Chapter 52
Nille sat beneath the fifth floor of the hunting ground maze, the dim air pressing in as he checked the phone he'd been given. A new notification blinked from the bulletin rankings. He barely reacted. Fame never appealed to him, it felt like noise, a distraction from something far more important.
What drove Nille wasn't recognition, but a quiet, persistent need to prove himself, especially to his Granny Amparo. Following her path as a Babaylan wasn't just a choice; it was a promise. He wanted to become strong enough to make even the most malevolent Encantó hesitate, to instill fear in those who preyed on others the way she once did.
To some, that goal might seem simple, even shallow. But for Nille, it was deeply personal. It was about legacy, about honoring the woman who shaped him, and about carving his own place in a world where strength wasn't measured by fame, but by the courage to stand against what lurks in the dark.
Nille felt most alive when he hunted the vile Encantos. In those moments, everything became clear, his purpose, his strength, his place in the world. But it wasn't the hunt alone that drove him. It was what came after. Every time Granny Amparo embraced him after a mission, offering her quiet blessings before and after, it filled something deep within him. It made him feel seen… important.
More than anything, he wanted to make her proud.
The way she smiled at him, the small but meaningful thumbs-up she gave, it was enough to light his entire world. To others, it might seem like a simple, even naive desire. But for Nille, it was everything. He wasn't chasing fame or recognition from the world. He was chasing the approval of the only family he had ever known.
It was a humble, almost peculiar mindset, but it was honest. A young man, driven not by glory, but by love, quietly longing to be acknowledged by the one person who mattered most.
Nille carefully safeguarded the four items he had inherited from Granny Amparo. Among them, the Taeng-bituin, also known as the Buntala weapons, had proven invaluable in combat, their power reliable even in the most dangerous encounters. Yet it was Kaunake's scarf that supported him the most. More than just an artifact, it guided, stored, and analyzed, quietly becoming his most trusted companion.
Resting on the cold ground beneath the tunnel, Nille finally noticed something unsettling: the cave had no natural light at all. Yet he had been fighting without hesitation, moving through complete darkness as if his body had already adapted.
Through the scarf, he reviewed the data it had gathered. It had stored 441 core beads and accessed merchant regulations regarding their use and sale. The information was precise, core beads were vessels of spiritual energy, used by shamans to strengthen their own cores through assimilation and absorption. But there was a limit. No known artifact could fully process a core bead's total energy.
Because of this limitation, higher-level cores, those reaching level 100, were far more valuable. Even then, only about ten percent of their total energy could be absorbed. A core with a value of 100 could only grant a 10% increase, and even that depended heavily on the shaman's own capacity to contain such power. In some cases, multiple shamans could share that energy, each gaining only a fraction, often at great cost.
Lower-level core beads, typically ranging from level 1 to 20, had a different purpose. They were crushed and refined, then infused into weapons and items instead of being directly absorbed. It was a more efficient use of weaker cores, especially since malignant entities turned to ash upon death, leaving behind only these condensed remnants of power.
As Nille sat there in the darkness, surrounded by silence, he wasn't just resting, he was learning. Understanding the system that governed power meant understanding how to grow stronger. And for him, strength was never just about survival. It was about becoming worthy of the legacy he carried. then Nille asked regarding what he saw on his phone that his Spiritual rank is 16 he asked what were the conditions in increasing his SR, the scarf mention the SR Level id accumulated by absorbing 20 points of core beads so with those 5 years he has accumulated near 320 core beads
Nille asked the scarf if it could gather detailed information on the strongest shamans in the area. The response came quickly and without emotion. The strongest were the two deans, each holding an SR level of 70. Beneath them were the twelve elders at level 50, followed by the teachers ranging from levels 30 to 25. The elite group stood between levels 20 and 15, and among the students, only six had reached an SR level of 14.
Nille frowned as he listened.
"This place has a very complicated system… too many levels, ranks, and status nuances," he muttered. "Why is it so complex?"
But deep down, he already understood the answer.
It wasn't just complexity, it was structure. A system built to measure, control, and separate. Power determined position, and position determined value. The stronger you were, the higher you stood. The weaker you were, the further down you remained.
"It's just segregation," Nille said quietly. "A clean way to divide the strong from the weak."
To him, it felt all too familiar. In the outside world, poverty already created invisible walls—deciding who gets opportunities and who struggles to survive. And now, even here, in a place meant to train shamans, the same pattern repeated. Different rules, different metrics, but the same outcome.
Strength replaced wealth, but the gap remained.
And for someone like Nille, who had clawed his way forward with nothing but grit and purpose, it wasn't just frustrating, it was a reminder. That no matter the world, systems like these were rarely built to be fair.
They were built to maintain order… even if that order left people behind.
Nille felt the irritation settle in his chest, but he didn't let it take control. Life had always been complicated, even before shamans, rankings, or power ever became part of it. He could sit and eat nothing but sweet potatoes without complaint, because he remembered what it took for Granny Amparo to put even that on the table. He had seen the effort, the sacrifice, the quiet exhaustion she never showed him.
