"—" Bai Chen stared at the hand knotted with calluses and scars.
Those scars were a hunter's medals; they told of hard fights and harder days.
But to Raymond in this moment, they felt like cruel mockery.
Raymond tried to lift the table knife.
Clack.
The blade slipped from his fingers and hit the table with a harsh sound.
| "Ridiculous, isn't it?" Raymond said, laughing at himself. "Since that day… I can't even hold a knife."
Bai Chen watched him without speaking.
Raymond and Rob had been members of the Fourth Squad for years. They'd come to the New World a decade ago and stayed while others returned home.
They were seasoned hunters—veterans who'd kept the outpost alive in the hard years before the Fifth Squad arrived.
Raymond looked at his trembling hand; the fear trembled in his voice.
"Every time I lift a blade, that golden vertical pupil flashes in front of my eyes."
Bai Chen understood. If this were the cultivation world, it would be called a shattered heart—his spirit broken by fear. That Anjanath's single, vengeful strike had clawed an image into Raymond's mind.
"Facing fear is the only cure," Bai Chen said quietly. "Stay. If you keep running from it, it will only grow. If you stay and face it, you might heal."
Raymond straightened the knife with a slow shake of his head.
"You're right, benefactor. But after this last mission, I realized something — I can't keep up with them.
The Fifth Squad… they're the best. Most of them can go toe-to-toe with Wyvern-tier monsters. I've been stagnant for ten years. It's time I went home."
He spoke plainly, and it was not bravado. The Fifth Squad wasn't ordinary hunters; their average levels hovered around the mid-forties.
The recommended hunters could be even higher—Aiden from the recommendation team was already level fifty-six.
Bai Chen opened his mouth to argue, but the resolve in Raymond's eyes told him to stop.
Raymond reached into his chest and pulled out a small necklace: a claw the length of a finger, and a dog tag stamped with his name. He set it on the table with deliberate care.
"This claw is from my first hunt—the Azuros that made me a hunter. It's the start of my life as one. I should've left days ago, but I had to see you and say goodbye. Please—take it."
Bai Chen looked at the relic of Raymond's life. This claw was the symbol of his career; handing it over meant a final farewell to the mantle of hunter.
He did not take it at once.
Raymond grinned, a rueful light in his eyes.
| "That kick you gave the Anjanath—man, it was the finest thing I've ever seen. I dreamt of moves like that back when I was a kid. These past days, while I've been healing, I kept thinking—if only I were that strong."
Before Bai Chen could modestly deflect, Raymond hurried on.
| "After that fight, though, I know: I'll never become the kind of legend you are. You'll pull the veil off this New World, and I want to see that day. I want to witness the end of the voyage. If I can't go the whole way with you, at least let this claw go with you and stand in for me."
Bai Chen inhaled slowly. He accepted the claw from Raymond's hand.
Rob then offered a red cord with a metal tag stamped with his name. He leaned on his crutch and spoke in his easy way.
| "Keep mine too. I still want to serve the Guild. I'll go home and get a prosthetic. When I can hunt again, I'll come back."
Bai Chen took the tag and smiled.
| "I'll keep them safe. When I reveal the New World's secrets, you two will come back and see it for yourselves."
| "You bet," Rob said, firm.
Ira arrived just then with the three barrels of ale they'd ordered. The farewell drinking began in earnest.
The evening was a mix of laughter and thick silence; gifts and stories spilled across the table. Raymond and Rob told Bai Chen about their homes—Raymond to Blaze Village to inherit his family trade, Rob to Cloudrest to fit a crafted limb and retrain as a hunter.
They pressed an invitation on him: when this investigation was over, come visit. Bai Chen promised he would.
Before parting, the two elders insisted he take the monster materials they'd gathered. Rules in the New World forbade taking native materials back to the Old Continent—no one wanted invasive bio-disasters—but leaving them for Bai Chen was a generosity born of trust.
The send-off lasted until eleven at night. Every other hunter was drunk, swaying, and loud. Bai Chen alone remained sober—ancient-dragon-level physiology didn't exactly pair well with getting plastered.
He left the sleeping hunters to the care of the Palicoes and climbed back to the arena alone.
Scholars were still studying the Rock wyvern below; Bai Chen didn't disturb them. He climbed to the highest watch platform and leaned on the rail, the night sea breeze washing away the faint scent of ale.
He held the two necklaces under the moonlight—simple metal, stamped names, the weight of memories.
The Expeditionary Corps was like a ship that never paused. It took everyone who felt the itch to discover—and it never waited for those who could not keep pace.
It was ruthless in its course, and yet somehow romantic in its determination. From the moment it sailed, its path had been a one-way line to an end.
Let that ship reach its destination—this, Bai Chen felt, was the wish and duty of every member.
He clenched the chains of metal in his fist and made his vow.
| "No one's effort will be wasted. I will make sure this ship reaches its destination."
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