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Chapter 119: Train Hard, Grasshopper

Chapter 119: Train Hard, Grasshopper

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Somewhere in the world, the sun slowly crawled up the sky, basking a mountainous region filled with sprawling rocky mountains, hills, and thousands of calamitous monsters continually fighting for supremacy and survival. Strangely, these monsters, as if by tacit agreement, kept a wide berth around a particular hill punctured by numerous tunnels in its sides that made it resemble a beehive.

The hill wasn't the largest in the vicinity, nor was it overly imposing. In fact, it was relatively small compared to the other mountains in the area, but something about it evoked awe in the monsters that caused them to keep a respectful distance, even when fleeing for their lives from predators.

Shockingly, a red-haired figure stumbled out from one of the numerous tunnels, cutting an incredibly disheveled form. It seemed he once wore armor, but it had been smashed into multiple pieces, leaving only a small breastplate to protect his heart.

Blood and pus oozed out from cuts so deep, the white of his bones could be seen. His once magnificent ax had shattered to pieces, leaving only the shaft to which he fastened massive bone claws and teeth to form a makeshift spiked mace.

Hektor grimaced as a massive red dragon landed on the hill, eyes peering silently as his sorry state. It raised a claw and tapped his forehead, causing him to faint as he recalled the beginning of this nightmare.

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Five Days Earlier

After dropping Zuri off, Hektor was forced to resist the urge to throw up as Rider's dragon swiftly sped through the sky, easily smashing through the sound barrier. If it weren't for Rider erecting a barrier to block the incoming wind, the young man would have easily been blown off. Thankfully, after the initial burst of acceleration, the dragon flew at a quick but steady pace allowing the young man's body to settle.

The whole time they traveled, neither Hektor nor Rider spoke a word, the two preoccupied in their thoughts. At least until the dragon descended below the clouds, allowing Hektor to view a massive body of water that seemed to have no end despite how fast they were going. Hektor's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the body of water with wide eyes. As far as he knew, there was no body of water this large in the entirety of Destia.

Which left only one option…

Hektor swallowed huge spittle as he realized the terrifying truth. They were flying over the Forever Sea!!! A conjecture further strengthened as they passed over numerous islands, some small, others almost half the size of Rosendun.

Hektor turned to Rider, whose gaze remained fixed on the horizon without a single change to his expression. It was clear that this was an everyday occurrence to the immortal. Hektor once again swallowed hard, trying to mentally gauge how strong this man must be to cross the Forever Sea with such leisure easily.

All questions remained stuck in Hektor's throat, however, as Rider announced, "We're here."

Hektor turned his gaze to a rapidly approaching island filled with numerous mountains, hills, and several monsters he was sure could use his bones as toothpicks. "...Where is here?"

"Drake's Grotto," said Rider, a slight smile on his face. "Skyrm once banished Razznik here to train before their final fight. Aren't you pleased? You'll get to undergo the same training regimen as the one who grew to become the Destroyer."

Hektor could not hide the excited gleam in his eyes. Who was the Destroyer? Razznik was a mere mortal who trained until he got powers sufficient to challenge and usurp the gods. Though no one would openly admit it, many warriors admired the madman's prowess and used him as a yardstick to motivate themselves when things seemed tough.

Unfortunately, the legends did not tell of the self-torturous methods the madman used to reach his position. Else, dread would have filled Hektor rather than joy. No matter, it was only a matter of time before he discovered the truth with his own body.

The dragon descended upon a conspicuous hill filled with numerous holes. Hektor and Rider jumped down from its back, the latter gazing upon the mountain with a hint of nostalgia. With a vicious smirk, he suddenly grabbed Hektor's right arm in a vice grip before the young man could react. "Before we start, I must get rid of your crutch," Rider proclaimed as tiny mandalas appeared on elongated nails on his right hand, which he stabbed into Hektor's, ignoring the young warrior's screams.

"What do you think you're doing?" A cold voice questioned, as a blade's edge pressed against Rider's throat from behind. "Do not overstep your bounds," Sram warned, eyes burning. "You might not be able to die, but I can make you wish for death."

"Of this, I have no doubt," Rider replied with an even tone, even as the mandalas formed a sealing tapestry that spread around Hektor's right hand. "But unless you wish to stifle this child's growth, you would understand why he cannot become overly reliant on your power."

Sram snorted, the blade disappearing from the vampire's neck. "You are a million years too young to lecture me on how to train warriors." She cast a reluctant gaze at the youngling. She understood where Rider was coming from, but it had been centuries since she found a suitable champion.

Sram did not want Hektor to have an untimely death, but at the same time, she knew better than most that as he got stronger, the foes he faced would also be increasingly insidious and vicious.

If Hektor was overly reliant on her power, he would eventually fall. Even Razznik sealed his magic and potions before descending into Drake's Grotto as he understood the need for real danger to stimulate a swordsman’s senses.

