Luna's Legacy

I woke up before the sun. Couldn’t sleep, not really. My stomach was a knot, my head a storm, and today… today was the day everything would change.

The Guild exam.

I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, letting the cold water hit my face. It didn’t wash the nerves away, but it helped me breathe. As the steam curled against the mirror, I caught my reflection—short brown hair clinging to my shoulders, tired brown eyes staring back. Sixteen years old. Old enough to join the Guild. Old enough to start hunting. Old enough to finally take the first step toward that monster.

My chest tightened. The memory was always waiting for me. I was six when it happened. My parents—both B-rank hunters, close to making A—were strong. Everyone said so. But strength didn’t matter that night. The thing that came… it wasn’t like the monsters in the books, or the ones hunters brought back for coin and glory. No. This one was different. Beyond anything in the ranking system. Beyond SSS. It tore through our house like it was made of paper. I remember the sound more than anything—bones snapping, walls breaking, my mother’s scream. And then… silence.

Except for me. I lived. Don’t ask me how. Don’t ask me why. All I remember is a searing pain in my arm, a mark burned into my skin, and the weight of my father’s sword in my hand as I stumbled out of the ruins. Everyone told me it was impossible. Monsters that strong don’t exist, they said. Just a child’s trauma-twisted memory. But I know what I saw.

The world calls them monsters, but the truth is more complicated. There are hundreds of types—beasts, demons, aberrations, hybrids—each one more dangerous than the last. We rank them, F through SSS, to make it easier to measure the odds of survival. An F-rank can barely kill a farmer. An A-rank can destroy a village. SSS? That’s the stuff of nightmares. Few hunters ever live to tell the story. And me? I’m chasing something beyond all that.

I tied back my damp hair and strapped my father’s sword to my hip. It wasn’t just any blade. An A-rank weapon, sharp enough to cut stone, and stranger still—it could shift, unraveling into a bladed whip when I willed it. I’d trained with it every day for years, but I still felt unworthy holding it. Like it belonged to him, and I was just borrowing.

Around my neck hung my mother’s necklace. Black cord, silver charm, unremarkable to the eye. But no appraiser could ever read it. “Unable to identify,” they always said. I’ve worn it ever since. If it holds power, it hasn’t revealed itself. Not yet.

I glanced at my left arm. The mark was still there, faint lines burned into the skin like an old scar. No one could tell me what it meant. Healers couldn’t remove it, scholars couldn’t explain it. Some said it was just a birthmark. But I knew better. I got it that night. From that thing. And whatever it is… I still don’t know.

I pulled on my boots, heart racing faster now. Today was the first step. If I wanted revenge, if I wanted answers, if I wanted to become a hunter worthy of the sword on my hip and the necklace at my throat… I had to pass.

The Hunter’s Guild is the backbone of our world. Every town has one, every kingdom depends on them. Hunters are the shield against the monsters, the sword that keeps humanity alive. And the Guild exams are brutal. Not everyone makes it in. Some don’t even survive the test.

I took one last breath, my fingers brushing the necklace at my throat. “Mom. Dad. Watch me,” I whispered. Then I stepped out into the morning, toward the Guild hall that loomed in the distance like a cathedral for killers.

Today, my hunt begins.

The walk to the Guild felt longer than it should have. Maybe because everyone I passed looked at me differently.

Some offered a nod, even a smile. They knew my parents—respected hunters, close to reaching A-rank before… before that night. Those people saw me and gave me a kind of pitying respect. Like I was living in the shadow of what could have been.

Others weren’t so kind. Their eyes lingered on my arm, on the jagged scar that peeked out from my sleeve. They whispered the same thing I’d heard my entire life.

“Cursed.”

“The girl marked by a monster.”

I kept walking, my boots crunching against the cobblestones, ignoring them as best I could. Still, their words clung to me like smoke. Maybe they were right. Maybe the mark was a curse. I didn’t know. But it was mine, whether I wanted it or not.

The Guild hall rose above the town like a fortress, its stone walls carved with the insignia of countless hunters who’d passed through. Huge doors, twice my height, opened to a hall buzzing with noise. Hunters lounged at tables, armor clinking, voices booming. Maps, wanted posters, and monster sketches covered the walls, marked with claw scratches from the ones brought down alive.

I forced my legs to carry me to the registry desk. A man with gray whiskers and a bored look shoved a book toward me.

“Name?” he grunted.

“Luna,” I said, signing the page as neatly as my shaking hand would allow.

“Sixteen, huh? Barely old enough.” His eyes flicked to my arm, then away, like he didn’t want to catch whatever curse he thought I carried. “Sit over there. Wait until we call you.”

I did as he said, moving toward the long benches where other recruits had gathered. Dozens of them, some my age, others older. Everyone tense, buzzing with nerves, excitement, fear.

I sat down, clutching my father’s sword across my lap. I was staring at the floor when movement caught my eye. A pair of girls my age were across the bench, whispering animatedly. What caught my attention wasn’t their conversation—it was the small emblem each wore pinned to their cloaks.

A silver scythe over a black circle.

Nightwalker’s symbol.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was on my feet, walking over. “Excuse me,” I said. My voice came out quieter than I wanted. “You’re fans of… Nightwalker?”

Both girls looked up, startled. The one on the left had fiery red hair tied back in a braid; the other, soft blond curls. They exchanged a glance, then nodded.

“Of course,” the redhead said, her eyes lighting up. “Who isn’t? He’s the strongest hunter alive. Some say the strongest in history.”

