Razeal stiffened the moment he heard the low, guttural growl ripple through the air behind him. A jolt ran down his spine. His muscles locked up, but his instincts screamed at him to move.
Slowly and very carefully he turned his head over his shoulder.
And there it was.
A black, hulking hound stood just meters away, in open ground of forest. Its body was low to the ground, coiled like a spring. Muscles rippled beneath a semi-metallic exoskeleton, the plates glinting faintly with a dark, gunmetal sheen. Faint wisps of smoke curled from its maw, where dagger-like teeth gleamed like polished steel. Its eyes were pitch black depthless voids that looked less like organs and more like twin abysses staring straight into him.
"Great," Razeal muttered under his breath. "Just my fucking luck."
He took a silent breath, his heart rate beginning to spike, but his face remained composed barely. A third ranked monster, a Fire Hound. They weren't rare. Nor were they usually worth panicking over. But this one looked like it had lived through too many fights and walked away from all of them. It had the scars to prove it.
Its paws were wreathed in small tongues of crimson flame, crackling faintly each time they pressed against the forest floor. Despite that, it had approached in total silence eerily so. That was what made Fire Hounds terrifying. For a low-tier monster, they possessed a remarkable gift for stealth. Their bodies made no noise, their presence almost undetectable. It was like death wrapped in silence.
Razeal narrowed his eyes. "A big dog with murder issues," he murmured. "Lovely."
But even with all that danger… he couldn't help but recall a strange quirk of this species.
They were prideful. Stupidly so.
Fire Hounds, unlike most beasts, never attacked their prey from behind. It was some absurd instinctive code of honor they followed. They always waited for their prey to turn around demanding a face to face kill, as if their ego required acknowledgment before they ripped you apart.
So that why… I'm not dead yet.
Razeal slowly, deliberately turned to fully face the creature. Both of them locked eyes.
He could feel the tension hanging in the air like a blade over his throat.
The beast crouched lower, nostrils flaring, lips curled in a snarl.
He reached subtly into the inside pocket of his tuxedo coat, fingers curling around the hilt of a small dagger hidden within. He didn't draw it. He knew what would happen if he did. The hound was watching. It was waiting.
One wrong move would trigger an immediate lunge. And Razeal didn't like being lunged at.
"System," he hissed mentally. "You've got that damned Rules of the Wild thing, don't you? Got anything useful to help me deal with this hellhound?"
A mechanical ping echoed in his mind, followed by the system's calm, annoyingly chipper voice.
[Yes, Host. Activating Wild Survival Rulebook™.]
Rule No. 1:Don't approach anything bigger than you. You'll be easy prey.]
[Rule No. 2: Don't approach anything smaller than you. They definitely don't have friends, or they're venomous.]
[Rule No. 3: Don't approach anything the same size as you. They'll think it's a fair fight."
[Rule No. 4 dont apr~]
"Just shut up," Razeal snapped under his breath, face twitching. "Shut up, you useless piece of shit."
[Understood. Muting wisdom.]
He rolled his eyes. "Figures. When I need something actually useful, you're out here giving me dumb animal proverbs."
The Fire Hound growled again, paw shifting half a step forward.
Razeal tensed.
His breath came low and slow, a cold film of sweat coating the back of his neck. Every instinct told him to run. Every lesson told him to wait. And every curse he'd ever known stacked itself inside his mind, reserved exclusively for this very moment.
"Guess I'll have to deal with it myself… as always," he muttered grimly.
His grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger inside his coat.
****
On the Other Side of the Trial Grounds
Graveyard of Forgotten Stones
Swish
A surge of emerald light flared across the cracked earth, briefly illuminating the desolate, uneven terrain. The flash faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind a group of stunned figures now standing in the middle of an unnaturally open space an eerie contrast to the rest of the trial zone, which had been overrun by jagged boulders and ancient, weather-worn stones.
Areon staggered forward half a step, immediately unsheathing his greatsword with a sharp shhhnk. Its edge gleamed faintly in the remaining afterglow.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath, scanning the strange area with narrowed, sharpened eyes. "We were teleported. I didn't even sense that guy… How the hell did I miss it?"
Around him, nearly eighty candidates stood, dazed and rattled each trying to comprehend the shout of warning before the teleportation. Their group formation had broken during the warp. Weapons were half-raised, stances uncertain. Only instincts kept them from panicking.
