The soft light of dawn shone through the fine snowflakes that continued to fall in silence. The city of Felnia was now draped in a giant sheet of white silk. The clamor of the market was still asleep; there was only the distant, rhythmic crunch of a patrol guard's boots on the stone ground and the sound of a city beginning to stir from its slumber.
James stood by the window of his small room on the second floor of Cranewold Bar. The cold air from outside seeped through the cracks of the old wooden frame, touching his cheek, but within his chest, a certain warmth was building.
The past two weeks had molded his body, acclimatizing it to the rigors of bar work and relentless training. The muscles that were once weak had grown taut and firm. His breathing was steadier and deeper than before. He felt a change, not just in his external strength, but in an internal stability that was slowly taking root.
The night before, he had received his first wages, earned by his own sweat and toil in this world. The handful of copper and silver coins resting in the small cloth pouch beside his pillow might not have been a large sum, but they were a symbol of self-reliance, proof that he could stand on his own two feet even in an unfamiliar land.
He glanced down at the new clothes folded on a wooden chair – a thick woolen tunic for training, and two sets of durable work clothes that Ann had picked out for him, saying it was a kindness from Elen. A feeling of gratitude mixed with deep appreciation welled up in his heart.
In a world so cruel and full of danger, receiving small acts of kindness like this was like a guiding light in the darkness. James picked up the thick cloak and put it on. The warmth of the fabric drove away the morning chill, making him feel ready for the new day about to begin.
The training yard behind Cranewold Bar was covered in white snow. A thin layer of ice clung to the rough stone surface, making every step require twice the caution. James and Ann stood facing each other, the warm vapor of their breaths turning into white clouds in the frigid air.
"Today, we'll focus on balance and movement on unstable ground," Ann said, her large, round eyes assessing James. "The snow makes everything harder, but it's also a good test."
The training began with a run around the yard, as usual, but this time Ann increased her speed slightly, forcing James to be more conscious in adjusting his pace and controlling his breath.
The slippery snow forced him to keep his leg and core muscles tensed almost constantly to maintain balance. Every time his foot touched the ground, he tried to transfer his weight gently, just as Ann had taught him.
Before long, the back door of the bar opened, and the large figure of Brack Cranewold emerged. He stepped out, folded his arms, and leaned against the doorframe, his dark brown eyes silently observing their training.
Brack never taught James directly, but whenever he appeared, the atmosphere in the training yard would change. The intensity of Ann's training would noticeably increase, and the advice Brack shouted to his niece was always helpful to James.
"Ann! Your feet are still too heavy! Think you're stepping on duck eggs, not stomping the ground!" Brack's gruff voice boomed. "Movement on snow requires feeling, not just brute force!"
Ann acknowledged with a call and immediately adjusted her form. Her body became noticeably more fluid and light.
James took a deep breath, trying to memorize every detail of Ann's movements and every word from Brack. Even if he didn't understand it all, he felt he was slowly getting closer to something important.
The training ended when the late morning sun began to shine brightly. James sat down, panting slightly, soaked in sweat despite the freezing air. Ann handed him a water flask with a small smile at the corner of her lips.
Brack walked back into the bar without another word, but James caught his gaze before he disappeared. It wasn't a look of admiration, but it wasn't one of disdain either. It was simply an acknowledgment of his existence, of his struggle.
…
That afternoon, Cranewold Bar was rather quiet. Only a few regular customers were inside, seeking refuge from the cold and sipping cheap ale. James was behind the counter, helping Frey clean beer mugs.
The smell of oak from the beer barrels and the scent of dried herbs that Varena often hung in the corners of the bar blended into the place's unique aroma.
"You seem very serious about your training, James," Frey commented while wiping the last glass until it shone. A smile was still on his gaunt face, as always. "I see you out there every morning, bright and early. Never miss a day."
James returned a small smile. "I need to get stronger if I want to pass the hunter's exam." He placed the finished glass on the shelf. "Frey, I wanted to ask you something… about the rumors we talked about the other day. The missing people and the strange tracks near the city wall. Do you know anything more?"
Frey put down his cloth, his expression turning a little more serious. "Mm… I've heard a bit more."
He lowered his voice slightly, as if afraid someone might overhear. "Last night, a worker from the tannery who was heading home late said he saw a strange shadow flickering in a dark alley near the east wall. He said it didn't look like the shadow of a person or a normal animal. It moved fast and was… abnormally long."
James frowned. "Abnormally long?"
"Yes," Frey nodded. "And… about that rotten smell the villagers smelled in the forest outside the wall, someone from the Hunter's Association went to investigate. They didn't say much, just that it was an ordinary animal carcass. But the villagers who go to that area often don't believe it. They say the smell was different. It was mixed with the stench of blood."
"What do the high-level hunters in the city say? Has Brack mentioned any of this?" James asked, a sense of unease starting to form in his chest.
"Brack doesn't really talk about these things with us," Frey shook his head. "But I've noticed that lately, the hunters who come to the bar talk more about patrol missions outside the city. They're being more cautious, too."
Frey was quiet for a moment, looking out the window at the people bustling in the market. "Felnia is a relatively peaceful city, James, but that doesn't mean strange things never happen," he continued. "Lately, more people have been saying that some areas in Felnia's territory seem… not quite normal. Especially during the dark moon. They say the demons from the deep forest seem more restless, or they come closer to the city than before. And sometimes it affects the minds of the weak in the city, causing them to… change."
