The first rays of sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Blackthorn Orphanage, casting long golden bands across the stone floor.
The vast dining hall remained immersed in absolute silence.
Long wooden tables filled the entire hall.
Hundreds of orphans remained seated.
No one spoke or looked away.
Hundreds of bowls steamed before them.
The only sound present was that of spoons striking wood.
Clack.
Clack.
At the far end of the hall...
Telvaris stood.
His hands clasped behind his back.
His golden gaze swept across every row.
A few steps behind him...
Éreon remained motionless.
His hands clasped behind his back.
Beside him...
Number Two held exactly the same posture.
By the door...
A veteran remained silent.
Like a statue.
The traces of the dawn training were visible.
One boy kept a trembling hand as he held his spoon.
Other children concealed bruises and controlled their breathing to endure the pain.
Even so...
No one dared slow their pace.
No one dared look to either side.
Because, in that place...
Even the smallest mistake carried a price.
The silence remained absolute.
Then...
CLIIING...
A spoon slipped from the fingers of one of the newcomers.
The metallic clang spread through the dining hall.
Every spoon stopped at the same time.
No one raised their head.
No one dared breathe louder.
The silence became even heavier.
The boy turned pale.
His body remained completely still.
Telvaris did not even need to raise his voice.
"Take him to the courtyard."
A brief pause.
"Until the bell announces the twelfth hour."
The veteran by the door immediately walked forward.
Not a single word was spoken.
The boy simply lowered his head.
And followed him.
Only the sound of their footsteps fading down the corridor echoed through the dining hall.
When the door closed...
CRRRR...
Clack.
Clack.
The spoons returned to the bowls.
As if nothing had happened.
Time passed in silence.
The sun slowly climbed above the stone walls.
The long golden beams stretched across the dining hall floor.
Then...
DOOOONG!
The first toll of the bell echoed throughout Blackthorn Orphanage.
DOOOONG!
Not a single orphan interrupted their meal.
DOOOONG!
The sound crossed corridors, dormitories, and courtyards.
DOOOONG!
The veterans remained motionless.
DOOOONG!
The final echo was still passing through the dining hall...
When every spoon stopped at the same time.
Silence once again dominated the hall.
Telvaris took a single step forward.
His hands remained clasped behind his back.
His golden eyes swept across the long rows of orphans.
"The bell announces the ninth hour."
His voice echoed through the dining hall.
Cold.
Precise.
"You have ten minutes to be present in the Training Hall."
A brief pause.
"Armed combat will begin at the end of that time."
No response came.
Telvaris turned toward the exit.
His footsteps broke the silence.
Toc.
Toc.
Éreon followed close behind him.
Number Two did the same.
The three crossed the dining hall.
Hundreds of orphans remained motionless.
Only when Telvaris reached the door...
His voice echoed once more.
Without looking back.
"Stand."
At that very instant...
Hundreds of chairs slid backward in perfect unison.
The sound of wood scraping against stone spread throughout the hall.
The orphans collected their bowls.
They silently walked to the long stone counters.
Every bowl was placed exactly where it belonged.
No conversation.
No unnecessary movement.
Only discipline.
Without looking back...
Telvaris left the dining hall.
The main corridor remained immersed in shadow while the sound of boots echoed between the ancient stone walls.
Toc.
Toc.
For a few moments...
Only silence accompanied them.
As they crossed one of the inner courtyards...
Telvaris interrupted his own steps for a brief instant.
His gaze shifted to the side.
At the center of the courtyard...
The punished newcomer remained standing.
His uniform was covered in dust, while blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and his breathing remained uneven.
In front of him...
A veteran maintained a firm stance.
A wooden sword rested in his hands.
Without any warning...
The weapon lashed forward.
THWACK!
The blow hit the boy's forearm.
The improvised sword slipped from his fingers.
Before he could retrieve it...
Another impact struck his abdomen.
The small body was thrown onto the stone ground.
"Get up."
The order came without the slightest change in tone.
The boy placed his hands on the ground.
His body trembled.
Even so...
He stood.
He resumed his guard.
As if pain were merely another stage of training.
Telvaris watched the scene for only a moment.
Then he resumed walking.
Not a single word was spoken.
Éreon followed close behind.
His gaze never left the corridor.
Number Two walked beside him.
His expression remained unchanged.
A short while later...
The three reached another wing of the building.
A heavy reinforced wooden door occupied the entire end of the corridor.
Deep blade marks covered its surface.
Telvaris pushed the door open.
CRRRR...
The Training Hall revealed itself before them.
The vast chamber was surrounded by racks filled with weapons: swords, katanas, spears, axes, bows, knives, and chains.
Every weapon was arranged with almost obsessive precision.
The walls displayed countless marks left by years of combat.
At the center of the hall...
Several training circles had been marked onto the stone floor.
A number of supervisors were already waiting in absolute silence.
Telvaris crossed the hall.
Toc.
Toc.
The sound of his boots echoed between the stone walls.
When he reached the center...
He stopped.
His hands remained clasped behind his back.
One step behind him...
Éreon stood to the right.
Number Two took his place on the left.
