Mist swirled around the celestial mountains, home to the most ancient of hunters. Yet today they didn't feast, they mated, and the entire priesthood was there to watch the hunter's dance. To watch the storms born from their passion usher in a new season.

A disembodied Dexter looked on with awe as he stood between a group of dark humanoids whose horns resonated with the storms like an antenna. Mist formed around their horns as well, scattering, only to reform back into a sweeping blade. Like the stone pillars, the wind had shaped their horns with extreme cutting intent.

"These must be the Sky Priests," Dexter thought.

As he followed their gaze, peering into the swirling mass above, a deviant gust of wind soared past, decapitating the priests without an ounce of resistance and ending the vision.

[ Wind Scythe (Bronze): The fallen sky ends all. Skill Link: +5 Strength. Proficiency - Basic: lvl 1. ]

Mist swirled around Dexter as he laid in the center of the arena, staring at his new ranked skill. Like Iron Shroud it was a rare skill in the Bronze tier, but its potential was stunted. As a result of him semi-failing the test, he had received a lesser version of the skill. But as the mist swirled around him, its deadly nature was on full display—mirroring the incomplete art of the Ozkaari Sky Priest.

To upgrade the skill and return it to its former glory, Dexter would have to complete the Bladed Vortex technique. A feat that caused him trepidation as he remembered the fate of the Ozkaari priests. Their hubris had cost them their lives, giving 'weather the storm' a whole new meaning. The aura emitted from the beasts consorting in the sky had shaken an entire ecosystem and would soon alter the terrain by birthing a new climate. Even with his new powers, it stretched the limits of what he thought possible.

But as he touched the tiny trail of mists that took him a week to obtain, he knew it was possible. After all, the Bladed Vortex was only the first art crafted by the Sky Priests, born out of a wild passion to dominate. He could only imagine what the second and third arts entailed, and what elements of the flying creatures were modeled to form them. But in either case, Dexter wasn't in a rush to learn. He had enough on his plate already.

For starters, he needed to finish leveling up the path token, and that would require him to go on a rampage with the new skill. The faster he achieved his quests, the more equipped he'd be to explore the wild and survive its hidden dangers. Dangers that held abilities beyond his wildest imaginations. And with each completion, there was bound to be a Title up for grabs.

Titles had bolstered a large part of his strength, and he didn't want that to stop any time soon. He was sure he had missed out on his chance to get a world's first by failing the Heaven's Fury trial. But there would be others in the future, and his new Strength skill would help to claim them.

Opening his status, Dexter focused on the new attribute skill slot and willed Wind Scythe to merge into the slot. The skill immediately transferred from his secondary skill slot to his attribute skill slot and increased in strength as if it had gained a level, growing into the size of a blade on a small knife.

"Well aren't you a cute little munchkin."

Eyeing the mist like a little puppy, Dexter sent his intent into the skill and the wind surged with frightening alacrity. There was an eagerness built into the skill, like it was yearning for approval. If it had a mouth, Dexter would have given it a ration bar as a treat right then and there.

The interesting part was that the skill followed him around and there wasn't any way to disperse it. Not that he minded, however. In its passive state it would linger like a hidden blade, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. He could also direct it up to a meter in its passive state, which doubled its effectiveness.

As Dexter waited for his energy to regenerate, he wondered how he should conceal Wind Scythe. It was a bit odd to see the skill float around him. In the vision he received, the Sky Priests hadn't concealed the skill at all. Their scythes sat on the crown of their heads where they boldly showed off their mastery of the skill, controlling it with the finest of details as it sculpted their horns. Unfortunately, that was one thing he couldn't replicate.

A lightbulb clicked in his head, when he remembered his dagger. He would actually have to remove the dagger which would defeat the purpose of a surprise attack, but if he left it anywhere else it would be easier to sense. Unsheathing the dagger, Dexter directed the scythe to lay flat on the blade, when the energy he had regenerated plummeted like a meteor falling from the sky.