The blonde leaned forward, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “He’s called the Reaper. Did you know that? Because he wears a black cloak, and his scythe… it looks like it came from death itself.”

My chest tightened. I’d heard the stories too. Who hadn’t?

“They say he can cut through anything,” the redhead continued, eyes wide. “Armor, stone, even spells. One swing, and the battlefield changes. He once fought three S-rank monsters at once—and won.”

“Not just won,” the blonde added. “He scared the others away. Imagine that. Monsters that size, running.” She shook her head. “Even other hunters avoid him. He’s… different.”

I swallowed hard. My voice came out before I could stop it. “Have you ever… seen him?”

The girls exchanged another look, this one softer. “No one’s seen his face,” the redhead said. “Not once. Not even the other SSS hunters, probably. His hood never falls. Some people think it’s cursed. Others say it’s because he isn’t human at all.”

“That’s not true,” I said quickly, before realizing how defensive I sounded. “He’s human. Just… stronger. Smarter.”

Both girls raised their brows at me, curious. “You sound like a real fan,” the blonde teased.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I held their gaze. “He’s the best. The strongest. If anyone can kill monsters like the one that killed my parents… it’s him.”

The redhead leaned back, studying me. “Your parents were hunters?”

I nodded, fingers tightening on the hilt of my sword. “B-rank. They almost made A.”

Their expressions softened, pity flickering in their eyes. I hated that look, but I said nothing.

Before the silence grew too heavy, a Guild officer strode into the hall, voice booming. “All recruits! Line up! The exam begins now!”

The room went still. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would break through my chest. I looked once more at the two girls, who gave me small, encouraging nods. Then I stood, gripping my father’s sword, and followed the others toward the doors that led to the proving grounds.

Today wasn’t about Nightwalker, or legends, or symbols. Today was about me.

And I had everything to prove.

The Guild herded us into a massive chamber beyond the main hall, a room that smelled faintly of smoke and old parchment. The ceiling arched high overhead, banners of past hunts fluttering from the rafters. A hundred recruits—maybe more—stood shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with nerves.

At the front of the hall stood a row of examiners: veterans. Each one radiated the kind of presence you couldn’t fake. Scarred faces, calm stances, weapons that looked older than me. These were the hunters who lived through the kind of battles recruits like us only dreamed of. My hands tightened around the strap of my sword.

One of the examiners stepped forward—a tall man with cropped black hair and a voice that could have shaken the walls.

“Listen well, recruits. The exam begins here. You’ve all come to prove you have what it takes to become hunters. Some of you will pass. Some of you will fail. A few of you may even die.”

A ripple of unease moved through the crowd. My stomach knotted.

The man’s expression never changed. “Your test is simple. You will face a monster.” He raised one calloused hand, pointing behind him.

I followed his gesture to the far side of the chamber. That’s when I saw it: an archway carved of black stone, every inch etched with glowing runes. The symbols shimmered faintly, alive, shifting if you looked too long.

“The teleportation arch,” the man explained. “These runes come from a lost civilization. We still don’t fully understand them, but we know how to use them. Step through, and you will be transported to a designated hunting zone. All of you will face the same monster—an A-rank beast.”

Murmurs spread across the hall. Some recruits straightened with excitement, others paled.

“Do not panic,” the man said sharply. “This monster is incredibly weak for its rank. It is classified as A-rank only due to its defense. Its hide is impenetrable by normal means. Its strength and speed are nothing remarkable. Your goal is not to kill it—” He paused, scanning the crowd. “—but to damage it. To show us your skill, your tactics, and your resolve. We will judge you on how much harm you can inflict on the beast. If by some miracle you manage to kill it, you will receive a bonus to your evaluation. But don’t fool yourselves. None of you are expected to succeed in that regard.”

The tension in the room grew heavier, recruits whispering about what “impenetrable defense” meant. My throat felt dry, but I stood straighter.

The man continued. “Each of you will be assigned an examiner. They will accompany you into the zone. They will not assist you in combat, unless your life is in imminent danger. They are there to observe, to judge, and, if necessary, to drag your corpse out before it rots.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. This was it. My chance. My test.

The man’s eyes dropped to a list in his hand. “First candidate. Luna.”

The world seemed to fall silent around me. My boots felt heavy as I stepped forward, every gaze in the hall pinning me in place. The whispers rose again—cursed girl, the mark, the survivor. I forced myself not to flinch.

One of the examiners stepped out from the line. A woman this time. She was lean, her dark hair pulled back into a braid streaked with silver. Her armor was simple but well-worn, scarred from use. At her hip rested a spear, its tip gleaming with faint enchantment.

She extended a hand to me. “I’m Claire. I’ll be your examiner.”

Her voice was calm, steady. It helped me breathe again. I nodded, gripping my sword at my side instead of taking her hand. She didn’t seem offended—just gave a small smile, like she’d seen nerves a thousand times before.

“Stay close,” she said. “Do your best. That’s all we ask.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

Together we turned toward the archway. The runes pulsed brighter as we approached, a low hum filling the air like the sound of distant thunder. I’d never seen lost magic up close before. It felt… wrong, somehow. Like the air didn’t want to stay in one place, like the stone was alive.

The other recruits watched in silence as I stood before the gate. The glow of the runes washed across my face, painting my skin in shifting blues and purples.

This was it. No turning back.

I looked down at my father’s sword, the hilt warm in my palm, then touched my mother’s necklace for luck. My heart pounded, fear and determination clashing inside me.

“Ready?” Claire asked softly.

I nodded. “Ready.”

She gestured to the arch. “Step through.”

I took one last breath, then walked into the light.