Having recovered fully from the confusing vision of the sage from an hour ago, Niva said, "I still can't believe she's tracking it."

“I can hear you!” Cecilia yelled from up in the trees ahead of them.

Whoops.

“You’ll learn to trust her eventually,” Ray said with Ezra nodding in agreement.

If she trusted anyone at the moment, it was most definitely Ray, for he struck the image of a proper tank with his large triangular shield and even thicker muscles. Then again, since none of them had arts, their roles didn't matter for now. All they could do was swing their weapons around.

A pebble struck the ground right in front of her in the next moment, which was Cecilia’s way of telling them she had found their quarry.

Immediately afterward, Ray started to walk further in front, Ezra placed both hands on his staff, and Niva brandished her spear.

Alright, Niva thought. Let’s not try to do anything stupid.

Hiding in the undergrowth together with the two boys, Niva watched the adult warthog munch on some berries near a densely populated area of trees. The beast had two large, twisting tusks poking out of its skull. Moreover, its dark brown hide looked as if it could stop an arrow at peak velocity from penetrating.

“Ready?” Ray whispered, his brows set as he looked in the direction of their prey.

After Niva and Ezra nodded in response, Ray crept out of the brush. Despite his size, he made naught a sound as he closed the distance between him and the hog, enacting part one of the plan.

The first step was as simple as the rest of the steps. Strike it hard and fast.

As such, when he got close enough, Ray started a sprint, causing the hog to turn around to assess the sudden noise behind it.

His arm traveling in an uppercut, Ray hit the hog on the snout with the edge of his shield, inciting a squeal from the beast.

Niva winced when the sound echoed through the forest. She hoped there weren't any nearby predators.

However, she quickly refocused and started moving. Because the hog was directing its righteous fury at Ray, who was dodging and weaving between the beasts' charges, it didn't spot her bounding through the trees toward a position behind it, allowing her to set up a sneak attack.

“Time to put the hurt in butthurt,” Niva giggled, angling her weapon.

This next part would require patience because her teammates had to create a surefire window of opportunity.

On cue, Niva spotted three arrows homing in on the hog from above, the wind howling as it parted before them, the boar's hide not tough enough, evidently. Two found their purchase in the beasts’ legs while one of them took it in the eye.

The subsequent squeal tried its best shot at playing a drum solo with the flaps in her ear. She felt sorry for Ray, who was way closer to the beast than her. But, to his credit, he looked unfazed, using the hog’s agony to land another shield bash, causing the beast to go down to one knee.

There would be no better opportunity.

So, like a raised flag during the windy season, her ponytail fluttered back and forth as she dashed through the forest.

Ray gave her a quick look, stepped back, and with the momentum of a rolling boulder, she gored the unsuspecting hog through its side, her polearm penetrating all the way.

Her overzealous behavior resulted in her shoulder tackling the already miserable hog. “Oof,” Niva said, hurting from the impact.

“You went pretty far back. I nearly thought you were running away,” Cecilia said as she jumped out of a tree. She stepped closer to the weeping animal and ended its suffering.

“Ezra, you mean?” Ray laughed, interrupting Niva’s response.

Now that he mentioned it, she didn't see Ezra during the brief battle.

“You guys had it under control,” Niva heard Ezra whimper to her right. The boy stepped from behind a tree with a bark twice as thick as Ray’s legs.

“Yeah, right," Ray said, scoffing. "Help me carry it back to the sect. That’s the least you can do since it will make for some decent number of points.”

Ezra sulked before giving Niva puppy eyes.

“Crazy how large these trees are,” Niva said, taking the time to remove her weapon from the carcass before she quickly turned Cecilia’s way. No way she would allow the fair-looking boy to convince her.

“Right!” Cecilia wrapped her arm around Niva’s shoulder, thoughtfully rubbing it. "How about we inspect–"

Cecilia's head whipped around, and Niva followed her gaze.

Niva thought the hog had been too small for an adult – the carriage-sized monstrosity of a warthog bursting through the forest proved her right.

It demanded respect in every way, shape, or form. For example, where the dead hog’s tusks seemed to say “Fear me!" in an overly aggressive voice, this one's tusks said “Meet your maker” in a whispering, insidious way that inspired fear in a manner a shouting voice could never. In addition, Niva was sure it could swallow half of her body in one gulp because trees were parting as if they were wheat while heavy footsteps rumbled in their direction.

Not waiting for any more heavenly signs, Niva turned and ran for her life. At the same time, her party members commended her on her genius decision by following her without uttering a word.

Mrs. You Are Doomed —she didn't know why she thought it was female— didn't like that one bit. Evident by the booming bellow which put her assumed son’s drum play to shame.

Even though Niva ran as fast as she could, it felt like the thing’s breath down her neck was getting more tangible with every second.

Apparently, she wasn't alone in thinking this.

“We can’t outrun it!” Cecilia yelled over the sound of wood cracking behind them. “We need to turn–”

All of a sudden, a weight pressed in around Niva, resulting in her breath hitching in her throat and causing her to feel constricted.

Her eyes went wide, for every cultivator worth their salt recognized what that meant. Dranga, also called spiritual pressure. Fate had to be playing a joke, Niva thought. What was a bona fide Spirit Beast doing in the green zone?!

“You were saying?” Ray managed to croak out. He only wore a shield, which made it effortless for him to run. That, combined with his leg muscles, made it easier for Niva to accept that he was a fair bit in front of them.

Looking back briefly, Niva saw Cecilia’s blue face. “Run and pray,” Cecilia said, and praying was all that there was left to do as they couldn't outrun a Spirit Beast at their stage.

