Chapter 15 : Mask Of The Red Death – (1)

The Next Day, at the Training Grounds.

“Hello, good morning, Sir Aiden.”

Sophia, who had grown quite close to me before I knew it, greeted me warmly.

But her demeanor was quite different from yesterday.

“Are… you okay?”

Sophia’s face was covered in bruises.

And that wasn’t all—her hair had been pulled out in places, and her clothes were even more torn than before, now barely resembling rags.

“Yes, I’m fine. Actually, it’s all thanks to you, Sir Aiden.”

“T-Thanks to me?”

I looked at Sophia, taken aback.

Her body was clearly battered and bruised—it was obvious something bad had happened.

I started to worry she’d been severely beaten by her fellow trainees.

But despite her condition, Sophia’s expression was bright.

Oddly bright.

She even looked somewhat relieved.

“Thanks to your advice, my fellow trainees don’t bully me anymore.”

“…Because of my advice?”

“Yes! Thank you so much!”

I glanced to the side.

And only then did I realize the source of the strange sense of unease I’d been feeling.

The training ground, which normally held fifty trainees, only had forty-three present.

Seven were missing—and they were all women.

That’s when I finally realized what Sophia had done.

“You fought them?”

“Yes. I don’t have much talent, so it was hard, but I used everything I had.”

“…Hmm.”

It showed.

The injuries on Sophia’s body were quite severe.

It must’ve been a serious fight.

The absence of the seven female trainees was probably the fallout.

“Sir Aiden, I feel like I see the world differently now, thanks to you.”

That evening, I overheard a disturbing rumor circulating in the training center.

—”Hey, have you heard of the Bag Girl?”

—“Who’s the Bag Girl?”

—“I don’t know. But apparently, there’s a new recruit—a small girl—who stuffed her fellow trainees into garbage bags and beat them half to death. The guild hunters found them with broken arms and legs, covered in trash and completely unrecognizable. One girl named Bella still hasn’t recovered. She keeps vomiting, and apparently bits of garbage keep coming out.”

—“That’s terrifying…”

—“Seriously. What’s wrong with this year’s recruits?”

Correction.

It seems I’m not cut out to be a great teacher.

Because I accidentally created a mad dog.

Whether or not Sophia really was the Bag Girl, I had grown quite close to her.

Maybe because she no longer got beaten up, Sophia’s complexion had improved noticeably.

She no longer walked around covered in filth, and her messy hair was now neatly tied up.

She looked so much better.

I was quietly impressed—Sophia was a lovely girl, with chestnut hair and green eyes.

“It’s like a dream. I never imagined life here could become so easy…”

Sophia was the first friend I made at the training center.

We spent most of our time together—eating meals, studying in the library during our free time after training.

To my surprise, Sophia was fluent in reading and writing.

“My father was actually a merchant. I’m pretty good at math too.”

Most trainees at the center, like me, were street urchins with stiff minds.

In that sense, Sophia was something of a genius.

I learned to read and write from her in the evenings, while I taught her physical training in the mornings.

We moved around freely, unbothered by rules or the watchful eyes of senior trainees.

A demon recommended by the priest, and the Bag Girl of Dormitory 3.

Our combination was like a hornet’s nest, and not many dared to poke it.

Thus, I was gradually settling into life at the training center.

It was around that time—

“Hahaha. What a mess you look like.”

Camilla, having finished a hunt, returned to the guild.

“Senior Camilla, was the hunt successful?”

“The priest handled it well. I just helped out a bit.”

As soon as she returned, Camilla came to find me.

She must’ve heard the grim rumors spreading around the training center—and that I lived alone.

Though her tone was blunt, Camilla was a thoughtful senior.

“Hey, I heard the story. You really did a number on that girl, Luerin.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Sure, a mistake. You’re not the type with a bad heart, anyway.”

Camilla treated me like a kid.

We were only a year apart in age, but from what I’d heard, she had served as a formal hunter supporting the priest for over five years.

That made her a veteran far above my league, so her attitude made sense.

Interestingly, she was the only one who’d returned from this recent hunt. I asked, puzzled,

“Where’s the priest?”

“He went out hunting again. This time, alone.”

“…Is that safe?”

“If he’s going alone, it means it’s a hunt that requires secrecy. And seriously, who do you think should be worrying about whom here?”

Camilla sighed as she spoke, and I found myself accepting her reasoning.

The longer I stayed in the training center, the more I realized how enormous the priest’s reputation was within the guild.

The first, the best, the strongest hunter—those were the words used to describe him.

“Senior, if I graduate from the training center… will I get to work with the priest?”

“No way to know. Hunters usually form parties, but someone of the priest’s caliber doesn’t take on rookies. Says they just get in the way.”

Camilla added with a smug smile, “I’m just the exception. I graduated top of my class.”

“Anyway, training center life is rough, isn’t it?”

“Honestly, being treated like a monster isn’t exactly fun. But I’ve made a friend, and I’m managing.”

“Good. Just hang in there a little longer. You’ll get out sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

When I asked, she raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“You’ll find out soon.”

And just as Camilla said, the following week I was summoned by Aila.

“It’s a hunt. You’ll be participating.”

