Once we turned fifteen and became adults, as planned, the six of us formed a group and tested our skills several times in a Treasure Hall designated as Level 1.
Even calling it a single "Treasure Hall," their rankings varied based on location, the difficulty of their mechanisms, the threats within, and the Treasure Weapons obtainable.
The Level 1 ones were simple Treasure Halls meant for newbie Hunters. With the endless passion we held and having pushed through rigorous training, they were no match for us.
Having cleared a Treasure Hall faster than any rookie group before, we felt a certain confidence in our future as Treasure Hunters—yet I was certain that my own abilities were a league, perhaps two, behind the rest.
In truth, I'd vaguely noticed this even during training, but having it laid bare like this still felt like plummeting toward the bottom of an abyss.
Right now, that gap in ability was manageable, but within a few years, I wouldn't be able to keep up with their hunts. They were geniuses; even being generous, I possessed talent no greater than that of an average Treasure Hunter. I was nothing but dead weight.
In that moment, I understood from the depths of my heart for the first time.
We were not equal.
Even growing up in the same age, under similar circumstances, we were never equal.
Some possessed abundant magic power; others were inherently strong. Even among siblings, my younger sister had magical talent, while I had none. How frustrating that had been. Though, she was just my foster sister, not truly blood-related.
We were childhood friends. Best friends.
Long before we decided to become Hunters, we'd always moved about as a group. We had differing opinions, sometimes fought, but got along well enough. My hometown was a small town; they were practically family.
Even I, the weakest, could perceive the difference. Surely they all felt my lack of talent, my slow growth.
Yet, not a single one of them had ever mentioned it. That must have been out of their kindness.
And so, on the night we cleared our first Treasure Hall, alone in the inn room where I slept for the first time, I drenched my pillow and agonized all night—before deciding to give it all up myself.
Treasure Halls accumulate wealth and danger. Mana Material of high density generates Treasure Halls and Treasure Weapons, and at the same time, generates hostile illusions— Phantoms— that repel visitors.
If I continued as a Hunter, sooner or later my blunders would endanger the entire party. If they abandoned me when I messed up, I'd just die, which wasn't a huge problem (though it actually was), but they certainly wouldn't make that choice. Besides, I didn't want to die either.
Giving up my dream was humiliating, but risking my friends' lives was worse.
My adventure would end with clearing a beginner's Treasure Hall. But even that, depending on how you looked at it, was a story to tell, and when my friends became top-tier Hunters, I could boast of having once been part of their group.
The next day, I gathered everyone in the inn room and told them, with reasons, that I was giving up on being a Treasure Hunter.
The tears had already been shed the night before, so I probably wasn't crying.
Then, the very first friend, the one who had inspired us to pursue being Treasure Hunters—who would later become the sword saint's apprentice and gain renown for his versatile swordsmanship, Luke Saikol—looked at me with an earnestness that rivaled mine.
"I've been thinking seriously about it all night too, Kly, but since you don't really have a specific role, why don't you be the leader?"
"…Were you even listening to what I just said?"
That was both the beginning and the end of it all.
My friends' abilities far exceeded my expectations; they rapidly took on higher-level Treasure Halls.
I fell behind within just a single year, yet I remained the leader throughout. That was because they were idiots.
Idiots, but the strongest. My passion was quickly swallowed by the fear of "death" that I alone couldn't handle, and from that point on, I sincerely wanted to quit being a Hunter. Yet, I remained the leader.
And even now, years later, by circumstance, I still carried the role of leader amidst the ever-increasing hordes of monsters.
§ § § "Is that the rumored Mourning Specter member? He doesn't look strong at all? He was cowering, wasn't he?"
"Where has he been all this time? There was such a commotion."
"…That guy was just standing in the outer line behind me a moment ago…"
I could hear the whispers. It was my own fault.
I lay my upper body on the table belonging to the "Mourning Specter," letting my gaze wander vacantly.
None of the other members rarely came to events like this, so I had the spacious table to myself. In fact, all the others were out of the imperial capital on a Treasure Hall raid; they weren't here.
The concentration of stares was intense. I was hogging the attention of the entire room. Yet no one approached.
What did they expect me to do…? I just overslept and was a little late. So I had no choice but to leave!
It wasn't like they'd missed me anyway!
"So this is… solitude…"
I forced a cynical smile and let out a hollow laugh.
