MoPako System

It was hard to take in. No, it was impossible to accept. The loss of his parents, his hometown, and thrown into a hospital camp as knights asked about you the details of the nightmare whilst the doctors attempting to convince them otherwise. It was like a dream out of a grim fairy tale. How could that be real? Also, his hair was white. His body was weak. So weak that he might as well die. During these past few hours, that scene kept occurring in his mind, a recursive nightmare. Eventually, even his spirit had to shut down to protect his consciousness.

He wasn't responding a zilch when the knights suddenly kneeled and the doctor and nurses respectfully bowed to the old mysterious robed figure who entered. And their presence was unlike any other.

"Child, what is your name?" They asked. Or a he, as the voice sounded like a hoarse grating elderly male's. Mettel looked towards him but did not say anything. He couldn't even see the depths of his hood, shrouded in shadows.

"Mettel, respected sir. The boy's name is Mettel." One nurse replied.

"Hmmm, Mettel. From the word 'mettle', meaning dignity and honor, achievement and glory, and even excellent resolve and ability. What a good name." The figure lowered himself before the child.

"What do you say you become my apprentice? Or an assistant, for starters." Yet Mettel still did not respond. His heart was missing still. The old figure noticed, but he continued anyway.

"Oh silly me, I have not introduced myself yet. I am called by many names but the most I walk the lands with is Hartold. Old Man of the Spire. A monk, an ascetic. A wizard." That name... sounded vaguely familiar to the boy's ears. But the memory was blocked.

"Now I know you must be feeling... quite a shock, to say the least. To all the knights in here, I could only apologize on their behalf. But more personally, I am sorry." He bowed down to the boy.

"If only I came a bit sooner. Perhaps I could have saved your town. Your parents. It was my fault that I couldn't come in time to help repel that beast. I am responsible for your suffering." Finally, the boy had a reaction. The person responsible, at least possibly, is right before him apologizing. Mettel gazed at him deeply. But shook his head. He was smart enough to acknowledge it wasn't this old man's fault. Yet, his emotions didn't care.

"Why didn't anyone come to help us?" He choked out. Slowly, as if releasing a trinkle through a broken faucet, as the salty tears fell out his eyes, the memory of this person the boy recalled: Hartold, a hero of the masses, great powerful wizard of the Aederdalus Spire. Humanity's wise sage.

"Why couldn't you save my parents? You're a powerful magician, aren't you? A great monster hunter, they say. Why? Why weren't you there!?"

"...." Hartold was silent. The knights and doctors were silent as well, the shadows veiling their eyes.

"I am sorry." The old man's hoods conveyed in just a bit of light, revealing a grayed patch skin of the chin.

"I–! I..." Mettel then broke down into a crying mess. The mourning of an innocent child was a gloom not anyone could shrug off. The death of one's parents at such a young age, especially from such a traumatizing nightmare could potentially end a child's future right then and there.

The boy continued to shed his sorrow until his heart was empty. A relief it may be, but the scars of everything pierced ever more upon his numb insensitive state.

"In time... I will give you strength. Enough to avenge your parents." Hartold spoke. A grim weight added onto his tone. "I promise you this. So that no one will ever experience like you did. No one has to suffer injustice. I swear on this on my life." Hartold then stood up.

"I will come back again. In a few days' time, become my student. Or not, if you wish. Regardless, people like me will continue to hunt those beasts down until one party is wiped out. We are monster hunters, after all." With those parting words, his footsteps reverberated across the expanse, resonating with the beating hearts of the people inside, including Mettel's.

Master Hartold went outside the hallway, his thoughts ruminating on a myriad of anchors burdening his mind. Though they grounded him, it was especially heavy today; when his footsteps stopped in the middle. A voice echoed out from his chest pocket:

"Hartold, where you've been?" Hartold pressed on the device within his pocket and spoke,

"A personal matter. It's taken care of." Thereafter, Hartold vanished, a few scatterings of blue sparks displacing where his body was. When he reappeared, he was already in a magnificent circular marble hall domed by the hide of a mammoth-class creature, a glass marble monster. A few others, each with such a presence that the world subtly acted different around them, were present. A grand templar, a legendary sorceress, a hermit renowned for his mystic Tezhe, a high chancellor of a scholar researching academy, an adeptus council master of a great kingdom, and the Hunter, the Archontus. And the last was him, a wizard.

"I'm here." Hartold spoke. One of them, the hunter, pointed at the map.