"Change?" James repeated.
"Well… they exhibit strange behavior. Some might talk nonsense, or see things, or sometimes have a temporary burst of unusual strength," Frey shrugged. "It mostly happens to those with weak bloodlines or unstable minds. But no one knows for sure what causes it. The Hunter's Association tries to keep these things quiet because they're afraid of causing a panic among the citizens."
Frey's words reminded James of plot points he had read before. "Abnormal behavior of people in the city." It seemed what Frey was describing was quite consistent with that information. He felt that an unseen threat might be closer than he thought. And becoming a hunter might not just be a way to understand his own power, but also to prepare to face the darkness that was creeping into Felnia.
That evening, after helping Frey prepare for the night rush in the kitchen, Brack sent James out to buy some herbs from a small shop in an alley not far from the bar.
It was a shop run by an old woman whom Brack often patronized because her herbs were of good quality and fairly priced.
James walked along the narrow path paved with uneven stones. The evening sun was weakening, casting long shadows of the old wooden buildings onto the snow, which was beginning to freeze again.
This alley was rather deserted, with only the sound of the cold wind whistling through the gaps between buildings and the soft sound of his own footsteps on the ground.
As he was about to turn into the next alley, his keener-than-average hearing caught a faint murmuring sound coming from a deserted tavern on his left. The sound was too soft for a normal person to notice at this distance, and there was something in its cadence that made him feel uneasy.
Following the sound, he saw a ruined tavern where one of the rotten wooden windows was slightly ajar. A dim light shone from within. James slowed his pace, his heart beginning to beat a little faster with a mixture of suspicion and apprehension.
He moved closer to the opposite wall as quietly as possible, peering through the gap in the window. He saw a gaunt man in tattered clothes, squatting in the middle of the empty room. His hand was drawing something on the dusty floor with a trembling finger.
James's nose wrinkled slightly at the faint smell of blood that wafted over. It seemed what the man was using to draw was not ink, but blood.
The man's mouth was mumbling incessantly. With his enhanced hearing, James could catch some of the words in the murmur.
Even if not all of it, they were words that sounded insane and horrifying. "…offering… master… it is near… blood…"
What sent a chill down James's spine even more than those words was who the man was talking to. He wasn't talking to himself, but to… the dark shadow that stretched across a corner of the room.
The shadow seemed to shift slightly, even though there was no light source to cause a shadow like that. James focused his concentration. The Void-Born Apex Bloodline within him vibrated faintly, making him sense that something was severely 'abnormal' about the man and that dark shadow.
It wasn't a clear energy, but a feeling of a 'distortion' of life, as if something that shouldn't be there was consuming the man's being from within. And perhaps… it was responding to his words with a voice too soft for even James to hear with his enhanced senses.
Suddenly, the man looked up. His eyes were wide and vacant, staring directly in James's direction, as if he had sensed being watched, even though James was sure he was well hidden in the shadows across the street.
A twisted smile appeared on the man's face.
James quickly looked away, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest. He hurried on towards the herb shop, trying to act as if nothing had happened, but the image of the man, the words he had heard, and the mysterious shadow were seared into his mind.
The feeling of 'abnormality' he had sensed from his bloodline lingered. It wasn't clear information, but a raw instinct that screamed of a hidden danger.
James bought the herbs and quickly returned to Cranewold Bar. He didn't tell anyone what he had seen. Not because he didn't trust them, but because he didn't know how to explain what he had seen and 'felt.' And he wasn't sure if it was just an illusion born from his own fatigue.
But deep down, he knew that what he had seen… was definitely not normal.
As James returned to the bar, he noticed Varena standing behind the counter. Her slender hands were slowly polishing a liquor glass. Her deep, violet-gray eyes looked at him steadily as he walked past to take the herbs to the kitchen.
"That alley… strange things always happen there," Varena said, her voice flat, but James felt the words were directed specifically at him. "Especially to people who aren't careful enough."
James stopped, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?"
Varena glanced at him, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly, almost a smile but not quite. An unreadable smile that never revealed any emotion. "Sometimes, not wondering, not seeking answers, is better for a small fry like you."
She returned her attention to the glass in her hand, leaving James to ponder her cryptic words.
He felt that Varena knew more than she was letting on, and her words were like both a warning and a challenge. But at the same time, he felt an invisible wall that prevented anyone from getting close to her true self.
That night, James tossed and turned on his hard bed in his small room. Frey's words about the "weak parts" of Felnia's territory, the image of the mysterious man in the deserted tavern that felt 'distorted' through his bloodline, and Varena's veiled words swirled endlessly in his head.
The peace he had started to get used to in Felnia now showed an invisible crack. It wasn't the safe city he had first thought.
Beneath the facade of the bustling market and the laughter in the bar, a certain darkness was quietly forming. And it seemed some people were aware of it, but chose to hide it or ignore it.
He sat up, looking out the window at the pale moonlight shining on the snow-covered rooftops. His desire to become a hunter grew stronger than ever before.
The only way he could stand firm in this dangerous world was to be prepared to face whatever came his way. Whether it was a visible demon, or a threat lurking in the shadows of Felnia. Survival was his main goal, and strength was the only tool he had to achieve it.
James's eyes shone with a resolute gleam. He clenched his fists. The fear was still there, but his determination was stronger. He would get stronger. He had to know what was happening in this city. And no matter what lay ahead, he would not be just a weak survivor anymore.