Blue-feathered Sparrow meat tasted like real glue, mixed with a great amount of plastic-like bits that got stuck between the teeth. I made a mess of my gums when I tried to pick them off with my nails, tasted blood through the process which, being honest, was something I’d gotten way more used to than I would’ve wanted.

  In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have tried to absorb a Golden Core and two Silver Cores in one night, but as occasion demanded, I didn’t want to waste too much time on a single spot.

  Forests were dangerous places.

  I was becoming something of a danger myself.

  My internal Core saw a qualitative change after consuming an ungodly amount of beast energy. The bronze hues it gave off now thickened enough to be seen by naked eyes, wisps of it oozing out of my pores when I managed a circulation. This was a sign that I was getting close to the mid-point of Bronze Rank, which considering how short it had been since I’d formed my Core, was a big deal.

  Granted, Silver Rank was where things got good. You’d get skills and techniques of the Path of Glory, the ones that gave many a famous hero their names in their early careers. Lightning Step Laurel, Stonebreaker Kaus and so on. They all showed their potential during the Silver Rank.

  I was planning to do the same.

  Before that, however, I wanted to try my Practical Runes in a more calculated way. As in, I wished to see how far I could push myself in this survival scenario. I had my magical leather, right? I had enough ink to last me through the month. Why not utilize them to the best of their potential?

  I crouched low behind a bush, hidden under a giant tree looming before me, the damp forest air heavy on my throat. It was another morning, but the thick canopy was a stinky bastard and allowed only a few streaks of sunlight to pass through. It might as well have been night by how dreary the place looked.

  From here, I could see a cluster of bronze-colored flowers fluttering gently in the wind.

  They stuck close to a neighbour tree that was a good three meters away from me. These were petite flowers looking similar to overgrown daisies, with their petals gleaming alluringly in the dark. A pulse ran through them every few seconds like a heartbeat, which produced a fairly loud sound that echoed across this particular part of the forest.

  It sounded like a bird’s chirping.

  Back on Earth, these would sit good in a bowl, or a flower basket, and would certainly catch quite a few eyes. Here, though, they had a different allure to them. Inside their petals grew a spectacular nectar with medicinal properties that could heal small wounds. Mixed with the right ingredients, it could make for a potent healing elixir.

  Remember that odd young woman who got lost and forced her father and whole family to risk their way inside the forest just because she wanted to find some medicinal flowers for the poor people of their settlement?

  Well, there you had it. She was looking for these.

  A pity she wasn’t here, though.

  These were mine.

  I didn’t need them. They didn’t do anything the Undying wasn’t capable of. Above that, I felt completely fine right now. My body brimmed with energy and my soul energy recovered greatly thanks to the night-long torture session.

  What would I do with them, then?

  I’d use them as bait to practice my Practical Runes.

  It was a simple business.

  Now the trouble with Practical Runes was that the possibilities seemed endless. I could, theoretically, play with this forest as much as I wanted, and yet I knew from prior experience that there were certain limitations. Making it rain, for one, was a no-go.

  Still, I could use the resources available around me. The ground and the trees, the bushes and the flowers, the oxygen in the air and so on. A part of me wished to see if I could summon a lightning bolt or not, but for now, I managed to keep that part in control.

  Yes. Better start with something small.

  That didn’t mean I wouldn’t get creative.

  Today’s hunt was a bold one. Now that I got a taste of Golden and Silver Cores, I wouldn’t be satisfied with a single Bronze Core. That was no challenge. I was meant for more, and more I would hunt with these hands of mine.

  There were a couple of options, but earlier today I caught sight of a territorial conflict that happened occasionally in forests like these. This one was strictly between two groups of badgers. They were mean, small, and vindictive creatures, some of the worst kind of fascists you’d see in this Grade D plane.

  Of the two groups, one side was full of Silvermane Badgers, their numbers somewhere around ten. They might sound like they were Silver Rank creatures full of strength, but in reality, their silver-streaked fur was a farce. They were born in Bronze Rank and remained in the same rank until the day they died. They just didn’t have it in them to become Silver Rank beasts.

  The opposite side was different. They were normally called Brown Badgers, but Belfray had told me that local people knew them as Sly Badgers. They had a habit of stealing supplies from human settlements, and more importantly, they could grow to become Silver Rank creatures even though it was pretty rare.

  These two groups hated each other with passion. Their territorial conflict was bloody, relentless and quite disgusting. They would tear each other into pieces, rip their bones and stick them down the ground like mini gravestones. There was something fascinating about watching them have a go at each other.

  I didn’t know who would win the battle, but there was no doubt the result was going to be bloody. They would need some serious tending. And this close to a cluster of medicinal flowers? They would want a piece of them, meaning they would jump straight into my lap.

  Pulling out the magical leather from my bag, I dipped my pen into the ink bottle and began thinking about my next step. The clever way of utilizing Practical Runes was to use whatever was around you. Don’t try to make something out your ass.