"We investigated more of the recent outbreak. The first reappearance of an Elder Ancient after hundreds of years became the catalyst for the numerous disruptive events happening throughout the realm. Our organization had already mustered a call to arms deployment in all the areas affected within the various countries and kingdoms, namely: the Eboncliff Bastion, Stonehearth Haven, Aethermoor, Duskwarren, Caerondale, and Frostfall Hamlet. Emberreach Keep is also likely to be invaded but it is currently occupied by… Infernal Fire Bang Bang Explosive Mega. The Keep is in safe hands." Hartold nodded.

"This is outrageous!" Someone slammed on the wall, but the wall only shimmered in response. "How come we didn't even predict that damn Ithivora's arrival? A seventh stage monster, in Kalyntus spit! Any such monster is enough to destroy a continent. The dungeon's entrances should be strictly guarded by the Argonautica Praeda Order. What happened to their oracles? Are the Guardians of the Abyss, Ferrarius Artifex, actually doing their jobs!?" The high chancellor asked with a sonorous yet stringent voice, glaring murderously at the hunter Archontus.

"That's not even the most urgent matter: What of the other Elder Ancients? Other seventh stage monsters? Have they been sighted? The recent aether outbreak has been unprecedented for the last century, if one such being could ascend so would the other horrible atrocities down there. To boot, the number of monster outbreaks from the dungeon is overwhelming for each of our frontier territories even with the reinforcements from the Praeda. The situation is reaching critical point. Words from the diplomats and the International Press had already demanded we personally take action. While that might be recommended, our responsibilities cannot be delegated to another." 

"We also do not know where is Ithivora located presently. It is said the monster was repelled back to the depths, Is this true?" The sorceress expressed her doubt to the Hunter, which they affirmed.

"Incredible… to repel an Elder Ancient, the White Void at that, the Aegis Vanatoria lives up to their name. The legendary couple. It is a shame then." The sorceress sighed as her bronze eyes dimmed. The adeptus council master spoke calmly as he looked at Hartold.

"Have you… uncovered their corpses? The Aegis Vanatoria?" Hartold sighed.

"I did not."

"Why not?"

"Because their corpses did not remain. Not devoured—but simply deleted. Effect of the White Void's breath." The hall was silent. Then, the Hunter declared:

"In any case, the course of action is clearly determined. As the White Void was repelled, and due to the sacrifice of the oracles and scholars, it is determined that the aether outbreak wont be enough to allow for another Elder Ancient to ascend. Furthermore, this wave is the one of the shortest recorded, just only lasting three days. Although the number of monsters makes up for it. We, of the Argonautica Praeda Order, are doing everything we can. Rest assured; our hunters are capable still." The high councilor scoffed.

"Say that to the representatives from the nations sent outside. They've been clamoring for a while now. Spare us your PR talk." The Hunter smiled, and turned towards the double door of the meeting hall.

"Then meeting is concluded. Let's give them the details." Each and every one followed the Hunter out, the hermit and the wizard followed behind. The hermit, also hooded with a baggy unkempt appearance and undeterminable outline, spoke with a voice neither man nor woman.

"Hartold. You got a boy?" Hartold was not surprised this person asked such a question.

"Yeah, I did. A mutated boy. Could have potential for a great Tezhe manifestation. Survived the White Void's radiation." The hermit hummed. Not saying a single word after. 

....

A few days of nothing significance passed to Mettel. He had thought over it, a lot. News had spread outside that a stupid number of monsters were attacking everywhere. Every day, a mass migration of refugees kept coming into the settlement. The boy even had to share in a bed. And the sights he saw was disturbing. People with the same eyes he had. Compounding ever more the negativity he withheld. Until it almost busted apart at the seams. When the wizard Hartold came, his appearance a bit haggard, the boy's body already burned with an intense blaze.

"What is your decision? Know that I will not hold against you; and in fact, I wish to repay my debts to you and all the others by giving you the best I could think of, my tutelage. If you so wish to reject it, then it's no slight. I will not lie to you that I see potential within you—for surviving the White Void's breath. That is why my interest in you was piqued." Mettel, standing with a defiant look, clenched his teeth.

"If you really can make me strong, then I accept. I will come with you." Hartold smiled under the hood, which no one saw. He reached his gloved hand. The boy held it.

"Well then, you best be prepared." Mettel had great expectations of his future from those words. But he never expected—that he wouldn't receive any direct teachings whatsoever but forced to live like a normal boy in a settlement community for the refugees. For years.