The sun had only just begun to rise when the cart rolled across the uneven stone path. Pale golden light streaked through the fog, outlining the silhouette of the forest in the distance. Each step Kiki took made the earth shudder faintly beneath her massive paws, carrying the caravan through the outer edge of the western district part of town.
Arah sat silently beside Kren, his head resting on his hand. Despite the early hour, he was already fully awake, unlike Kren, whose head would droop forward, then jolt up sharply each time sleep tried to claim him.
The streets were quieter out here, but not dead. A few early risers passed by, some who were hauling gear and others just out for air. Arah watched them with detached curiosity.
It didn't take them long to reach their destination.
The building in front of them loomed over them. It looked like a relic of an older age. It was huge, nearly rivaling the Titan Bank in scale, but without its polish or opulence. Instead of marble and gold, it was built from dark stone worn smooth by time. Ivy coiled around its upper walls, and its heavy wooden doors looked as though they hadn't been replaced in decades.
Kren jumped down from the cart and dismissed Kiki with a quick motion.
Arah frowned as he jumped down too, his eyes flicking back to the cart.
"Are you not worried someone might take it?"
Kren waved a lazy hand without even turning. "If someone has the skills to steal it, they won't bother with something as humble as my cart."
That didn't exactly clarify anything. Arah narrowed his eyes.
"What does that mean?"
Kren didn't answer. He turned, gave a casual glance toward the forest beside the building, then strode toward the door.
"Don't worry about it. No one's going to steal it."
What Arah had failed to notice was that a figure was lounging in the high branches of a tree nearby. A youth with messy blond hair, peeling grapes, and flicking seeds onto the ground. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, and his feet swung lazily.
"Soul Beast Masters and their senses… so damn unfair," he muttered, chuckling.
Inside, the atmosphere was nothing like the bank. Where the Titan Bank had been suffocatingly sterile, serious, and organized, this place buzzed with noise. Laughter echoed between the stone columns. Hunters argued, bragged, and shouted. People moved in and out, their armor clinking with every step. Someone even played a lute in the corner, completely out of tune.
Arah followed Kren to a desk far on the side.
At the front desk, buried under a mountain of parchment, was a short man with a tangled white beard, a slight bald head, and a monocle clinging precariously to his face. He had bags under his eyes and looked as though he hadn't slept in days.
Kren stepped forward and knocked on the desk.
"Yo, Basil."
The old man's head jerked up and fixed his tiny monocle.
"Kren?" His voice was dry, almost cracking from lack of use. But his face lit up as soon as he saw who had called him.
"Well, I'll be damned. What brings you here, old friend?"
"Is the audition still open?"
Basil began shuffling through stacks of paper.
"No, no... it ended three days ago. The next one's tomorrow morning. Want a ticket?"
Kren waved the offer off. "Nah. I'm not here for that. Came to submit something."
Basil raised a bushy eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What're you submitting?"
Kren grinned. "Managed to get my hands on some wooden monkey skin."
The old man froze.
"...Oh. Ohh. You don't mean the—"
"I do."
Their eyes met.
"...You thinking what I'm thinking?" Basil asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Kren's expression turned to disgust, and he recoiled slightly. "Ugh, no, old man. Whatever you're thinking, I'm not giving it to you for your pervy experiments. If you want it, you're gonna have to bid for it."
Basil clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Ever since you got married, you've become no fun at all."
Then his gaze shifted. He spotted Arah standing quietly at the side.
"Scratch that... you've had the time to get a side kid, haven't you?"
Kren nearly choked.
"H-he's not my son! Don't go starting rumors, old man!"
Basil blinked, then grinned.
Kren pointed at Arah as if defending himself in court.
"I brought him here to sign him up!"
Arah said nothing. He just watched the panic play out.
In the days he'd spent with Kren, he'd picked up on a few things. One of them was that the man was, despite his strength, terrified of his wife for whatever reason. Terrified enough that even a harmless joke... he hoped it was a joke, because he didn't look like Kren at all, really had him scrambling to defend his honor.
