The Day of the Hunt
"Impressive. Did you kill all these desert wolves by yourself?"
One of the three approached Adel. He pulled a small waterskin from within his robes and offered it to him.
"……."
But Adel didn't drink. Unlike the other two, the man offering him water showed no hostility—he'd deliberately lifted his veil and unwound his turban to reveal his face. His deeply tanned skin from years under the sun, his beard, and his hawk-like sharp eyes embodied the perfect hunter.
Gal Black Crow, Nazan.
He was one of the few good people in Adel's life. The man who had first taught him how to hold a bow. But Nazan wasn't just good for that reason alone. Until his dying breath, he'd regretted the events of this day—the day he'd offered Adel water.
I'm sorry. I know better than anyone that there was no poison in the water you gave me, but this time I can't drink it.
Even after decades, Adel remembered this day from his childhood with crystal clarity. It was one of the most intense moments of his life.
Hien was disappointed when I eagerly accepted and gulped down the water you offered.
-Easily trusting. Not fit to survive the desert.
-……But he's just a child.
-Being young doesn't mean he can't become a hunter. Hunting in the desert is different. You can only trust yourself. Have the boy do menial tasks for the tribe.
Those words had sealed Adel's status among the clan. It wasn't until five years later that he caught Hien's eye again.
Adel had talent. Not just a little, but exceptional skill as a hunter. He had simply been too young back then, without opportunity. Too young even to recognize his own gifts.
But this time was different.
"Not bad. You know how to protect yourself."
As Adel refused the waterskin and simply watched, Hien eyed him with interest.
"Follow me."
With that single command, he turned away. Nazan removed his own robe and draped it over Adel. Then, as if proud, he lightly ruffled the boy's hair.
"You can drink now."
Adel glanced at the waterskin in Nazan's hand and swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Thud—
Thud—
Thud—
But he didn't drink. Instead, he followed silently behind Hien. The sound of footsteps crunching in the sand rang as loudly as his anticipation.
* * *
"This is the territory of the Ulan tribe. You'll live here from now on. My name is Nazan. And this is Muel."
The two who had brought Adel to the tribe led him into a small tent beside the massive dwelling of Hien himself.
Pour—
Muel filled a cup from a pitcher inside the tent and handed it to Adel.
"It's always the same cruel test. Water is more tempting than gold in the desert. Not something to pull on a ten-year-old."
Removing her face veil, Muel gulped water straight from the pitcher. Her eyes were black as deep abysses, and a sharp scar marred her left cheek from some blade. Lean yet sturdy, she brimmed with vitality.
"Thirteen."
Adel took a sip from the cup.
Muel smirked at his response.
"Right. I underestimated you. But you're not an adult yet. Doesn't mean I was wrong about the test."
She circled back to the trial once more.
"Keh keh, not bad at all. Worthy of catching Hien's eye. Muel, the test was harsh, but don't blame the patriarch. He doesn't turn away abandoned children, after all."
Nazan spoke up.
"Hunting is a cold business. You have to end lives with your own hands. And the desert is merciless—it steals lives. Better menial work than forcing it on someone unfit."
"That doesn't mean he's too young to become a hunter."
"What? Ha…… hahaha!!!"
Muel clutched her stomach and laughed at Adel's words.
"Hear that, Nazan? What this kid's saying. Better than kids born in the tribe."
She bent down to meet his gaze.
"I like you. If you survive the desert, I'll teach you hunting techniques myself."
"Thank you. It would be an honor to learn from the Red Moon of the South."
"You know me?"
"Even born in the central lands, no one hasn't heard of the Ulan tribe, hegemons of the southern desert."
"Indeed. As Hien said, you're an entertaining kid. Talking like you came here just to become a hunter."
Muel looked at him curiously. Adel met her gaze steadily, without flinching.
Tremble……
Her black eyes seemed ready to swallow him whole, exuding crushing pressure. His arms shook involuntarily, but he didn't look away.
"A real man."
The killing intent vanished.
Whew……
Adel knew well.