Behind the two...
The supervisors remained aligned in a single row.
Motionless.
In absolute silence.
Then...
The sound of hundreds of footsteps began echoing through the corridor.
At first distant.
Then...
Closer and closer.
Soon the orphans crossed the doorway in absolute silence.
None of them needed instructions.
Each walked directly to the place they already knew.
The rows began to take shape, long and perfectly aligned.
The veterans took the front positions.
Each maintaining exactly the same distance from the next.
Behind them, the older orphans repeated the formation without the slightest hesitation.
The newcomers remained at the rear.
They still carried the marks of the previous day's training.
Bruises.
Cuts.
Heavy breathing.
Even so...
Not one of them dared break formation.
Within moments...
The last row had formed.
Two hundred pairs of eyes remained fixed forward.
Before that wall of orphans...
Telvaris remained motionless.
Not a single word was spoken for several moments.
Soon his voice broke the silence.
"This morning's training will be conducted in pairs."
No one moved.
"You are permitted to injure your opponent."
A brief pause.
"Light and moderate injuries are part of the training."
A brief pause.
"Killing your opponent is not."
Silence once again dominated the hall.
"Deliberately lethal strikes will be punished."
No reaction.
Not even among the newcomers.
Telvaris continued.
"Choose your opponents."
For a brief moment...
No one moved.
Then...
The veterans took the first step.
Without hesitation.
Each walked directly toward the opponent they had chosen.
Behind them...
The older orphans repeated the same movement.
Within seconds...
The long rows gave way to one hundred pairs spread across the training circles.
Telvaris spoke again.
"Choose a weapon."
The orphans headed toward the weapon racks scattered throughout the hall.
Not a single hand hesitated.
Within moments...
Every weapon had found an owner.
The pairs returned to their respective circles.
Steel reflected the light streaming through the tall windows.
Telvaris's gaze swept across the hundred circles before him.
"One final warning."
"The fight ends when your opponent declares defeat..."
No one moved.
"When they are no longer capable of continuing..."
"Or when they are thrown out of the circle."
His golden eyes remained impassive.
"Those defeated before the first half hour of combat..."
"Will remain facing Number Two until the bell announces the thirteenth hour."
No reaction arose among the ranks.
Telvaris slightly raised his chin.
"Begin."
The silence lasted only an instant.
Then...
CLANG!
Steel met steel.
The first impact echoed through the hall.
CLANG!
Soon more blows followed.
Within seconds...
The hundred training circles had erupted into motion.
The minutes passed.
The pace of combat never slowed.
CLANG!
One sword deflected another, sending sparks bursting from the clash of steel.
CLANG!
A katana met a spear.
The impact reverberated throughout the hall.
Breathing grew heavier.
Sweat quietly ran down faces.
Some uniforms already bore small stains of blood.
Even so...
Not a single circle had stopped fighting.
Telvaris remained motionless.
His hands clasped behind his back.
His golden eyes slowly traveled from one circle to the next.
Watching mistakes.
Small deviations.
Poorly executed guards.
Unnecessary steps.
Hesitations.
Beside him...
Number Two remained in absolute silence.
Éreon remained motionless for a few moments.
His black eyes swept across the hall only once.
Then...
He turned.
Toc.
Toc.
His footsteps broke the constant rhythm of combat.
Telvaris's eyes shifted discreetly.
They followed Éreon's figure as he walked away.
The rest of the hall continued fighting.
CLANG.
CLANG.
"Where do you think you're going..."
His voice echoed without the slightest change in tone.
"Supervisor Alpha?"
Éreon did not answer.
He continued walking.
Toc.
Toc.
Two more steps.
A metallic glimmer quietly crossed Telvaris's golden eyes.
At that same instant...
The blades trembled in the orphans' hands.
Then...
A low hum spread through the hall.
The blades began to vibrate.
The metal seemed to yield to an invisible will.
The orphans stiffened.
The fights stopped almost at the same time.
None of them understood what was happening.
But all of them felt it.
The air had become heavier.
Éreon stopped walking.
He did not turn toward Telvaris.
His gaze merely swept across the dozens of vibrating weapons around him.
Telvaris's voice echoed.
Cold.
Controlled.
"The armed combat is not over."
CRRRR...
Before any reply could come...
The heavy door of the Training Hall opened.
A figure calmly crossed the entrance.
Black hair reached his neck, slightly disheveled.
Pale skin contrasted with dull gray eyes.
His gaze quickly swept over the still-vibrating blades.
The motionless orphans.
Then it found Telvaris.
Finally, his eyes settled on Éreon.
"Again..."
A sigh escaped his lips.
He ran a hand across the back of his neck.
"Éreon..."
"You really don't make anyone's life easier."
A brief pause.
"The Director is waiting for your report."
No response came.
Éreon simply resumed walking.
Toc.
Toc.
Before following him, the young man cast one last look toward Telvaris.
Then he turned and crossed the doorway right behind Éreon.
Telvaris's golden eyes remained fixed on the heavy door.
CRRRR...
It slowly closed.
Only when the final sound faded...
The faint metallic gleam vanished from his irises.
