Hank and Ryan mounted their Overload Juggernaut and headed toward Silverstone Hills. The rolling dunes gradually flattened,
before them, the landscape shifted—dry, barren land gave way to clusters of hardy shrubs and drought-resistant plants.The brush grew thicker, vibrant greens now splashing across the terrain where only dull yellows had been before.
Ryan brushed sand from his coat with relief. "Finally out of that damn oven."
Hank hushed him with a sharp gesture. "Shh."
Ryan stiffened, scanning the dense thickets that now obscured their sightlines. Hank pointed toward a gap in the foliage. "There."
Through the tangled branches, Ryan glimpsed figures moving with purpose.
"Damn, you scared me. Just people. Wildhunters?" he whispered.
Hank shook his head. "Mercs. Setting traps. We'll circle wide."He tugged the reins, veering their path.
Ryan frowned. "Why not just go through?"
"Mercs got tempers shorter than a matchstick," Hank muttered. "Bother 'em, and they'll rearrange your teeth."
They veered away from the mercenaries and pressed on. They rode in silence until Ryan broke it. "How much farther to the hills?"
Hank gestured ahead where a ridgeline emerged from the haze. "There. Silverstone."
Suddenly, Hank leaned forward, eyes locked on a disturbed patch of brush. "Told you the cadets would hit the hills."
Ryan squinted but saw nothing unusual.
"What am I looking at?"
"Fight signs."Hank dismounted in one fluid motion, securing the Overload Juggernaut to a twisted tree. Ryan followed as Hank moved into the brush. The foliage was disturbed—branches snapped, leaves trampled. The ground bore the chaotic marks of a struggle.
Hank scanned the area like a seasoned tracker, eyes darting from one clue to another. He crouched, examining crushed grass, then suddenly grinned. "This way!" With practiced ease, he pushed through the brush. "Got it! Ha!"
Ryan caught up and saw Hank kneeling beside a fallen Wild Beast. The creature stood about waist-high, its compact, muscular form resembling that of a primate, covered in thick black fur.
Wounds marred its body, fresh blood still glistening. Its skull had a gaping hole—whether it once housed a Lumin Core was anyone's guess.
"Obsidian Armored Ape," Hank said, already drawing his iron sword. He set to work skinning the creature.
Ryan wrinkled his nose. "What are you doing?"
"Its hide is tough—perfect for making light armor. The meat, though? Tastes like lemon. No one touches that crap."
Hank worked the blade across the ape's hide, but the tough leather resisted.
The blade scraped against the dense fur with a nails-on-stone screech,barely making a dent.
He scowled. "Should've bought a decent goddamn sword. This thing's tougher than I expected."
Frustrated, he gave up and hefted the entire carcass. They returned to the Overload Juggernaut, where Hank produced a medium-sized bloodveil bag and sealed the carcass inside.
Once secured, they mounted their beast again, the bag wedged between them, they rode on—the Silverstone Hills looming closer with each thunderous step.
Before long, the hills came into view.
"We're here!" Ryan called out.
Silverstone Hills stretched before them—rolling terrain studded with pale, weathered rock and patches of lush grass. Wisps of mist curled over the ridgelines, and sunlight pierced through the cloud cover, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the landscape. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, lending the place an almost tranquil stillness.
Ryan couldn't help but ask Hank, "You said this place is relatively safe?"
Hank nodded, unbothered. "Relatively, yeah. No powerful beasts roam here."
"Why not?"Ryan pressed.
Hank tipped his chin toward the distant peak. "Because of The Slumbering One—Asklarr."
"The Slumbering One?" Ryan frowned, a prickle of unease crawling up his spine. "What the hell is that?"
Hank's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "A dragon."
"A dragon?!"Ryan's pulse spiked. Holy shit, this world has dragons?!
For a moment, he just stared, his mind reeling. That was not something he'd accounted for.
"How the hell is this not a multiplier of danger?!" His voice sharpened. "Are you trying to get me killed?"His eyes locked onto Hank, searching for any sign this was a joke.
Hank chuckled lightly, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, Asklarr only eats beasts. And it's picky—only the powerful ones"
"So..." Hank's gaze swept over the calm hills surrounding them. "The powerful beasts don't dare come near here. That's why this place is relatively safe."
Hank's explanation eased some of Ryan's unease,but then a thought suddenly struck him.He pointed at the Overload Juggernaut they rode. "Does this count as a powerful beast?"
Hank paused, clearly caught off guard by the question. His expression stiffened for a moment, and then he recovered, his voice hesitant. "Well... this... this..."
Ryan's eyes darkened, and a trace of accusation entered his tone. "You've never been here before, have you?"
Hank let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "No. The Wildhunter Corps avoids this zone—the beasts here aren't worth their time." He rubbed his neck. "Only solo hunters or Academy cadets bother with this place. And… I'm not sure if they'd bring Overload Juggernauts." A pause. "But relax.
Asklarr spends most of the time slumbering.
We don't provoke it, it won't stir."
"'Most of the time' being…?" Ryan pressed.
Hank shrugged. "Wakes a few times a year. Eats its fill, goes back to sleep."
Ryan studied Hank's relaxed posture.
It seemed like The Slumbering One really wasn't likely to attack humans unless provoked.
A grim comfort settled in his chest. Even if the dragon woke and devoured the Overload Juggernaut, it wasn't his problem. Survival was all that mattered.
As he mulled over this, a distant roar suddenly cut through the air.