Kren straightened his shirt. "Can you help him out or not?"
Basil chuckled again and pushed aside some scrolls before he took one.
"Sure. Let's get him registered..."
The scroll looked old. Its edges were curled slightly, and faint runes shimmered along the margins like cooling embers.
"Read this," Basil said.
"These are the Association's terms. You break them, you're blacklisted, no exceptions."
Arah raised a brow but said nothing. He unrolled the parchment slowly.
Kren leaned closer behind him. "Blacklisted means you're cut off from everything the Hunter Association offers. Soul tools, discs, armor, and intel... heck, even access to merchant hubs in the outer cities."
Arah glanced at him briefly, catching the edge of something different in Kren's voice, seriousness. It was obvious that any of the things he mentioned were important, and he had no reason to get banned from it anyway if it could help him.
Basil glanced at Kren weirdly. It was quick and subtle, but Arah noticed it. The kind of look that asked, 'Why are you explaining something so obvious?'
Arah didn't know if it was due to the respect they held for each other, as Basil didn't comment on the odd behavior.
So Arah lowered his gaze and started reading.
The parchment was dense, packed with regulations. Most of it was what he expected—no fraud, no impersonation, no tampering with Association property. But a few lines stood out more than others.
[Do not steal, kill-steal, or interfere with your fellow hunters or unaffiliated civilian hunters within Red, Black, and neutral zones. Outside those zones, such disputes are unregulated.]
He blinked at that. It explained the terms in Kren's earlier contract. The inner zones were brutal, then.
He kept reading.
[Do not coerce or scam fellow hunters or civilians into underselling resources, especially rare beast materials.]
[Report any unusual beast movements, anomalies, or migration patterns observed within active zones.]
That last line gave him pause.
He frowned slightly, eyes lingering on the phrasing.
A quiet theory formed in the back of his mind. So dangerous beasts sometimes wandered into low-tier zones...he had to be even more careful when he ventured out.
It was also for the hunters to know what was in the area to avoid it if possible. It was a rule made to keep people alive.
Once he finished, he let out a quiet breath and glanced at the glowing runes at the bottom. It was the same kind he'd seen on Kren's bank contract.
Without hesitation, he called Athena forward and willed his name to be written.
He felt the familiar shift in him. In response, the ink shimmered, and then his name etched itself into the bottom of the scroll.
Basil stepped forward, plucked the parchment from Arah's hands, and slid it into a crystal orb embedded in the desk. The orb pulsed softly, its inner light flickering like a heartbeat.
A moment later, a quiet click sounded from beneath the desk. A hidden compartment was unlocked.
From it, Basil retrieved a card.
It was smaller than the one Arah had received at Titan Bank. Slimmer. Almost black, with a faint crimson edge.
"Right now," Basil said, tapping the surface, "this marks you as unawakened. When you awaken, it'll turn red, base-level active rank. After that, it evolves with your progress. Soul weapon, spirit beast, whatever path you take, it keeps track. As you progress, there are a lot of benefits the card offers."
Arah took the card and slid it into his coat without a word.
Then he spoke.
"When can I start going into the forest?"
Basil looked at him before glancing at Kren, who nodded in turn.
"You'll need to register at the junior counter. Most black cards, unawakened hunters, apply there. You fill out what kind of soul path you're on, and someone recruiting will pick you if it fits their formation. Usually takes about twelve hours."
Kren motioned across the room with a grin. "That's the one. Over there. Go on ahead, kid. I will be with you shortly."
Arah didn't reply. He crossed the hall and approached the counter.
A woman sat behind it, calm and unreadable. She didn't speak, just gestured toward a small crystal orb embedded in her desk.
Arah held his card over it.
The orb pulsed once.
"State your purpose and soul path," she said.
"Unawakened weapon soul master, applying for junior hunter recruitment," Arah replied.
She handed him a small metal tag. The number 317 was etched into its surface.
"Keep your card on you," she said. "When it vibrates, that means a party has requested you. Be back here no later than this afternoon to meet them."
Arah took the tag and stepped aside.
Now, there was nothing left to do but wait.