"Wh-where are we?" one of the archers muttered, glancing around warily, an arrow already nocked between her fingers.
Nyla adjusted her glasses, calm but visibly tense. Her normally cool expression had tightened. "Graveyard of Forgotten Stones," she answered. "It's a desolate area inside the Gates of Worth. We teleported directly to west."
A sudden voice boomed through the stony silence a deep, rugged, almost amused growl that echoed like thunder bouncing off the stone walls.
"That bastard kid… Made a deal to send one person. And now sent me a whole damn tour group?"
The voice carried unrestrained power. It didn't shout, but it struck through the air like a shockwave.
Areon spun, sword raised, locking eyes in the direction of the voice and then froze.
His breath caught in his throat.
Standing just ahead was a towering figure, easily seven to eight feet tall, cloaked in a translucent green aura that made the air around him shimmer. His body, though spectral, was built like a war forged titan broad shoulders, thick limbs corded with unnatural strength, and long, curved horns rising from his head like the crown of a Prideful dragon.
In his right hand, he casually held a massive, jade-colored blade a dragon-forged greatsword so majestic it seemed to hum with power even in silence.
"A… A Saint..." Areon murmured. His voice trembled, the words nearly caught in his throat.
His knuckles whitened on the hilt of his sword as he suppressed his instinct to bow or run.
He didn't need anyone to tell him what this being was. He knew. The aura alone gave it away. Only those of saint-rank possessed that kind of overwhelming, suffocating presence. His noble upbringing had trained him to recognise it on instant ofcourse.
Behind him, the group collectively recoiled, as though a massive predator had suddenly revealed itself.
Weapons were raised. Some stumbled backward. Others froze completely.
The squad of elite candidates surrounding Selena immediately stepped forward, weapons gleaming, placing themselves between her and the looming entity. The tension in the air snapped taut like a drawn bowstring.
Selena herself didn't move, but a single bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. Her golden eyes were locked on the figure in front of them, wide with both recognition and disbelief.
"I expected something grandeur," she whispered, almost to herself. "But this… this is insanity."
"Now that's more like it," Kaeryndor said with a satisfied nod, arms folding over his broad chest. "Finally, some normal reactions. That lunatic who came before you? Hah, he was just... Crazy. That's all I can say."
His other hand rose, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his gaze settled on the red-haired boy standing at the front of the group.
"So, you're the one that crazy bastard sent here, huh?" Kaeryndor's voice held a strange mix of curiosity and condescension. A slow, predatory grin formed on his lips.
Without another word, he leaned in, ignoring the wide-eyed children around him as though they were nothing but shadows. His attention honed completely on Areon, his piercing eyes studying every inch of the boy's face.
Areon felt his throat tighten. "S–Senior…?" he stammered, the word coming out dry, uncertain. He didn't understand what this spirit meant, or what kind of test he had already walked into.
And then it struck.
A wave of pressure raw and suffocating descended from above like a mountain crashing down on their shoulders. It wasn't visible, but everyone felt it. The very air grew heavy, humming with ancient power. Most of the students staggered where they stood. Their legs shook violently, teeth clenched as if gravity itself had turned hostile. Some dropped to one knee, others gasped for breath as though the air had turned to molten lead.
But not Areon.
Though he felt the weight press against his chest and spine, though sweat began to form at his temples, he stood his ground. His body tensed, but he didn't fall. The pressure, though immense, was something he could endure unpleasant, yes, but manageable.
He noticed something else.
Selena.
She too remained firm, her back straight and expression unchanging, as if Kaeryndor's aura was nothing more than a breeze. A faint shimmer flickered in her eyes, her mana instinctively reacting, forming a barrier around her without conscious thought. Her unique construction like his was different. Resistant.
Among the sea of trembling bodies and stifled cries, only two remained unfazed.
Kaeryndor noticed it too. His eyes glinted.
"Interesting…" he mused. "Two of you. That bastard really knew what he was doing, didn't he?"
The pressure radiating from Kaeryndor wasn't of brute strength or explosive power it was the weight of his existence, the raw authority of a higher lifeform that had transcended mortality. It wasn't a show of force it was dominance etched into the very air. If he had released his aura with true killing intent, everyone here would've been reduced to ash, crushed under an invisible storm of spiritual might.
