Grimoire of Cultivation

Chapter 72: Close Encounter

Borg, the giant Terraspike-Rhino, faced Darius. Standing just over two meters tall at the shoulder, Borg's body was armored with thick, black, layered plates that caught the stable lights, giving off a glossy sheen. His fork-tipped horn resembled the curved weapon of a beetle but far larger. The dark plates shifted slightly as Borg moved, showing they were not just tough but also flexible.

His small, sharp eyes, deep-set within his armored head, watched Darius closely, radiating a calm intelligence. With every breath, Borg filled the air with a quiet power, each exhale sounding like a soft rumble through the stable.

"What do you mean, stand my ground?"

"Step forward when I open the pen. He’ll try to dominate you," Marcus explained, hand on the latch, a wry smile on his face. "Just hold your position. If you cower or flee, well, we’ll just see how fast you've become."

"Why not control your beasts? Why all this drama?" Darius challenged, eyeing Marcus skeptically.

"I raise them to respect, not fear me. That respect doesn't always extend to others. Sure, I could command him to accept you, but it would bruise his pride," Marcus explained, his tone practical. "You’re free to pick another mount if you're hesitant."

"No," Darius said, stepping forward, "open the pen."

With a satisfied nod, Marcus pulled the latch with a firm hand, revealing the immense body of Borg.

The beast's eyes flared a vibrant yellow, its armored plates clicking into position as it reared its head, unleashing a thunderous roar.

Darius stood firm, feeling the rush of air from Borg's breath stir his hair, his mind repeating, 'ninety Cauldrons of Force, ninety Cauldrons...'

Borg took a heavy step forward, his armor tensing as he lowered his horn. He scraped his leg repeatedly, snorting clouds of steam into the cool air.

Only three meters away, with the earth rumbling under its weight, Borg charged, horn aimed directly at his chest.

Darius didn’t flinch; instead, he unleashed a surge of his killing intent. Borg's eyes flashed, with a roar, he halted abruptly, legs flailing mere inches from Darius’s face as he reared back.

"Sit!" Darius commanded, his voice infused with earth mana.

Instantly, Borg collapsed to the ground with a thunderous boom, nearly unbalancing Darius. The large plates along its back lifting rhythmically as they produced a strange humm.

"Impressive! He's yielded to you, vibrating his wings is an act of submission. Now, grasp his horn. Firmly, but respectfully."

Darius, casting a brief skeptical look at Marcus, clasped Borg's horn. He instantly understood the advice; the beast's slightest movements threatened to wrest control from his grip. "What now?"

"Nothing," Marcus chuckled. "Holding his horn without him attacking confirms his submission wasn't an act." He motioned towards the exit. "Let's join Percy. You won't need a saddle for Borg. His back provides a stable ride even at full charge." He nodded towards a brown pillow on a shelf inside the pen. "But take that pillow with you, trust me."

"....." Darius eyed Marcus, a mix of anger and resignation crossing his face.

They exited the stables, Darius gripping Borg's horn, guiding the enormous beast after shifting into his disguise, while Marcus led the Winter-Elk Yakul, by the reins, now equipped with a saddle.

The trio set out from the Manor, their mounts clattering onto the cobbled city streets. People parted for them, their faces lighting up as they spotted Sir Kinneman. He responded to their greetings with his signature booming laughter, trumpeting through the crisp morning air. As the group neared the city’s northern gate, the guards nodded respectfully, stepping aside to let them pass without delay.

Borg kept glancing back, his nostrils flaring with each sniff since Darius had changed forms. Annoyed, Darius nudged the beast forward. "It’s still me."

Marcus, with a cheerful grin, clapped his hand on Yakul’s neck. "We've got about half a day’s ride ahead. If we keep pace, we’ll inspect the mine and return by evening. Are both of you ready?"

"Yes, father."

"Ready."

"Then let’s go see about a mithril mine, boys!" Marcus called out, snapping Yakul's reins. The Winter-Elk responded with a deep, hollow call before leaping into the sky, bounding forward with explosive speed.

