Chương 31: Reunion Under Rain

Two years and five days had passed. It was a lukewarm night with light rain falling gently over the oasis. The pond shimmered with lush, active water running from the big pond, surrounded by thick green palms, towering cacti, and flowering bushes that swayed softly in the breeze. Not far away from me, a big hole that we had opened two years ago accidentally while training was still slowly filling in with sand.

The edges kept dipping inward as the loose grains trickled down into the darkness, like the desert itself was trying to heal an old, opened wound but had not yet fully succeeded. In the middle of this small paradise stood a simple makeshift camp: a flickering campfire, a single all-round tent, and the smell of roasting meat filling the damp air. I sat beside the fire, now a thirteen-year-old teen with a lean, hardened build. My dark red hair was a bit longer and wilder than before.

I stared hungrily at the thick, meaty tail of a Scorpare roasting over the flames. The Scorpare was a monstrous desert predator. Two meters long in body and four meters in height including its double-poisoned tail, the creature was covered in coarse black hair that stood upright like needles to protect from attacks from above. Its tail ended in two dripping stingers that could deliver a near-deadly poison if your Animo was not strong enough to combat it.

Right now the tail was skewered over the fire, rolling slowly as the poison sizzled and caramelized into a glossy, golden glaze. Fat dripped into the flames with soft hisses, releasing a rich, smoky, slightly sweet aroma that made my mouth water.

"So yummy," I muttered, drooling openly. After that, before I could even take a bite, a sudden flashback hit me. I can't wait for his return. I can't wait to show him my improved version of myself, my new moves, and my fire attribute's better potential. Then all of a sudden my mind drifted back, before I could take a bite of the hot, meaty tail. I remembered all the time back from two years ago. It had all started right here, near this very oasis.

When we first arrived, Scorpare were everywhere, lingering around the water like silent predators. The fighting had been brutal and constant. Both Galer and I had been struck by the poison more than once and needed long hours of rest to recover from that agonizing pain. During one of those recovery periods we discovered an ancient underground chamber from that very sand-dripping hole we had opened. There we fought Babuzhl, a mummy monster made of near-fully uncuttable paper-like parchment wrappings.

The battle against Babuzhl was savage. The creature's wrappings were like living bandages that could stretch, tighten, and regenerate endlessly. They lashed out from every direction, wrapping around our limbs and squeezing our chests until we could barely breathe. Galer's light techniques sliced through some layers, but new ones immediately replaced them.

I poured my pumping Heart Flame actively from my heart down into my hands and onto the longsword, cutting through the paper with sheer power, but the mummy simply unraveled and reformed. For hours we fought in the dark chamber, dodging, slashing, and powering through while the wrappings tried to crush us into pulp. We were both bleeding and exhausted when we finally realized the dripping water on the chamber walls was its weakness.

We dragged the monster toward the water, combining my Heart Flame with Galer's light to force it into the stream. The paper hissed and went soggy on contact. Even then, it took us several more days of relentless combat to finally destroy the core and put Babuzhl down for good. That fight taught us how to work together under extreme pressure and pushed both our Animo higher. After that hard-won victory, we truly felt we had grown stronger. Galer began learning telepathy, speaking directly into minds.

It reminded me of someone I had met long ago in Bener, though the name escaped me now. Then, after reaching the surface, came the Scorpare Prime Elders, ancient, far more dangerous specimens with thicker armor and deadlier venom. That campaign alone took months of grueling battles across the dunes. We faced waves of them at night when they were strongest. Their tails whipped like living whips, injecting poison that burned through our veins and made our muscles seize and spasm violently.

I had to constantly cycle my Heart Flame to burn the toxin out of my blood while swinging my sword. Galer used his growing light techniques to create blinding flashes that disrupted their coordination. There were nights when we were surrounded by 5 or more at once, forced to fight back-to-back for hours until the sand was soaked red. The Prime Elders moved with terrifying intelligence, coordinating their strikes as if they shared one mind.

Their armored shells deflected most normal blows, and their venom burned like liquid fire, forcing me to push my Heart Flame harder than ever just to stay conscious. One night, a particularly massive Elder nearly crushed me under its bulk, its tail stabbing repeatedly toward my neck. I was still too far behind Galer in raw power and reaction speed. The world spun as the beast pinned me down, its weight crushing the air from my lungs. Poison burned through my veins like molten iron.

Galer dove in with a desperate roar, his light-infused blade slicing deep into a joint and buying me the second I needed to roll free. He blasted the creature with concentrated light, finishing it off in a blinding flash. We barely survived that encounter, collapsing beside the corpse as the sun rose, both of us covered in blood and venom, gasping for air as the desert wind carried away the stench of death. Each victory felt harder than the last, but every battle sharpened our skills and raised our Animo.