With a huff, Sram disappeared, leaving her cold voice behind, "He is mine. You had better treat him with care."

"I intend to," Rider muttered as he gazed at the youth whose screams had finally seized. His right arm, where Suvron's mark lay, was covered in what seemed to be tattoos of chains. It was apparent what had occurred. Rider had sealed the Sram’s Mark.

Although Hektor was simmering with rage, he knew he stood no chance against this man. He was brash, but not stupid. Oblivious to the conversation between Rider and Sram, he demanded, "Was there a point to this?"

Rider smirked. "You'll find out eventually. For now, listen." Rider pointed at the tunnels at the side of the hill. "Every day, you will venture down the tunnel assigned to you by Xala. You will remain down there, slaying as many monsters as possible until you are instructed to return. Upon which, you will return to the surface for healing."

Hektor rose a brow. "Healing?"

"The beasts down there are all descendants of dragons which have the noble blood flowing within them, but failed to accomplish that final step in evolution to become a true dragon." Rider cast the youth a pitying gaze. "They are fiercely territorial and aggressive. Frankly, as you are now, it will be a miracle if you descend past the first floor alive."

"Wha—" Boom!

The protest died in the young man's throat as he was blasted into a tunnel by the vampire.

Rider turned to his partner of a thousand years, revealing a rare warm smile as he patted her snout. "I'll leave him in your care." The dragon, Xala, spat out a mouthful of air that brushed past the vampire, engulfing him in its cold embrace. With a laugh, Rider launched into the air, mighty wings carrying him high above the clouds as he made his way back to Destia.

Meanwhile, within the tunnel, Hektor grimaced as he got to his feet... only to come face to face with a pair of glowing yellow orbs belonging to an earth dragon the size of four horses. And thus, with a roar which accompanied the young man's cry as a boulder slammed into him, the torture of Hektor’s lifetime began.

Several days later, Hektor no longer flinched when Xala's nail tapped his forehead. Following the tap, he was engulfed by a warmth that instantly healed all the injuries on his body. This procedure had repeated countless times in the past five days.

Kashi would head down the tunnel assigned by Xala, where he would encounter different types of half-dragons with different magic and abilities. He would be forced to consider their attributes and potential skills as he fought while keeping his injuries to a minimum. When he Xala deemed him 'damaged enough,' she would summon him back to the surface via a sharp pain in his head. At which point, he would have to drag his mangled body back the way he came to get healed.

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Annoyingly, Xala did not give Hektor a moment to rest. Once she finished healing him, she blasted him back into a tunnel to repeat the process all over again.

Since no meals were prepared, Hektor had taken to feasting on the remains of the half-dragons, choosing to eat them raw since flames in the semi-lit caverns/tunnels was a beacon for trouble.

However, despite all the detriments, Hektor could feel himself getting stronger and sharper. His reflexes also grew faster than ever. He did not know what Rider was trying to accomplish or how this was supposed to turn him into a dragon knight. But as he descended into the depths, slaying the beasts with increasing ease, he recalled the scene of the blood swordswoman and white-haired vampire wreaking among the Chaos Order, and vowed that at the very least, he would get stronger. Strong enough to stand by Kashi’s side!

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Nama Woods,

15 th Muriel, 1093.

A little furry squirrel lazily yawned as it crawled out of its nest in a hollow tree, brushing its ears as the early morning rays peeked through the tightly bound tree branches. The squirrel, raring to take on the new day and finally get its hands on those nuts on the south side tree, eagerly bounded down the tree trunk.

Successfully meandering through the forest without any major interruptions, it finally reached the elusive south tree with the largest nuts it had ever seen. Excited, it scampered up the tree, using everything it had learned as it jumped from one branch to another, avoiding the trunk which had poisonous moss growing on its side. Today seemed to be its lucky day as it managed to scale all the branches without falling once. Finally, it came face to face with the magnificent acorns of its dreams.

Rustle!

Unfortunately, before it could even grab hold of it, the leaves on the branches of the neighboring tree suddenly shook. The squirrel's fur stood on end, petrified as a black, panther-like creature with six legs pounced. The squirrel could not believe its bad luck! It should have stayed at home with its small, but reliable acorns... WHY DID IT COME OUT!?

Surprisingly, however, just as the squirrel was performing its last rites, the Shadohog jumped past it, clear traces of panic in its eyes. The shadohog had not a moment to spare. There was no way it was going to waste any precious seconds on the squirrel.

Just as the squirrel was wondering what could have made the intimidating creature so scared, a mass of black shot out of the branches, swiftly pursuing the shadohog while laughing hysterically.

The little squirrel, disbelieving its own eyes, rubbed them, but in the end, the sight remained the same. A human* child was chasing down the beast, rushing through the forest branches on all fours like a veteran monkey or leopard, her gaze no less savage than the creature she was chasing down.