My stomach churned with pain. Among all the Hunters in this space, I was undoubtedly the physically weakest.
My attempt to flee the confrontation earlier wasn't entirely a joke. I was scared.
What would those people staring at me with suspicion think if they knew I wasn't just a member of the Mourning Specter, but its leader?
The only one who had actually dragged me to the table was Tinno Shade, her cheeks puffed out, glaring warningly at the whispering crowd. Her eyes were fierce.
"Mastaa, please don't mind them. I know your greatness better than anyone."
"Thanks to you, I'm currently suffering immense mental anguish."
Tinno Shade was one of my childhood friends' former followers—the disciple of Liliz Smart, that "Peerless Shadow," the genus-genocide monster who acted before thinking. Years ago, shortly after arriving in the imperial capital, she had taken a liking to Liliz for some reason and become her apprentice. When I helped establish the clan "Beginning Footprint" alongside several parties, including the "Holy Spirit's Children," she had followed along.
She revered Liliz as "Big Sister," and through that connection, called me "Master." She wasn't a party member, but was practically half a mascot for the "Mourning Specter." Somewhere along the way, she'd grown into one of the promising monster candidates, no longer suited for the mascot role.
Incidentally, the reason I was called "Master" was because I was both the leader of the "Mourning Specter" and the Clan Master of "Beginning Footprint."
To put it plainly, I was at the top of this monster collective. During the clan founding meeting, I'd just been absentmindedly agreeing with everything, and before I knew it, I'd been given a seat I never wanted. Just thinking about it made me want to puke.
"Why are you here? What about the hunt?"
To my question, Tinno grabbed my arm, shrunk back slightly, and looked up at me with a submissive expression. Her ingratiating gestures and short temper were clear bad influences from her master.
"…Because today, I heard that Master's 'Mourning Specter' was, well… looking for party members…"
"…I didn't say that. I just said I might show my face briefly…"
And even that was only because the clan's vice-master had scolded me, saying it was my idea, so I should show up at least once.
I did, in fact, make a habit of attending incognito as a customer each time.
Honestly, it was weird that people were making such a fuss over a vague rumor. But, if it drew a crowd, I might spread another rumor next time.
The Mourning Specter already had its members set, but there were other parties still searching for excellent ones.
I wouldn't be coming again, though. Next time… well, I wouldn't come again, period. Please get along without fighting.
Having made such a dramatic entrance, I was met with confusion, and no one approached. Taking advantage of that, I was chatting with Tinno when a good-looking guy from the next table sauntered over.
The crowd that had been keeping their distance parted like a curtain.
The man who wore the white uniform, made as an homage to the Imperial Army's dress uniform for all members of the clan, suited him better than anyone.
With golden, silky hair and friendly blue eyes, born and raised in the empire, he was indisputably one of the empire's strongest Hunters.
The hero. The champion. The leader of the "Holy Spirit's Children."
The one nicknamed "Silver Star Ten Thousand Thunders," a Level 7 certified Hunter—one of only five in the entire imperial capital. Ark Rodan.
He was also a rival to my childhood friends. An annoyingly perfect guy surrounded by cute girls.
What irritated me was that despite being insanely strong, he wasn't arrogant and was actually quite pleasant to be around. And the fact that his pleasantness irritated me made me realize my own pettiness, which only made me angrier. A vicious cycle.
"Kly, you're late. Did something happen?"
"…Nothing. Just overslept."
"Ahahahaha, as always, you're hilarious."
I didn't get what was funny, but Ark laughed heartily. It wasn't a joke.
"Don't get close to the Master. Your frivolity might be contagious."
"Ahahahahaha!"
Tinno was warning the handsome intruder. I didn't know what had tickled his fancy, but Ark was slapping the table and laughing even harder. That was actually scarier.
Though it was fine among us, I didn't think it was good for her to snap at just anyone. It was a complete failure of upbringing.
"Just thinking about a day like today made me so excited I couldn't sleep."
Anxious and restless, my eyes had stayed open until dawn. That was why I overslept.
There was no way I'd voluntarily appear before a bunch of short-tempered monsters I didn't know, unless the vice-master scared me into it.
In the Hunter world, strength was everything; despite being the "Master," my position was at the very bottom.
"Ah, so you were lurking in the shadows, evaluating the participants? …Isn't that cheating? Besides, the rule was supposed to be wearing a uniform, but you're not even wearing one, no insignia either."
