Awakening in a new era

Silence.

Then, breath.

A sharp gasp tore through the stillness as his eyes snapped open. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, lungs burning as though they had been starved of air for centuries. His fingers twitched, gripping the rough fabric beneath him. The dim glow of candlelight flickered against the wooden ceiling, shadows swaying with the movement of the flames.

His body felt strange. Light. Too light.

Slowly, he sat up. The motion felt unnatural, as if his limbs did not belong to him. His gaze drifted downward, his breath hitching as he took in his hands—unscarred, smooth, young. Far younger than they should have been.

His mind spun, memories crashing into him like a tidal wave.

He had been Leonhart Valtore—a name that once echoed through the abyss, a name demons feared. The greatest hunter of his time, the last line of defense against the darkness that plagued the world. He had fought, bled, and sacrificed everything in his war against them.

And yet—he had died.

Not in battle. Not in some glorious last stand. His end had come long ago, lost to the decay of time itself.

So why was he here?

A sharp bell tolled in the distance, reverberating through the walls. Shouts echoed through the halls beyond his room, hurried footsteps pounding against wooden floors.

Before he could fully process what was happening, the door slammed open.

A boy, no older than sixteen, stood panting in the doorway. Dark hair clung to his forehead, sweat glistening against his skin. His blue eyes widened with exasperation.

“Nero! What the hell are you still doing in bed? The entrance trials start in an hour!”

Leonhart stilled.

Nero?

The name struck him like a blade to the chest. It wasn’t his. But the way the boy said it—so naturally, so familiarly—meant that it was.

His mind raced. He wasn’t just in another body. He had a new identity. A new life.

The boy groaned, throwing his hands up. “Don’t tell me you forgot! We’re at Hunter’s Academy! If we fail today, we’re out!”

Hunter’s Academy.

Leonhart had only heard whispers of such a place in his time—a sanctuary meant to train warriors against the abyss. Back then, it had been nothing more than a fleeting idea. Now, it was real. It existed.

Which meant one thing.

The demons still roamed the world.

And worse—Beru, the Demon King, would return.

Leonhart—Nero Valtore—exhaled slowly, golden eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

This time, he wouldn’t fail.

This time, he would end them all.

---

The Academy was massive, its halls lined with banners bearing the insignia of the Hunters. Torches flickered against stone walls, and the sound of boots striking the floor echoed through the corridors as recruits rushed toward the training grounds.

Nero followed, keeping his pace steady, observing.

His mind was a storm of thoughts. Centuries had passed, yet nothing had changed. The war continued, and humanity still relied on hunters to fight their battles.

But more than that—his body was different. Strong, but not the same as before. He would have to start over. Train again. Learn his limits.

As they reached the massive double doors leading outside, Nero felt a shift in the air.

The moment he stepped through, sunlight bathed the training grounds. A massive arena stretched before him, surrounded by towering stone walls. Hundreds of recruits stood in neat rows, their gazes fixed ahead.

At the center of it all stood a man clad in black and silver armor, his presence alone enough to command silence. His sharp eyes scanned the recruits with the cold calculation of a predator.

“I am Instructor Alden.” His voice carried through the courtyard like a blade cutting through steel. “And today, you begin your training.”

His gaze swept over them. “You are here because you wish to become hunters. But strength alone will not save you. The creatures you seek to destroy are faster, stronger, and more ruthless than you will ever be. If you hesitate, you die. If you falter, you die. And if you are weak…”

He let the words hang in the air before continuing.

“Then you are no different than the ones we hunt.”

Silence followed. No one dared to speak.

Then, with a wave of his hand, the iron gates at the far end of the arena groaned as they lifted.

From the darkness beyond, something moved.

A low, guttural growl filled the air.

The recruits tensed, their eyes widening as a monstrous figure stepped into the light—glowing red eyes, razor-sharp claws, and a twisted grin filled with fangs.

A real demon.

The first test had begun.

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