In just as much disbelief as the little squirrel was Rider who sat with Fladnag under Yanakal's branches. The trio watched a magically conjured sphere that showed the young girl in action.

"Was the [Beast Soul Possession] this perverse?" Rider asked, not trusting his memory on the subject.

"Hmph, no amount of soul possession could teach this amount of savagery," Fladnag snorted.

"Indeed, I feel this child is of the forest," Yanakal agreed. "Rather than training, it would seem you have returned her home."

Rider was dumbstruck. Indeed, watching this young girl freely swing between branches, race snakes, and contend with Balugras for territory, he could not help but feel like she was indeed a resident of the forest. "Regardless, she will eventually return to the daeben's side." Before then, I must have her inherit my Werewolf lineage.

"Fufu, my eyesight's still the best," Fladnag shamelessly self-praised. "See how you guys are all scrambling over my cute protegee."

Rider held his tongue. Sometimes he was wondering what the goddess' criteria were when she chose her champions. One was a battle junkie, the other bat-shit crazy, the rest unique in one way or another. Sometimes he felt more like a babysitter for six extremely powerful, entitled brats then a powerful immortal being.

Rider shook his head as he rose to his feet.

"Leaving so soon?" Fladnag enquired with a slight frown. "You just got here. You should learn a thing or two from Bert and learn to relax a little."

"I will consider that when you leave this forest of your own accord," Rider countered, secretly pleased as Fladnag visibly shrunk into his chair.

"Rest is overrated," Fladnag fumbled.

With a slight smirk, the vampire bowed slightly at Yanakal. "I'll leave her in your able hands. I should be returning in a few weeks." With those words, he took to the skies, strangely flying towards the continent's center.

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Aygor's Citadel

Kashi and Kira breathed heavily, their sorry figures laying in depressions in the arena's earth. A few meters from them, Zeing chuckled as he stomped the ground, causing slabs of the earth to shoot up from beneath the duo and force them to their feet.

"Not bad," Zeing praised. "You have improved, if only by a fingernail's length. Keep this up, and you might truly find your path." Leaving these words behind, he jumped onto the spectator seats then disappeared into one of the exit tunnels.

Immediately the miniature hulk was gone, Kashi fell back to the earth, Kira not faring any better than he was.

Kashi turned to the one creature who had followed him since the very beginning. "Hey, do you know who I am?"

"Who you are?" Kira's disdainful voice reverberated in the daeben's head, filling him with a sense of nostalgia. "Why are you asking such a stupid question?"

"You heard the big guy," Kashi patiently explained. "He says I'm a jack-of-all-trades with no identity of my own."

"What is wrong with being someone who can do everything?" Kira asked. "Besides, the only person who should tell you what you should be is you."

Kashi remained silent, eyes on the rocky ceiling above. Eventually, he whispered with an exasperated sigh. "That's just the thing. I do not know what I should do."

Kira gazed at the daeben for a moment, then snorted in disgust. "You are thinking too hard, trying to be deep and emotional." She placed a massive paw on his face. "That has never been you, so stop pretending."

Kashi raised a brow, his chuckle muffled by the paw on his face. "I'm pretending?"

"Keep it simple," Kira said, ignoring his remark. "Think about the things, objectives, and people around you. Rank them in order of importance, ask yourself what you would do and how far you would go for each of them. You will find the answer to who you are and what you should strive toward in there."

Kashi was unconvinced, but he took her words to heart. Rosario's Brush appeared in his hand as he got to his feet. "I will carefully consider your words," he solemnly promised as the two exited the arena. "I'm going to continue with the painting. Are you planning on following me?"

Ever since he saw the prompts he gained from the second ancient piece, Kashi devoted a few hours a day to working on a certain painting. Even though three days had passed, he was no closer to completing it, which was a testament to just how massive this particular painting was and how much attention to detail Kashi paid this painting. So far, though, only Kashi, Kira, and Lunette were aware of the painting since it was locked within the glass dome.

"Naturally," was Kira's tacit reply.

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Within the inner ring, where the dwarfs and selected outsiders would be living, several warriors systematically plowed through unlucky monsters caught within the construction zone. The procession was lead by Shoko, whose blade easily reaped the lives of every monster it came across.

However, those who knew her well would find something odd or very strange about her movements.

The same applied to the white-haired blood mage who was weirdly obediently acting as a mage should, supporting the advancing warriors with long-range spells to avoid any significant damage coming his way. He was still quite effective, most monsters perishing in short periods, but the other people watching could not shake off the discomfort caused by his obedient attitude.

A strange bird perched atop one of the walls silently watched these proceedings, unaware of the shadow hidden directly beneath the wall, silver eyes gazing coldly at it.