The already hot air in the building was ready to boil us alive. Hotter still was the greatsword the boy had drawn, which was quite literally on fire. Relics like this one all had their own unique abilities. The crimson flame roared along the blade without dying out or spreading, illuminating Tino’s steely expression.
Avoiding all eyes, Rhuda and I began crawling towards the exit. I felt pitiful at that moment, but, more importantly, safe. I couldn’t say the same for all those taking part in the disturbing exchange behind me.
“Kill first, think later. Lizzy taught me that.”
“You asked for it, girly. Bring it on, but don’t think I’ll go easy on you!”
“Who do you think you’re messing with, huh?! Let’s take this outside, now!”
If they were to fight in public, the knights on patrol would find out in no time. The people out there were sensitive enough to hunter scandals as it was. If a civilian were caught in the cross fire, this pair would be neck-deep in trouble.
More voices egged them on, which I dreaded to think belonged to the Steps. The whole place was in total chaos.
“Have at him! Fight! Fight! Fight!”
“Don’t encourage them—”
A scream. Crude whistling and jeers. The utter turmoil. As we sneaked away towards the exit, someone finally cued Tino and the boy in to a brawl. I shuffled my knees as fast as they could, crawling away through the pain.
Just before I reached the exit, just when I thought I’d make it out of the danger zone alive, a blast of wind swept through the room. The hot air instantly dissipated, and I was thrown back onto my rear end by the gust. My hood slid off. Rhuda, who was following behind me, let out a short yelp.
A shadow was looming over me. My heart was pounding in my ears. Terrified, I lifted my head.
“When did you...?” Rhuda muttered in astonishment.
Eyes as clear as black diamonds stared silently down at me. They belonged to Tino, who should have been facing off against the loudmouthed boy. Her neatly trimmed hair swished as she came to a stop with her smooth, bare legs poised before me. Her expression was no longer icy, but puzzled.
“Um, can I help you?” Rhuda timidly asked.
Tino didn’t answer but spoke with an equally shaky voice. “What are you doing, master? How long have you been here?”
Ugh, I was gonna barf.
Let’s think back to when our dream began.
Having come of age at fifteen, the six of us teamed up as planned and tested our mettle by tackling a Level 1 treasure vault. Treasure vaults came in all shapes and sizes, ranked based on the location, difficulty of their traps, dangers, and available Relics. Level 1 vaults were the easiest of the bunch, a favorite among rookie hunters. They proved no match for us, hunters of endless dedication and years of rigorous training.
We had shot through our first treasure vault faster than any rookie party in history. But while our future as treasure hunters was becoming more concrete, I couldn’t deny my skills were lagging behind those of my friends. Truth be told, I’d always had an inkling throughout our training, but the realization came as a slap to the face when I was confronted with a real-life treasure vault. In fact, I felt as though I’d tripped and were falling into an endless pit.
Although the difference in our capabilities was no big deal at the time, I knew that in a few years I wouldn’t be able to keep up with their hunts. Amid my genius friends, I alone had as much talent as the average treasure hunter—and even that was giving myself too much credit. I was the poster child of dead weight.
At the same time, I also realized how far we were from equal. I might have been the same age and grown up in the same environment as my friends, but I was a drop of rain in a torrent of storms. Every one of my friends had a lot more mana than I had, was much stronger than I was, or possessed some other great talent. Even my sister had a knack for magic, when I had no knack at all. That we weren’t siblings by blood didn’t really matter; that disparity hurt the most.
The six of us had been friends for as long as I could remember. Even before hunting became our dream, we had always stuck together. We had our fair share of disagreements and fights, but we got along as well as any other friends. The town we’d grown up in was small enough that we felt pretty much like family.
Seeing as I, the weakest of the bunch, could see the stark difference in our skill and growth, no doubt everyone else saw it as well. The fact that they hadn’t mentioned it all those years was a testament to their kindness.
The night after we’d completed our first vault, we stayed at an inn for the first time, and I didn’t get a wink of sleep. Tears staining my pillow, I grappled all night long with the decision until I made up my mind: I would give it all up.
Treasure vaults were wrought with wealth and danger. Just as mana material—the building blocks of treasure vaults—generated Relics, they created living phantoms as adversaries to hunters who dared enter. I feared that, if I had stayed in the party, I would one day put all my friends in danger. If they would just leave me behind in the face of the inevitable, I wouldn’t have had a problem (other than with me dying, of course), but I knew they would never do that. Besides, I didn’t want to die.
Giving up on my lifelong dream was a bummer, but it sure beat endangering my friends. That said, my adventure would end with clearing a treasure vault for rookies, which would be a funny story in and of itself. I could look forward to my friends becoming hotshot hunters so that I could brag about once belonging to their party.
The next day, I gathered my friends together in the inn and explained to them why I was giving up on my dream. I’m pretty sure my eyes were tear-free after I’d cried them all out during the night.
Luke Sykol, the friend who’d inspired our journey all those years ago—who would later become an apprentice to the Sword Saint and be widely known for his versatile swordsmanship—spoke with just as much gravitas as I had. “You weren’t the only one thinking last night. Krai, since you don’t really have a role, you should be our leader.”
“Did you hear a word I just said?”
That had been the beginning and the end of me. My friends’ talents bloomed far more quickly and explosively than I had even anticipated, allowing them to conquer vault after vault of rapidly ascending levels. After just a year, I could no longer keep up with them, but I remained their leader for one simple reason—simply put, these guys were idiots. Even so, they were the most powerful idiots in the world.
My passion for hunting was soon seized by an all-consuming fear of death—a fear that I couldn’t overcome. I wanted to quit hunting then and there, not out of humility but out of pure dread. Nonetheless, I remained their leader.
And now, several years later, I was still the leader of this ever-rising, ever-growing band of freaks.