fall so fast? he thought, frozen in disbelief.
But Hiro didn't move. He simply stood over the corpse, shoulders tense, blade lowered, staring down in silence. The sun's light framed his silhouette—bright above, but shadowed below—like a man divided between glory and grief.
The other knights finished off the remaining beasts. Yuno remained still, trembling, until Asmir's hand touched his shoulder.
"You good?" Asmir asked, brows furrowed with quiet concern.
"Ah, um… yeah," Yuno muttered, forcing a nod.
The rest of the day blurred together—scouts spotting more hordes, knights cutting them down, fire cleansing the remains. By dusk, the once silver blades had turned maroon with blood. When they finally made camp, Yuno threw himself into work—gathering wood, helping set up tents—anything to silence the shame gnawing at him.
The others rarely spoke to him. It wasn't contempt—it was pity. They knew the story of Orion. They knew what he had lost. And though none dared to speak of it, their silence screamed louder than words ever could.
When the campfire burned low, Yuno approached the captain.
"Captain," he said quietly, "I'll take first watch. Please, sir."
The captain hesitated, his expression shadowed with concern. But Yuno's resolve left little room for refusal, and finally, with a slow nod, Hiro relented.
So Yuno took the first watch. He walked the perimeter of the camp with quiet diligence, eyes scanning the horizon for movement. The orange glow of the fires licked the black canvas of the tents, their shadows flickering in rhythm with the wind. They had made camp far from the charred remains of the beasts they'd slain—burned deliberately to keep stronger monsters at bay.
For the first time all day, Yuno felt his breath steady. Away from the others' eyes, the weight of failure seemed to loosen its grip. He let himself enjoy the stillness—the way the night hummed faintly, how the stars shimmered over the endless grasslands.
Then—he froze.
A sound. Faint. Wet. Heavy. Breathing.
His pulse spiked. He turned sharply—
—and the tents were burning.
Flames roared to life as if the world itself had been set alight. Thick smoke surged upward, swallowing the sky. The black tents twisted and writhed in the fire's embrace, their outlines melting into the night. Yuno stumbled back, his eyes wide, his thoughts fragmenting into panic.
"H-how… when—how did this happen?" he gasped.
Screams erupted from within the tents. Soldiers clawed at the fabric, their muffled cries mixing with the hiss of burning cloth. The air was thick with the stench of melting tar and seared flesh. Yuno's legs trembled; his chest tightened. The sight hollowed him.
Some managed to escape—charred, bleeding, coughing smoke. They summoned their Ankis in reflex, weapons manifesting with shaking hands as they searched for an enemy they couldn't see.
Yuno sprinted toward the center of the camp, desperation burning hotter than the flames around him. He grabbed a wounded knight, pulling him upright, supporting him by the shoulder. His voice cracked as he shouted, "What happened? Where is it?"
Captain Hiro emerged through the haze, his blade already drawn. His voice was steady, low. "I can't feel its presence," he muttered. Then, louder—"It's not the kid's fault. On your feet!"
Before anyone could respond, a scream tore through the air—raw, primal, inhuman.
Something rolled to a stop by Hiro's boots.
A head.
Its single glazed eye stared upward, blank and empty.
The surviving soldiers closed ranks instantly, forming a circle—backs to each other, weapons drawn, the wounded pressed to the middle. The firelight painted their armor red.
Then came another scream—this one inside the circle. Blood erupted upward like a crimson fountain, raining down on the men. A body hit the ground, headless.
Even the bravest among them couldn't hide their fear. Yuno saw it—the shaking blades, the darting eyes. Whatever stalked them was unseen, merciless, and near.
The night was no longer silent. It was alive—and it was hunting.
"Asmir! Where's the prince?" asked Trey, one of the knights under Hiro.
"Don't worry, Asmir should be fine," answered the captain.
He was fine—he came running toward the group, carrying a wounded soldier on his back. Just as he arrived, another soldier lost their head. Then another. And another. Soon the circle was left with only twelve people. The panic was getting worse, and so was their ability to breathe. The fumes from the flames and the heavy smoke made it hard to see and inhale.