The blades grew still.
The hum ceased.
The invisible weight left the hall.
DOOOONG...
The bell echoed throughout Blackthorn Orphanage.
The sound crossed the stone walls.
Not a single word was spoken.
Number Two's gaze swept across the training circles.
Swords remained lowered.
Heavy breathing filled the hall.
Small drops of blood stained the stone.
But none of that held his attention.
Two hundred pairs of eyes remained fixed on Telvaris.
He took a single step forward.
"Supervisor Telvaris."
A brief pause.
"The bell announces the half hour past the ninth."
Telvaris remained motionless.
Only when Number Two's voice ceased...
Did his eyes once again sweep across the hall.
He straightened his posture.
Then he turned toward the orphans.
Not a single word was spoken for several moments.
Every gaze remained fixed on him.
Then...
His voice broke the silence.
"Weapons training is over."
Not one of the orphans moved.
Heavy breathing filled the hall.
Some discreetly wiped away the blood running down their faces.
Others remained motionless, still trying to understand what had happened.
Telvaris's gaze swept across the circles before him.
"During the past week..."
His voice remained cold.
Controlled.
"There was an order that was not announced to all of you."
No orphan answered.
Only silence remained.
"By order of the Director..."
"All Numbers will enter the Mountain."
The air itself seemed to change inside the hall.
A few gazes shifted discreetly.
But no one dared interrupt.
Telvaris continued.
"From the moment you cross its entrance..."
"The training will end."
"The instructions will end."
His gaze remained impassive.
"In the Mountain..."
"There will exist only what you are capable of doing to survive."
The silence became even heavier.
"Every decision will have a consequence."
"Every mistake will carry a price."
"From this moment onward..."
His gaze passed over the newcomers.
Then over the veterans.
"You are free to familiarize yourselves with the terrain."
"Make whatever preparations you consider necessary."
Telvaris's eyes remained cold.
"When the bell announces the eighteenth hour..."
"The Hunt will begin."
No further order was given.
Telvaris merely turned his gaze toward Number Two.
The young man held his gaze for a brief moment.
Then...
He nodded silently.
Telvaris turned toward the exit.
Toc.
Toc.
His footsteps echoed through the hall.
Two hundred pairs of eyes remained following his departure.
Not one of them dared move.
The heavy door of the Training Hall closed behind him.
CRRRR...
Only when the sound disappeared...
Number Two turned toward the orphans.
Meanwhile...
Telvaris continued advancing through the ancient corridors of Blackthorn Orphanage.
The sound of his boots echoed between the stone walls.
The narrow windows partially illuminated the corridor.
Sunlight streamed through the dust suspended in the air.
After a few moments...
He reached an older section of the building.
The stone walls gave way to large reinforced doors.
At the end of the corridor...
A single door remained closed.
Two crossed blades were engraved upon its surface.
Telvaris stopped before the door.
Before he could knock...
CRRRR...
The door opened.
Éreon appeared on the other side.
For a brief moment...
Éreon's black eyes met Telvaris's golden ones.
Only a brief silence remained between them.
Éreon looked away.
He walked past him.
Without saying a single word...
He continued on his way until he disappeared among the ancient stone walls.
Telvaris remained motionless for a moment.
Then he entered the office.
The room was spacious.
Ancient books lined the walls.
Maps of different regions lay spread across the tables.
At the far end...
A great window dominated nearly the entire wall.
Beyond the glass...
The Mountain rose above the orphanage walls.
Imposing.
Silent.
Before the window...
The Director stood.
His hands resting behind his back.
A cigar burned slowly between his fingers.
Smoke drifted upward as his gaze remained fixed on the Mountain.
Without turning...
"Is there a reason for this urgency, Telvaris?"
Telvaris maintained his posture.
His hands clasped behind his back.
"I came to request something before the Hunt begins."
The Director remained silent for a brief moment.
"Speak."
Telvaris's golden eyes remained fixed on him.
"I request that the twenty newcomers remain outside the Mountain during this Hunt."
The Director slowly drew on the cigar.
Only then did he answer.
"The order remains unchanged."
A brief pause.
"All Numbers will enter the Mountain."
Telvaris remained motionless.
His hands closed into fists behind his back.
"Who will lead this year's Hunt?"
The Director finally turned.
His eyes met Telvaris's.
"Supervisor Alpha will lead the Hunt."
The Director continued watching him.
Telvaris's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Sir..."
"The survival rate will be lower than in previous years."
The Director's gaze remained cold.
He slowly walked to the table.
"Do not forget where you are, Telvaris."
A brief pause.
"This place was not created to offer compassion."
His eyes remained fixed on him.
"Nor to allow feelings to interfere with the necessary decisions."
Telvaris remained motionless for a few moments.
Then he slightly lowered his head.
"Understood, sir."
Without saying anything else...
Telvaris turned.
His footsteps echoed through the office.
Toc.
Toc.
The door closed behind him.
CRRRR...
Silence once again filled the office.
The Director remained standing.
Only the smoke from the cigar continued filling the room.
His eyes returned to the Mountain beyond the window.