The Combat Exam

'Where am I even running to? Home? I can't go home like this; they are going to find the corpses and easily trace them back to me. Alan's sword must have my prints all over it, there is no way to avoid getting caught. What do I do?' Without any better ideas, I pull out my phone. As I do that, I notice my hand is completely dyed red, the feeling of my hand piercing human flesh resurfaces in my mind. The horrifying feeling is enough to get me to puke. After a couple of hurls, I regain control of my body and unlock my phone to call Ron; he is the only one that could help.

"Hello? Will, why are you calling me this late for?" he asks.

"I fucked up. I really fucked up. Please, help me," my voice is shaking.

"What did you do?" Ron's voice is serious, the usual boyish playfulness is gone.

"I-I killed them. I killed 3 people," guilt rushes into me, but I continue, "they were an old hunting group I portered for. All of them were drunk, they started to harass me and I… I just snapped."

"What? Are you serious? Shit! Tell me where you are and stay put, I'm on my way," he says.

I tell him where the fight happened and head back as well. Everything is the same, the bodies are still there, unmoving. Unable to look at them any longer, I go into a nearby alley and sit down. A couple of minutes later, Ron arrives alone in a car.

"You said it was only these 3, right?" he asks.

"Y-yes."

Ron proceeds to close his eyes and focus on something. After a couple of seconds, flames ignite on the palm of his hands. He lights the bodies aflame, including all the blood that surrounds them. His A rank fire turns the corpses into ashes in mere seconds, with a final flash of light, nothing remains. Even Alan's sword is nothing but a puddle of molten metal.

"Get in the car," Ron says this while he places some plastic sheets over the seats.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" I ask.

"Huh? What the fuck does that mean? Need I remind you who killed them? Because it wasn't me," he spits, his words like venom.

"Ah, sorry, I just…" I can't find the words to say.

"Sigh, I know. We both are stressed out; I didn't mean that. Come on, let's leave," he says.

During the drive, all I can think of is Alan's face. The first instant, he had nothing, but shock written all over it. Then, as his body slumped towards the ground, his face was distorted, by a look of terror. 'Was he feeling the same thing I did when I almost killed myself? The fear of thinking your life is about to end?'

"We're here, get out, and don't forget the plastic sheet," Ron's words interrupt my thoughts.

Getting out of the car, I scan my surroundings. We are in front of a very large house, all its lights are turned off, no signs of life can be seen. Ron goes up to the front door and types in the keypad's password. Once inside, he ushers me into a room on the second floor.

"Take a shower, be very thorough. I'll get you a new set of clothes," he says, leaving the room.

I do as he says and get in the shower, I'm covered in blood. I scrub my body with intense force, almost as if I could scrub away the reality of my actions. Only now do I remember the wound in my gut, it is shallow, but blood still seeps out of it. For now, I can't do anything about it, so I ignore it. Despite being clean, I stay inside the shower, letting the water fall on me, losing track of time.

"Hey man, time to get out of there," I hear Ron say. I get out of the shower and change into the new clothes. He notices my injury and helps me treat it. We both know such a wound isn't a big deal for hunters. Once I'm bandaged up Ron asks,

"So? What happened?"

I fill him in on the details, starting on me becoming a porter. I tell him about the last dungeon I went into, how Alan and the group used me as bait. How I managed to barely survive, I even mention the ring. I mention all of it, the king's memories, the horde and how I decided to become a hunter after that.

"You felt familiar wielding a sword?" he asks.

"Yes, I believe the king might've been proficient in many weapons, but was best as a swordsman," I say.

"Hmm, if his memories affect your talent with weapons, can it be the reason you snapped at them? Kings tend to be very entitled, and from what you saw in those memories, he was very respected. Perhaps, the situation triggered a response from the king's memories," Ron is quick to come up with this theory.

I don't respond, the situation is overwhelming me.

"Looks like you need some rest, you can stay here for the night," he says.

Alone in the room, I go through everything that has happened after the dungeons appeared. The death of my parents, having to become a porter, the constant abuse of from the hunters. Always trying to keep up, I've been unable to rest, I thought becoming a hunter was a turning point, but I was wrong. Unable to process all of my emotions, I begin to sob. The crying doesn't stop until my exhaustion forces me to fall asleep.

The next morning, Ron wakes me up and says, "Hey, the combat exam is in a couple of hours. I don't know what you are going through right now, but I do know you will regret not taking the exam today."

