Artemis followed Arthur and Rox into the suffocating embrace of Griff Forest. The dense canopy swallowed the sky whole, leaving them in a twilight world thick with the scent of decay and unseen life. Despite the oppressive atmosphere, a newfound confidence thrummed beneath Artemis's skin. The brutal crucible of the past two weeks had forged him. His diamond lattice hummed with readiness, his senses sharper, his control – though imperfect – leagues beyond the clumsy boy who'd staggered under sandstone blocks. He felt prepared, truly prepared, for the one-week trial within the forest's belly.
"Arthur," Rox's low voice cut through the dripping silence, "front and center. We'll be depending on you to be our eyes and ears out here. Use those senses." Rox hung back slightly, a watchful shadow.
"Yes, boss," Arthur replied, a flicker of pride mixing with concentration. He raised his hands, clicking his bronze-reinforced knuckles together. A low, resonant thrum pulsed outwards, invisible waves rippling through the damp earth and the massive tree trunks. He closed his eyes, focusing. "Clear path ahead... feels stable... wait..." His brow furrowed. "Movement. High up. Scattered. Light footfalls... monkeys, I think. Brazenmarked."
They moved cautiously, senses straining. Hours bled together in the green gloom. No animal crossed their path directly, but the feeling of being watched intensified until it was a physical pressure. Artemis felt unseen eyes tracking their every step, a collective predatory intelligence devouring their presence from the shadows. The forest itself felt like a vast, hungry maw.
Then Arthur froze, his knuckles clicking rapidly in a new, urgent rhythm. "Eight! Eight signatures! Above! Ahead!" He pointed upwards, towards a dense tangle of branches thirty paces ahead.
Almost instantly, the forest erupted. Screeches ripped through the air as eight Brazenmarked monkeys, fur matted and eyes blazing with territorial fury, launched themselves from the high canopy. They moved with terrifying speed and coordination, bronze fangs flashing like chisels in the dappled light. They didn't charge headlong; they used the trees, swinging, dropping, rebounding off trunks to come at the trio from multiple angles at once.
"Form up! Back-to-back!" Rox barked, his voice sharp but calm, remaining rooted, observing.
Artemis reacted instantly, weeks of Rox's drills kicking in. He pivoted, putting his back to Artemis's, diamond knuckles shimmering into existence over his fists. His confidence surged. This is it. Show them. A monkey dropped straight down towards him, claws outstretched, bronze fangs bared. Artemis saw the opening, the descent. He channeled his diamond strength, driving a powerful, controlled uppercut towards its chest, aiming to shatter bone.
But he forgot the forest's three-dimensional battlefield. As his fist shot upwards, another monkey, swinging laterally on a vine he hadn't registered, slammed feet-first into his side. The impact was jarring, knocking his breath out and throwing his perfect strike wildly off course. His diamond knuckles grazed the first monkey's arm instead of its chest, drawing a shriek of pain but not stopping it. The first monkey landed nimbly, raking bronze claws across Artemis's thigh before leaping away. A hot line of pain seared his leg. Mistake! Panic flickered, disrupting his focus.
Beside him, Arthur was a whirlwind of desperate bronze. He conjured a small buckler on his left arm, blocking a rake of claws from one side, while simultaneously forming a short bronze spike on his right hand, jabbing wildly at another monkey darting in low. He managed to nick its flank, but the sheer speed and number overwhelmed his senses. "Too many!" he gasped, spinning to deflect a bite aimed at his neck. A third monkey landed on his back, bronze fangs snapping near his ear before he bucked wildly, dislodging it.
Artemis saw Arthur's peril. Ignoring the stinging wound on his leg, he focused. Control. Not just power. He didn't try for a knockout blow. Instead, he targeted the monkey clinging near Arthur's head. He snapped a diamond-edged fist out with Silverstone-like speed – a flicker of his true potential – not to crush, but to intercept CRACK. The blow connected solidly with the monkey's shoulder. Bone snapped audibly. The creature screeched, tumbling off Arthur and crashing into the undergrowth, whimpering.
The loss of one shifted the pack's momentum. Their attacks became more cautious, darting in and out faster. Artemis, learning fast, stopped chasing knockout blows. He focused on defense and precise, intercepting strikes, using his diamond knuckles to block snapping fangs and deflect raking claws aimed at himself or Arthur. He forced one back with a sharp jab to its snout, making it recoil. Arthur, steadied by Artemis covering his flank, managed to solidify his buckler just in time to absorb a powerful leap from another monkey, the bronze-on-bronze impact ringing out.
For a few heartbeats, they held, a battered but cohesive unit. The monkeys chattered angrily from the surrounding branches, bronze fangs glinting, assessing the changed dynamic. The initial, overwhelming assault had been blunted.
