The massive hall buzzed with whispers and unsteady breaths. Amelia stood at the front, beside the towering podium, a porcelain doll clutched in her arms. With her short stature, pink hair, and round eyes, she looked like a child—adorable, even.
But the illusion shattered the moment she smiled.
Rows of sharp, carnivorous teeth flashed beneath her lips, turning her innocent façade into something monstrous. Predatory. It wasn't just her smile. It was the way she stood there, completely at ease among strangers who looked at her with thinly veiled dread.
"She looks like a child... but she's a predator to her core."
Ares glanced at the man beside him, still trembling uncontrollably. He understood. That man had been in the same group as her. He knew.
Some still shivered after facing Kendrick. But Amelia? Amelia was something far worse.
She stepped forward, placed the doll gently on the podium, and took a breath.
"Brace for it," the man beside Ares muttered, clenching his eyes shut and plugging his ears.
Before Ares could react—
"HHHEEEEEELLLLLLLLOOOOOOO!!"
The sound tore through the air like an explosion. Pain lanced through Ares' skull as he dropped to his knees, palms slammed against his ears. His scream was swallowed by the sheer force of the soundwave. Others around him screamed too, their voices drowned beneath the sonic onslaught.
When the sound finally faded, it echoed around the chamber like thunder rolling across a canyon.
Ares gasped for breath. Blood trickled from his ears.
'What... the hell was that?' he thought in horror, staring at the floor.
He turned slightly. The man beside him was panting heavily—worn but somehow unharmed.
Ares tried to ask how, but Amelia's voice rang out again.
"Hi, everyone! I'm Amelia, and I'll be one of your instructors for now~ Let's all have fun together!" she said with a singsong tone, her smile returning—sharp and eerie.
Her demeanor echoed Nia's twisted cheerfulness, but there was something deeper, darker.
From the crowd, a mocking voice rang out.
"Hah! I didn't come here to be lectured by some brat."
The man—arrogant, loud, and clearly full of himself—crossed his arms and sneered.
A thick vein pulsed across Amelia's forehead. Her expression twitched with irritation as she slowly turned her head to the Superiors.
"Should I kill him?" she asked sweetly, though her fingers visibly twitched with anticipation.
"No. Don't be stupid, Amelia," a calm male voice replied.
A tall man with deep blue hair and eyes—his lower face hidden beneath a dark cloth—stepped forward. "General Halden wouldn't be happy if you did that."
At the mention of the name, Amelia flinched. A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. She wiped it quickly with her sleeve.
"O-Okay..." she mumbled.
The arrogant man smirked. "That's more like it. A child should know her place."
Amelia's knuckles clenched, her jaw twitching—but she didn't move.
Then, another figure stepped forward.
Silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, glinting under the lights like ice under the moon. Her silver pistol was still in her hand, and the tension in the room skyrocketed. Everyone thought she was going to shoot.
But instead, her voice rang out, firm and emotionless:
"Participant Halden. Restrain yourself."
The room froze in confusion. They expected violence—but none came. Even Halden blinked, surprised, before clicking his tongue in disappointment.
The silver-haired woman leaned toward Amelia, whispering something
"If you don't calm down... no cookies for dessert."
Amelia stiffened, then darted back to the line like a scolded child. The entire room was stunned.
The silver-haired lady turned toward the crowd, her piercing eyes sweeping over them like searchlights.
"Welcome, participants," she said coolly. "My name is Superior Liora. I'll also be one of your instructors—along with Amelia."
Her gaze sharpened.
"I expect you to treat us with the utmost loyalty and respect. I don't care where you come from. Out there, your name, your bloodline, your status mean nothing. Here... only power matters."
Her voice was as cold as steel, and it rang out with finality.
"This is a test," she continued. "Twenty of you will be selected to become elite hunters. But only one... only one will rise to become the Ultimate Hunter."
Silence.
Liora let the words hang in the air before continuing.
"Most of you are ranked B to E. A few of you may be A or even S. But don't let that inflate your ego."
She narrowed her eyes. "Because in this place, ranks mean nothing. Strength is not measured by letters. You never know how strong your opponent is—until they crush you."
Her words sank into their chests like lead.
Ares felt something stir inside him. A long-lost fire. Courage.
'I'll do whatever it takes to rise to the top.'
He clenched his fists, heart pounding with new resolve.
A cheer began to rise from the participants—a roar of hunger and drive.
But it died as quickly as it began when Liora's glowing eyes swept across them.
"Now that you're all properly motivated," she said, "let me show you something."
She snapped her fingers.
The doors behind the Superiors opened, and a group of soldiers stepped out. Two of them carried a crystal—massive, glowing, and pulsing with multicolored light. Blues, reds, greens—all swirling in a mesmerizing dance.
A table rose from the floor of the podium. The soldiers set the crystal down gently before stepping back.
Gasps echoed across the room.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Liora said with a smirk. "This... is the Heart Core of Vhala."
Silence.
Ares froze.
His eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.
No… not that name. Not that thing…
Images flashed in his mind—his mother's terrified scream, the massive serpent's jaws, and the blood…
Ares trembled on his seat.
Others looked uneasy, but none like him.
Who… is Vhala?