"Now that's a mount!" Darius shouted, his eyes following the trail of sparkling ice left by Yakul.

Percy snorted. "Don’t get left behind." Mounted on Sabre, he smirked as the beast’s wings flapped once. With a single bound, the Skyblade Panther soared, leaping into the air and gliding after Yakul. A second flap of its wings sent a shockwave through the air, propelling it forward with astonishing speed.

"One leaps, the other glides," Darius admired, giving Borg a reassuring pat. Settled on the brown pillow, he urged, "Let's see what you can do. Follow your master, Borg!" In response to his words, he felt the plates beneath him shift as the surrounding earth mana stirred.

Borg gradually started into a gallop, his massive limbs thudding against the ground. His initial pace was, unexpectedly slow. "Is this a joke? That does it, I'm kicking Kinneman's ass!" Darius was about to dismount when Borg roared, the ground beginning to blur beneath them as their speed increased.

Settling back, Darius felt the rush of wind against his face. "So you're a grower, not a shower," a slight grin spreading across his face as their pace quickened. The air began to heat at the tip of Borg’s horn, forming a thermal barrier that sliced through the landscape like a burning comet.

They journeyed on, each beast traversing the land in its own distinctive way. Yakul, magnificent in his approach, leaping in wide, soaring arcs through the sky, trailing ice crystals that glittered in his wake.

Percy, aloft on the Skyblade Panther, glided effortlessly. The beast's colorful wings occasionally flapped, propelling them forward with bursts of speed that sent shockwaves through the air.

Darius and Borg brought up the rear with the most dramatic flair. The ground shook for kilometers, thunderous sounds echoing like rapid explosions. Visually, Borg resembled a fiery comet, his yellow-hued trail tearing through the earth and stirring up a vast cloud of dust as they sped along.

Smiling, Darius leaned forward slightly. "You weren't my first choice, Borg, but you're an excellent mount." His smile took on a mischievous edge as he asked, "Want to have some fun, Borgy boy?"

In what seemed like a response, Borg let out a mighty roar and tossed his head back repeatedly, powering through the open field with increased vigor.

Darius extended his vision, enhancing his Arcane Gaze to scan the path ahead. After a moment, he spotted something. "Let's see what you can do!" Leaning forward, he placed his hands on Borg's head, guiding him slightly to the right.

Ahead, Marcus descended from one of Yakul’s leaps, spotting the fiery trail behind them taking a slight detour. 'What is he up to?' Eyeing their eventual path, he caught on to Darius’s antics. "I really like this kid."

Darius, his eyes alight with excitement, urged his mount onward. "Don't stop, Borg!" he called out. As Borg continued his thunderous charge, Marcus's laughter echoed across the landscape. A lone Spider-Ape, caught off guard, looked up just in time to see a massive cloud of dust led by a blazing horn barrel towards it. Moments later, Borg tore through the beast, leaving nothing but vapor in its wake.

Above them, Percy grimaced as he glided on Sabre. "That didn't seem quite fair, though it’s too bad the crystal’s dust now." He swallowed hard, mentally noting to treat Borg better in the future.

Wiping away a stray drop of blood, Darius chuckled and gave Borg a pat. "Maybe that was overkill, but well done. Let’s head back."

Borg veered slightly to realign with the others on their way to the survey site. Marcus glanced at Darius with an approving grin. "Enjoying yourself?!"

Unable to contain his enthusiasm, Darius projected his voice energetically, "Couldn't resist!"

Both their attentions snapped forward suddenly. Percy, noticing the shift, looked between them puzzled. "What's going on?!"

"We've got company!" Marcus's smile vanished, his voice tense. "I'll handle the talking! Stay quiet!"

Darius noticed Marcus's grave expression, more than just wariness etching his features. "Do you know who it is?!"

"Unfortunately, I do," Marcus replied tersely. "It's Lady Clarke!"

Percy's eyes shot forward, his cheeks flushing as he spotted a large mass of clouds on the horizon.

Feeling a headache begin to brew, Darius strained his Arcane Gaze, pushing his vision until he could see what had unsettled Marcus. "She's on a Storm-Giga?!"

