The surrounding Nora murmured among themselves, disbelief evident in their whispers.
Teersa's expression remained unreadable, but a flicker of amusement crossed her eyes. "And thats why, I wonder, why would a young man willingly abandon his home and kin?"
Max didn't miss the test in her words. He could say it was for adventure or personal gain, but that wouldn't earn him the respect he needed. Instead, he answered with confidence.
"Because our people are afraid of what lies beyond these mountains," Max said. "We hide from the past, from the knowledge left behind by the Old Ones. But if we want to survive, we must evolve. I intend to find that knowledge and bring it back."
The murmurs grew louder—some in shock, others in disapproval. The Nora hated the Old World's technology, seeing it as the cause of the ancient apocalypse. To speak of embracing it was nearly heresy.
Yet Teersa didn't seem offended. If anything, she looked intrigued.
"You speak boldly," she said. "Perhaps too boldly for the likes of those around you." She glanced at the gathered warriors and elders, their expressions ranging from discomfort to outright hostility. "Yet... your words hold merit."
"You can't be serious! You have already allowed one exile to return and made her a Seeker, and now another one? No wonder Mother Mountain is no longer protecting us!" an outraged Matriarch protested at Teersa's words.
Teersa merely shook her head. "Mother Mountain did protect us, but we must find out why the machines are going mad and attacking us unprovoked."
"Then let us all die," the most rigid Matriarch scoffed, turning away and flinging her hand dismissively as she left.
"Leave her be. She's too afraid to even think clearly," Teersa said, waving off the dissent as she turned to Max. "When you are weak, you must prove you are brave. Only then will I allow you to become a Seeker."
"Go and defeat ten Braves—only ten. Then I will allow you to leave the mountain and step into the vast world beyond."
Max nodded firmly. "I will do it," he replied with determination before turning on his heel and heading toward the training grounds, where the Braves tested their skills in combat.
Max made his way to the training grounds, his mind already focused on the task ahead. The Braves were hardened warriors, trained since childhood to survive the dangers of the wilds, but Max wasn't just any ordinary outcast. He had his powers, limited as they were, and the advantage of knowledge from another world.
As he approached, the Braves were in the middle of a sparring session, their spears clashing, arrows flying, and bodies moving with agility honed through years of training. A few of them noticed his presence, scoffing at his audacity.
"Look at this fool," one of the Braves sneered. "An scrawny kid like him thinks he can challenge us?"
Max ignored the mocking tone and stepped forward, his expression calm but firm. "I need to defeat ten of you. Who's first?"
Laughter erupted among the Braves, but one of them, a tall warrior with war paint streaked across his face, stepped forward. "Fine. I'll entertain this madness. Don't cry when I break your ribs, kid."
Max just smiled in response. "Try me."
The fight began instantly, the Brave lunging forward with a swift spear thrust aimed at Max's chest. Max sidestepped with ease, his movements precise. He had no intention of holding back. With a sudden burst of speed, he ducked under the next attack, delivering a sharp elbow to the warrior's ribs, making him stumble.
The Brave recovered quickly, swinging his spear in a wide arc, but Max saw it coming. He leaned back, dodging by a hair's breadth before stepping in and slamming his fist into the Brave's stomach. The warrior gasped as the air was knocked out of him, and before he could react, Max swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
Silence followed for a brief moment before murmurs spread among the other Braves. The first opponent was down.
Max rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "Next?"
This time, two Braves stepped forward, their expressions more serious. They had underestimated him once. They wouldn't make the same mistake again.
Max smiled. "Good. Let's get started."
The two Braves wasted no time, rushing Max from both sides in a coordinated attack. One wielded a spear, thrusting it toward his ribs, while the other came in with a short blade aimed at his shoulder.
Max's eyes flickered with sharp focus as he sidestepped the spear, feeling the wind of its movement graze past him. At the same time, he raised his forearm, blocking the knife strike before twisting his body to deliver a sharp kick to the knife-wielding Brave's knee. The man stumbled back with a grunt, but Max didn't stop. He spun around, grabbing the spear shaft of the first attacker and yanking it forward, throwing the Brave off balance.
Taking advantage of the moment, Max delivered a swift elbow strike to the warrior's temple, knocking him unconscious before turning to the other, who had regained his footing.
The Brave hesitated now, realizing that this was no ordinary craftmaster kid. Max grinned. "Your move."
With a growl, the Brave charged again, slashing wildly, but Max was already predicting his movements. He weaved through the attacks, dodging with precise movements before stepping in and delivering a clean uppercut to the Brave's chin. The warrior's body went limp as he collapsed onto the ground.
The remaining Braves watched with shock. Three had fallen—easily.
Max turned to them, rolling his neck. "Seven more to go. Who's next?"
This time, the remaining Braves exchanged glances before five of them stepped forward at once. It was clear they had abandoned the idea of fighting him one-on-one.
Max nodded. Now this is getting interesting.
The five warriors circled him, trying to box him in. The first to attack was a woman wielding dual daggers, moving in fast with agile footwork, while another behind her shot an arrow straight at Max's chest.
***
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