Hunnt and Pyro approached the receptionist, ready to officially register as hunters. The woman looked up from her ledger, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. She paused, studying Hunnt closely. Something in his appearance or manner seemed… off.
Hunnt held her gaze, waiting patiently, a small flicker of anticipation in his chest.
After a moment, she tilted her head, brow furrowed. "How old are you?" she asked.
"Eighteen," Hunnt replied calmly.
The receptionist blinked, her pen hovering over the ledger. Then she let out a small, sincere sigh. "I see…" she said gently. "I'm afraid we don't accept anyone older than fifteen to join the guild here in Ironvale."
Hunnt's chest tightened. His fingers clenched slightly at his sides, and a heavy weight settled over him. Eighteen… too old? His mind raced, disbelief flickering through his thoughts. Every step he had taken toward this moment, every lesson with Pyro, every fight, every early morning of training—it all felt like it had led to this door, and now it was firmly closed.
Pyro's ears twitched, and he stepped closer, brushing Hunnt's arm with his paw. The little gesture was enough to remind Hunnt that he wasn't alone, but it did little to ease the sting of rejection.
"Are you… from the countryside?" the receptionist asked, her tone softening. Hunnt nodded slowly. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly as understanding dawned.
"I understand now," she said kindly. "You've never been to a city guild before, have you?"
Hunnt shook his head. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, the first visible sign of the disappointment he tried to hide.
The receptionist leaned back, resting her elbows on the counter. "Here in Ironvale, we have strict rules. We don't accept anyone who simply wants to join the guild without prior training. There's an age limit and a requirement for proper apprenticeship."
She tapped the ledger lightly for emphasis. "To officially join the hunters' guild here, one of the following is necessary:
You must be a graduate of Sharps Academy, because their students have received proper training and have extensive knowledge of monsters and their ecology.
Or, you must be younger than fifteen, so you can be taught properly. Younger students are considered more receptive, able to learn faster and adapt to the responsibilities of a hunter.
At eighteen… you are already too old to enter either path. No exceptions are made."
Hunnt exhaled slowly, the weight of the rules settling into his chest. The disappointment burned, sharp and bitter. He had pictured himself walking through the guild doors with confidence, shaking hands, and officially beginning his journey alongside other hunters. Instead, he felt like a child peering into a world that was just beyond his reach.
Pyro nudged him again, softer this time, as if to say, Don't let it break you. Hunnt looked down at his companion, the familiar spark of determination flickering back. This isn't over. Not by a long shot.
The receptionist gave him a reassuring smile. "It's not that you lack potential. It's simply the way the guild works here. If you truly wish to become a hunter in Ironvale, there are other paths—apprenticeships, private training, or gaining experience elsewhere before attempting to join the guild officially."
Hunnt nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. Disappointment lingered, but it was tempered with resolve. Rules were rules, and the guild had theirs. This was not the end. It was a challenge—another obstacle to overcome on the path he had chosen.
Pyro stepped closer again, pressing against his side. We'll figure this out, his eyes seemed to say.
Earlier while waiting in the guild hall, Hunnt had overheard a group of hunters laughing heartily. One of them told a story: a few days ago, a villager had begged them to help kill a monster threatening their home. He almost agreed, but upon learning the villager had not issued a guild quest, he had ignored their pleas and left the village without a second thought. The villagers had cried and pleaded, but he never returned. A few days later, the hunter said, the village had been destroyed by the monster—no one survived. The hunters laughed at the tragedy.
Hunnt's hands clenched into fists, veins tightening in his neck. Pyro growled low, his tail stiff. Even the receptionist flinched at the story, her eyes darkening with concern. Hunnt's instincts screamed at him to confront the hunter, to demand justice.
He opened his mouth to march toward the laughing hunters, but the receptionist gently touched his shoulder. "It's better for you not to join this guild," she explained. "Some hunters here don't respect volunteers or hunts without guild approval. If you confront them now, it could end badly. Leave quietly. It's the wisest choice."
Hunnt's chest heaved with anger, but he forced himself to nod. His eyes burned as he glanced once at the hunters, rage simmering beneath the surface. He turned and left quietly, Pyro close at his side.
Outside the guild hall, the air was crisp with evening chill. The city's shadows stretched long across cobblestone streets. Pyro's ears twitched nervously. "Master… why did that hunter leave the village like that?" he asked, eyes wide.
Hunnt's jaw tightened, eyes hard and distant. "It's for recognition, Pyro," he said softly, voice tight with controlled fury. "He only hunts for acknowledgment, for pride, not for the people who needed him."
The sun dipped low, spilling gold and violet across the horizon as they stepped into the outskirts. The weight of the guild's rules, the hunter's laughter, and the destroyed village pressed heavily on Hunnt's chest.
"We'll camp here tonight," Hunnt finally said, voice low. He knelt to gather dry brush for a fire, Pyro watching silently. The crackle of flames and the faint scent of smoke filled the quiet air, contrasting sharply with the chaos and tragedy of the city they had left behind.
Hunnt stared into the fire, jaw tight, mind racing. The guild, the hunters… they failed the people. Their rules, their laughter… and now a village lies in ruin. Disappointment gnawed at him, but beneath it, a spark of determination burned fiercer.
Pyro rested his head against Hunnt's knee, tail flicking occasionally. "Master… do you think all hunters are like that?" he asked softly.
Hunnt's eyes softened slightly as he looked down at his companion. "No, Pyro. Not all. But those who care only for recognition, who hunt for pride and rules… they don't matter to the people who need us. That's why we do it differently. We fight for them, not for the guild, not for fame."
The fire crackled, and Hunnt gazed up at the stars, the weight of failure pressing against him but also forging resolve. He clenched his fists once more. "Tomorrow, we find another way. We'll hunt, protect, and earn our place—not for recognition, not for rules… but for those who have no one else."
That night, Hunnt and Pyro lay under the stars, the firelight dancing across their faces. The disappointment of the guild and the hunters burned in Hunnt's chest, but it also ignited a resolve that would shape the next steps of their journey.