It had been two days since they left Terano. They had rested in a few travelers' cottages along the way, but this was the first real town they had entered since then.
Avilio's eyes widened as they passed through the gates. This place was unlike anything he had seen before. The town rose high into the sky, its towering buildings of steel and stone blotting out the sunlight. The streets below were alive with noise, filled with carriages, merchants, hunters, and ordinary folk hurrying about in a constant stream of motion.
Tora glanced at him with a faint grin. "Your first trial will take place here. But honestly? I doubt the Pupil Trials will give you much trouble."
Before heading to a rest house, they decided to eat first. The smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread pulled them toward a grand restaurant with a polished wooden sign swinging above its door. The letters read: Excuisa. Inside, the place was as fine as its name suggested gleaming wooden tables, chandeliers of polished bronze, and a hum of voices that made the whole room feel alive.
"This town," Tora explained as they found an empty table, "is one of the major centers for hunters. Always bustling with guilds and parties passing through. I'd say it's among the top ten towns you'll ever see on your journey. There's a vast forest at the outskirts, the sea on the other side… not just an economic hub, but a beautiful one too."
Though it was Tora's first visit here, his time studying maps had made him something of a walking journal, and he seemed eager to share every detail.
A young waitress soon approached with a polite smile. "What would you like to order, sirs?"
But before Avilio could answer, Tora raised a hand. "Hey, miss. What's with the commotion today? I knew this town would be busy, but the crowd outside is overwhelming."
The girl blinked in surprise. "Oh, you don't know? The northern cliffs have just been reopened. The kaiju that threatened the region has finally been dealt with. It's safe now, so people are setting out for the northern territories."
Avilio and Tora exchanged a sharp glance.
Avilio leaned forward. "Who took down the monster?"
The waitress tapped her chin, thinking. "It was a joint operation led by the Hunter Academy affiliated parties and a party called the Despaired Souls, I think."
The name hit Avilio like a hammer. His fingers tightened against the edge of the table, knuckles pale. For a moment, the chatter of the restaurant faded into a dull hum, his thoughts pulled back to the stories he had heard, to the people tied to that name.
"The Despaired Souls…" he repeated under his breath.
Tora caught the shift in his expression instantly. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only Avilio could hear. "You've remembered them, haven't you?"
Avilio didn't answer right away. His gaze dropped to the polished wooden surface of the table, as if the swirling grain might hold an explanation. Finally, he muttered, "They're not a party you forget."
The waitress, oblivious to the weight in his tone, smiled politely. "They're quite famous now. People say they've done what even the Academy couldn't, held the front lines in the west, slayed beasts no one else dared to face. Some call them top tiers already."
"Top," Avilio echoed, his voice edged with something sharper than admiration.
Tora leaned back, crossing his arms. His eyes studied Avilio carefully, but he let the silence stretch, choosing not to pry further. Instead, he turned to the waitress with a lighter tone. "In that case, miss, bring us your best meal. We'll need it."
She nodded, scribbling quickly on her notepad before hurrying off. The two sat in uneasy silence, the weight of the name still hanging in the air. Around them, laughter, clinking cups, and the shuffle of boots on the floor filled the restaurant, but it all felt distant.
When the plates arrived steaming bowls of stew, warm bread, and roasted meat, it was enough to distract them for a time. Hunger overtook conversation, and the food was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived.
At last, Tora broke the quiet. "Tomorrow, your first trial begins. Whatever shadows you're carrying, Avilio… leave them behind when you step into the field. The Pupil Trials aren't the place for hesitation."
Avilio met his gaze, steady now, as if the storm within him had been forced into calm. "Don't worry. I won't falter."
Yet, in the back of his mind, the name still echoed Despaired Souls, like a bell that refused to stop ringing. Tora also had no idea why he was so bothered by them.
The streets glowed faintly with lanterns as the duo left Excuisa. Evening had begun to settle, but the town showed no signs of slowing down. Hunters crowded every corner, carrying weapons, laughing loudly, or boasting about their hunts. The air buzzed with energy, a mix of excitement and arrogance that only hunters could produce.
