Rathlana Turf!
There was an oval racetrack built in the region, stretching a hundred metres wide and ten kilometres long. Within the oval was a plateau, converted to resemble audience stands. Sprawled all across it were what was supposed to be one of the laziest Pranic Beasts on Sumatra.
However, they were currently roaring at the top of their lungs, "Come on!"
"Run! Dammit! Run!"
"Move those legs! Otherwise, I’ll gobble up your entire family after this!"
"I fed you an Elixir! Why are you this useless? Huh? Why?" One of them was on the verge of tears, "I only had that one Elixir! And I squandered it on your useless tail!"
Advanced Gold Grade Pranic Beast—Brimchoir!
They were spectators of a race, screaming at the top of their lungs for the participant of their choice to emerge as the winner.
On the racetrack, followed by an impressive leap to evade a splash of lava, a Shock Lizard slithered forward. It had been moving with furious resolve, leaping past a pit trap. A boulder rolled towards it as the Shock Lizard unleashed its Nature of Prana Shock tangentially, redirecting the boulder to the side.
Taking the chance, the Shock Lizard slithered faster, for a hundred metres from it was a pool of lava that covered the breadth of the racetrack. Beyond the pool of lava was a stone pillar.
Once within Spirit Weapon range of 180 metres, the Shock Lizard unleashed its Prana Shock, targeting the base of the rock pillar.
Boom!
The rock pillar crashed atop the lava pool, spilling the lava to the side while it behaved as a bridge. Before it could sink into the lava, the Shock Lizard slithered over it and made a leap at the final stretch.
"Just like that!" The Brimchoir who owned this Shock Lizard roared happily, for its Shock Lizard was at the lead in the race now. Its face beamed further and further the closer the Shock Lizard approached the finish line.
However, when it was a couple hundred metres before the finish line, a piece of rock, propelled by a Prana Shock, slammed into the back of its head, knocking it to the ground.
"No!" The Brimchoir screamed mournfully, "Get up! Please, get up! Don’t waste the Elixir I fed you!"
Blood dripped from the head of the Shock Lizard that lay sprawled on the racetrack, appearing unconscious. The closest Shock Lizard was still five hundred metres away.
Five hundred became four hundred, then three hundred. Soon, there was less than ten metres between the two.
Right as the second Shock Lizard was about to move to the front, the unconscious Shock Lizard sprang to life.
Primary Nature—Prana shock!
It turned around and unleashed Prana Shock at the second Shock Lizard, knowing very well the enemy that had launched a rock to the back of its head.
The Shock Lizard in second place unleashed a shockwave too, when suddenly, it gawked in shock to see the Shock Lizard in first place jump into the clash of shockwaves between the two. And then, taking advantage of the collision, it unleashed another shockwave to propel itself towards the finish line.
"Hahaha!" The Brimchoir that had fed the Shock Lizard an Elixir roared in laughter, as with a bloody face, its racer rolled into the finish line, "I won!"
It leapt into the race track and grabbed its Shock Lizard, "You made my investment worthwhile. As promised, I’ll feed your family so much they’ll become fat!"
One after another, the rest of the Shock Lizards reached the finish line. At the start, there were fifty racers. Only eleven managed to complete the race. The rest died to the obstacles along the path.
Brimchoirs appeared at the finish line to either praise or chide their respective racers. There was a total of ten at the finish line. The last was a human, who was unleashing a string of curses at his Shock Lizard, "I taught you the means to hasten your speed, launch projectiles, swerve through obstacles, EVERYTHING! You still lost, despite learning all that!"
His Shock Lizard came in second place. It was the one that had launched a stone at the Shock Lizard which made it to first place.
"Hehe, boss!" The Brimchoir, whose racer became the winner, approached the human and gloated, "Fear alone isn’t enough to win a race."
"You must also give them hope."
"Huh?" The human raised an eyebrow and glared at the Brimchoir, clearly feeling irritated, "Just you wait. My next racer will win by a landslide."
The Rathlana Turf was exclusively controlled by the Brimchoir Race, being the only native to the place. They were territorial and didn’t allow any other Pranic Beast to enter the region.
With the death of Brangara, they tried to make waves on Sumatra. However, ever since the human amongst them began living in the region, they gave up that plan altogether and only sought to continue life as usual.
And to pass the time, they caught a variety of Iron Grade Pranic Beasts from the bordering regions and hosted competitions among themselves. The racing competition with the Shock Lizards was just one of them.
