Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Episode 006 (2)
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"Looks like we're a bit late."
A plain half-mask covering about half his face and long, flowing black hair draped down his back.
With each step, a pair of broadswords of differing lengths clinked at his waist.
Kuhn wrinkled his nose slightly at the man's appearance.
...A senior instructor?
True to his guess, the newcomer was another senior instructor, leading a group of trainees from elsewhere.
Their numbers seemed similar to those from the third den, suggesting they were from a different den, not this one.
The reason Kuhn was certain he was a senior instructor was simple.
Though there were differences in appearance and weaponry, he too wore a half-mask covering roughly half his face.
It was subtly distinct from the regular instructors' masks.
There was no mistaking it.
Another senior instructor, huh?
He'd half-expected another's existence, but this was the first time facing one.
Out of habit, Kuhn's eyes scanned the man from head to toe.
It was a reflex from his hound days—sizing up an opponent's strength before engagement.
Skill level around the expert tier, like our senior instructor. Oddly elongated limbs and that mismatched pair of broadswords.
Unlike his earlier superficial glance, this was a piercing scrutiny.
Kuhn's sharp gaze dissected the approaching senior instructor.
Swordsmanship favoring tricks, technique, and flexibility over orthodox fundamentals...
As Kuhn coolly assessed the new senior instructor, the man drew near the third den trainees, his eyes gleaming blue through the mask as he spoke.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm the senior instructor of the fourth den."
Was it his imagination?
For a split second, the man's gaze lingered meaningfully over Kuhn's head.
Puzzled by it, Kuhn tilted his head and muttered.
Does he know me too?
It was less a guess and more a conviction. Meanwhile, the new senior instructor continued.
"Just call me the fourth senior instructor."
His voice was hearty but otherwise unremarkable.
Yet it carried an intimidating weight rivaling the third den senior instructor's.
A few trainees swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Gulp...
Perhaps finding their reactions amusing.
Teehee.
"...?"
Giggling leaked from the fourth den trainees behind him.
The fourth senior instructor introduced them.
"...And these are fellow Lion’s Den trainees—specifically, those from the fourth den under my charge. Get to know each other."
At "fourth den trainees," the third den group whipped their heads around.
Not content with stares, they glared fiercely.
Crackle!
Curiosity, rivalry, excitement, wariness—a volatile mix in their eyes.
The intensity made sparks seem to flicker at the corners of their glares.
Those are the fourth den guys?
They don't look like much.
What, third den? Bunch of doofuses.
Oh? Won't bow, huh?
You first!
And—
What's with that scrawny one?
Third den's so weak even a twig like that survived?
Feeling some eyes on him, Kuhn sighed softly.
...Sigh.
Just when life in the Lion’s Den was easing up, this shattered it.
Weary, he shook his head faintly.
...Tch.
Guessing why the senior instructors pitted third and fourth den trainees against each other now was easy.
No such thing as smooth sailing...
The trainee numbers had thinned drastically since the start.
Back when over a hundred crammed each den, scattering them made sense.
Now, with fewer, no need.
But...
That's not the whole reason.
Humans adapt, and nearly two years had passed since Lion’s Den began.
Even grueling training—enough time to grow familiar with peers and the atmosphere.
Time to refresh that vibe.
By facing new trainees?
Thorough... As Kuhn sneered, lips curling slyly—
"Everyone, focus!"
The third senior instructor stomped, bellowing amid the chaos.
The ground cracked like a spiderweb, his voice amplified by mana exploding outward.
Boom! Crackle—!
Rumble...
His boot left a deep imprint, shaking nearby trees.
Caught by the roar, both dens' eyes locked on him as he spoke lowly.
"As you know, from today, you'll enter one year of seclusion training."
"In that light, today's meeting is a little event to keep you on edge even inside the training ground!"
Voices clear as whispers in their ears—exactly as Kuhn predicted.
"One year—full year. The training ground doors stay shut, soundproofed. No voices escape. So...!"
Pausing, the senior instructor scanned the kids with chilling eyes before concluding.
"...If anyone wants to quit before entering, speak now."
.
.
His tone felt ominous, eerie.
Some trainees swallowed, eyes darting.
Gulp—.
Gauging others' reactions, like.
Typical seclusion risks: botched aura breathing driving one mad or crippled.
Or isolation breaking the mind in tight quarters.
For immature trainees, very real threats.
But...
Their eyes busily scanned not for their own resolve, but who might crack.
Well, expected.
All here had survived nearly two years in Lion’s Den.
Not just survived—passed the first trial, poised for seclusion.
Elite of elites, proud of their strength.
No one folding to that warning would've reached here anyway.
The third senior instructor snorted at their reactions.
"Good spirit. Of course..."
...how long it'll last is another story.
Seclusion's dark, lonely air would erode minds bit by bit.
And finishing didn't mean graduation.
If growth falls short...
Harsher trials awaited post-seclusion.
Even emerging intact won't be easy.
They might regret not quitting today.
Finishing his brief explanation, he raised his voice again.
"Then... open the entrance!"
At his command, regular instructors activated devices on the training ground's outer walls.
Click, click...
Groooaaaan—!
A roar kicked up sand, and beyond, instructors bellowed.
"Enter the training ground in called order, starting with...!!"
As all focused on the iron gates and voices, a whisper reached Kuhn's ear.
Aura voice.
A crude skill among aura practitioners: embedding voice in aura for targeted transmission, akin to message magic.
Despite "crude," versatile and demanding top-tier aura control.
The voice hitting his ear precisely made Kuhn flinch and turn.
The senior instructor stared back, lips moving under the mask.
The item I requested...?
Likely the "poison"—his reward requested from the Chief Administrator after passing the first trial.
The senior instructor continued tonelessly.
Kuhn's alias was called at the entrance.
"Ethan! Ethan, step forward!"
And—
An unexpected guest(?) arrived for Kuhn about a month later.
Shing...
The Disaster-Class Hunting Dog Has Returned 24