On the horizon, the giant reptile emerged, its body cutting a massive silhouette against the stormy sky behind it. Its grayish-blue scales, charged with electricity, flickered like distant lightning. With each step, the earth rumbled, and the glowing lines along its body pulsed. Its long neck moved with a slow, deliberate grace.

Its four massive legs, as thick as tree trunks, seemed capable of easily flattening a horse, while its long tail, wide as a cart at the base, swung in broad, lazy arcs, stirring clouds of debris.

As they approached, a vivid yellow aura flared from the Storm-Giga's back. Marcus's aura blazed in fiery response.

Lady Clarke's aura settled into a simmer as they closed in, the beast now looming large, towering five meters at the shoulders and stretching ten meters long. Darius whistled, pulling Borg to an abrupt halt.

"I have to get one of those," Darius's eyes lit up with the unabashed glee of a child as he looked up at the towering creature.

Lady Clarke emerged from the haze, her presence as commanding as the beast she rode. The muscular woman, clad in a full suit of heavy armor except for a helm, radiated undeniable power. Her short black hair framed a stern face, with full lips and bright yellow eyes, she embodied a striking balance of beauty and strength.

As she appeared, Marcus's demeanor brightened with forced cheerfulness. "Clarke! Heading back from the hunt?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, her voice cool as she responded. "Yes, Marcus. Decided it was time to head home after I got bored."

Her gaze swept over the group, sparking a brief moment of tension as her eyes paused on Darius. Percy, awkwardly perched on Sabre, flashed an unnoticed smile her way, only to receive a dismissive glance in return.

Sensing the potential for disaster, Marcus kept his tone light and overly friendly. "Well, always good to run into you, Clarke. We are on a tight schedule, so greetings will have to be short. Safe travels back!"

Her nod was brisk, her impatience to leave clear. "Same to you," urging her Storm-Giga with a swift command. The massive creature continued, carrying her away with an earth-shattering march.

Once she was out of earshot, Marcus’s laughter echoed, a touch too exuberant, as if to mask the stress of their brief encounter. The group visibly relaxed, the tension evaporating as Lady Clarke's figure shrank in the distance.

"Alright, let’s move on," Marcus finally said, his chuckle fading. "We’ve still got a site to inspect."

With collective sighs of relief, they nudged their mounts forward, the recent encounter with the formidable knight quickly fading into the background as they focused on the path ahead.

----

Not long after Darius's group had split from Lady Clarke, a crowd swelled at Floeur d'Alene's northern gate, buzzing with anticipation.

"She's back!"

"I wonder how many she killed this time?"

"Titan's so huge! I heard he was only a juvenile."

"Lady Clarke! Lady Clarke!"

A small group of women amongst the crowd erupted, calling out as Lady Clarke approached the gates. Smiling, she gazed down from her mount. "Always good to be home! And yes, I've brought back some gifts for everyone!"

She tapped her pouch, materializing several large mana-beast corpses, including a massive Forest Guardian. The crowd gasped and cheered at the display.

Lady Clarke jumped from Titan, landing with a solid thud. "Take these to the city's butchers and distribute the meat. If it's not enough for a week's supply for everyone, let me know—I have more."

Gratitude washed over the crowd's faces, a few visibly moved by her generosity.

As the townsfolk swarmed around her, a young woman in a bright yellow cloak elbowed through, "Lady Clarke! Report!"

"That's enough, everyone, give her space." Her firm command parted the crowd, making room for the woman in yellow. With a relieved shake of her head, she approached Lady Clarke and began whispering urgently.

As she listened, Lady Clarke's aura solidified; her manaforged gauntlets, vambraces, and sabatons materialized, her eyes starting to glow fiercely. "That shifty old man looked like he was hiding something."

Without a moment's pause, Lady Clarke vaulted back onto the Storm-Giga. She spurred Titan around and kicked into a full charge towards Marcus, her voice booming across the field, "Finally! Something interesting! TITAN...CHARGE!"