Even so, the tension was suffocating. Most of the students looked pale, their bodies trembling as though their very souls were shrinking under the presence of the saint. Eyes widened in horror, lips pressed shut to suppress screams. Some clutched their weapons, while others couldn't even raise a hand.
Areon and Selena remained standing, though their expressions were far from calm. Their bodies held, but their thoughts reeled. This… was beyond anything they had imagined.
A Saint..
A high-ranked Saint-level existence… right here in the middle of the Trials.
Selena's heart pounded violently in her chest. Areon's fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palm.
Kaeryndor, observing the two that still held their ground, raised a brow, intrigued. "Huh… Seems that bastard didn't lie after all." His voice was deep, grating with age, but carried the vigor of a battle-hardened soul. "You... Red haired one. You've got the blood of the Sun God flowing through your veins, don't you? And definitely Dragonwevr, aren't you?"
Areon blinked. For a second, he thought he'd misheard.
Kaeryndor stroked his bearded chin thoughtfully, his glowing eyes narrowing. "The dragon aura on you… It's not quite royal blood, but still astonishingly pure for a human. For dragon blood so diluted by generations to remain this potent… it's impressive."
His fingers tightened slightly on the hilt of the magnificent green-bladed weapon resting on his shoulder.
He's truly gifted. That brat might have been right…
If this boy receives the Dragon Heart, he may very well awaken the path to the Royal Dragon Lineage. The evolution might truly be possible...
Kaeryndor's expression shifted an old burden in his heart stirring with rare hope. Perhaps… he had finally found a worthy one.
Areon's thoughts, however, were in chaos.
What...?
Sun God bloodline?! How does he know about that?!
His eyes widened as the weight of the revelation hit him. His lips parted in shock, but he quickly reined in his expression, forcing a neutral face. Still, his pupils trembled slightly, betraying his thoughts.
Is there a leak in the family? A spy? No only the Elders should know… unless… this spirit had been watching secretly?...
But even as panic brewed beneath the surface, Areon remained composed. He knew that panicking now was suicide. Before him stood a Saint-level powerhouse. If he lost his composure, he could lose much more than just answers.
He didn't need to question now its better to keep mouth shut about this stuff also.... people are around he thought looking crowd around who seems like were busy with there situation must've not heard right?
Forcing a respectful tone, he stepped forward and bowed slightly. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.
"Senior," he said, voice controlled but respectful, "forgive our intrusion. We were teleported here through the sacred tablet's circle. I… I wasn't aware someone of your status would be present. Had I known…"
Kaeryndor waved a massive hand casually, interrupting him.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he grunted. "That's not important. You're in the right place, boy. In fact, you're meant to be here."
He leaned forward slightly, a strange gleam in his eyes. "You're in the right place. You've earned the right to take the test i have judged your capabilities i allow it… to final test to see if you're really worthy of the Dragon Heart."
The words hit Areon like a thunderclap.
Areon's heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened, this time unable to hide the glow of surprise and excitement.
But before he could react, Kaeryndor continued, his voice softer almost fatherly.
"And you can just call me Elder. You're of dragon lineage, after all."
The Dragon Heart… It's was real. It actually exists. So it really wasn't a scam.
Also the tension in his chest loosened slightly, and he exhaled slowly. More importantly… Kaeryndor had allowed him to call him Elder.
That was no small gesture. In dragonkin culture, that was an acknowledgment of kinship a bond. Even if distant, it meant the Saint recognized him as one of their own.
So long as I don't make a fool of myself... he won't harm me.
He's not hostile… At very least.
"Understood… Elder," Areon replied, bowing his head with renewed reverence, his voice steadier now, more composed. His heart still raced, but at least it wasn't from fear anymore it was excitement.
On the other side, Selena remained completely silent, standing just off to the side with a calm but careful demeanor. Her eyes were calm, but sharp. She didn't say a word nor did she intend to.
She knew better than to speak here.
Dragons, especially Saint-ranked ones, were prideful beyond reason. Unless you were of their kin, opening your mouth was the fastest way to get turned into cinders. They were volatile, temperamental, and easily offended. It was unwise to challenge them, or even question them. Not to say then having weird mood swings and several anger issues
Selena's reasoning screamed at her to stay still and let Areon handle this he was the one with dragon lineage. She had no intention of stepping on a landmine.
And so, the tension thinned slightly, but the intensity remained.
---