Two months had passed since Keith first arrived at the training center. In that time, the routines had grown familiar—morning drills, weapon training, strategy lectures, and evening endurance runs. Though the training center was co-ed, the boys and girls stayed in separate hostels, and their training sessions occasionally overlapped. Keith had grown used to the environment, but he still felt like a shadow among the others.
His days were long and his nights quiet, often spent staring at the ceiling in the dark, wondering when—if—he would awaken his powers.
While awakening usually happened within the first few weeks of entering the training center, Keith remained one of the few who hadn't shown any sign of power. The other trainees whispered behind his back. Though awakening late wasn't unheard of, it was rare. And those who didn't awaken at all? Even rarer.
The Demon Hunter Association used a structured nine-rank system to measure power progression. Most trainees who awakened began at the Novice Rank, the lowest tier of officially recognized power. They had only just learned to harness their abilities and relied heavily on teamwork and weapons to fight. A few trainees had already moved beyond Novice into Adept Rank, gaining enough strength and control to face mid-tier demons alone.
Weapons, too, were categorized by rank. Most of the awakened used Common Weapons—Rank 1 items with minimal enhancements. These weapons were simple but reliable, a first step toward something greater. As one progressed, weapons could be upgraded or replaced with higher-ranked ones, such as Spirit-Forged Weapons or even Mythic Arms, though such relics were incredibly rare and difficult to obtain.
One cloudy afternoon, after weapon theory class, Keith lingered behind. Mistress Evelyn, their instructor, noticed him as she erased notes from the board. She turned toward him, her expression softening.
"Something on your mind, Keith?"
He nodded slowly. "Mistress… why haven't I awakened yet?"
She folded her arms, leaning against the desk. "Awakening isn't an exact science. Some awaken early, others take longer. It's tied to the soul—and sometimes, to trauma or a moment of clarity. And a few…"
She paused.
"…never awaken?" Keith finished for her.
Her nod was barely perceptible. "But that doesn't mean they're powerless. Some of the greatest tacticians and support operatives never awakened. The Association values all paths, not just those paved with raw strength."
Keith left the classroom with her words echoing in his mind. Outside, in the courtyard, a group of trainees huddled near the fountain. As he walked past, he caught a few whispers.
"…still unawakened after all this time?"
"I heard he's the one whose village was attacked."
"Maybe he doesn't have power."
Keith didn't stop. He had grown used to the rumors, but they still stung.
That evening, the training hall hosted a lecture on demon classification. Master Orrin stood at the front, gesturing to a massive chart on the wall.
"Demons, like us, possess a hierarchy. The lowest are Lesser Fiends—mindless and weak. But as they feed on fear, blood, and souls, they evolve. The most dangerous ones, like the Abyssal Overlords or the mythical Primordial Evils, exist only in nightmares… or history books."
He pointed to a section of the chart labeled 'Rank 3 – Greater Demons.'
"These can think, plan, even manipulate. They rival our Adept Rank hunters. Most trainees will never face one until they reach Elite Rank, and even then, caution is paramount."
Keith raised a hand. "What rank were the demons that attacked my village?"
Master Orrin studied him. "If the reports were accurate… likely a Demon Knight—Rank 4. A terrifying foe for untrained villagers, but manageable by experienced hunters."
Keith's chest tightened.
Later, as he walked past the girls' hostel on his way back to his dorm, Keith noticed some of the female trainees still practicing in the lantern-lit yard. Their footwork was sharp, their forms perfect. He admired their dedication and discipline. It reminded him that everyone here had the same goal—protecting the world from the Abyss.
He stopped by a window overlooking the library. Through the glass, he could see the historical section filled with old tomes detailing the Primordial Rank warriors and legendary Godslayer Weapons. He didn't know if those stories were true—but part of him hoped they were. It meant there was always a higher summit to reach.
Back in his dorm, Keith lay in bed, reflecting on everything he'd learned. Two months. No power. No sign of awakening.
Still… he wasn't giving up.
Because even if the spark hadn't come yet, he believed it would. One day.
And when it did… he'd be ready.