Rox, who hadn't moved a muscle to intervene, finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tense standoff. "Better. Eventually. Remember the vertical space, Adamanthe. And Brontide," he added, his gaze sweeping over Arthur's heaving chest and Artemis's bleeding leg, "situational awareness. Always. They're regrouping. Prepare." His words were a cold assessment, not praise, but they marked the end of the first brutal lesson within the forge. The forest had tasted their blood, and the week had just begun.
***
The monkeys' angry chitters escalated into a furious chorus, echoing through the dripping canopy. They didn't flee. They reassessed. Bronze-fanged jaws snapped, eyes burning with feral intelligence. They scattered, melting back into the higher branches like smoke, vanishing from direct sight.
"Don't relax!" Arthur hissed, knuckles clicking frantically. "They're still there! Moving fast! Above, left... right!" The vibrations painted a chaotic picture of swift, circling movement high above.
Artemis clenched his diamond-knuckled fists, the cold lattice humming beneath his skin. The sting on his thigh was a sharp reminder of his mistake. He forced his breathing steady, widening his stance, trying to sense the air displacement Rox had drilled into him, to feel the attack coming.
It wasn't from above. A guttural snarl came from the dense ferns directly in front of Arthur. A larger Brazenmarked monkey, its fur scarred, burst from the greenery in a low, powerful leap, aiming straight for Arthur's midsection. It was a feint orchestrated perfectly.
"Arthur, down!" Artemis yelled, instincts overriding thought. He shoved Arthur hard to the side. The scarred monkey sailed past, claws raking empty air. But the shove left Artemis exposed, off-balance.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Three smaller monkeys dropped like stones from directly overhead, bronze claws extended, aiming to pin him. Panic flared. He reacted purely defensively, throwing his arms up in a cross-block, diamond knuckles flashing. CLANG! SCRAAAPE! Claws scraped violently against the diamond ridges. The impact drove him to one knee, the weight of three bodies crushing down. One monkey latched onto his forearm, bronze fangs snapping perilously close to his wrist. Another clawed at his shoulder, seeking purchase. The third scrabbled at his back.
"Idiot! Forgot the high guard!" Rox's voice, cold and sharp, cut through his mind even as the old man remained motionless, a silent statue against a mossy trunk.
Beside him, Arthur rolled, coming up swinging. "Get off him!" A bronze spike formed on his fist, and he lunged, stabbing not at the monkeys, but at the thick vine one was using for leverage near Artemis's head. SNAP! The vine parted. The monkey clinging to it shrieked, tumbling away.
The loss of its anchor destabilized the others. Artemis roared, channeling raw diamond-tier strength through his core. He didn't punch; he shoved upwards violently. The two monkeys clinging to his front were hurled backwards like furry projectiles, crashing into a bush with yelps.
The scarred leader screeched in rage. It launched itself not at Artemis recovering his feet, but at Arthur, who was momentarily focused on his successful vine strike. Arthur spun, raising his bronze-armored forearm. CRUNCH! The leader hit with terrifying force, its momentum driving Arthur backwards. Arthur's boots skidded on wet leaves. He grunted, straining to hold the snapping bronze fangs inches from his face, the scarred monkey's weight and fury overwhelming his Brontide strength. His buckler flickered under the strain.
Artemis saw it. The opening. The leader was fully committed, exposed. This time, he didn't charge wildly. He moved. Not with blinding, uncontrolled speed, but with focused intent. Two strides, low and fast. He didn't aim for a killing blow. He targeted the base of the spine, just above the powerful hindquarters – a control point Rox had mentioned for large predators. His diamond-encased fist drove forward like a piston.
THUD!
The impact wasn't the shattering crack he'd used on the root, but a deep, resonant thump. The scarred monkey's furious snarl choked off into a pained gasp. Its body went rigid, then limp. It slid off Arthur's buckler and thudded to the forest floor, stunned and twitching, unable to coordinate its limbs.
The remaining monkeys in the trees froze. The furious chattering died instantly, replaced by a sudden, watchful silence. They stared at their fallen leader, then at Artemis standing over it, diamond knuckles glinting faintly in the gloom, then at the still-unmoving Rox. The message was clear.
A single, high-pitched chitter sounded – a command. Like ghosts, the Brazenmarked monkeys melted back into the high canopy, vanishing as swiftly as they had appeared. The oppressive silence of the forest rushed back in, broken only by Arthur's ragged gasps and the drip of moisture from the leaves.
Artemis let the diamond knuckles fade, his hands trembling slightly, not from exertion, but from the sudden drop in adrenaline. He looked down at the stunned leader monkey, then at the shallow, bleeding gash on his thigh, a stark reminder of his first, costly error. He met Arthur's wide-eyed gaze. His friend gave a shaky nod, dispelling his own bronze reinforcements.