"Even if I did, you would all die. You know what Claymore Coliseum does," said Hiro to Trey in a hushed, frustrated voice.
Trey had a defeated look on her face, her hair tied in a bun and her clothes burned. Then another head fell, rolling on the ground. Not only did they not see who was making the attacks—they didn't even know who would be next.
Then came the breathing again—the heavy, groggy voice echoing in Yuno's ears. He looked behind him and saw a large ant-like creature standing before him, with four arms, two legs, and wings. Six eyes stared Yuno down, and one of its hands wielded a sword—short and slightly curved. Yuno jumped back, drawing the husk sword and pointing it at the monster. Hiro lunged at the figure, his slash so powerful that it extinguished the flames consuming the tents.
"Fuck, that thing is fast. And that sword—that's no magnitude level 1 monster," cursed Hiro.
"Anki, Claymore Arc," whispered Hiro.
Suddenly, a vast array of swords surrounded him, levitating with their tips pointed outward. They spun in a unified circle. The ant returned, but before Hiro could react, his blades extended outward, piercing the ant through the throat and chest. The ant had no reaction—it simply walked closer and closer to Hiro, leaving a trail of blood behind.
Then, with a sudden dash cutting through the smoke, the ant grabbed Trey's face, crushing it like an apple. Her eyes and brains splattered out. Hiro responded instantly, his sword swinging upward cleanly, slicing off one of the four arms.
A distorted groan escaped the ant's mouth—no, it wasn't a groan, it was… laughter. The ant kicked Hiro, sending him back, but he managed to stay on his feet. Hiro's blades still protruded from the creature's body. Yuno stared, paralyzed, as flashbacks took over his vision. He saw the nations of Pavo and Drago slaughtering the children, women, and soldiers of his homeland before him. He stood there useless, just as he had back then—unable to stop the hell that fell upon Orion.
Asmir was next, taking flash steps toward the figure with his glowing red blade shaped like a katana, slashing upward. He missed—so did the next few knights and fledglings who tried. The ant's laughter grew louder, its voice pushing the smoke outward along with the soldiers surrounding it. Then more heads fell—more blood pooling between the dirt and grass.
Only Hiro, Asmir, Yuno, two knights, and three fledglings remained—one of whom was still hung over Yuno's shoulder, too hurt to move.
Hiro and Asmir continued to attack again and again, but the ant, amidst the flames and blood, managed to grab Hiro by the throat and fling him dozens of meters away—too far to see. Yuno's eyes were so wide they started to dry up, tears dripping from their corners. His hands were trembling, the wounded soldier over his shoulder coughing blood. Then the man lost his head, his blood staining Yuno's hair and face crimson. Yuno fell to the ground.
The monster looked at him and then opened its mouth in what seemed like a smile. In an instant, it flew toward Yuno and punched him across the campsite. Through the engulfing flames overtaking the camp, the shadowy figure stepped out—the ant, now dashing toward Yuno with its sword pointed at his heart.
Once more, the prince who stood on the principle of hope was hopeless, just as his people were massacred—but this time, he would fall too.
Right before the blade punctured Yuno's heart, a figure stepped between them, blocking the blow with his sword. However, it was barely enough; both Yuno and the figure were thrown back a few feet away from the monster. It was Asmir. He stood, holding his crimson-red blade, glowing. The Anki dripped blood, staining the green grass maroon. The bloodlust around him was suffocating. The world stood still—the runes on Asmir's Anki leaked blood, seemingly coming from nowhere.
"Yuno, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why aren't you fighting back? When are you going to fight?" yelled Asmir, glaring at the ant.
"Yuno, it's been four years since they took your nation, and you still stand in fear. If you won't avenge your king, I will. He was just as much a father to me as my own. I will sacrifice every single soul that stands in my way of revenge. I will never give up," Asmir added.
Yuno was taken aback by the uncharacteristic intensity in his friend's voice, his eyes widening. All Asmir said was true; his nation had been slaughtered in front of him, just as the soldiers were today. Yuno wanted nothing but revenge, but here he was, once again losing the people who stood to save him. But this time he would fight — this time he would fight even if it meant dying with his people. This ant was an insignificant accumulation of power compared to the earth that fell upon Orion; he would bring hell to all who opposed him. Yuno stood, accepting that he would never regret the deaths of those who went against him.
