The screen before Dante shifted again, the list of classes vanishing. In bold letters it now read: 'Congratulations, you are now a Hunter.' Below, a familiar prompt: 'Continue'.
Dante stared down, startled by the unfamiliar weight of his new gear. He flexed his hands, feeling the rough leather of the gloves, then glanced around. Most people—except Logan and Fae, who were still caught up with each other—had already changed clothes or picked their classes.
Lucy now wore light armor not unlike his, but instead of a bow, twin daggers rested at her hips. She caught Dante's eye and gave him a sly, almost excited grin, rolling her shoulders as if testing her new flexibility.
Dante turned back to the screen and pressed 'Continue'. Instantly, new text appeared:
[Class]:
HUNTER
[Skills]:
(D) Dash
(D) Splitting arrow
(D) Conjure arrow
[Innate Abilities]:
(S) Hunters Eye
(C) Marksmanship
[EXP]: 0/100
The screen was simple, listing just a handful of skills. When Dante focused on each one, a description would appear in his mind's eye: Dash would drain his mana, letting him sprint in a blur to another spot. Splitting Arrow let him infuse an arrow with mana, the head fracturing mid-air to strike a wider area. Conjure Arrow meant he could summon arrows out of thin air. Each of these skills bore a 'D' beside them—Dante guessed that meant they were basic, maybe even weak, abilities.
But 'Hunter's Eye' stood out—marked with an 'S', which had to mean something special. When he focused on it, the description said he could use mana to sharpen his gaze and see further or clearer. He wasn't sure what that meant yet. As for 'innate abilities', the vague text claimed they were traits either born with or gifted to the individual.
Gifted? By whom? Part of a person's being? None of it made sense. Had he always had 'Hunter's Eye' and never known it?
He looked back at his friends—Logan, Lucy, and Fae. Now all of them had changed, their new roles written in their clothes and stances.
Finally, Dante regrouped with the others. Logan called out first, voice steady but tinged with nerves. "What did you pick?"
"Hunter," Dante replied, still adjusting the strap of his quiver.
Logan nodded. "Makes sense. I picked Shield, Lucy's a Rogue, and Fae went with Cleric."
It fit: Logan's new armor looked almost medieval, thick plates and a massive shield slung across his back. Fae's soft robes glimmered faintly, and Lucy looked ready to melt into the shadows.
Logan looked around, brow furrowing. "I have no idea what any of this means yet. But… Dante, did you see anything? Like, before we picked?"
"No," Dante lied, eyes darting away.
But before Logan could press further, a guttural scream tore through the air. In the distance, past clusters of dazed people, someone sprinted—wild-eyed—not at them, but away from something behind. Something big.
Instinctively, Dante concentrated—willing 'Hunter's Eye' to activate. His vision tunneled, sharpening in the direction of the commotion. He saw it: a monstrous boar, at least twice the size of any normal animal, barreling through the crowd. Its tusks gleamed, and its hooves crushed anyone too slow to move.
Dante spun back to the group, panic in his voice. "We have to run!"
But no one listened. Logan swung his shield off his back, jaw set with determination. Lucy darted to the side, daggers flashing in her grip, while Fae's hands glowed with swirling magical circles as she whispered a hurried chant.
Logan shot Dante a hard look. "We can't run. People will die." With that, he charged toward the chaos.
Dante clenched his fists. That damned Logan—always the hero, always the better man.
Chaos erupted. Some people ran blindly. Others froze, only to be trampled by the monstrous boar. Before it could claim another victim, Logan slammed his shield into its path, planting his feet as the beast crashed against him. He shielded a terrified woman, his arms trembling with the impact but holding firm.
"Everyone—together!" Logan shouted, rallying the survivors. People scrambled to his side, raising shields or hurling spells and weapons. It barely slowed the beast. Arrows and magic bounced off its hide, and after a moment it shifted, spotting a new target and charging again.
Logan tried to intercept, but the boar was too fast. It barreled toward a lone man with a long, curved blade. At the last second, the man drew his sword and unleashed a phantom slash—a shimmering wave that hissed through the air. The boar's massive body shuddered, then split cleanly in half, collapsing mid-charge.
No one cheered. The survivors stared in horror, breathless—because now, a whole stampede thundered toward them from the horizon.
Dante's voice cracked. "Okay. Now, can we run?"