The pale moonlight filtering through the window hadn't even faded when James awoke. He had barely slept the previous night, but the exhaustion was replaced by a cold, sharp alertness.
The heavy weight of the contract he had signed yesterday had become a driving force, pushing him to overcome his drowsiness. He was no longer heading to his routine practice; he was about to face his first real test.
He put on the new training suit, which still smelled of freshly dyed fabric, before quietly descending the wooden stairs toward the yard behind the bar.
The morning air was so cold it almost stung his skin. The leftover snow from the night before had turned the packed-earth yard completely white. But what surprised James wasn't the weather, but the two figures already waiting.
Brack stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a wall further away. His large frame in the shadows looked no different from an old bear awakening from hibernation, formidable and radiating a silent pressure. Ann was in the middle of the yard, moving her body lightly. Her posture was relaxed, yet brimming with a power ready to erupt at any moment.
When she saw James enter, Ann stopped her movements and turned to him. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips.
"Thought you wouldn't dare to show up," she greeted him teasingly, before her eyes flickered for a moment towards Brack, who remained still. She then turned back to James, her tone more serious. "Do your best."
She said only that, before nodding to Brack as a signal and jogging off along her usual training route, leaving James to face the old bear alone.
Silence fell for a moment, with only the sound of the wind rustling through the treetops. James could feel Brack's eyes on him. It was a gaze that was both assessing and pressuring. He watched Ann's figure slowly disappear into the dim twilight with a sense of wonder.
"She's also taking the hunter exam after this winter."
Brack's deep, gruff voice broke the silence. He stepped out from the shadows of the wall to stand before James.
The statement surprised James. He turned back to look at Brack. "Isn't she going to train with us?"
Brack stared deep into James's eyes, his expression placid yet as sharp as a blade. "She's strong enough," he said. "The exam won't be a problem for her... You should be worried about yourself."
Brack's words pierced James's thoughts like an icy dagger. It wasn't an insult, but a cold, undeniable truth. It was as if an invisible hand had just slapped him across the face.
The familiarity of training together every morning had created a thin illusion, obscuring the reality of just how different he and Ann were.
He had seen her as a friend and a training partner, almost forgetting that in reality… she was a prodigy.
The image of Ann on the first day he saw her train with Brack flashed back into his memory with vivid clarity. Her speed, almost too fast to follow; her movements, decisive and elegant, like an assassin's dance.
The truth was, he and she were not on the same level at all. And the training that was about to begin was the only way he could catch up.
"The foundation of a hunter isn't speed or strength, but the ability to stand while others fall. Today… I will teach you how to stand," Brack's powerful voice cut through James's jumbled thoughts.
Brack didn't waste any time. He walked to the center of the yard and lowered himself into a stance that looked simple yet was as firm as a rock mountain. "Follow me. Bend your knees, lower your hips, keep your back straight."
James obeyed, but as soon as he began to get into position, he felt resistance from every muscle.
Seeing his awkward posture, Brack walked over and lightly kicked James's ankle to adjust his position, before using his large, bear-like paw to press down hard on James's shoulders, forcing the boy's body down into the correct, yet excruciatingly painful, stance.
"Stay like that… until I say stop."
That was the final command before Brack walked back to the wall, crossed his arms, and watched him in silence.
The first minute passed slowly. Pain began to gnaw at James's thighs. By the fifth minute, his muscles were trembling like a fledgling bird. By the tenth minute, sweat began to bead on his forehead despite the freezing cold. His breathing became ragged.
The fourteen-year-old body was screaming in agony. It told him to give up, to collapse onto the cool, snowy ground. But the mind of a thirty-year-old man told him to grit his teeth and fight. He thought of the contract he had signed, the deadline for the hunter exam, and his own powerlessness in Alvia.
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain spreading through his body, focusing only on his own breathing, in and out.
An unknown amount of time passed. He only knew that the morning sun had begun to shine down.
And finally… he reached his limit.
James's knees gave out completely. He crumpled onto the snowy ground, his body shaking uncontrollably. Every muscle spasmed with an indescribable pain. He lay there, panting heavily, puffs of cold air escaping his mouth into the empty space above.
Brack walked over and stood beside him, looking down at James's exhausted form with a placid expression. No admiration, no pity.
"Tomorrow, pre-dawn. Same place," he said flatly. "Last longer than you did today."
With that, he turned and walked back into the bar, leaving James to lie alone in the snow with his body's defeat, yet with a renewed, blazing determination.
When some time had passed, James tried to push himself up, but every muscle trembled so much he couldn't.
Just then, the kitchen door opened with a soft creak. Frey, still looking a little pale and dressed in old sleepwear, stepped out with a wide yawn.
He had just woken up to prepare for the new day's kitchen work, but his still-sleepy eyes widened instantly when he saw his friend lying in a heap on the snowy ground.
"James! What are you doing sleeping out there!?" Frey yelled, rushing over in a panic. "Are you okay? Do you need help!?"
James looked up at his friend from the snowy ground. Despite the pain wracking his body, a dry smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Yeah…" he replied softly. "I think I do, Frey."
After Frey helped him back to his room and he had eaten the food and medicine Elen had prepared, his body slowly recovered from exhaustion, but the soreness in his muscles remained.
That evening, James didn't go down to help at the bar as usual. But he didn't just rest either.
He sat on the old wooden chair in his room under the flickering lamplight. His hands, still trembling slightly, carefully unrolled the old leather scroll Brack had given him two weeks ago.
It wasn't a beautiful textbook, but a hunter's field journal, filled with hurried handwriting, rough sketches of demons, and observations noted down from real experience. He began to read it intently, trying to absorb every letter.
'Shadow Wolf'... moves in packs, excellent camouflage in the dark. Weakness is fire and bright light… A lone hunter should not engage directly. Use torches or build a fire for protection…'Stone-Tusk Boar'... thick hide, immense charging power. Weakness is the underbelly and eyes, which have no armor… Do not confront in a confined space…
James read on, analyzing the information in his typical fashion. He knew well that the gap between him and Ann or other hunters wasn't just physical strength, but also this kind of "knowledge."
He buried his head in the journal, reading tirelessly. Though his body cried out for rest, his mind was more alert and thirsty for knowledge than ever before.
Until his eyelids grew too heavy to resist, James fell asleep, slumped over the table next to the still-burning lamp.