Chapter 33: The Grassland Trial and the Rubied Hunt
The morning sun slipped through the curtains, casting a golden hue across my room. The warmth pulled me from sleep. After a brisk shower and a quick change, I headed downstairs. It was just past 7 a.m.
The scent of incense lingered in the air. Morning prayers had likely just concluded. A sense of serenity wrapped around the house, though I could already feel the day wouldn't remain calm for long.
I made my way to the cupboard by the entryway. My own combat boots hadn't arrived yet, so I slipped on Raj's old pair—worn, sturdy, and still radiating faint traces of mana. He didn't wear them anymore, preferring sandals crafted from monster hide with movement-enhancing enchantments. Practical and sleek.
Outside, Delhi stirred awake. Shop shutters rose, carts of roasted nuts and fruit juice rolled onto the street, and the morning chatter of merchants and early risers filled the air. I walked briskly through the market and stopped by a small shop nestled between an alchemist's hut and a weaver's stall.
"Order for Vijay?" the shopkeeper asked without looking up.
I nodded. He handed me a leather pouch filled with potions—stamina boosters, minor wound healers, and two emergency mana vials. I paid in constellation coins and left.
Cabs were lined at the intersection. I hailed one, and the driver, a hunter-retired man judging by the scar on his neck, gave me a once-over before nodding.
"Where to?" he asked.
"Edge of Titan Guild territory," I replied, forwarding the coordinates Monkey Saint had sent.
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The hour-long ride passed in silence as the cab sped past the tall buildings of East Delhi and the denser political corridors of Central. Our destination was a thin sliver of contested zone between the Central, North, and East regions—technically Titan Guild jurisdiction, but too close to the wilds to be truly safe.
Unlike the affluent and tightly regulated regions I passed, this area had the worn look of a battle-tested frontier. The presence of monsters in the nearby wilds meant sparse population, abandoned outposts, and hastily constructed barricades. The roads here bore deep claw marks, half-healed mana scars, and warning glyphs engraved by retreating squads.
The dungeon was just ahead, surrounded by a shimmering fence and rune-inscribed pylons. There were no guards—only a recognition system embedded into the wall. Rank-restricted dungeons like this were considered too niche and low-value to warrant constant patrol.
This wasn't just another dungeon.
This was a test.
Monkey Saint had made it clear—he wouldn't follow me today. Not physically. He claimed to be preparing the Saints for what was to come, subtly warning them of the second seal's proximity to breaking. But I knew better. This was the proving ground. The Saints wanted to see what I was truly capable of, and Monkey Saint had stepped aside to let me face the scrutiny alone.
He trusted me. But the other Saints? They wanted results. They wanted to see if I could stand up to the pressure. Today, I wasn't just representing myself—I was carrying the burden of expectations. The Saints weren't just waiting. They were watching. Gun Saint's cold assessment echoed in my mind.
I stepped forward, held up the entry pass. The rune glowed, and a searing pain spread across my chest. The seal at the center of my sternum pulsed like a brand of fire.
"I'm in the right place," I muttered.
With that, I entered the portal.
The world twisted.
The next moment, I stood in the middle of a vast, open grassland. Tall golden blades waved gently under the breeze, stretching endlessly in every direction. Insects buzzed. The air smelled clean, earthy, and fresh. A few birds darted overhead, chirping in rhythmic patterns.
Then I spotted them.
A pride of lions.
Not ordinary ones. Each of these beasts was nearly three meters long and two meters high. Their manes shimmered like molten copper under the sun. Their fangs gleamed like polished obsidian. Most notable of all was the ruby embedded into their foreheads—deep red, multifaceted, and alive with mana.
Rubied Lions. Rank 1 to 4 magical beasts. The ruby was the core of their mutation. If it cracked and they survived, they evolved into Fire Lions, gaining the ability to manipulate flame.
They moved together in coordinated packs, tails flicking, alert eyes scanning. Some patrolled the outer territory, while others lounged lazily—dominant beasts content in their strength.
I crouched low, whispering to Ashratal. The halberd responded with a flicker of fire.
Lightning coursed over my skin, forming a faint mana skin. My armor wrapped around my torso, legs, and arms. The bracers and shin guards extended, covering more area than usual—Ashratal's passive defense mechanism activating.
I picked the nearest lion, about thirty meters ahead, separated from its pride.
I raised my halberd and infused a wave of mana. A blade of energy burst forth, laced with flickering fire and brief sparks of lightning. It soared forward, cutting a shallow gash into the lion's hind leg.
The beast roared.
Its cry echoed, alerting the rest of the pride.
Before they could regroup, I dashed forward. With each step, lightning surged through me, increasing my speed. I closed the distance quickly and leapt, twisting my body mid-air.
The lion swiped at me with massive claws. I rotated slightly, letting the claws graze my shoulder while my halberd crashed down.
The edge bit into its skull.
A loud crack echoed as I landed behind it, sliding on the grassy ground. I turned just in time to watch the lion collapse. Blood seeped onto the grass.
But there was no time to celebrate. The rest of the pride had noticed.
They charged.
I was forced into a rolling skirmish, ducking and weaving through snarls and claws. Ashratal burned bright with fire, slicing through fur and fang. One lion's jaw cracked from an upward swing. Another collapsed as a lightning-infused sweep took out its spine.
I lost count after five.
Their coordination was brutal. One would bait, the others flank. They were intelligent, or at least instinctively strategic.
Exhausted and bruised, I finally stood among a field of fallen predators. My chest heaved. The scent of blood and scorched grass filled the air.
I took a moment. Focused.
The seal on my chest pulsed.
I placed my hand over it. Its pull came from the south. I turned.
The grassland dipped into gentle valleys, then rose into jagged hills. Beyond them stood mountains. Tall, grey, wind-blasted.
Three hours later, I cursed aloud.
I stood at the base of the southern mountain.
The seal was vibrating madly. Its pull came from the top of the tallest peak.
Of course.
And worse, I could feel it. A mana presence—dense, wild, and unnatural—was emanating from up there.
Whatever monster awaited me, it wasn't a typical rank 1 beast.
Even the terrain changed as I approached. The grass thinned, turning into craggy, uneven rock. The winds grew colder. Rubied Lions gave way to something more dangerous. I'd seen the remains of a creature with three claw marks across its skull. Something had killed a lion like it was nothing.
I rolled my shoulders and looked up.
"Climbing it is," I muttered.
The wind howled as I took the first step.
And the trial of the second seal began.