Erik, Shasa, and Liya made their way back toward Eskil's shop.
"You haven't slept yet, have you?" Shasa asked.
"No, but I'm fine," Erik replied.
"That won't do." Shasa shot him a sharp look. "Go back to the guild and get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow—don't tell me you forgot?"
"I—" Erik started, but she cut him off.
"No buts. I'll take her to Eskil. You're going to the guild and lying down. Got it?"
There was no point arguing when she used that tone.
"…Alright. I'll head this way then," Erik said, turning to leave.
"Oi! You're really going to leave without saying goodbye to your little sister?" Shasa shouted after him.
Erik stopped, then turned around and tried his best to smile—awkward and stiff. "Goodbye… Liya…"
He exhaled like he'd just survived something brutal.
Shasa stared at him, her face twisted in disbelief. "My gods, Erik. You're hopeless."
She turned to the girl. "Hey, Liya, want to say goodbye to your brother?"
Liya nodded and said softly, "Goodbye, Brother."
Shasa grinned. "Look at that. Even a ten-year-old's better at this than you."
"Oh, sorry I'm not an expert in goodbyes," Erik muttered, a bit embarrassed.
That made Liya giggle, the first real sound she'd made since leaving the orphanage. The argument ended there.
And then Erik felt it—whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since the tavern, since before even that… it lifted, just a little.
"Come on, Liya. Let's leave this failure of a brother and go home," Shasa said, waving as she led the child toward Eskil's.
Erik watched them go, then pulled back the cloth over his arm. The bleeding had stopped. He fulfilled the promise he made.
"I hope you're at peace now," he whispered.
Then he turned and headed for the Adventurers' Guild. Some sleep would do him good.
---
The next morning came, and Erik prepared to head for the Hunters' Hall—a training ground usually reserved for rookies, but today, it served a different purpose: selecting hunters for the Velhein Raid.
According to the letter he'd received from the White Wolf Guild, he was one of the selection panel members.
His job was simple—test the applicants by sparring with them and decide who was worth taking along.
He arrived at the hall.
"Training room seven... now where the hell is that?" Erik muttered, scanning the maze of corridors.
"Master Erik!" a voice called out behind him.
He turned to see young man with blond hair jogging toward him, face flushed with nervous energy.
"Master Erik, I'm Yosul, Vice Captain Evalyn's assistant. I'll be guiding you today. Please follow me," he said quickly, already turning to lead the way.
Erik fell in step beside him. "So, how's this supposed to work?"
"We'll send a bunch of rookies into the room. As soon as they get in—beat the shit out of them," Yosul replied with a grin.
Erik raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like a selection process."
"Well, after the beatdown, you tell me if anyone's worth keeping," Yosul said.
"Oooh. Okay," Erik said, cracking a small smirk.
They stopped in front of a massive metal gate.
"Open gate seven!" Yosul shouted.
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a wide open arena—dusty floors, stone walls, and plenty of space to move.
It felt more like a coliseum than a training room.
"You can wait inside. We'll send the teams one by one," Yosul said, already turning to leave.
"Hey, assistant," Erik called out.
"It's Yosul."
"Do you know why Evalyn picked me for this?"
Yosul gave a shrug. "That's something you'll have to ask her yourself," he said, then disappeared down the hallway.
Erik stood there for a moment.
"Alright… let's beat the shit out of some rookies."
He stepped into the arena.
The wind kicked up dust across the open arena. Clouds loomed above, casting a gray shadow over the cracked stone floor.
Erik stretched his shoulders, cracking his neck as he glanced around the desolate space.
"Oh shit... I don't even know how much I'm supposed to hold back," he muttered. "I wonder if I can ask Yosul—"
"Oi! Oi! Master Erik! Can you hear me?" Yosul's voice echoed across the arena.
Erik blinked. "What the—yeah, I can hear you. Where are you even speaking from?"
"Hehe, don't worry about that! As long as we can talk, it's fine."
Erik frowned. "Alright, then tell me—how much should I hold back? You don't want these kids getting injured, do you?"
"Hold back?" Yosul laughed. "Don't."
"…What?"
"They'll have a mana shield spell cast on them. If the shield breaks, it means you landed a fatal blow. Otherwise, they're fine. So don't hold back."
Erik's lips curled into a grin. "Oooh… this is gonna be fun."
"Entering first team!" Yosul shouted.
A metal gate opened with a groan, and five rookies stepped in—four melee fighters and a caster trailing behind them.
"Huh? I thought they said there'd be a monster in here," the one in front muttered. "It's just a guy."
"I'll take you first, then!" he charged in.
Erik didn't even flinch.
He vanished in a blur—and then—
BOOM!
The rookie's shield shattered with a flash of blue light as Erik's fist collided with his face. The man flew back across the arena and slammed into the dirt.
The others froze in shock.
"Come at me with everything you've got!" Erik roared, already closing in on the next one.
Too slow to react.
BOOM!
A punch to the gut. Another shield cracked and flickered out.
"Next," Erik growled.
"Oi, cover me! I'm prepping a spell!" the caster shouted, stepping back.
The last two fighters moved to block Erik's advance.
But Erik didn't slow.
He ran straight at them—then leapt.
Mid-air, he grabbed the caster by the hair.
He landed. Spun. Hurled the caster straight into the gate they'd come from. The impact echoed.
Before he turned around, he whipped a kick behind him—
CRACK!
Boot met jaw. Another shield broke.
Only one left.
Erik didn't move.
The last rookie hesitated—then charged, sword swinging left.
Erik ducked under the slash and slammed an uppercut into his chin.
BOOM.
Silence.
Yosul's voice came back, impressed and half-laughing. "Alright, damn! You're better than I thought—you finished them before I could even count to ten. We'll be increasing the number of participants for the next round."
"Anyone from this group you want to recommend?"
Erik glanced back at the motionless pile. "The caster."
"Got it. Next team will be out after cleanup."
A group of attendants rushed in, dragging the groaning rookies back through the gate.
Erik adjusted his cloak, stepped into the center of the arena, and waited.
"Entering second team!"