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The days blended together for Keith as time at the Demon Hunter Training Center continued to pass. Each morning felt like the last, the rhythmic routine of his training and studies becoming almost comforting in its predictability. Despite not awakening his powers yet, the weeks had passed, and Keith was beginning to understand more about the world around him.
He'd learned that most of his fellow trainees had already begun to unlock their abilities by the time they were his age, but there were a few like him—those who hadn't yet awakened. Keith didn't know whether it was his fault or some unknown reason, but the silence from his own body—the lack of any signs that he might be capable of power—gnawed at him.
One afternoon, after yet another grueling session of physical training, Keith walked back to the boys' hostel, the weight of exhaustion settling in his bones. His hands ached from holding the wooden staff, his muscles sore from the endless drills. The instructors had been especially tough today, pushing them harder than usual. Keith's thoughts wandered as he moved through the corridor, past the other boys chatting and laughing about the day's exercises.
"Keith! Hey, Keith!" Ethan's voice pulled him out of his daze. The blonde boy waved enthusiastically, his katana slung over his shoulder. Keith managed a tired smile and walked over.
"How was training?" Ethan asked, his eyes bright. His awakening had come at the beginning of the month, and since then, his progress had been steady. Keith couldn't help but feel a bit of envy, though he masked it well.
"Same as always," Keith muttered, shrugging.
Ethan chuckled. "Well, don't worry. You're still young. You'll awaken soon enough. Trust me."
Keith nodded, though doubt lingered in the back of his mind.
"Anyway," Ethan continued, "I was gonna go check out some of the new weapons they've been showing off in the Weaponry Hall. Want to come?"
Keith hesitated but eventually agreed. He hadn't seen the Weaponry Hall much yet, though he'd heard about it. The weaponry at the center was renowned, with specialized weapons for each rank and type of combat. Some were just as formidable as the powers the trainees wielded.
The Weaponry Hall wasn't far from the boys' hostel. It was a large building, with walls lined with various types of weapons: swords, spears, daggers, and even unusual items like a heavy crossbow and curved glaives. Each weapon was carefully displayed, gleaming under the overhead lights.
As they entered, one of the instructors—an older man named Instructor Dragan—stood by the entrance, overseeing the display of weapons for the younger trainees. He had a no-nonsense demeanor, his face as hard as the blade he always carried at his side.
"Keith, Ethan," Dragan greeted them with a curt nod. "Feel free to look around, but be respectful. These aren't toys."
Keith nodded and moved toward the racks of weapons, inspecting each one with a sense of awe. He had seen the weapons used in training, but seeing them up close—especially the more advanced ones—was an entirely different experience.
Ethan walked over to a sword mounted on a rack, running his fingers lightly along the hilt. "This is a Rank 1 weapon," he said, his voice tinged with admiration. "It's called the Silver Fang. It's lightweight but sharp as a demon's claw. It's one of the most balanced swords you'll find."
Keith nodded, taking a moment to appreciate the weapon's design. The hilt was engraved with intricate runes, and the blade shimmered with a faint silver glow.
"Rank 1?" Keith repeated quietly. "What does that mean?"
Ethan smiled, glad for the chance to explain. "Well, every weapon has a rank, just like us. The higher the rank, the more powerful the weapon. A Rank 1 weapon is something like a standard sword or spear that's easy to use but doesn't have any special properties. Once you reach Rank 2, the weapon starts to channel energy—usually elemental power. It's still basic stuff, but useful for fighting low-level demons."
Keith's curiosity piqued. "What about higher ranks?"
Ethan shrugged. "They're not really explained to us yet. I think Rank 5 is the highest a trainee can get, and those weapons are something else. Some weapons can even bond with the wielder's power, amplifying it. But that's a ways off for us."
Keith thought about this, silently absorbing the information. It made sense. The Demon Hunter Association had always been shrouded in mystery, and it was clear that power was the currency of this world.
They continued to browse through the hall, and as they did, Dragan came over to them.
"You two seem interested in the weapons," he said, his tone neutral. "Just remember, the strength of the weapon is only as good as the one who wields it. And you"—he pointed at Keith—"still have a lot to learn."
Keith straightened slightly at the instructor's words, but he didn't speak. He could feel the weight of Dragan's gaze, as if the instructor were sizing him up.
"Ethan," Dragan said, turning to the blonde boy. "Come with me. We've got practice scheduled soon."
Ethan gave Keith a quick wave before following Dragan. Keith lingered a little longer in the Weaponry Hall, feeling the weight of the quiet around him.
His thoughts turned inward. What if he never awakened? What if he remained ordinary while everyone else moved ahead, learning how to fight and protect others? He wasn't like Ethan. He hadn't been chosen for greatness—or so it felt. The Demon Hunter Association was filled with people who had natural talents, while Keith was left behind, uncertain.
But he couldn't afford to dwell on that now. He had to focus. He had to keep going, even if his power remained dormant.
As Keith turned to leave, his eyes caught a display at the far end of the hall. It was a weapon he hadn't seen before: a long, dark blade with a strange, jagged edge. The blade was nearly black, and the hilt was engraved with unfamiliar symbols. There was a strange aura about it—something Keith couldn't quite place.
Without thinking, he stepped toward the display, feeling a pull toward the weapon. The air around it seemed to hum with energy, and Keith's hand instinctively reached out.
Just as his fingers brushed the hilt, a sharp voice called out from behind him.
"Don't touch that."
Keith jerked back, startled. Turning, he saw Dragan standing at the end of the hall, his expression serious.
"That's a Rank 4 weapon," Dragan said, his voice low. "It's not for trainees. Not yet."
Keith's heart raced, and he quickly stepped back from the weapon, his hand still tingling from the brief contact.
Rank 4? He couldn't even fathom the power that weapon might hold.
Dragan's eyes softened slightly as he approached Keith. "You don't have to awaken your powers to understand one thing: the path of a Demon Hunter isn't just about power. It's about control. Learn that, and the rest will come."
Keith nodded quietly, his gaze lingering on the Rank 4 weapon. He had a long way to go, and though his power still eluded him, he knew he had no choice but to keep moving forward.
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