"I told you I just overslept. Listen to people."
I didn't have time to prepare.
Ark narrowed his eyes, studying me intently. Even as a genius Hunter, he too often didn't listen to others. Hunters, fundamentally, did not listen to others.
I wasn't evaluating anything. I had no interest in other parties' member recruitment. We didn't need new members. My attendance today was purely ceremonial.
"Mastaa, this man is incredibly rude. Let's expel him from the clan."
"Ahahahaha, Tinno, you're always so entertaining!"
"If only everyone had a heart as broad as Ark's."
If Ark had been someone like Gregg or the boy Tinno had been confronting earlier, we'd have had about three fights by now.
Ark tried to pat the head of the glaring Tinno, but she dodged. Brave of him to try that with a little monster. She'd bite, so be careful.
I rarely went outside because I didn't want to be bothered, and when I did, I disguised myself. The most recognized face in this room was probably Ark's.
Several Hunters from inside and outside were watching us, but perhaps out of respect for Ark, none seemed inclined to join in. I hoped they'd chat with me until the recruitment was completely over.
"So, have you found any good members?"
My question drew Ark's attention. Even now, the "Holy Spirit" members were actively vetting hopefuls.
If he, the party leader, mentioned a name, a new member would be decided instantly. Even if not, a recommendation from a celebrity like Ark would make any Hunter desirable to any party.
Ark furrowed his brows with a troubled look, groaned for a while, then gave a slight shake of his head.
"…Honestly, it's tough. There are a few promising people, but whether they can keep up with the Treasure Halls we raid is—"
I couldn't help but widen my eyes at his words.
Of course. Monsters are born among monsters.
A Hunter's strength, for a certain reason, was proportional to the number of Treasure Halls they had cleared.
There was no way someone who could immediately be a fighting force in a party like the "Holy Spirit," which was continuously tackling high-difficulty Treasure Halls, could be found so easily. If they had that much skill, they'd have already made a name for themselves.
This was a place to find promising prospects. I almost felt sorry for the candidate members being toyed with by that incredibly high bar.
Ark's eyes sparkled. He asked in a gentle voice.
"And what about you, Kly? Did you find any good members?"
I had no idea, since I hadn't looked at all. I raised my head and looked around. A Hunter who met my gaze flinched, his expression tightening.
I locked eyes with Ruda, who was standing awkwardly near the wall. Next to her, Gregg's eyes went wide, his cheeks twitching with an indescribable expression.
The red-haired boy, who had been shouting challenges to everyone, was being restrained by the Footprint members, still baring his teeth.
Tinno's shoulders shook violently when I looked her way. She looked like she'd puke if she attracted attention.
"Hmm? Well, we're fine for members right now. But if I said we needed one, would you let us take them from you?"
Ark closed his eyes in thought for a moment at my flippant remark, then: "…Sure. I'll trust your word, Kly."
The entire room erupted in murmurs. Even within the same clan, what Hunter in any world would entrust their party member selection to another party? Especially to a promising party considered top-tier even among the imperial capital's rising stars.
"W-wait, Ark!?" a priestess girl from his party blurted out in a panic.
I straightened up, crossed my arms, and crossed my legs, striking a smug pose. A grin spread across my face.
"…Oh? Interesting. Anything goes?"
"…Just one person. We don't have the luxury of training many ourselves."
Ark swallowed. This guy really was broad-minded.
But a recommendation, huh? Interesting. That was a clever idea, Ark.
It was a good opportunity. It would generate buzz. And with buzz, even more Hunters would come to the next recruitment drive. I'd need to rent a bigger room.
The problem was, I had zero eye for talent.
The only things I'd noticed were some trash with a hint of potential, some interesting trash with decent Hunter experience, and some moderately strong but arrogant trash. It was hardly a lineup I could recommend to the "Holy Spirit," and I certainly didn't have the ability to discern latent potential.
Though I said anything went, if I carelessly recommended someone, it would breed friction.
The easiest route was to recommend a solo member from the Footprint. Our clan was excellent, so a certain level of skill was guaranteed.
My eyes happened to meet Tinno's. She blushed and fidgeted.
"Mastaa, that's wonderful. But I've already decided to follow you, so while I'm honored to be chosen, I will not be joining this fake handsome man's party. Please choose someone other than me."
