At Aqualis Sanctum, the fortified base and stronghold of the hunter association, a tense meeting was underway. Deep within its heart, behind layers of security, seven individuals sat around a long, polished round table.
These were not ordinary hunters. Each was known, respected, and feared in their own right. Yet among them was one man who did not belong, a hunter who should not have been there but was seated all the same.
The atmosphere was thick, the kind that weighed heavily on one’s shoulders. Six of the seated hunters wore the same dark uniforms, but each had something else wrapped around their arms: a distinct band with a single word embroidered on it...
The word seemed to almost radiate menace, its meaning echoing louder in the minds of those present than in the stitching itself. Only one figure lacked this band.
His attire was different, a full black outfit with his blade strapped neatly to his waist. He leaned back slightly, his sharp eyes darting across the room filled with both men and women.
Three men and three women made up the banded hunters. Each of them looked serious, disciplined, and battle-hardened, but their silence was heavy. Then, without warning, one of the men rose to his feet.
His presence commanded attention immediately. His gaze was stern, hardened by countless battles, like a veteran ready to deliver a war speech. His broad chest stretched against the uniform, his muscular frame pressing against the fabric though the elastic held firm.
His hair was short and green, combed backward with a few strands brushing against the nape of his neck. He scanned the faces at the table, letting the silence hang before clearing his throat.
"I know most of you are wondering why I called an A-ranked hunter to a meeting of double A-ranked hunters," the man said. His voice was deep, steady, and unwavering.
That’s right. In the association, rank divisions were carved deeply into the hierarchy. On the surface, all hunters were one family bound by blood, sweat, and missions. But the truth was more bitter.
The higher your rank, the more respect you commanded, and the less you mingled with those below you.
Rank dictated status, and status dictated how you were treated. Some of the higher-ranked hunters already wore looks of disdain, their eyes narrowed at the young man seated among them.
But Elijah, the A-ranked hunter in question, didn’t flinch. He didn’t shrink back or even acknowledge their hostility. He simply sat there, calm, his hand resting lightly on his sword’s hilt.
Meetings like these were common, but not cross-ranked. A-ranked hunters held their own gatherings. Double A-ranked hunters had theirs. And the S-ranked hunters—the pinnacle met with none but their own. Only in rare cases, under strict necessity, were the ranks crossed.
And now Elijah was here, brought in for a reason. He was the hunter who had recruited Max under the orders of the master, a role that already set him apart.
"But it is crucial for him to be here," the man continued, his eyes sweeping the room, "since most of what we are going to say relates directly to him."
"Fine. Spill it already. I need to take my squad out on a mission." One of the female hunters scoffed, her tone sharp as her lips curled in annoyance. She tapped her fingers against the table impatiently, her impatience radiating through her every gesture.
The others shifted but remained silent. Each of the six hunters at the table carried a sword, their weapons gleaming faintly under the white glow of the ceiling lights. All except for the man speaking.
He was different. His lack of a blade was not a weakness—it marked him as something else entirely. He was a hybrid, and by the authority in his voice and the way the others regarded him, he was a highly respected one.
"Right," he said with a nod, ignoring the female hunter’s irritation. "So as we all must have heard by now, demons have begun trickling back into our world after five hundred years of being sealed away."
"So?" another man asked from the opposite end of the table, his brow raised, his tone carrying the weight of arrogance.
The hybrid didn’t flinch. His voice dropped lower, almost solemn. "If you remember the history that was drilled into us... then you’ll recall the condition placed on the seal the dragons created to banish the demons."
A hush fell over the table. Even those who looked irritated moments ago seemed to stiffen, their eyes narrowing as the memory surfaced.
"That once a dragon is reborn, the seal would weaken and struggle to contain the demons until the dragon recast the seal again," another hunter replied firmly.
"Correct. So what does it mean for us right now?" the hybrid asked once more, his tone steady yet heavy with implication.
"That a dragon has appeared again. But so? I mean, the human race isn’t as weak and helpless as before. We’ve got kings, this association, and hybrids. Do you truly think we would need the help of a dragon?" another hunter asked, her brows knitting in skepticism.
"By the way, who is this dragon? Any lead on them?" a different hunter pressed curiously.
"And that’s exactly why I called Hunter Elijah here. He was tasked by the master to convince the dragon to join us once he is found." The hybrid paused, allowing his words to sink in. Google seaʀᴄh NovᴇlFire(.)nᴇt
"Honestly, I wouldn’t have been bothered, but troubling information just reached me. Aside from the first breach where a demon popped into our world, another has occurred.
Unfortunately, the demons are off the radar. No trace, no signal, nothing. Which is why I called Hunter Elijah here, to question him directly on where the dragon is." The hybrid turned sharply toward the A-ranked hunter.
The shift in focus was immediate. Every single hunter in the room turned their gaze toward Elijah, releasing a powerful aura that pressed down on him. The weight of it slightly suffocated him, forcing beads of sweat to gather on his forehead.
Elijah clenched his fists for a moment, but then steadied himself as the master’s words replayed in his mind.
"Yes, I know this association is like one big family, and I’m practically its leader. But there’s no way I can control every single individual.
I know that the dragon vessel is in the association as we speak, but it’s important that his identity remains a secret until he is strong enough to defend himself against those who will come for him," the master had said with conviction.
At that time, Elijah had raised a concern.
"But wouldn’t it be wiser to inform the others? If we do, everybody can collectively come together to protect him and allow him to grow stronger. That way, we’ll have a solid chance against the demons."
The master shook his head without hesitation. "I’m afraid not. I am a hundred percent sure that not everybody is happy about the dragon’s return, and they would do everything in their power to eliminate him.
The stronger he grows, the more the demons’ urge to strike intensifies, and likewise, the greater their desire to wage war against us becomes. I might be able to protect him here, but if even one of the kings gets involved, he is doomed."
Those words weighed heavily in Elijah’s heart as he lifted his head. Gathering courage, he rose to his feet.
"I’m sorry, but I have no lead on the dragon vessel," he said, his tone calm but firm. "Yes, the association tasked me to find him, but it’s proving difficult, especially with the constant calls to take down demons. But I assure you all, once I get any solid information, I will report it to the association straight away. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other urgent matters to attend to."
Before anyone could utter a word, Elijah vanished, leaving only a faint ripple of energy in the air. His sudden departure left the double A-ranked hunters stunned, exchanging looks of uncertainty and unease.
Meanwhile, the hybrid remained in place, his hands gripping tightly onto the back of the chair before him. His eyes flickered as they began to change, his jaw tensing as he ground his teeth together.
’Damn it,’ he cursed inwardly, his thoughts darkening.