I watched, first.

Analyzed.

My Mana had to be used sparingly when I channeled, so I couldn't afford a miss.

I watched the Hunters' movements. Their formations. The serpent's rhythm. The way its head snapped before it struck, the way its weight shifted as it coiled and lunged.

There was always a gap to exploit. I just had to find it.

My eyes scanned the battle greedily, continuing to analyze.

And there it was.

A half-breath pause between its top-down lunges, that also forced every hunter to go on defense, since when it's head was reared high, its flexible physiology meant it could target just about anyone in the vicinity.

That window between lunges was my chance.

I waited once more. Playing the scenario in my head over and over, until the moment finally came.

The Serpent's massive head reared back and straight up, at least 20 meters into the air, green eyes searching the ground for the perfect target.

Mana surged. Blood vessels burned. Nerves flooded, my body lit from within.

My knees coiled. And the world blurred as I leapt, the ground fracturing beneath me as I shot into the air with a CRACK.

The serpent's massive jaws parted wide, primed to strike.

But I was already above it.

Red light swirled across my axe. I raised it overhead, mana pumping through every inch of my body.

And then I brought it down.

whup.

Steel met scale. Bone. Skull. It didn't pierce through, but the force alone...

BOOOOOOOM!

....was magnitudes higher than anything a Silver Rank should ever be able to produce.

The serpent's head slammed straight down, the full twenty meters, in a single instant. The ground cratered, shockwaves tearing dust and debris into the air.

I saw the Wildlings stagger and back away in plain fear as the beast reeled, stunned, its body writhing in confusion.

And then I fell. Straight down.

The axe came down with me. Again, another mana-channeled downward chop, heavier now, momentum doubling the force.

I crashed straight back into the top of its skull with a second strike. BOOOOOOM!

The crater deepened, but still, I hadn't manage to pierce its thick skull.

So I swung again. BOOOOOOM!

Again. BOOOOOOM!

I roared in effort one final time as I channeled the last of my Mana, "AAARRGH!", and the Axe came down a fifth time, into the exact same spot.

BOOM! CRACK!

The skull split. Bone gave. Brain splattered. The serpent's scarlet body went limp where it lay.

Silence.

I rose from the crater, wiping blood and fragments of bone off my body, axe hefted back up atop my shoulder as the ground lit gold once more. Veins of light pulsed outward from around me, racing across the dirt, up the hills and into the sky.

Aaah, that felt good.

The hills rolled back in, illusions folding closed, and the audience was revealed.

Stillness. Not a word. Not a sound.

Hundreds stared. The youths from before. The elders above. All the hundreds of clansmen, no one uttered a single word.

I climbed out of the crater, eyeing the Silver Ranks. The smiles of ridicule had been forced into disbelief.

Into fear, etched plain and clear across their faces.

I stood calm in the glow, eyes sweeping the silent masses until they found the Chieftain. His face hadn't changed. Not really. Except for the faintest tug of a smile at the corners of his lips.

He rose.

"Outsider or kin---the Trial of Blood knows no difference." His voice rolled over the hushed colosseum.

"The WILDS...know NO DIFFERENCE."

His gaze burned into me, the gold underfoot blazing brighter with every word.

"This one…"

A pause. His lips curved.

"…is Blooded."

Voices burst into the air all at once as the audience clamored. The youths from before looked on, still in disbelief, and the Silver Ranks...couldn't even meet my eyes.

Pathetic.

I turned, gaze returning to the Chief. "The cub. Where is it?"

He snapped his fingers, and motioned back to the edge of the basin. The cub had simply re-appeared where it had been before, sitting and watching the happenings of the Trial with great interest, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Another illusion? Is he a Gifted..?

It was the most sound explanation that came to mind. And it was a gift powerful enough to warrant someone becoming the Chieftain of a tribe like this one.

Looking out into the audience, a large majority of the clansmen were all Gold-Ranked and above. It was almost as if in the Wildlands, one's age and one's stage were co-dependent. Most teenagers were Bronze-Ranked, most young adults were silver ranked, and every middle-aged man and woman was at least Gold-Rank.

And further analysis showed that amongst the audience, there almost as many Platinum Ranked Hunters as there were Silver Ranked ones. A truly frightening realization, but statistically, it was the most sound.

I motioned up at the cub, telling it to come over, but it stood planted to the spot, stubborn whenever it wasn't called for.

The little shit.

I sighed, deciding to let it do whatever it wanted. The Chief had guaranteed its safety after all, so I wasn't worried.

What was concerning though, were the tens of Hunters that had climbed into the basin to tie up the serpent's body, proceeding to the drag it up toward the basin's edge.

The ground was smeared red with its blood, steam rising as if the beast still breathed.

I looked back up to the Chieftain. "What will you do with the Beast's corpse?"

The Chief arched a brow. "We feast, of course. Anything but would be an insult to the Great Mother."

The Great Mother...is he talking about Lysha'el?

"What of its core?" I asked.

A hunter stepped forward right then, one of the silver ranked, the one with the Beast-claw necklace. His voice rang with the edge of a challenge.

"The Outsider cannot take it! The core belongs to the kin!"

A low murmur rippled across the crowd.

The Chieftain didn't bother rising. He didn't need to. A different Elder appeared in a blur beside the hunter and, without so much as a flinch of emotion on his face, punched him right in the gut. The hunter buckled right in two and collapsed to his knees, vomiting all over himself and the floor.

It was this new Elder that spoke.

"You dare object after such a shameful defeat? You defile our Laws, Rokan! He is no longer an outsider. He is blooded. The Chieftain has made it so. The Great Mother, has made it so."

He looked to me now instead, unblinking, "Worry not, young one..."

"The Serpent's Core, is yours alone to consume."

Then he looked back down at the younger hunter. "This one will be punished with utmost care. This I promise."

I chuckled. "It's quite alright. I took no offense. It is an understandable reaction."

The Elder looked at me with visible gratitude. It seemed their relationship was closer than he let on. Perhaps that was why he was forced to step in here. There was much to learn about their culture, but I had to remember my purpose here in the Wildlands.

Strength. I need strength, above all. Everything else these lands have to offer me...will have to wait.

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