"I'll have to check Liliz's teaching methods next time…"
My childhood friends had been long-time rivals of the "Holy Spirit's Children," and unlike the broad-minded "Holy Spirit," we were extremely petty.
For a while, I scanned the crowd for someone who looked decent, but couldn't spot anyone outstanding.
Despite my smug grin, I might have been better off admitting I couldn't find anyone.
But these monsters, watching me with such serious, probing eyes, were too amusing, so I couldn't help but adopt a mysterious air.
Frowning, I spoke with an expression that suggested deep thought.
Having completely lost my motivation as a Hunter, my current goal was, at least superficially, to appear hard-boiled, cool, and capable.
"Umm, let me see… There are some, but… I'll want them for my party eventually, so…"
"Hey!"
A hostile voice. The red-haired boy, who had been restrained by the Footprint members, had broken free and was now pointing a large finger directly at me. For a Level 4 certified Hunter, he certainly had strength.
"If you're going to bow your head and beg me that much! I, Gilbert Bush, might just deign to join!"
He shouted, out of breath. Gutsy kid. I might be weak, but a Level 4 Hunter should be nothing to Ark.
"Don't you have a party?"
"…That's got nothing to do with this!!"
Well, actually, it does.
I put my chin in my hand and studied the boy intently. He probably had talent. He had guts too. His rudeness and insolence could be trained out of him by Ark and the others. Statistics also suggested that extreme specialization often led to greater strength than balanced capability.
If I put him in the "Mourning Specter," he'd probably clash with the existing members and get killed, so thanks, but no. But this time, he'd be joining the "Holy Spirit," and I couldn't care less about Ark's troubles.
I clapped my hands loudly and smiled at the boy.
"What's your name?"
"…! Gilbert Bush! Gilbert of the 'Purgatory Sword'!"
The boy, Gilbert, almost flared up but barely controlled his emotions and shouted. The "Purgatory Sword" probably referred to the massive greatsword from a Treasure Hall that he carried on his back.
It wasn't a nickname. Hunters with nicknames were scarce even in this capital.
Ark was studying Gilbert with a serious expression. Honestly, even with his eye for talent, I think all he saw right now was an incredibly arrogant brat.
I clapped my hands together once more and spoke with a superior air.
"Very well, Gilbert. I'll recommend you to Ark. However, there's one condition."
"A condition…!?"
I had no eye for talent. To me, Ruda looked like trash with a spark of potential, Gregg looked like interesting trash, and the brat Gilbert looked like ignorant trash. But even that wasn't certain.
Having no eye for talent meant that no matter whom I chose, it came down to luck.
"Yes. Just one condition… 'Don't lose.' What do you think is most important for a Hunter? 'Victory.'"
Gilbert listened to my words with a skeptical expression. No, actually, every single person in the clan was listening intently.
I was just spouting nonsense, so don't worry… I felt like puking.
"If you lack that power, you'll eventually put your comrades in danger. So, show me that you 'don't lose.' By the way, since becoming a Hunter, I have never—lost."
"Wh—at!?"
Because I'd never fought. I'd never fought properly.
I had fled from every battle using every means available. Sometimes using my companions as shields, sometimes using power, using wealth.
Therefore, for this battle, I would use the same tactic.
I took off the gold ring on the little finger of my left hand and tossed it to Gilbert.
The ring was a "Finger Shot." A common item, but a Treasure Weapon from a Treasure Hall. Its power was nothing special, but it could fetch a decent price if bought with gold.
He caught it with his right hand, frowning.
I smiled and declared loudly: "I hereby declare to everyone present. I intend to recommend Gilbert, but if anyone can defeat him and take back this ring I've just given him, I will recommend *that* person to the 'Holy Spirit's Children.' Incidentally, the ring isn't much, but it is technically a Treasure Weapon. Even if you don't need the recommendation, if you take it, it's yours. Good luck!"
Ark let out a short whistle.
Tinno, who instantly grasped the situation, closed the distance to Gilbert in the blink of an eye and kicked him in the face.
Maintaining my forced smile, I stood up quietly, unnoticed by anyone.
—Now, time to flee.
§ § § This is the story of a hero.
The golden age of Treasure Hunters. An era when people sought wealth, glory, power—splendor.
The story of the "Mourning Specter," who found themselves as the sole spectators, watching as their childhood friends—shining talents who aimed for the pinnacle—and their like-minded clan comrades moved toward their dreams.