Capítulo 3: Winds of Change
The seventh participant had already done it. It is time for Zyrral to move. The crowd went silent, looking for the golden-silver-haired mane to make a move. The soon-to-be most important tiger in the tribe.
Silence fell over the crowd, anticipation building like a storm about to break. Cubs clung to their parents, their small eyes wide with excitement. Even the elders, known for their stoic demeanor, leaned forward, eager to witness the performance of their future king.
Not long after, Zyrral leaped. Left, left, right. Three consecutive times Zyrral stepped on the correct lotus.
The crowd immediately goes wild.
Cheers erupted like thunder, the sound reverberating across the savannah. Stalls selling trinkets and food paused their business.
Zyrral confidently waved back at the crowd, like there is no problem for him doing the publicity stunts in the middle of the rite. He smiled and winked toward everyone, especially for the pale beauty that can be seen smiling with the most beautiful smile.
Her piercing green eyes glimmered like emeralds under the sun, and for a fleeting moment, Zyrral felt his chest tighten. If winning the Rite meant earning her admiration, then no challenge seemed insurmountable.
He looks back at the lotus. Promised success for his tribe. Jumped Right, Left, Right. Like the Rite Administrator that he bribed told him in advance. Without it, he might be failing and bring shame towards the tribe.
'Being soon-to-be king is no joke. I have to do everything flawlessly, or else they will trample the honor I have left.'
The weight of expectation pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he carried it with a combination of arrogance and determination. Ruling means to succeed by any means necessary, even if the path was paved with blood.
He knows there is a way to identify the true lotus and the magic-imbued lotus but chooses not to see it.
'I need to become a God.'
Trickery and cheating are part of being a king.
But in his current condition, too perfect will only bring suspicion among the tribe. It will not make a better outcome in the future. So he deliberately chose the wrong lotus and endured the shame.
Splash
The crowd frowned. Zyrral can see some of the crowd leaving.
The sound of disapproval cut through the air like a dagger. A few murmurs of disappointment grew louder as disappointed spectators began to disperse, shaking their heads.
He will remember them. The potential subject that will go against him.
Zyrral got up from the beginning. Stopped and skipped the lotus once again without fail. The crowd cheered back at the wet Zyrral.
Though soaked and dripping with water, Zyrral held his head high, exuding an air of unyielding that reignited the crowd's energy.
The results are in. Half of the contestants passed the first trial, including Zyrral.
…
The second trial will be harder. It involves sparring against one of the administrators.
The rules are simple. Contestants must touch the administrator on the neck and torso without being touched themselves. Touching the legs does not count.
However, this round, the contestants are allowed to use magic.
A low hum of excitement buzzed through the crowd as the next trial was announced. This was the round where legends were made or broken.
Zyrral is only able to learn three kinds of magic. One is [Flight]. He can lift four of his feet with wind magic for a couple of meters. Second is [Reinforce]. Zyrral can imbue himself with invisible wind armor to reduce the damage that comes to him or amplify the damage from him.
Third magic is Zyrral's favorite. It is his trusted [Spirit Channeling]. This magic can move his consciousness to the wind itself. He can hover in the air, listening and gazing upon the tribe from above.
The thought of his secret skill brought a sly smile to Zyrral's face. It was his ace in the hole, a power that set him apart not only from his peers but also from his elders.
Every tiger knows about Zyrral's first two skills. But the third skill he learned was not from the Tiger magic school but from the forbidden magic parchment that he stumbled upon in the tribe's underground storage.
When he touched it, the parchment disintegrated and entered his skin, leaving no physical object from that. Good thing that no one does some checking, or else the whole tribe will go into a state of panic because one of the parchments disappeared.
The memory of that moment still weirded him out. The strange symbols etched on the parchment had burned into his mind, their meaning still cryptic till this day. It was as though the magic had chosen him, binding itself to his very essence.
If one living thing knows about Zyrral's third skill, it is over for him. He might be executed on the spot even though Zyrral is soon-to-be king.
The first most sacred thing is that the Saber Tooth tiger has its ancient magic knowledge.
Zyrral is now standing in an arena consisting of dried and dusty dirt. A foe appeared in front of him. A fellow saber-tooth tiger has a red star tattooed on his torso. It's a sign that the tiger passed as a soldier for the tribe.
Zyrral's confidence immediately waned.
'There is no way that the administrator I bribed asks a The Red Star soldier to be easy on me.'
Soldiers are loyal only to their higher-ups. No way the higher-ups will yield to the soon-to-be king like me.
"I, Kaleidon, will be your foe," exclaimed the medium-build tiger.
There was no honorary name when addressing an important person such as Zyrral, showing how independent the Red Star soldier is.
Fear begins to settle in Zyrrals' heart. He did not realize the situation was going to be like this.
Begin!
Zyrral charged toward Kale. His foe backed out a bit, assuming a defensive position.
The golden-silver-haired tiger goes up, using [Flight]. Stepping on the air like it is a solid thing. After several meters above, Zyrral launched himself toward the ground with claws in front onto Kale's top torso.
The soldier swiveled around and kicked Zyrral's torso.
Thankfully, Zyrral shifted his left paw to repel the attack before it touched his side torso.
'It is not going to be easy,' says Zyrral inwardly.
Kale forms the rock in his paws and charges towards Zyrral. Propelling himself with his legs' power.
Knowing how well wind magic is smashed against rock magic, Zyrral uses his skill to launch himself even faster towards Kale, changing his trajectory downward towards his foe's lower abdomen.
Zyrral launches himself really fast. His keen eyes desperately navigate his body towards that weakpoint.
But Kale, with his keen eye, intercepted it, making Zyrral smash toward Kale's rock paws.
The golden-silver-haired king falls to the ground under Kale's mercy.
The crowd gasped, the roars of encouragement went into silence. Dust swirled blowing around Zyrral, marking that moment as his humiliation and despair.
The crowd went silent. The optimism for the new king has been changed to pure shame.
Then there were whispers.
Whispers that humiliate Zyrral even more.
'I will never retaliate against the soldiers if I lose. It was clear that some of the sabertooth's organizations wanted to take the power onto themselves.'
'There will be no second chance when I lose.'
But the fact is Kale stands beside Zyrral.
"Do you yield, King?" Kale scoffs. The degrading humiliation that comes from the tone of his sound.
The Red Star soldier is the defender of the Sabertooth tribe. Matching Zyrral with an organization that focuses on power, in a power base match is a really bad arrangement.
'Arrangement …'
'Is it possible that The Red Star rigged the Rite of Passage too?' Zyrral thought to himself.
All his carefree lifestyle looks like a happy situation. But underneath them, many aspects want to drag him down and stomp him.
Without a real king, the tribe is of course going to a turbulent era. Many people want to claim the pie for themselves.
One thing he knows for sure. If anyone triumphs over him in any of these matches, then everyone against him will gain momentum. The worst part is, deep down, everyone is against him.
Zyrral closes his eyes, steadying his breath. At the moment, everything went tranquil.
The whispers faded, replaced by an eerie silence. Zyrral's mind retreated to a place beyond the physical realm, where his thoughts flowed freely, unburdened by the weight of his failures.
All that he sees now is a blue landscape. The color is muted and gloomy.
He can see his body there. Bathed in golden silvery mane. Against all the brownish or goldish fur that belonged to the common saber-tooth tiger.
Zyrral felt like an outlier.
Without wasting any more time, he hovers towards Kale's upper torso and strikes it with all his spiritual power that has crossed beyond the physical realm.
Bam
"Who's th—" Kale turn his back in shock.
Without a second to waste, Zyrral's physical arm already touched Kale's lower abdomen.
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