"Good. Very good."
Muel admired those who faced fear head-on. She believed overcoming terror was the prime virtue of a hunter. No need for explanations—Adel knew how to win them over.
In my past life, Muel didn't like me. She thought it was my fault that child died.
Adel gave a bitter smile. A memory he wanted to forget but couldn't. One he didn't want to admit, but on that day, he had indeed succumbed to fear.
But this time will be different.
He expected a strong bond with her in this life. And her power…… would become his.
"What's your name?"
"Adel."
"Nazan, the kid's young but he's got guts. Worth raising."
Nazan chuckled at Muel's words.
"Hearing you say that makes me want him too. Adel, with that spirit, Hien will take you in. Becoming a Jackal isn't bad, but if it's hunting, our Gal Black Crows are just as good."
Adel nodded silently instead of replying.
The Jackals led by Muel and the Gal Black Crows led by Nazan were the tribe's elite hunters.
They're strong, true. But Ulan's best is something else.
Hien's own hunting party, the Hundred Ghosts. In his past life, Adel had never come close.
Sorry to the two showing interest, but Adel had set his goal.
"Well, if the desert is harsh, the central lands are vicious. The desert sun steals lives, but there they steal from each other."
The continent's central region. Where Adel had once lived. Home to the nine kingdoms, locked in endless large and small wars—a true age of strife.
"Wars between kingdoms still rage, and countless orphans get dumped in the desert."
"Still better than that. Heard the second prince of Azal Kingdom died? Had some real guts on him…… but they say he died in his sleep. Ridiculous."
"Poison?"
"Nine times out of ten."
Nazan nodded.
"Even Azal, strongest of the nine kingdoms, is rotting from within."
"Yeah. Central folk don't know honor. If you're taking something, do it on the battlefield. Even against family."
Muel rinsed her mouth with water from the pitcher, as if cleansing filth.
Azal Kingdom…… Right. I paid no mind back then, but Mato Azal died at this time.
Azal's five brothers. The central wars stemmed partly from their throne struggles, dragging in other kingdoms. The place tied deepest to Adel—two of the remaining four had died by his hand.
"……."
The youngest brother, Karon Azal. In his past life, he'd unified the continent and founded an empire.
Not two, but three now.
Since Karon, who had tried to kill him, was now eliminated by his own hand before the regression.
Adel couldn't hide his bitterness.
I can leave it alone for now. The war drags on anyway. The central conflict lasts nearly ten years.
No rush. Brotherly feuds meant little to him now, but one thing nagged from Nazan's words.
If Mato Azal's already dead, his treasure's hidden too. It won't surface for five more years.
Karon's discovery of Mato Azal's treasure had given him the edge in the fratricide.
I need to claim it first.
Adel's eyes gleamed.
Bwoooooooo——!!!!
Then it came—a horn blast piercing their conversation from outside the tent.
"Oh, has time come already?"
"We'd better hurry."
"Kid, stay here. Unless Hien commands otherwise, you can rest for now."
"Consider it your reward for surviving the desert."
Nazan and Muel hastily gathered their gear and rushed out.
Bwoooooooo——!!!
The horn blared again, and chaos erupted outside. This wasn't an ordinary call. It signaled the day—and Adel knew its meaning better than anyone. The reason he'd chosen this moment for regression.
"The Day of the Hunt."
Adel closed his eyes briefly, as if reliving old memories. The Ulan tribe's festival. But for participating children, the harshest day.
The day to prove yourself as a hunter.
Adel stared ahead.
"The winner that day was…… Hien's eldest son, brother Merka."
Hien's seven children. Unlike his cold father—called the desert's firmament—eldest son Merka was beloved by all in the tribe. An excellent archer like any hunter, but it was always the massive greatsword on his back that felled monsters. His sturdy build proved he'd inherited his father's blood, excelling not just in hunting but hand-to-hand combat.
"Sorry, brother Merka."
In contrast, the small and frail Adel murmured softly.
"This time, I'll be the winner."
He opened the tent flap.