Chương 157

The climb up the Sleeping Giant was brutal. The dark volcanic rock was sharp and jagged. The afternoon sun beat down on them, baking the stones. Finn had stayed behind at the beach to guard the boat. Rudra and Kratos were making the trek alone.

"My paws are burning," Kratos complained. He carefully stepped over a wide crack in the rock, his tail twitching in annoyance.

"This is a volcano. Do you know what lives in volcanoes? Lava. We are going to fall into a giant pit of lava, and it's going to be your fault."

"Just keep walking," Rudra said, pulling himself up a steep ledge.

"The map says the crater is up here. And I don't smell any sulfur."

"I smell burning hair," Kratos grumbled.

"Oh wait, that's just my tail." Rudra laughed and kept climbing. He didn't feel tired at all. Because of his high stats, his stamina was practically endless these days. He didn't even need to stop for a water break. He grabbed the final edge of the rocky rim and hauled himself up. He stood at the top of the volcano and looked down into the crater. He expected to see a bubbling pool of molten rock and fire. Instead, he saw green. The inside of the massive crater was a lush, hidden valley.

It was a perfect, untouched paradise. A crystal-clear stream flowed down the inner wall, pooling into a small, sparkling lake at the bottom. Thick, ancient trees with wide green leaves grew everywhere. Nestled among the trees were dozens of small, dome-shaped stone huts covered in soft moss. It was completely silent. The violent storm wall outside kept the rest of the world away.

"Well," Kratos said, finally pulling himself up over the edge. He panted heavily and shook out his golden mane.

"That is definitely not lava."

"Come on," Rudra said. They hiked down the inside slope of the crater. The air here felt different. It was cool, crisp, and incredibly clean. It felt like stepping into a time capsule. As they reached the bottom of the valley, Rudra heard a soft rustling sound. He stopped walking. He rested his hand casually on his staff. Kratos's ears twitched. The lion sniffed the air and looked toward a cluster of large fern bushes.

"Someone is hiding," Kratos whispered.

"Should I bark at them?"

"You're a lion. You roar, you don't bark," Rudra sighed.

"And no. Be nice." Rudra took a step forward.

"Hello?" he called out.

"We aren't here to hurt anyone." Slowly, a small face peeked out from behind a giant green leaf. It was a young boy. He was wearing an incredibly old, dusty grey tunic. He looked human, but his ears were slightly pointed, just like the people in Rudra's vision back at the temple. A few more kids peeked out from behind the trees. There were about ten of them. They stared at Rudra with wide, curious eyes. Then, they looked at Kratos.

"Is that a dog?" a little girl whispered loudly to the boy.

"I am a majestic beast of the wild," Kratos huffed, puffing out his chest. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The kids giggled. They didn't seem scared anymore, just curious.

"Stay back, children," a frail voice called out. The kids instantly stopped laughing and stepped aside. An old man walked out from one of the stone huts. He leaned heavily on a twisted wooden cane. He had a long, flowing white beard and deep, tired eyes. He wore the same dusty grey robes as the children. Rudra recognized him immediately. It was the exact same Elder from the library vision. The man hadn't aged a single day. The Elder walked forward slowly. He squinted at Rudra. Then, his eyes widened.

He dropped his wooden cane. It clattered against the stones. The Elder's hands started to shake. He didn't look at Rudra's face. He was staring directly at the heavy blue and gold aura radiating from Rudra's body.

"That energy..." the Elder whispered, his voice trembling.

"It cannot be. The Pioneer's light... A Staff Saint?"

"Yeah," Rudra said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nice to meet you." The Elder fell to his knees. He bowed his head deeply. The kids gasped and quickly copied him, dropping to their knees in the grass.

"Get up, please," Rudra said quickly, stepping forward to help the old man up.

"You don't need to do that. I'm just a guy passing through. My name is Rudra." The Elder looked up at him, tears welling in his eyes. He took Rudra's hand and slowly stood back up.

"I am the Elder of the Scribes," the old man said softly.

"I never thought I would live to see another Saint walk the earth. The world... it must be changing again." Rudra let go of his hand.

"You're the guys from the library. The ones who packed up the history books." The Elder looked shocked.

"You know of the Great Sealing?"

"One of my skills allowed me to see the Lost History," Rudra explained.

"I saw a vision of it back at the ocean temple. I saw you put a golden book into an iron box. And I saw you cast a massive white magic circle." The Elder sighed heavily. He picked up his cane and looked around the quiet green valley.

"That was a very long time ago," the Elder said.

"When the sky turned black and the world began to end, we fled to this crater. We cast a massive time-lock spell over the entire valley. We effectively froze ourselves in time, sleeping through the apocalypse."

"Did it work?" Kratos asked, sniffing a fern.

"Yes and no," the Elder replied, looking at the talking lion with mild surprise.

"We survived. But the spell took a heavy toll. Many of us did not wake up. Out of thousands, there are less than five hundred of us left. Mostly children. I am the only Elder remaining." Rudra felt a pang of sympathy. They were just scholars hiding from a disaster.

"We woke up a few decades ago," the Elder continued.

"We have been living in this valley ever since. The Storm Wall outside keeps the monsters away. But we are trapped here."

"Well, the wall is open right now," Rudra smiled.

"My aura kind of pushed it out of the way. You guys can leave if you want to." The Elder shook his head slowly.

"The world outside is not ready for our knowledge yet. But tell me, Rudra... how did you become a Saint? It is a path of immense hardship."

"Honestly, I just hit things with a staff until I got a class," Rudra joked. But then his face turned serious.

"Lately, though, I've been trying to figure out what it actually means to be at the peak of something. Not just in fighting, but in production." The Elder raised a bushy white eyebrow.

"Production?"

"I'm a cook," Rudra explained. He sat down on a large, mossy rock.

"For a long time, I was stuck. I was cooking food, but I wasn't really improving my skills. I was just using high-level ingredients and alchemical techniques to make better food." The Elder walked over and sat on a smaller rock across from him. The children gathered around, sitting in the grass and listening quietly. Kratos laid down and closed his eyes for a nap.

"I felt I wasn't improving properly," Rudra continued.

"I was letting the ingredients do all the work. So, a few days ago, I stopped. I put all my rare items in my inventory. I started using basic fish and cheap salt. I've been trying to master the actual feeling of cooking. Heat control. Harmony. I'm trying to make good food out of basic stuff." The Elder stared at Rudra. A wide, genuine smile slowly spread across his wrinkled face. He started to laugh. It was a raspy, dry laugh, but it was full of pure joy.

"You figured it out," the Elder chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye.

"A Staff Saint who understands the true path. It is brilliant."

"Figured what out?" Rudra asked.

"You have discovered exactly why there has never been a Production Saint in the history of the world," the Elder said, leaning forward.

"Not a blacksmith, not a tailor, not a cook. Only Legends exist in those fields." Rudra leaned in, totally focused. This was massive lore.