  I checked my surroundings, focusing on the cluster of flowers, up to the tree under which they stood. It had easily over a hundred branches, with small ones looking like hand-shaped wooden spears. Those could make for a good rain. Down the ground, the area nearby the flowers was taken by a string of bushes. It was soft soil underneath.

  The plan came easy. I just needed to be deliberate about the details. So I inscribed each runic letter on the leather with purpose, making sure to not leave out any crucial points. A simple “Make those branches rain” instead of “make the small branches on the tree that’s behind the cluster of flowers rain down on a circular area beside the roots that is exactly where the flowers stand” would give me a hellish rain of every single branch in this forest, at least until my soul energy ran out.

  I couldn’t have that. This was supposed to be a piece of cake kind of operation.

  That done, I simply waited for the battle-scarred badgers to come crawling down my door, my ears perking up when I caught the first signs of their passing. It was a series of soft crunches barely audible for anyone not paying attention, followed occasionally by muffled huffs of pain.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Taking a peek through the gaps of the bush, I saw the first one dragging itself painfully across the stretch, its brown fur riddled with claw marks that shone a bright red. Dried blood dotted its head and around its eyes, which gleamed with a silverish hue.

  A Sly Badger of the Silver Rank.

  My expectation instantly doubled.

  There were about seven more badgers behind the boss, all seven of them seemingly in the Bronze Rank. Some had their claws missing, others had their ears clipped off or torn into an unrecognizable mess of flesh and blood. All in all, they were in a bad condition, likely enough for me to take them on without relying on magical tricks.

  This here, however, wasn’t about me taking them on.

  This was a test to see how viable my approach would be in the middle of a forest.

  The boss looked visibly shaken when it caught sight of the flowers. I actually thought I’d seen the glimmer of hope that appeared right then and there. Some parts of me felt bad at the sight, but I’d been taught to be a hunter and thus knew feelings didn’t have a say here. In this scenario, I was the hunter and I had every right to use whatever tricks I had at my disposal.

  The badger group, as expected, scuttled right toward the cluster of flowers, with the boss taking its time for the group to gather. When they did, it took the first sip from the miraculous nectar, its beady eyes closing in pure glee. Others swiftly followed the leader’s example and began a voracious spree of consuming medicinal fluid.

  That was when I tapped twice to my chest, and activated the first Practical Rune.

  Soul energy wriggled its way out of my chest and fueled the rune, the ground trembling quickly in response. I felt the tremors reach from where I stood to the tree looming above the group of badgers, where they focused on a circular area. The leader hissed back at the motion, its instincts probably alerting it to the approaching danger, but a look around it showed no visible signs of one.

  Still, though, it tried to back away, but it was a little too late.

  The ground caved in underneath them, catching all the badgers in surprise. They sunk low with the flowers they so desperately needed, down the earth until the pit reached three meters. I heard the screams and the cries, but my eyes remained open as I pulled at my nose.

  It then rained spear-like branches from the tree.

  I saw at least two dozens of them streaking down into the newly opened pit, swiveling in the air so that their sharp tips turned downward and be ready to pierce flesh. Soft, muffled squelches followed soon after, mixed with the shrieks of desperation.

  A Quick Step carried me on through the bushes, around the tree where I stood before the pit.

  Looking down, I saw the state of the badgers with my heart thumping in my chest. I knew the Bronze Rank ones wouldn’t stand a chance, but to actually see them get mutilated by sharp branches left me breathless.

  I almost felt bad at the sight, but quickly recovered when I saw a furry shape still struggling in their midst. It was the Silver Rank badger, who somehow managed to dodge every single branch and remained alive.

  Well, I wouldn’t call it alive since it was already in a bad condition, but its silver eyes gleamed with stubbornness as it raised its head and glanced at me with hatred so deep I actually flinched a little.

  Grasping Beatrice with strength, I considered jumping down to finish the hunt, but changed my mind when the badger clawed at the earth and began working its way toward me.

  They were pretty good climbers, after all.

  I simply waited for it to get close enough for a swing, then hacked a smooth way across its head, sending it sprawling back to the pit. There wasn’t the expected squelch, nor was there any blood. The fur managed to stand fairly well against my half-assed swing. The beast then picked itself up and began a second climb yet again as I braced myself for the second round.

  We repeated the same back and forth for a dozen times until it finally showed signs of fatigue. As a badger, the fact that it could reach Silver Rank spoke to its tenacity, which I admired dearly, but also found it a pain in the ass to deal with. The three-meters-deep pit helped, though, to keep things in control. Slowly, with small cuts and tears, I wore down the creature and watched it breathe its last.

  In the end, I got myself a total of seven Bronze Cores and a Silver Core.

  It didn’t get any better than this.

  ……….

  The rest of the Trial of the Wild was a piece of cake. After dealing with a pair of Golden Taloned Eagles, I had found the other predators in the forest a touch lacking in the danger front. Don’t get me wrong, there were pretty interesting creatures, but since I stayed away from Silver Rank ones and focused generally on the Bronze Rank beasts that lived in groups, I breezed through the next few days.