Rox finally pushed off the tree trunk. He walked over to the stunned monkey, nudged it with his boot. It whimpered but couldn't move. He looked at Artemis's leg, then at Arthur's heaving chest.
"Monkey one," he stated flatly, pointing at Artemis's wound. "Cost you blood for forgetting the canopy." He pointed at the stunned leader. "Monkey leader. Cost them the fight because you remembered control." His gaze swept over them both. "Eight against two. You held. Barely. Next time, it won't be monkeys testing the weak link." He turned and started walking deeper into the gloom. "Keep moving. That blood scent is an invitation."
Artemis took a deep breath, the cold hum of his diamond core settling back into a watchful readiness. The first test was passed, but Rox was right. The forest's true teeth were still hidden in the shadows ahead. The forge was just heating up.
***
Three days of relentless skirmishes against Brazenmarked boars and Fleshborn predator swarms had honed Artemis and Arthur into a seamless unit. Movements were instinctive, senses extended, fear replaced by focused readiness. So when they rounded a moss-crusted boulder and found the Silverstone jaguar, its molten coin eyes locking onto them, they didn't freeze. The massive cat stood draped over a thick branch twenty feet up, a Brontide crocodile carcass – easily three times its weight – dangling limply from its jaws, blood dripping onto the ferns below. Its presence was a physical weight, a hum of contained power that vibrated the very air, unlike anything they'd faced before. Yet, Artemis felt only a cold thrum of anticipation in his diamond core. Arthur shifted into a balanced stance beside him, bronze knuckles already shimmering faintly.
"This will be a tough one, Artemis," Arthur murmured, never breaking eye contact with the predator.
Before Artemis could reply, Rox's head snapped to the left. Arthur's knuckles clicked frantically a split second later. "Gorillas! Silverstone! Multiple signatures, closing fast from the west!"
A chorus of deep, resonant thump-thump-thumps echoed through the trees, the sound like war drums. Massive, shadowed forms moved in the dense undergrowth, their sheer size and the glint of silver-flecked fur visible even at a distance.
"Distraction," Rox growled, his silverstone gaze flicking between the jaguar and the approaching gorillas. "Handle the cat. Don't die." He melted backwards into the foliage, not fleeing, but positioning to intercept the new, potentially greater threat. They were on their own.
The jaguar, sensing the shift, dropped the crocodile carcass with a heavy thud. It flowed down the tree trunk like liquid shadow, landing silently on the forest floor. Its molten eyes never left them. It didn't roar; it didn't need to. The low, rumbling growl that vibrated in its chest was promise enough.
It moved. Not with the chaotic fury of the monkeys, but with lethal, terrifying precision. A silver-grey blur shot towards Arthur, low and fast. Arthur didn't flinch. His hands slammed together, then swept apart. A shimmering bronze shield, thick and interlocked like scaled armor, flared into existence just as the jaguar's claws, tipped with silverstone talons, raked across it. SCREEEEEECH! The sound was deafening, sparks flying where silver scored bronze. The shield held, but Arthur skidded back a foot, grunting under the impact.
Artemis was already moving. Not charging wildly, but cutting an angle, forcing the jaguar to split its focus. As the jaguar recoiled from Arthur's shield, Artemis snapped a diamond-edged kick towards its exposed flank. The jaguar twisted with impossible fluidity, the kick whistling past fur. Its tail, thick as a club and reinforced, lashed out at Artemis's legs. Artemis jumped, diamond-enhanced muscles propelling him higher than before, the tail whipping harmlessly beneath his boots. He landed lightly, diamond knuckles forming seamlessly.
The jaguar lunged for Arthur again, a feint. Mid-leap, it twisted, using Arthur's shield as a springboard, launching itself directly at the momentarily airborne Artemis. Arthur shouted a warning, but Artemis was already reacting. He'd anticipated the vertical threat this time. Instead of blocking, he met the jaguar in the air. He tucked his shoulder, manifesting a diamond-hard pad, and slammed it into the jaguar's descending chest. THOOM! It wasn't a knockout blow, but a stunning impact, disrupting the cat's trajectory. The jaguar landed awkwardly, momentarily off-balance.
Arthur seized the opening. He dissolved his shield and lunged, not with a weapon, but with open, bronze-reinforced hands. He grabbed the jaguar's thick, muscular tail, pouring Brontide strength into anchoring it. "Now, Artemis!"
The jaguar snarled, whipping its head around, silverstone fangs bared to rip into Arthur. But Artemis was there. He didn't aim for the head or spine. He drove a single, focused diamond punch, channeling all his control, into the powerful hinge of the jaguar's back leg. The impact wasn't explosive; it was a deep, bone-jarring crack. The jaguar shrieked, a sound of pure fury and pain. Its leg buckled.