Deep down, Nille only wanted a simple life.
But growing up had taught him otherwise.
Whether mortal or supernatural, nothing existed freely. There were always rules, spoken or unspoken, governing how one earned the right to survive, to eat, to live comfortably. Strength, status, resources… they all played a part. He didn't like it. In fact, he hated it. But denying it wouldn't change anything.
"That's just life," he thought.
Even the Encantos, beings that seemed nearly immortal, weren't truly free. They still depended on something. They still needed nourishment, drawing from the spiritual energy of nature itself. No matter how powerful a being became, it was still bound to a system, to a source.
Nothing stood above that.
And as much as Nille wished things were simpler, he understood now, everything alive, human or otherwise, had to follow the same unyielding truth:
To live… you must take, earn, or be given something in return.
Nille let out a deep, heavy sigh, the sound echoing faintly through the hollow tunnel. The scarf resting around his shoulders registered the shift in his breathing, recognizing the familiar pattern, its master was thinking too much again. Nille had never liked that. He was, at his core, a simple person. The thrill of the hunt made him feel alive, the rush of adrenaline surging through his veins like fire—but it was never something he depended on to survive. It wasn't food. It wasn't purpose. It was just… a part of him. His bloodline, perhaps. A natural hunter. But even a hunter couldn't live on instinct and excitement alone.
Reality always came back in the simplest, most unavoidable way, he still needed to eat.
And here, there were no sweet potatoes waiting for him. No small comforts tied to memories of home. No quiet meals prepared through hard work and love. Just a system, cold, structured, and unyielding. Nille understood that now. This place operated on something far more rigid, a world fused between the old ways and something new, where everything had value, cost, and consequence. Even the room he temporarily occupied wasn't truly his. Now that he was fully awake to this world, he knew it would only be a matter of time before it changed, taken or replaced depending on where he stood in the system.
He exhaled slowly, grounding himself.
If this was the world he had stepped into, then he would have to move within it, not blindly, but with purpose.
"I need a clear path," Nille muttered under his breath. "Something direct."
His goals weren't complicated, but they were heavy. He needed to pay off his debt—and fast. He needed to rise in rank, not for fame, but for stability. And beyond all that, he wanted something simple yet distant: a comfortable, meaningful life. Not just for himself, but as proof. Proof that Granny Amparo's legacy didn't end with her. That everything she endured, everything she taught him, meant something.
That he could carry it forward.
"That I can make her proud… and build something of my own."
His hand lightly brushed against the scarf.
"Can you plan it?" he asked quietly. "A strict routine. Something that will let me hit all of these targets."
For a brief moment, there was silence, then the scarf responded, its tone steady and unwavering.
"Yes. I will comply."
And in that dark, silent tunnel, with no light and no certainty of what lay ahead, Nille finally felt something align, not hope, not comfort, but direction.
Nille gave a small, tired smile as he adjusted the scarf around his shoulders. "Thanks," he said quietly. "But… you'll have to be patient with me. I know I'm still lacking. I'm not experienced enough yet… and sometimes I don't make the most logical decisions." His voice carried no self-pity, just honesty. He understood his limits, and that understanding weighed on him more than any enemy ever could.
The scarf responded without hesitation, its tone calm and steady.
"No, Master Nille. Your actions and decisions fall within the expected parameters of your mortal age. What you perceive as shortcomings are not deficiencies, but stages. The answers you seek, along with the maturity you believe you lack, will come with time, just as Granny Amparo once said."
Nille fell silent after hearing that.
For a moment, the pressure he placed on himself eased. He had always felt the need to grow faster, to become stronger sooner, as if time itself was something he couldn't afford. But hearing those words, especially with Granny Amparo's wisdom echoed through them, grounded him.
Maybe he didn't have to rush everything.
Maybe becoming stronger wasn't just about power, but about growing into it, step by step, mistake by mistake.
"…Yeah," he muttered softly, almost to himself.
Then he straightened his posture, his eyes sharpening with quiet resolve.
"I'll get there."
Nille checked his phone and saw that it was already past nine. He exhaled lightly. That was enough for today, his body needed rest. Without wasting time, he stood and told the scarf to plot the fastest route back to his temporary accommodation.
As he moved upward through the tunnels, something had already changed. The areas he had cleared earlier were no longer empty. New passages had formed, and fresh waves of malignant spiders crawled out from the darkness, filling the maze once again as if the place itself refused to stay still. Nille narrowed his eyes but didn't slow down.
"This really is a good source of points… and money," he admitted under his breath.
Like before, anything that entered his range died. His movements were precise, efficient, no wasted motion, no hesitation. But unlike earlier, he didn't linger. He didn't chase. Anything beyond his reach, he ignored. The scarf adjusted his path constantly, calculating faster routes, cutting away unnecessary engagements. This time, Nille wasn't hunting, he was moving with purpose.
