The forest stretched endlessly ahead—a vast cathedral of ancient trees whispering softly, as if hiding stories older than time itself. Sunlight pierced the dense canopy in thin streaks of gold, illuminating the moss-covered ground. In that glow, dry leaves rustled beneath the careful steps of Jai Veer, Anvi, Ravi, and Diya.
The air smelled of damp soil and wildflowers, thick with invisible life. Jiva Shakti shimmered faintly through bark and roots, a pulse only cultivators could feel. Somewhere far away, a faint scream echoed—then vanished, like a warning swallowed by the forest.
Jai Veer adjusted the belt of his sword. The steel hummed softly in his palm, in rhythm with his heartbeat. The memory of the Tristar Pill lingered—its fierce warmth long gone, but the scar it left on his spirit still vivid.
"I didn't expect it to be this quiet," Ravi muttered. "So… eerily quiet."
"Quiet means someone's watching," Anvi replied, her hand resting on her dagger.
"The woods are never quiet," Diya said calmly. "When they fall silent, they're waiting."
They moved deeper. Light thinned beneath thicker branches, shadows pressing closer. The air cooled; the scent of wet bark and crushed leaves grew heavier.
"So, Veer," Ravi said, breaking the silence, "what's your current cultivation?"
"Eight-star Jagruti (Awakening)," Jai Veer replied evenly.
Ravi whistled. "Not bad. I'm peak nine-star."
"Six-star," Diya added with a faint smile. "Six months in the academy."
"I've been here a year," Ravi said. "So you're the newest."
"I guess so," Jai Veer said, voice steady with quiet resolve.
Anvi glanced back with a playful glint. "Before the arena fight, I was three-star. After it—four-star."
"That's fast," Jai Veer said.
"Pressure helps," she replied simply, earning a light laugh that eased the tension.
They walked on in sync. Jai Veer finally said, "With our levels, Grade-1 beasts are manageable if we move in rhythm. Grade-2s are possible—but only with perfect coordination. Two or three at once is suicide."
"Already doing the math," Ravi teased.
"Or making sure no one dies on their first mission," Diya murmured.
Jai Veer's eyes hardened. "We fight together. We live together."
They nodded—promise unspoken, but firm.
Diya pointed ahead. "There—look."
A tall starfruit tree stood in an open patch, golden-green fruit glistening softly.
"A feast!" Ravi laughed, moving forward.
"Don't rush—" Anvi began, but the warning faded as smiles surfaced.
Beneath the tree, tension eased. The fruit was fresh—sweet with a cool, tart bite. For a moment, even the forest felt gentler.
Then the peace shattered.
A harsh growl rolled in from behind. The ground trembled faintly. Twelve mandrill monkeys burst from the undergrowth—huge, muscular, eyes burning. The leader, a massive female, radiated Grade-2 pressure. The rest pulsed with Grade-1 energy.
Jai Veer's hand went to his sword.
"Draw weapons," he ordered calmly.
Steel answered. Diya's katana gleamed silver. Anvi's dagger glowed pale blue. Ravi's bow pulsed with golden runes. Jai Veer's blade thrummed with life force.
"Anvi, Diya—Grade-1s. Ravi—focus the females. I'll balance the field," Jai Veer said. "Keep formation."
Battle exploded.
Ravi's arrows streaked gold. The leader roared, arms smashing trees apart. Anvi slipped through roots like a shadow, dagger flashing cold arcs. Diya's katana carved graceful, lethal lines.
Jai Veer moved like a storm—steps precise, breaths synced with the team's rhythm. A Grade-1 lunged; he sidestepped and drove his blade upward, clean and final.
This is different, he thought. Not alone.
Minutes blurred—steel, roars, blood, breath. When it ended, eleven beasts lay still.
Only the leader remained.
Bleeding, ragged, it reared. Ravi whispered an incantation. His bow blazed.
"Piercing Sun Arrow!"
Light screamed through the clearing. The arrow struck true. The leader shrieked once—and fell.
Silence followed.
Ravi had taken a Grade-2 and a Grade-1. Jai Veer had five. Anvi and Diya, two and three.
"Good rhythm," Jai Veer said softly, sheathing his sword.
They purified their blades and began refining Jiva Shakti from the fallen. Heat surged, then settled into warmth. Jai Veer's senses sharpened; his breathing steadied.
"Coordination's improving fast," Ravi murmured.
"We've only seen the surface," Anvi said quietly.
Jai Veer nodded. "Then we move."
They headed east until water's roar grew clear. A bright glade opened—river cutting through stone, mist hanging silver, a waterfall whispering of deeper power.
Jai Veer knelt, brushing the cold water. His ring pulsed faintly.
"This flows from the Root," he murmured. "Beyond that is Grade-2 and Grade-3 territory. We don't cross."
They agreed. After washing and filling flasks, they returned to camp. Tents glowed softly under moonlight, faint barriers forming halos.
"Ravi, Diya—rest," Jai Veer said, settling by the fire with Anvi. "We'll keep watch."
Crickets sang. Firelight warmed their faces.
"You didn't hesitate," Anvi said softly. "Not even against the Grade-2."
"I've faced worse," Jai Veer murmured.
"Your parents taught you?" she asked.
"They taught me everything worth living for."
The wind shifted—then a low, rolling growl crawled through the ground.
Ravi stirred. Diya's eyes snapped open. From beyond the firelight, four shapes emerged—coats glowing like molten gold, eyes sharp as blades.
Golden Jackals.
Jai Veer's grip tightened. His ring grew hot, pulsing.
"They followed us," Anvi whispered. "From the river."
The jackals circled—silent, intent—not on the group, but on Jai Veer. His heartbeat slowed. The air vibrated with violence.
Trouble is coming, he thought grimly. And with it… a test of the legacy my parents left behind.
The forest went still.
The jackals snarled.
Under the cold moonlight, the night held its breath.