I agree with what he says, and we get ready to go to the association. Picking up my phone, I notice over a dozen missed calls, all from Tom. I take a deep breath and call him.

"Will! What the hell? I know you said you'd be late, but you didn't arrive at all!" he says.

"I know, sorry. My friend and I got a little carried away celebrating, you know, training is over and all," I lie, full of guilt.

"Shouldn't you celebrate until after you become a hunter? Wasn't the exam today?" he says.

'He sounds just like mom.'

"Yeah, don't worry, Ron and I are on our way to take it. Wish me luck," I answer.

"…good luck, dumbass," with that, Tom hangs up the phone.

"Will! Come on let's go!" Ron yells at me from downstairs.

I head down and outside of the house; a car is waiting for us outside. It isn't long before we arrive at the association, Ron's house isn't that far away. We get off and head towards the combat exam building, it is like the gym, but this one is sectioned off. At the entrance, the instructor greets us and says,

"Hello, you two, write down your names and get a number tag."

Ron and I write down our names on a list and grab our corresponding numbers. We are sent into the waiting area; a bunch of other hunters are here. Some of them were part of our training group, while others are strangers. Ron's number is called first, we both are nervous, since we weren't told any details about the exam. A couple of minutes later, my number is called, and I'm led into a different section. I enter the new section, they close the door behind me, leaving me alone in the empty room. The sound of speakers turning on can be heard, accompanied by a voice,

"Number 42, Rank E, the test will begin."

The wall opposing the entrance slides open. From the darkness behind the wall, a monster emerges.

Growl!

A hellhound. They gave a rank E monster for an E rank hunter. The hellhound darts towards me, but I'm too shocked to react properly. Thankfully, my survival instinct kicks in and I raise me spear, protecting my head. It leaps at me and bites down onto the spear, the momentum it carries knocks me to the ground. It is now on top of me, attempting to gnaw at my face.

Alan appears behind the hellhound. 'Wow, our dear porter really is pathetic. Can't even handle a single hellhound.' Besides Alan, the other two hunters appear, they all start laughing as the hellhound gets closer to my face.

'What the fuck is happening to me. I need to get it together!'

I reinforce my arms, the hellhound's pressure on me lessens considerably. I shift one of my legs under its stomach and prepare to kick. '3…2…1… now!' When it rears up, preparing another bite, I swap my reinforcement into my leg and kick with all my might. The kick sends it flying backwards a bit, but that's all I needed. I get off the floor and quickly readjust my stance. Monsters don't need reinforcement, they are naturally studier, that is why my kick barely damaged it.

The hellhound stands back up, and I level my spear. It is weary of me now, the kick might not have damaged it too much, but it shows I'm not going down without a fight. It begins to circle around me, trying to find an opening. I match it's rotation, using this time to gather myself.

'A four-legged creature, its weapons are the front claws and the teeth. If I'm ready, another jump like the first one would be its last, once it is in the air, movement is limited. Growing impatient, it begins to probe me with small attacks, like swiping at my legs. After a couple of swipes, I surprise it by thrusting my spear forward. It dodges diagonally, closing in the distance, but I've had opponents do that before. I angle my body towards the hellhound, now that my center line has moved, I can slash inwards, brining in my spear. It is too close to get hit by the tip, but now that I can rely on my spear not breaking, I can use the shaft aggressively.

Using the spear like a bat, I hit the hellhound in the ribs. The lever action that the spear provides, adds more power to my attack, breaking one of the hellhound's ribs. It yelps in pain and backs off; it is angry now. Being a stupid monster, anger blinds its judgement, and it decides to go for another leap towards my face. Now that it is midair, I commit to a full power thrust, aiming at the chest.

The spear tip easily penetrates the hellhound's fur, the lugs doing their job, preventing it from going too deep into the spear. It fights for a couple more seconds, before going limp. 'It finally died. I did it.' I pull the spear out of the corpse and look around the room.

"Hunter number 42, pass," the voice from the speakers says. Then, door opens, and the instructor walks in.

"That was very sloppy, but well, most people panic like that when they first face monster. That's why we keep the exam vague," he says. "Oh look! I think it dropped a mana stone, lucky you. You'll get to keep it, but the rest of the monster goes to us, okay?"

"Y-yeah, thanks, instructor," I reply.

The rest of the exam continues lacking in fanfare, no award, no certificate, nothing. I'm told all that's left is to get my picture taken at the main building and wait for my license to be made. I meet up with Ron at the exit, he offers me a ride home again, and this time, I take him up on it. Another hectic event passes, and I finally head home.