  Absorbing a Golden Core definitely helped, though. That and the occasional Silver Rank Core I’d gotten by relying on a more tactical approach. Just out of those, my internal energy gained about two hundred Bronze Core worths of source, which pushed me to search for more.

  That was how I became one of the heavyweights of the forest.

  Funny how mentality could change anything. At first, I thought of this trial as something I had to overcome, a burden to carry, a test to endure. After a few short days and life and death struggles, however, I came to cherish the experience. I liked the primality of it. I liked the feeling of being in control, like how it was in those movies that depicted the man versus nature theme to its core.

  I hunted everything I could find. There were days when I would chase one Greytooth after another, finding them aplenty in the forest. Other days, I got dangerously close to being surrounded by Silver Rank creatures, but thanks to my Practical Runes, I was tough prey to catch. Especially General Muffle had turned me into a bit of a menace. A stealthy assassin crouched between the branches, waiting with one sharp sword in his hand.

  On occasion, I would see a group of people passing through the forest. Most of them were Bronze Knights with the occasional rare Mage in the mix. I’d never seen that family of five again, though, which was a shame.

  On the Rune front, I’d refrained from experimenting too much since I didn’t want to get too much attention. Summoning a bunch of rain clouds wouldn’t be ideal in a forest where every beast wanted a piece of me. Little things, however, didn’t hurt. That was how I solved my water problem.

  Granted, having water squeeze out of the tree roots wasn’t ideal, but in desperate conditions, it changed the whole game. It also made me realize that magical leather, or this particular set that I carried, wasn’t really durable enough to endure a harsh life in the forest.

  I had to renew the straps I’d wrapped around my fingers every once in a while, the Practical Runes I came to rely on on a constant basis, which showed me the importance of becoming a true craftsman. When I returned, I would ask Hardel to teach me how to forge real rings, though there was no way of knowing how that hard-ass man would respond.

  He was of a classic mind, the kind that demanded nothing less than perfection from a disciple. To even begin forging something of any worth, I had to first show him that I’d gotten all the basics. That was no easy task. Becoming a blacksmith wasn’t something that was going to happen in a few weeks.

  Either way, I sort of missed my life in the mansion. Hunting for Cores, sleeping in dirt or inside a tree, cooking my own food were good and all, but nothing could beat the comfort of one’s own bed. If this was how a normal adventurer learned to become stronger, then I might have underestimated the difficulty involved in the process.

  I’d found more than a dozen corpses in the week I’d spent in this forest, all seemingly killed by the local wildlife. Some had their heads missing, some others were devoured through and through with only their bones remaining. Nobody came to claim their bodies. They were left to rot.

  No wonder the number of adventurers was so small in the Palark Kingdom. No wonder a majority of people still earned their living from normal things. It was a hard life. It was bloody and demanding in so many ways.

  Take me for example. To become a Silver Knight I had to consume about a thousand Bronze Cores, or train myself until my internal energy thickened enough to allow a breakthrough. I wasn’t even halfway there, but I was at least somewhere.

  I couldn’t believe it myself, but I had a mind to tell Mother and others that I wanted to come here in the future. I wanted to get strong, but more than that, I wanted time just for myself and here, nobody bothered me. I guessed this was how many people in their thirties or forties felt like when they take on hobbies like fishing and camping. They just wanted some silence and peace of mind.

  Those were wise people.

  It was the last day of my trial, and I was waiting for the sky to darken on the same hollow tree, watching the waves of the river splash against each other, spattering clouds of rain about the bushes. It was with a smile that I welcomed Belfray and Radek, who appeared a small distance away from where I stood, but soon I frowned slightly because I couldn’t see my Mother.

  “Where is she?” I asked as the duo approached me, both carrying different expressions.

  Radek looked like he was about to crack a laugh while Belfray seemed as though he swallowed a lump of metal and it got stuck there, somewhere around his throat, making it hard for him to breathe.

  “She’s returned to the mansion,” Radek said, smiling down at me. “We’ll be there shortly, as well.”

  “Why? Is it because of something I did?” I stepped hesitantly back, not sure what was going on here. “I failed the test? That Golden Taloned Eagle—”

  “You passed with flying colors.” Radek shook his head. “And perhaps with a bit too much of a twinkle.”

  “Twinkle?”

  “Congratulations, Young Master, for awakening the Song of the Paragon.” Belfray’s voice was raspy as he bowed.

  “You just can’t help it, can you?” Radek, instead, stepped around and ruffled my hair while something loud cracked across the air. “You freakish brat. Come on. We should get moving. This plane can’t hold two Celestials for too long.”

  “Open the gate,” Belfray said, and Radek obliged, bringing out the Dimensional Sphere and tearing a hole into the forest.

  They placed their hands on my shoulders, ushering me gently toward the shimmering gate.

  I was, once again, left with a bunch of questions.

  What the hell was the Song of the Paragon?

  Was that the inner voice I heard that told me to get on that Eagle?

  ....