Next to me stood Luerin.

“Think of it as a kind of test,” Aila said as she began to explain.

The Hunter’s Guild was perpetually understaffed.

So under the guise of a “hunting exam,” they’d draft senior or graduate-level trainees to participate in operations.

A hunter would accompany them, grade their performance, and those scores would impact their future standings.

“I have a question,” I said.

“Go ahead.”

“I just entered the training center. I’m neither in the advanced class nor close to graduation.”

“You beat a senior half to death. That makes you… let’s say, special.”

It was an absurdly convenient decision.

Luerin, hearing this, flinched.

Her eyes still held fear when she looked at me.

Naturally so—just a few weeks ago, I’d beaten her within an inch of her life.

I’d heard she couldn’t even regain consciousness for nearly a full week in the infirmary.

Still, Luerin had her pride.

When she noticed me watching her, she cleared her throat and said,

“I-I was caught off guard, that’s all. If we fought again, I wouldn’t lose so easily.”

“Oh? Want to go another round?”

“N-no… that’s… um…”

As soon as I offered, she trailed off.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, and she swallowed hard, quickly looking away. Her shoulders trembled.

Well, the advice I gave Sophia seemed to work just as well for me.

Luerin couldn’t even meet my gaze, bound by learned fear.

“Aiden, let’s stop there. You’re breaking my precious student,” Aila said.

“She’s the one who picked the fight based on a misunderstanding. I don’t think I’m the one at fault.”

“You really never let anything go, do you?”

Aila chuckled as she responded, while Luerin twitched again and glanced at me.

Watching our little scene, Aila clapped her hands.

The magically sealed door behind us opened, and a man with disheveled hair walked in.

“This is the veteran hunter who’ll be accompanying you. What was your name again?”

“Undertaker.”

“Right. Undertaker. No need to know his real name. Hunters typically use aliases, like the priest who took you in.”

Undertaker.

The name alone gave me chills—it was the exact opposite of “priest.”

He carried a massive scythe strapped to his back, a weapon that matched his burly build.

I could already guess why he’d earned such a grim nickname.

“He’s a pretty famous hunter. Luerin, I think you two have met before?”

“…Nice to see you again.”

“Oh, you’re that kid the Guildmaster recommended? Already time for your test, huh?”

“Uh, y-yes. I—”

“Forget it. Why bother listening to a walking corpse’s story.”

“…What?”

“Kidding. Don’t freak out.”

Despite the eerie words, the Undertaker turned to me, his black eyes locking onto mine.

It seemed it wasn’t Luerin he was interested in—it was me.

“Aiden. I hear the Priest has taken an interest in you.”

“…Yes, sir.”

“Expectations are high.”

The Undertaker stepped back a few paces, as if he’d said all he needed to.

Eila sighed and patted Luerin on the shoulder.

“He’s a bit of a weirdo, but don’t worry. He’s reliable. He won’t let you die out there.”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

“Anyway—”

Eila raised her voice, drawing everyone’s attention.

“You’re heading out on a hunt now, under the guise of a graduation exam. This isn’t training—it’s the real deal. You’ll be facing an actual vampire. Your target is…”

She glanced at the Undertaker, signaling him to explain. He let out a sigh before speaking.

“A vampire Viscount. A tricky one. Might want to tuck a will in your pocket.”

At that, Luerin hiccuped.

And so, we departed from the citadel.

We each received a horse, but I wasn’t skilled enough at riding yet—even after Camilla’s lessons—so I ended up sharing a horse with the Undertaker.

Fortunately, Camilla was joining the hunt too.

When our eyes met, she gave me a bright, eye-crinkling smile.

“Told you you’d be getting out soon.”

“Would it have killed you to give me a proper explanation, senior?”

“Well, since this is also considered an internal exam for the training academy, giving you all the details would’ve been unfair, don’t you think?”

It was a fair point, so I didn’t have much else to say.

“If you’ve got time to chat, how about telling us why the Priest recommended you in the first place?”

That was the Undertaker speaking.

I glanced at Camilla.

She shrugged as if to say, “Go ahead.”

Choosing my words carefully, I began to explain—leaving out the part about becoming a scion of the

True Ancestor.

After hearing my story, the Undertaker stopped his horse and looked back.

“Camilla.”

“Yes?”

“Is what this kid’s saying true?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Since I was riding behind him, I couldn’t see his expression, but he shook his head in disbelief.

“So… you’ve already got a kill count of two?”

“…Kill count?”

“It means how many vampires you’ve slain. Hunters keep track. It’s like a badge of honor.”

Camilla chimed in with an explanation.

“Yes. Two.”

I nodded.

I’d taken down the old vampire woman, and then Jursak after that—so that made two.

The Undertaker fell silent for a moment, then snapped the reins, and the trotting horse suddenly surged forward.

Wondering if I’d said something wrong, I looked to Camilla, but she simply shrugged again.

Then, to my surprise, the Undertaker spoke with satisfaction.

“Impressive.”

The sudden praise caught me off guard.

“The Priest had good reason to recommend you.”

For the record, Luerin, bringing up the rear, looked like she’d just bitten into a lemon.