"Up next is a roller-ball competition. We cycle through the competitions without any repetitions between the sports." The Brimchoir that won the racing competition addressed the human smugly. "Did you forget the rule you set in place, boss?"
Quip Guardian—Root!
"I didn’t forget," Rolling his eyes, Root groaned in annoyance. The competitions were his idea, since simply sitting on the Major Treasure of Turnip was boring. At first, the Brimchoirs were scared of what he might be scheming.
But over time, they became invested in the sport and warmed up enough with Root to taunt and even argue with him. Of course, they never insulted or tried to harm him. None among them was so foolish.
The human before them seemed to embody the epitome of harmlessness, but in truth, was one of the most dangerous predators on Sumatra, standing at the top of the Continent’s system of power.
"I will let you know one thing," Root huffed arrogantly, "I have been preparing for this sport for the past two months. Victory is guaranteed to be mine."
"Are you sure, boss?"
"Of course," Root harrumphed.
"Shall we make a bet?" The Brimchoir asked, "We’ll wager one of our winners."
"No!" Root shook his head violently. Among the various creatures he had prepared for the competitions, only two ended up winning their respective competitions. They repeatedly won their competitions.
Root only had two of them, and these two were the only reason he didn’t have to be embarrassed to talk with the Brimchoirs. He didn’t like losing every competition.
If by chance, he was to pledge one of his winners and lose the bet, Root would cry from embarrassment.
"It seems the boss isn’t confident." The Brimchoir taunted.
"Fine, you have a deal!" Root cursed under his breath and accepted the bet, "We’ll bet one of our winners."
"If I win, I’m taking your boxer." The Brimchoir sang happily, confident in winning the upcoming contest.
’I know it was a simple taunt, but I’ll be embarrassed if I have to scheme even in such a situation.’ Root groaned in thought as he accompanied the lazy group of Brimchoirs and moved towards the next contest location, alongside the contest takers.
Suddenly, his skin prickled as a sound wave washed over him. It was at a frequency that resonated with his body. And hence, only Root could sense it.
As the Brimchoirs continued to walk unawares, Root stopped in his spot, focusing on the piece of information that appeared in his mind space.
[Root, I need you to kill our Deity’s enemy!]
’What...in the nonsense is this?’ Root thought once he had digested all the transmitted information. ’My Deity reincarnated as a Brully? A mere Brully?’
"Now, that’s an insult." He muttered.
"Did you say something, Boss?" A couple of Brimchoirs turned around in wonder.
"I need to leave for a short while." Root groaned, "I have some work to do."
"Pause the competitions." He said and leapt away, his every leap covering hundreds of metres, "We’ll resume once I return. It won’t be long, so stay put until then."
"Okay, Boss!" The Brimchoirs echoed their voice in unison, "Happy hunting!"
As he moved, Root’s legs kicked the ground with more force gradually. He tried to be as stealthy as possible and left the Rathlana Turf.
He crossed multiple regions and ran across a barren piece of land that had been crippled by the Mudroppers in the past. Hardly any patches of grass grew here, with a small population of Iron Grade Pranic Beasts dwelling across the place.
Arriving here meant it was hard for any prominent group to become aware of his movements. Immediately in response, Root cranked his strength to the limit and caused fifty-metre-wide craters upon every leap, covering a couple kilometres each time.
Faraway, a Silver Grade Pranic Beast preyed upon a group of Iron Grade Pranic Beasts, having a comfy lunch. Suddenly, its body trembled, as something seemed to register on its Prana detection means.
However, before its brain could fully process the skin prickle, the Silver Grade Pranic Beast noticed that it was now in the air, held in the hands of a giant creature.
"Hello," Root said in his Quip Guardian form as he swallowed the creature, "And thanks for the meal."
Reverting to human form, he continued his pace. ’Inala, huh? Even if the soul is the same, he’s not my Deity. So, I don’t have any issue with this.’
"But still," He frowned, "You better take on a softer voice the next time you make a request, Zinger Representative."
"Only my Deity can order me," He praised, "Because only my Deity’s words are absolute. Whatever he says will come true."
’Even my fight against the Celestial Boar went exactly as my Deity had ordained.’
Boom!
There was a loud boom afar as Root’s figure moved past. Casually sitting on a rock was a Gold Grade Pranic Beast, its head tracking Root’s movements. Slowly, it parted its jaws wide, "I found him,"
"The fake mask that sealed His Glorious Majesty and is now being paraded in that hideous form." The Gold Grade Pranic Beast waited a few minutes and then unleashed a Minor Treasure’s pillar of light, "I’ve found Root,"
"Lord Gatin."