The desert taught us endurance, the night taught us fear, and the Prime Elders taught us that true strength came only through suffering. One year and three months of constant training and fighting passed before the two of us finally decided to separate for a while. After all the suffering and hard-won victories, Galer had come to a quiet realization: I was benefiting far more from our partnership than he was. His growth had slowed to a much smaller scale compared to mine.

He needed space to push himself beyond his current limits without constantly looking out for me. We agreed to meet again after at least seven months. Galer would go solo for a while, seeking challenges that would force him to evolve on his own. I had gone to the Gubu Mountains. Rising 1, 500 meters above sea level, the Gubu Mountains were a colossal wall of jagged black rock that pierced the sky like the spine of some ancient, sleeping beast.

Steep cliffs dropped hundreds of meters into sheer nothingness, their faces scarred by wind and time. Climbing them became my daily training. I scaled the near-vertical walls with nothing but my hands and the burning determination in my heart, fingers digging into tiny cracks, legs pushing against outcrops that threatened to crumble beneath my weight. One wrong move meant a fall that would shatter bones on the rocks far below.

The thin air burned my lungs, and the sun baked my skin, but every meter I gained pushed my body and my flame further. By the time I reached the higher plateaus, my muscles screamed and my Heart Flame roared with life. There, nestled among the peaks, I met the mountain tribes. The people had skin so dark it seemed to drink in the sunlight, deep obsidian tones that glowed with health under the harsh mountain light.

They moved with the quiet confidence of those born to the heights, their bodies lean and powerful from a lifetime of climbing and fighting. I fought their tribe lord, Ashurbasa, a tall 1. 81-meter man with sharp, fierce features and hair styled in tight, neat dreadlocks that fell just past his shoulders. His Animo sat at 3, 170, impressive for a twenty-year-old leader who had lived his entire life on these unforgiving peaks.

The warriors and women of the tribe averaged around 1, 700 Animo, their spirit levels pushing me to match them or be cast out. The trial for outsiders to earn the right to stay in the Gubu Mountains was called Sharaf Filtraab elmabluul -"Honor of the Flowing Log." All outsiders had to complete it, or they would be kicked out immediately. The trial took place on a long, slick water log that ran from the mountain down into the roaring river below.

The log constantly rotated and swayed violently in the rushing current, forcing you to fight while balancing on a moving, wet surface over a deadly drop. One slip meant falling into the churning waters and jagged rocks far below. I tried 67 times. Each attempt brought me closer. The logs were slick with spray, swaying violently over a deadly drop.

Ashurbasa wielded wind with terrifying precision through a spear carved from the Gubu mountain stone, creating gusts that knocked me off balance or sudden vacuums that pulled me toward the edge. I learned to control my own Heart Flame better, using short bursts of fire to stabilize myself or create fast-moving position swaps that distorted the coordination of his attacks and threw off his wind control. Every fall taught me something new.

By the later attempts I could stay on the log longer, counter his spear thrusts with my Heart Fire now allowing my full body, from brain to legs, to burn with power, and even push back against his wind with my own heated pressure. In the end I still could not defeat him, but the experience left me far stronger and more refined in my fire control. Before leaving I bowed and said " Ila alliqa" farewell on your journey, to the tribe folk. As the memory faded, I heard a familiar voice echo softly in my mind.

"Hey… I was not expecting you just yet. I thought I would be first…" I turned east-south. There, standing proudly on top of a tall cactus, was Galer. He had grown taller and leaner, his body carved by two years of brutal training. The grey eye patch still covered his left eye. I grinned.

"You lost your Cavamello as well? You know mine went first, but you always took good care of yours." Galer dropped lightly from the cactus and landed near the fire, speaking directly into my mind before stepping closer.

"I let it go. I did not need it anymore." He sat down across the fire. We both tore into the roasted Scorpare tail. The meat was tender, slightly sweet from the caramelized poison, with a rich smoky flavor that made my eyes roll back in pleasure. Galer spoke first, pride clear in his voice.

"I went back to where Babuzhl told us came from, the ancient destroyed city Naharu not far from here. I fought thousands of those mummies. Two months ago I finally achieved it. Not fully mastered yet… but I can do it. VESTUTO! I am no longer behind my siblings! I am not a failure anymore!" He looked straight at me, twenty years old now, forged through blood and harsh conditions. Then, with a challenging smile, I asked: "Are you ready for a sparring?" Galer's eyes activated. He read my Animo clearly." 1, 840 …

Ohhh, you really came far in 7 months of training….." The warm rain continued to fall softly around the oasis as the two of us prepared to test each other once again under the desert night sky.