Suspicion Among Brothers
"He's a kid brought from the desert. It's not strange at all. Lord Hien occasionally brings back abandoned children."
"True. It's just odd for such a cold father to do something that doesn't suit him."
"He's cold, but not heartless."
"Is that so? Most of the kids he takes in end up as lowly laborers doing odd jobs. It always seemed like he was just trying to save money instead of buying them from slave traders."
Merka sneered at Nazan's words.
"Remember that among those kids are your brothers. They're all exceptional."
"But we don't know if this kid is. For some thunderbolt-headed nobody who hasn't proven himself, to halt Hunt Day? It makes no sense!"
'He's got a real grudge stuck in his craw.'
To Adel, he was like a brother with nothing but good memories. But it seemed his own intrusion had given Merka a starting point far different from Adel's recollections.
"Lord Nazan, Merka's right. It's not strange for Lord Hien to bring in kids, but for a central punk who's been here less than a day to join the ritual? That's weird."
"Exactly. On Hunt Day, no less!"
"Letting a guy like that into the ritual without any restrictions? Ridiculous!"
"Yeah, yeah!"
Behind Merka stood two more. They were much smaller than him, but their trained bodies looked quite agile.
"Magan, Ur. You two are light on your feet, but your mouths are even lighter. Don't make a fuss. It's Lord Hien's decision."
Adel eyed them as he listened to Nazan.
"What're you looking at, punk?"
"Eyes down, bitch."
The two snarled at Adel with intimidation, but for some reason, seeing them made Adel chuckle.
'They're alive.'
No, of course they were. It was natural. Those two had died resisting fiercely in Uljen Gorge when the Azal Kingdom invaded the south near the end of the Central War.
'Fierce as beasts, unpredictable where they'll dart, but useful in their own way.'
The war was still ongoing, and the Empire hadn't even formed yet, but seeing them, Adel let out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he was holding.
"Oh? Sighing now?"
Magan glared with a growl, but Adel patted his shoulder instead.
"You should train more with daggers. Looks like your archery sucks."
"...What?"
Magan couldn't hide his bewilderment at Adel's words.
"Y-You little shit, what do you know?!"
Buuuung—!!
Magan swung a fist at Adel. Adel dodged by a paper's width, then used the momentum to trip him with a foot sweep.
"...?!"
Merka couldn't help but be surprised. Among the Hunt Day participants, Magan ranked fairly high as a hunter. Of course, Hunt Day was only for kids three years post-adulthood ceremony, so by adult standards, he was still lacking.
"Wh-What did you do?!"
But among peers, few in the tribe—including Merka—could beat him.
"Nothing. Just tripped you. Being light is good, but this is paper-thin. Hard to even throw a dagger like this."
"You little... "
Nazan watched the kids' scuffle with interest, shrugging as if to say go ahead.
"Stop."
Shring— A sharp sword's edge gleamed.
"Merka."
Nazan frowned at him. Fisticuffs were kids' play, but drawing a sword changed things.
"Magan, everyone knows your archery's the worst in the tribe."
"B-Brother!"
Magan flushed at Merka's words, but he knew it wasn't a joke defending Adel.
"But a guy you just rescued from the central lands today wouldn't know that. Who sent you?"
His suspicion was justified.
"I saw your hands. Archers have distinctive calluses on their joints. You do too. But this guy's got none."
Magan flushed again at Adel's words.
"Instead, calluses on his palms. Means he's gripped something more than drawing a bowstring. Like a sword, maybe."
'He noticed that...?'
'What kind of eyes does this guy have?'
Magan and Ur couldn't hide their shock.
"Just guessed daggers since you're light on your feet like him, not a greatsword. My speculation, anyway."
Everyone there knew every word from Adel was spot on.
"Sharp eyes. But I wonder if his skills match. Rituals aren't won with eyesight."
Merka still eyed Adel warily.
"Adel took down multiple desert wolves alone with just a dagger. He's not tribe yet, but a fine hunter."
"Desert wolves?"
Magan and Ur exchanged stiff glances at Nazan's words.
"Not a dagger—a kitchen knife. Stolen from the butcher."
"I could take desert wolves barehanded. No need to hype this outsider in front of us, Nazan."
Merka smirked at Adel's words.
"We'll see if he comes back alive."
"Whew..."
After Merka left, Adel exhaled lowly.
"What's with the sigh from a troublemaker like you?"
"Nerves."
"Nerves? Scared? Makes sense, picking fights with the chief's sons now. If you pass the ritual, he might become your brother."
The ritual wasn't just for tribe membership—it selected Hien's children too. The capable became his sons. Radical compared to bloodline-obsessed central kingdoms.
But few challenged it. Even tribe-born, trained kids died in droves.
"Be glad Merka's decent. He's strong. One of the few hunters with a God's Blessing at his age."
God's Blessing.
A blessing only for the chosen. Gods drew power from believers, granting it back via contracts. That was the blessing, letting recipients surpass human limits.
"Merka has the low god of the hunt, Kindel's blessing. At just eighteen. Might commune with a mid god before twenty."
Nazan eyed Adel as he spoke.
"That impressive?"
"Of course. Even a low hunt god makes you a great hunter. Mid god? Solo giant beasts. High god..."
Nazan shrugged at Adel's question.
"Who knows. Ancient beasts or even top-tier dragons, maybe."
"Dragons... Impressive."
"When we met you, we were heading back from dragon hunting. Lord Hien took it down."
Nazan said proudly.
"He's contracted to a high god of the hunt. Only one can contract a high god. Immense blessing."
"I see."
"A commoner like you wouldn't know how amazing that is."
Adel gave a wry smile at Nazan's reply. He wouldn't know Adel had slain twenty such high god contractors in one go.
"Not why I'm nervous."
"Then what, scared of the ritual now? It's tough enough that even the fearful can survive."
"I know. Not that either."
Adel nodded. He wasn't answering, but it wasn't ritual fear—or Merka.
He anticipated something else.
'The ritual must be done alone. Meaning... my one chance to be truly free here.'
Ulan's ritual was simple but brutal: Hunt the monstrous insect Kurukwi inhabiting Maia Pass to the west.
Kurukwi resembled centipedes, their exoskeletons hard as minerals—ordinary blades couldn't scratch them. Weak points: joints at neck and tail. Had to pierce with sharp arrow or blade in one go.
'A true hunter's trial.'
Inevitable fate. Skip from fear, and you'd labor in the tribe—but never hunt.
"Could've lived safe keeping quiet... Lord Hien brought a wild one. Saw potential when you took those wolves, though."
Nazan swapped Adel's rags for sturdy leather gear and boots.
"From the central lands, you don't know deserts. Days scorch, nights don't. Especially Maia Pass nights—freezing mad."
He handed Adel a few small stones.
"Don't use anytime. Only after sunset. Or you won't see dawn."
"Thanks."
"I'll tune your bow. Arrows too."
Adel felt anew: Nazan was as good as ever, even in this life. He needed those heat stones badly.
Not just for cold.
'Maia Pass's hidden spot.'
Preparation for that.
"Nazan."
Adel called as he worked the bow.
"What?"
"What if someone contracts a god higher than high gods?"
He asked casually.
"Haha, craving a God's Blessing? Natural for hunters."
Nazan's shoulders shook with laughter.
"Higher than high gods? Ancient gods? Don't even dream."
He laughed as if absurd.
"Ambitious. Wherever you heard that nonsense, no gods above high now. Ancient gods vanished long ago."
"...Is that so?"
'Maia Pass's hidden spot.'
An ancient god was there.