Arthur released the tail and rolled clear as the cat stumbled. It tried to pivot, to face Artemis, but the injured leg collapsed. It snarled, molten eyes blazing with hate, but the lethal coordination was gone. It was grounded, vulnerable.
Artemis stood poised, diamond knuckles gleaming, ready to finish it. Arthur scrambled to his feet, breathing hard but unharmed, bronze flickering back to readiness. From the direction Rox had gone, the sounds of crashing foliage and enraged gorilla bellows mixed with sharp, percussive impacts – the distinct sound of Silverstone meeting Silverstone.
The jaguar hissed, dragging itself backwards, its injured leg useless. It knew the fight was lost. With one last venomous glare, it turned and vanished into the undergrowth with surprising speed, leaving only the scent of blood and fury.
Arthur wiped sweat from his brow. "The stories we will tell, a pity they won't believe." They both laughed
Artemis let the diamond fade from his knuckles, watching the spot where the jaguar disappeared. Rox emerged moments later from the foliage, his tunic slightly torn, breathing steadily. He glanced at the retreating jaguar, then at them, taking in their readiness, their lack of major wounds.
"Hmph. Took you long enough," he grunted, but there was no heat in it. He jerked his head deeper into the forest. "The Gorillas are running away, let's get moving." The unspoken verdict hung in the air: they'd passed.
The oppressive weight of Griff Forest felt heavier at night. Seven days had bled into seven nights since their first, stumbling encounter with the Brazenmarked monkeys. Now, on the seventh evening, the air hung thick with the coppery scent of old blood and damp earth. Artemis wiped gore from a diamond-edged finger with a fistful of moss, dropping another set of bronze fangs into the worn leather sack slung over his shoulder. Nearby, Arthur carefully pried silverstone claws from the paw of a large, feline predator they'd felled that afternoon, his own bronze knuckles clicking faintly with the effort.
They were retracing their steps through a section of forest they'd cleared days prior, a grim harvest under Rox's watchful, impassive eye. The old Silverstone leaned against the massive trunk of an ancient ironbark, its bark scarred from past battles. His gaze swept the shadowed clearing, a map of their recent struggles painted in trampled ferns and dark stains on the leaf litter.
"Don't forget," Rox's voice cut through the rhythmic drip-drip of moisture from the canopy high above, sharp and practical, "these animal parts are valuable. Teeth, claws, specific glands... fetch good cowry at certain traders. You better collect them. Waste nothing the forest offers, even its dead."
Artemis grimaced, hefting the increasingly heavy sack. The brutality of taking trophies still sat uneasily with him, but Rox's logic was undeniable. Survival here demanded pragmatism, even in victory.
They finished their grim task near a small, relatively clear patch of ground. Exhaustion pulled at their bones as they sank down onto thick moss, pulling out wax-paper packets of dried meat and hard journey bread. The silence, punctuated only by the forest's night sounds – distant insect chirrs, the rustle of unseen creatures, the ever-present drip-drip – felt heavy, contemplative. Arthur chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then broke the quiet, his voice low.
"Rox... been meaning to ask. Why are there so many more Brontide and Silverstone animals than Fleshborn? Back near Ocela, Fleshborn beasts were common. Here... it feels like everything has teeth."
Rox swallowed a mouthful of tough bread, his silverstone eyes reflecting the weak moonlight filtering through the leaves. "Simple ecology," he stated, his voice devoid of sentiment. "Most Fleshborn animals are killed. Immediately. Often right after birth." He gestured vaguely around the dark clearing. "This place? It's a forge. Only the strong, the quick, the touched survive infancy here. A Fleshborn fawn is easy prey. A Fleshborn predator struggles to bring down anything tougher than insects. The forest culls the weak relentlessly. What you see thriving are the survivors. The ones born with bronze or silver in their jaws." He took another bite. "Nature's harsh meritocracy."
Arthur nodded slowly, absorbing the grim reality. Artemis felt the cold truth of it resonate with his own hidden power, the constant threat of discovery. The forest didn't tolerate weakness in any form.
The word "meritocracy" still hung in the humid air when the drip-drip sound changed.
It wasn't water anymore.
DRIP... DRIP...
A thicker, darker liquid splattered onto the broad leaf beside Rox's boot from his severed left arn. He stiffened, a fraction of a second before Arthur's knuckles clicked a frantic, silent warning.
It moved faster than thought. A blur of matted grey fur streaked with dried blood erupted from the ferns directly behind Rox. No growl, no snarl – just lethal silence. Red eyes, like burning coals, glowed with feral intelligence. And in its gaping maw, bared in a soundless snarl, But it wasn't the eyes that made them flinch.
It was the teeth.
In that gaping, silent maw, gleamed something that should not exist:
Gold.
Aurumtouched fangs—tiered beyond nature, beyond the law of the wild an unmistakable anomaly.