By the time Avilio and Tora reached the rest house, they realized the problem. The building was already overflowing. Hunters leaned against the wooden railings outside, drinking straight from their flasks. Inside, the lobby was a storm of noise, boots thudding on the floorboards, mugs clattering on tables, voices overlapping in stories of battles and close calls.
Tora muttered, "Full house. Figures. With the cliffs opening, every stray hunter thinks they'll make their fortune."
Avilio's eyes scanned the room, sharp and silent. A woman with a bow strapped across her back barged past him without a glance, while two men argued over who got the last bottle of wine behind the counter. The innkeeper, a stout man with sweat glistening on his forehead, waved his arms frantically at the crowd.
"No more rooms! Don't ask me again! If you want a place to sleep, take the floorboards or the street!"
Tora stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. "Two beds. That's all we need. You must have something."
The innkeeper sighed, rubbing his temples. "I told you, no rooms left. Unless—" He glanced between them, lowering his voice. "There's a small attic room. Hardly any space. Barely a window. But if you don't mind cramming, it's yours."
"We'll take it," Avilio said immediately, before Tora could even respond.
A few coins exchanged hands, and soon they were led up a narrow staircase. The attic was exactly as described—dusty, with slanted walls that nearly touched the beds. Two thin mattresses lay opposite each other, and the only light came from a crack in the roof where the moon peeked through.
Tora threw his pack onto one mattress with a grunt. "Well, at least it's better than the street."
Avilio didn't answer. He sat down quietly, staring out of the small crack of light. The noise from the hunters below drifted up faintly, reminding them both how crowded the town had become.
After a long silence, Tora spoke again. "Tomorrow the trial starts. Look around, Avilio, half the people downstairs can probably be here for the same reason. Hunters in training, adventurers chasing glory. Not all of them will make it."
Avilio lay back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. His eyes traced the moonlight, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The name Despaired Souls surfaced again in his mind. Their shadow stretched even here, into a place packed with hunters and ambition.
"Not all of them will make it," he smirked softly. Then he closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day finally drag him toward sleep.
Tora glanced at him, then turned to the ceiling. The storm of laughter and chatter below was still going strong, but in their cramped little attic, a strange calm settled.
Morning broke with golden light slipping through the crack in the attic roof. The noise from downstairs had dulled into snores, groans, and the occasional thud of a drunk hunter stumbling out into the street.
Avilio stretched his arms, rolling off the thin mattress. Tora was already up, tightening his boots with practiced hands.
"Let's move. The trial center won't wait for stragglers," Tora said.
They descended the narrow staircase, stepping into the lobby now littered with empty mugs and slumped bodies. The smell of stale ale and sweat clung to the air.
As Avilio pushed open the inn's heavy door, he froze. On the steps outside, a boy no older than twelve or thirteen sat quietly. His clothes were worn, his shoes nearly falling apart, but what drew Avilio's attention wasn't the boy himself, it was the small bow resting against his leg and the quiver of arrows strapped across his back. The satchel beside him looked barely big enough to hold food for a day, yet his grip on the bow was firm, like it was the only thing keeping him steady.
The boy lifted his head. His eyes met Avilio's, and for a moment the street noise faded. There was no arrogance, no bravado, only a quiet determination in those young eyes, though his hands shook faintly as he adjusted the bowstring.
"What's wrong?" Tora's voice came from behind, impatient.
Avilio didn't answer. He just stared at the boy, as if he saw a reflection of something buried deep in himself. The boy quickly lowered his gaze, pretending to check his arrows, though Avilio could tell he was nervous about being watched.
Avilio finally turned away, muttering, "Nothing. Let's go."
The two stepped into the street, blending into the stream of hunters heading toward the trial center. But Avilio's thoughts refused to leave that sight behind. A kid with a bow. A kid ready to fight in a world that would chew him apart.
He clenched his fists slightly as the towering spires of the Hunter Trial Center rose into view, casting long shadows over the avenue.
For some reason, that boy's determined eyes weighed on him heavier than any trial that lay ahead.