So, seeing her life flash before her eyes, Niva did something she hadn’t done in years. She sent a prayer out to mother Luneil.

You useless piece of rock, this is your chance to make up for a tiny bit of your slights.

Was that how she should be talking to a god? No. Did she care? Not at all. In fact, she regretted sending out the prayer as soon as she finished. It disgusted her.

Whether the god existed or would answer her prayers would, realistically, stay a mystery to her, forever, as the beast would be upon them any moment now.

Suddenly, the sound of laughter rang out above even the rumbling behind them. “Big brother, today is a fortunate day! Plenty of stones for the picking.”

In the next moment, a disciple carrying an ax that was twice her size rushed out of the other side of the forest.

The boar spun on its axis right in time for the weapon to meet its tusks, and, to Niva's disbelief, she nigh tripped, coming to a stop, the beast slid back over the forest floor, creating small mountains of dirt around its feet.

“One’s threat. Another’s opportunity.” In the same way as Mr. Ax, a disciple had mysteriously appeared. But this time, he stood right next to her.

Elegant. Too elegant. That was Niva’s first impression of the boy as black hair extended past his shoulders, his arms linked in front of him and hidden in his sleeves. His snowlike skin matched his robe. Moreover, she didn't believe she would ever make this comparison positively, but his eyes were the color of an ever-swallowing pool of mud, entrancing her.

"Stay. Watch. Learn," the boy said. His voice sounded so unworried and confident that Niva couldn't help but sit down and follow the fight of his brother.

And what a fight it was.

At first, she thought Mr. Ax was a brute. A prejudice, she knew, yet that's what he came off as. However, his fighting style was as far from her assumption as could be.

Like how sometimes a proficient dancer becomes one with the music, his body and weapon flowed. He laughed hysterically. Yet his attacks were as precise as if he was focusing wholeheartedly. He bounced around erratically. Still, his every step positioned him perfectly to punish the monster who was whining and bleeding profusely.

He again defied her beliefs when his weapon became wreathed in flames. Regardless of her being some distance removed, she could feel the heat, and she understood that the short dance, whose end she loathed, was reaching its apex.

A leaf combusting into flames was her best description of what happened next as his weapon cut into the hog, who seemed no more dangerous than a playful dog before the boy. Albeit an overfed dog.

Following his spectacular attack, the beast wailed on the top of its lungs before its screams died out.

“Ridiculous,” Cecilia said, which got Niva to remove her eyes from the display. She hadn’t even noticed the others.

“Good sir, I know you just saved our lives, and I thank you for saving us,” Ray said, bowing deeply. “But can I be rude and ask what your cultivation levels are?” Niva could see how Ray was practically tip-toeing in place.

The elegant disciple pointed toward his brother who was using his hands to dig into the core of the monster. "High Gron." Next, he pointed toward the boar. "No arts. Early Gron–"

Made sense. Spirit beast cultivation differed from that of humans. As a result, most didn't learn arts until they reached higher stages. Had that been the case, the boar could have perhaps moved the earth beneath its feet to catch them instead of barreling after them like it did.

–Finally, the disciple pointed toward himself. “Peak Gron.”

Niva took a step back together with the rest of her team.

“Peak Gron,” Ezra breathed, visibly having to stop himself from kowtowing.

It wasn’t just about his stage, which was nothing to sneeze at, but about what it represented.

No third-year disciples would be wandering the green zone, so he must be a second year. Adding that not even three weeks had passed since the year started meant he reached Peak Gron in his first year.

To clarify, only the most outstanding talents, the ones Heaven itself decided to touch during their creation, could reach that stage in their first year. He was the literal epitome of what the empire desired, and because of this, Niva feared to utter the words, he may have a shot at becoming the next Akra Soul cultivator.

“A possible Akra Soul candidate,” Cecilia said, obviously not as scared as Niva, her voice containing a hint of pity.

Pity was the right emotion, truly, because, without the explicit permission of the sects, no one was allowed to enter the realm of Akra Soul.

Was the reasoning behind it logical? Yes, since Cella had a limited essence density. However, it still meant that should someone come along with the potential to enter the third realm, representatives of all the sects would come together to judge the cultivator. Hence, when you neared that stage, your will became a null factor.

Whether your specialization was not required, the sect representatives disagreed with your philosophies, or they simply disliked the way you walked; it didn’t matter. If you failed to reach a majority vote during your testing, your cultivation journey ended there, and you would be delegated to remaining a peak Skin cultivator for the rest of your life. Thus, all your hard work could be reduced to nothing by the whims of an assembly. And to make matters worse, if the gathering thought you unfit to ascend, they would place a seal on you to forcefully stop you from advancing.

That said, since the empire needed strong cultivators, they would never reject true talents. Furthermore, if the royal family suspected multiple elders of unfair judgment, a trial would commence with their crime being punishable by death.

Still, the assembly could legally stop anyone. As such, even though you needn’t fear it if you were a golden duck, threshold high-level Skin realm cultivators usually traveled to a few other sects to increase their reputation.

The boy smiled, most likely aware of their thoughts. “No worries.” After his short statement, he left in the direction of his brother, waving them away.

Niva had never seen a dismissal that sudden, cold, yet warm at the same time.

“We didn’t even get their name,” Cecilia said.

Ray showed how different his priorities were. “Do you think they’ll allow us to grab the baby hog?”

Turning around to the sound of rushing steps behind her, Niva saw Ezra running away.

Ray took a deep breath, his shoulders shuddering as he did so, before walking back in the direction of the sect.

Guess that was it for their short adventure.