Rage welled up in Yuno, raw and pure — a lifetime's worth boiling over in a single breath. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, glimmered with a newfound ferocity, veins throbbed crimson beneath his skin. Power pulsed from his core, and the very world seemed to tremble in answer: the air shivered, the wind bent and swirled, whipped into a spiraling vortex that bowed to his presence. Around him, color manifested in the motionless air — a visible aura that blazed with shifting hues from stormy indigo to searing gold.
His vision darkened as the last of his restraint broke; the once-ivory sword in his grasp dissolved, atomizing into shimmering dust. The ground caved inward beneath his feet as the energy of his awakening pressed into the earth with unstoppable force. For a moment, time itself seemed to pause, caught in the intensity of Yuno's transformation.
In that flash of clarity, Yuno finally understood: to hold a contract was to stand on the knife's edge between oblivion and triumph — to fight until nothing remained but blood, resolve, and the echo of all who had fallen before.
"Anki, Hunter's Arc," Yuno said in a hushed voice.
A sword — three feet of shimmering steel — erupted into existence in his grasp. The handle was bound in dark, weathered bandages, each wrap stained by forgotten battles, while the blade itself gleamed broad and unwavering, etched from guard to tip with ancient runes that pulsed faint blue. As Yuno stepped forward, the ground seemed to yield; stones and soil curled in deference beneath his feet. The ant, sensing the shift in power, hesitated — its many eyes narrowing in wary amusement, even as it instinctively retreated a pace from the weapon's awakening presence.
"I too will kill them. I too will save my nation. I too will avenge my father," Yuno said to Asmir.
Fueled by anger, Yuno dashed at the ant, disappearing right before his blade met the creature's chest. He circled the ant in dashes and jumps, moving so fast he was nearly invisible to the human eye. Yuno slashed at the ant; it blocked the blow with its own sword, but it still stumbled back.
"An-ki, Hunter's Execution," said Yuno.
With a deep, controlled breath, Yuno gripped the bandaged hilt, muscles straining as the sword in his hands began to swell with otherworldly power. The blade expanded, growing with each passing second until it loomed several meters long and nearly as wide—an enormous slab of glimmering steel illuminated by crackling energy. The air trembled with anticipation, and a low hum filled the battlefield as the ground seemed to bow beneath the blade's new weight.
Summoning every ounce of strength, Yuno raised the colossal weapon overhead. In a single, devastating motion, he brought it crashing down. The massive blade cleaved through the hulking ant-monster, slicing it cleanly in two with brutal finality. The sheer force of the strike continued into the earth, splitting the ground in its wake—the dirt flaring outward on either side, gouged deeply and marked by the sword's passage.
On both sides of the scarred earth, embers flickered and flames licked upward, charring the rift's jagged edges. At the heart of the wound, steam hissed from smoldering soil and blackened charcoal—a testament to the overwhelming energy unleashed in that instant. The aftermath hung in the air—a moment of awe and terror—as Yuno stood at the epicenter of destruction, the enormity of his newfound strength evident to all who witnessed it.
Both Yuno and Asmir were shocked by his display. Then they realized the tents were no longer burning—the smell of melted plastic no longer filled their noses. Now, only smoke drifted through the air. They rushed to help the soldiers; when they arrived, they saw only Captain Hiro.
"Good job, soldier," said Hiro, followed by a salute. Then he fell to the ground, face flat.
Surrounding him were hundreds more ant creatures, though of a weaker rank—all fallen to the ground, slaughtered brutally, thousands of blades protruding from their chests and heads. In the fading night sky, Yuno and Asmir could see a fleeting image of a colossal coliseum, its walls stained with blood and its arches archaic. So this was the wrath of a Dominion.
The two princes hurried to get Hiro on his feet. Only then did they notice that there were far more monsters than they had seen before—thousands scattered around the campsite, scorched in flames and piled high.
What the fuck happened here? they both thought.