Chapter 194: The First Attendants
Word spread through Titan Forge’s training hall fast.
Raze had walked in at seven in the morning, and within four minutes every hunter in the building knew he was there. He hadn’t announced anything. He just had that effect. The training sounds didn’t stop, but they changed. People tracked him without looking directly at him. The whole hall reorganized itself around his presence.
Several strong hunters started walking over before he’d even reached the center of the space.
He didn’t say much. He looked around at the people gathering and smiled.
"Let’s see what you’ve got," he said.
...
By the time thirty hunters had gathered, he held up a hand and everyone stopped.
"Before anything else," he said.
He looked around at the group. Experienced hunters, most of them. Rank C and above. People who’d made it through the Mythical phase and B-rank territory and kept going.
"The Abyss Watchers aren’t going to have everyone doing the same job," he said. He drew two circles in the air with his finger. "Two roles."
He pointed to the first.
"Attendants. Elite hunters who work independently. They lead investigations. Oversee disputes. Represent the guild. Make hard calls when hard calls need to be made."
He pointed to the second.
"Soldiers. They support the Attendants. Maintain order during operations. Secure civilians. Help with investigations when an Attendant calls for backup."
He looked around.
"Not everyone becomes an Attendant," he said. "But everyone in this room should be aiming for it."
He watched the group straighten up. People always stood a little different once they knew they were being evaluated for something real.
"Good," he said. "Now let’s begin."
...
The first challenger came forward immediately.
Rank B. Wide shoulders. The build of someone who’d spent a long time fighting things bigger than himself.
Raze said, "One minute. Come at me."
The hunter nodded.
He came in hard from the start. Real effort, not a performance. Speed, pressure, committed attacks that weren’t telegraphed. He’d clearly trained past the basics.
Raze blocked. Moved as little as possible. Redirected what needed redirecting and absorbed the rest.
At thirty seconds the hunter’s breathing changed. Still fighting, but the edge was coming off.
At forty-five seconds he was working harder for the same results.
At fifty-five seconds he was still coming.
Raze stopped at sixty seconds and tapped the hunter’s forehead once, gently — the signal that he’d given everything and it was over.
The hunter stopped, breathing hard.
The room expected a rejection.
Raze smiled.
"Good," he said.
The hunter looked at him.
"You knew you couldn’t win," Raze said. "You came anyway. You didn’t slow down. You didn’t switch to something safer." He shrugged. "You kept doing what you were doing right up until I stopped you."
He gestured.
"Follow me."
First recruit.
...
The second challenger was stronger than the first.
Obvious from the first exchange. Higher output, faster recovery, more varied attacks. Real combat capability.
Around the forty-second mark, Raze stepped slightly left of a committed strike and the hunter missed cleanly.
His expression changed. Not quite frustration, but something close to it flashed in his eyes.
The next swing came harder, with a wider arc.
Raze stepped back.
"Stop," he said.
The hunter stopped, still breathing hard, still visibly irritated.
"Rejected," Raze said.
The hunter stared. "Why?"
Raze pointed behind himself, at the empty space there. "If civilians had been standing there when you swung wide, you’d have hit them."
Silence.
"Your output is good," Raze said, not unkindly. "Your control when you’re frustrated isn’t. This job needs both."
The hunter stood there a moment, then nodded and stepped back.
...
The third challenger was smaller than most who’d come forward.
Fast. The kind of fighter who built her whole style around not being where attacks expected her to be. She worked the angles, making Raze adjust his position more than the first two had.
Around the forty-second mark, she stopped hunting for an opening that wasn’t there.
She changed direction.
Instead of pushing toward Raze, she moved sideways, like there were people to her left who needed the space between her and him kept clear. Her whole body angle shifted. She wasn’t fighting to win anymore. She was protecting something.
Raze watched for a few seconds.
"Stop," he said.
She stopped.
The room waited.
"Accepted," Raze said.
People in the group exchanged looks.
One of them said, "She didn’t beat you."
"No," Raze said.
"She didn’t even get close."
"No," Raze said again.
He looked at the woman. "You stopped trying to win and started trying to protect." He looked back at the group. "That’s the job."
...
The fourth was exactly the kind of hunter the Abyss Watchers should want. Massive axe. Heavy build. The pressure he put out was real, the kind that changed the air in a room.
Raze increased his bloodlust output.
Not to hurt him. Just to fill the room with it.
The fourth hunter froze.
Nothing dramatic. A small hesitation. A fraction of a second where the pressure landed and his body needed a moment to catch up.
But a fraction of a second was a fraction of a second.
Raze walked past him without another word.
"Come back next year," he said over his shoulder.
Someone nearby asked, "What was wrong with him?"
Raze said, "Nothing. He’s not ready yet."
He kept moving.
...
The fifth came forward, and everything about him was average.
Not dramatically average. Just the kind of unremarkable that made you look at the people around him instead of him. Fine build. Functional technique. Lower output than the third or fourth challenger.
He took the first hit and went down.
He stood up.
Raze hit him again, controlled but real.
He went down again.
He stood up.
Again. Down.
He stood up.
The room had gone quiet.
Down.
He stood up.
Nothing theatrical about it. No dramatic pause, no visible decision being made. He just kept getting up with the same expression he’d started with, the look of someone who’d decided to finish what he started.
Raze stopped.
The hall was completely silent.
"Name?" Raze said.
The hunter told him.
Raze smiled. "Attendant."
The room burst into conversation.
Someone said, "He lost every exchange."
Raze looked at the group. "What exactly did you think this job was about?" He looked at the hunter, still standing, breathing controlled despite everything. "He didn’t panic. He didn’t switch tactics looking for a shortcut. He didn’t give up once it was clear I was stronger." Raze looked around. "That’s the person I want standing between civilians and a threat."
...
By mid-morning, eight people stood behind Raze.
Some Attendants. Some Soldiers. All of them had actually been tested, not just auditioned.
Raze finally answered the question one of the watching hunters had worked up the nerve to ask.
"What exactly are you looking for?"
Raze thought about it. "Power. Will. Judgment."
The hunter said, "In that order?"
"No," Raze said.
Silence.
He pointed at the fifth hunter, the one who kept getting up. "Will." He pointed at the woman who’d changed her objective mid-fight. "Judgment." He pointed at the first recruit, the B-rank hunter who’d kept coming for sixty seconds. "Power."
Everyone listened.
"Power without judgment creates someone who hurts the people they were supposed to protect," Raze said. "Judgment without will creates someone who knows the right thing and doesn’t do it anyway. But will without strength?" He smiled. "That can be trained. You build strength around it."
He looked at the eight of them.
"That’s why I’m here," he said.
...
He told them to rest.
One of them said, "What about today?"
Raze grinned. "Today was the warm-up."
Everyone groaned.
He laughed and looked toward the hall’s exit. Through the windows, the city was going through its morning, the light clear and direct.
He thought about the conference room. The six of them around the table. The objective on the wall sitting at zero percent.
He looked at the eight people.
"Tomorrow we train properly," he said. "Tonight, figure out what you’re actually committing to. This job isn’t exciting most of the time. It’s showing up. Being consistent. Doing the thing when it’s inconvenient." He looked at each of them. "If that sounds boring, now is the time to leave."
Nobody left.
Raze smiled.
He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Kai.
Found the first ones.
He put the phone away and looked at the group.
"Good," he said. "Let’s get started."