Half an hour later, he finally emerged from Sector 9 exit, suddenly his phone vibrated, because their is signal now, The ranking bulletin updated his record: from 441 confirmed kills to 561, and other related matters prompted his phone scene, Nille dash forward and just recall and back step his route, it was easy because their are interconnected underground train station near all the hunting ground,
At the same time, the scarf quietly continued processing the collected cores, optimizing what little energy could be absorbed. Nille barely glanced at the numbers. What mattered was that he was moving forward.
By the time he reached the dormitory, another notification appeared, his accommodation status had changed. He wasn't surprised. He had already expected it the moment Haruka Senzaki mentioned she was the one covering his stay, whether out of guilt or her own reasons. Nothing here came without conditions.
This place ran on systems.
And systems always adjusted.
Nille scarf adjusted to cover his lower face, as he walked, carefully avoiding direct angles of the countless CCTV cameras spread across the island city. He had no intention of drawing attention to himself. As much as possible, he wanted to remain unseen, just another face passing through, not someone people would remember.
But that anonymity was already beginning to slip.
Far above, the twelve elders had taken notice.
An irregular spike had appeared on the bulletin rankings, ID 72119770. A sudden jump from rank 95 to 93 within a single day, backed by a feat no one had anticipated. It wasn't just the numbers, it was the speed.
They couldn't interfere directly. Their role was to observe, to safeguard, to document.
And so they did.
Silently, they recorded everything, waiting for the right moment, hoping that when the time came, they could approach this unknown individual and bring him under their guidance.
Meanwhile, unaware of how closely he was being watched, Nille simply stepped into his room, his focus unchanged.
Rest.
Recover.
Then move again.
Nille didn't linger on anything else for long. What truly held his interest was the hunt, and the tasks that came with it. Vile Encantos were not enemies you could simply face head-on. They relied on deception, curses, and underhanded methods that made brute strength alone unreliable.
He understood that now.
If he wanted to survive, and win, he needed more than instinct and skill with a weapon. He needed knowledge. Understanding how curses worked, how illusions were formed, how spiritual energy was manipulated… those things mattered just as much as combat ability.
That realization settled his resolve.
Nille wasn't just going to grow stronger in battle. He would learn everything he could, both academically and through experience. Every mission, every encounter, every lesson, he would take all of it.
Because in a world where enemies didn't fight fair, strength alone was never enough.
Nille stepped into the dormitory office, the quiet contrast from the outside world settling around him. He approached the front desk and asked the dorm manager about his stay. The man behind the counter, an older figure, likely in his fifties, checked the records before giving a short nod.
"It's been confirmed," the manager said. "Your current room has been fully paid for one month under the institution's order. After that, you'll be responsible for the payments."
Nille expected as much. Nothing here lasted without cost.
He paused for a moment before asking another question. "Is it possible to lease land near the mountain range?"
The manager looked at him more carefully this time. "It's possible," he answered, "but not recommended. The elders strongly advise students to remain within the city."
He leaned back slightly, his tone turning more serious. "The mountain range is saturated with spiritual energy. It's not just terrain, it's territory. There are unseen, secluded Encantos… and other mythical creatures that don't take kindly to intrusion. We can't guarantee your safety out there."
"So it's not allowed?" Nille asked.
"It's not illegal," the manager clarified. "But new students and residents are advised to refrain from it. but some cases some can sign a waver regarding their choice "
"a few were able to live in the mountain range , maybe ask the right department regarding your question , but its possible."
Nille nodded, taking that in without argument. Then he shifted to something more immediate. "Are there any merchant shops nearby? I need to buy and sell items."
The old man gave a small nod. "There are plenty scattered across the city. You won't have trouble finding one."
Then he added, with a hint of emphasis, "But if you want reliability, it's better to deal with academy-certified merchants. Their prices are regulated, and transactions are safer."
Nille understood the implication, just because something existed didn't mean it could be trusted.
"Got it," he said simply.
With that, he turned and left the dorm reception desk, his mind already moving ahead—calculating, planning, and preparing for what came next.
Nille walked toward the elevator and pressed the top floor. His dorm room was located just in front of it, making the route simple and efficient. As the doors closed and the lift began its quiet ascent, the faint hum of machinery filled the silence. Around his neck, the scarf continued its work, steadily processing the collected core beads without interruption.
The ride felt longer than usual, not because of distance, but because the fatigue was beginning to settle in.
When the doors finally opened, Nille stepped out without hesitation and moved straight down the short hallway. Room 50A stood waiting. He raised his phone, and place it near the door handle, and with a soft confirmation tone, the door unlocked.
The moment he stepped inside, the tension holding his body together gave way.
A sudden wave of exhaustion pulled at him, heavy, unavoidable. His muscles ached, his mind dulled, and even standing felt like effort. The adrenaline that had carried him through the hunt had long faded, leaving only the weight of everything he had pushed through.
For the first time that day, Nille allowed himself to feel it.