"An antisocial blade with an extreme edge and propensity towards violence... I guess that's not surprising."

For the first time the dagger that had been impervious to damage, had its blade shredded in two. Reluctantly, Dexter ate an energy bar and began to scold the little vortex.

"It looks like someone has a Napoleon complex."

With his armor completely reinforced, and his energy almost fully restored, Dexter took out his compass and followed it back into the mountain. The twirling mist, now on time out, hovered before him, taking up the duty that his spear and dagger once occupied. But unlike back then, Dexter had nothing to fear. The inside of the hall was as bright as could be. And when he entered the darkness, he continued on as if nothing had occurred. However, he did reach an impasse that was quite challenging.

It was after the tunnels that he first thought lacked an air current. The flow was still there, but it had been dulled down into a miniscule stream; testing his acuity. The new tunnels were actually void of airflow, and he had to generate his own to continue forward. There were also blocked passages in which he had to break through using his new skill. The skill Wind Scythe was also challenged at times, and required a full reinforcement by Iron Shroud.

The simple walk in the park that he thought awaited him after completing the trial, was a dream. But Dexter had made painstaking progress through the tunnels, further honing his wind blade. It was his precision that had increased above all, staving away the dangers lurking in the dark.

Dexter came to a forked path when he heard sounds echoing in the distance. He immediately stopped, drawing his spear and dagger, which by now had returned to perfect condition. The Wind Scythe, which he had named Munchkin, was spun to his back, just in case. There was no harm in being prepared. As he listened, he determined that someone was talking, but he couldn't make out how many people there were. The chances that a group had made their way this high into the mountain was also odd, and Dexter found himself frowning in the darkness.

The forked path led in opposite directions, with the one where the sounds were coming from headed up, while the other headed down but in a different direction from where he came from. It was possible that he had discovered the true path into the mountain, after all he had scaled the outside after fleeing from the awakened human. Did the creature track him inside?

The whispers in the distance began to get drowned out by Dexter's heart, as his body reacted in fear. There was something about the dark that no human could shake, and even with his new power he wasn't foolish enough to think he could take that creature without his eyesight. There were too many chances for failure with such a handicap.

But after all the time spent developing himself to continue on, he wasn't going to back away from what lay ahead, based on paranoia. Anything related to the Sky Priests was worth the risk.

Choosing the right path, Dexter walked on eggshells, sending Munchkin to guard his front once again. Whatever attacked him would be met with a deathblow from the start. As he walked further the sounds grew more clear, yet at the same time they caused confusion. He was certain it was one person, but they were speaking gibberish. Mumbling incoherent babbles that occasionally announced a few disparate words in various languages. The odd phrases only increased as Dexter walked further up the tunnel and for the first time in what had to be hours, light was shown within the tunnels.

The flickering blue light was dim, but it relaxed Dexter's mind as it washed over him, easing his control over his energy. If the magical torches weren't fashioned from the stone walls, he would have stolen them. Briefly he wondered what other types of items would increase his ability to absorb ambient energy and raise his level. But as he entertained the thought, a wave of wild energy made him pause.

The primal aura had washed over him for only a second, followed by more mumbling and gasps from up ahead. Each time the force echoed towards Dexter, the tone of the voice grew louder and more aggressive. Soon they matched each other in intensity as Dexter approached the chamber at the end of the tunnel, and laid eyes upon the person disturbing the silence of the mountain.

She, and it was a she, regardless of her waxy gray skin and frilly blonde hair, sat in a concentric circle, surrounded by seven Ozkaari statues, more pristine than the dozens he had passed in the garden. Three of the statues stood on her sides while a larger statue stood before her in a form of an initiation ritual, and a series of hieroglyphs decorated the entire room, detailing the process. They concentrated around a large display of bones that lay embedded in the domed ceiling directly above her. But Dexter cared not for it, staring at a radiant blue and silver robe on the lead statue.

It was a spitting image of the robes he'd seen in the vision when he received his Wind Scythe skill, and it held its own energy source. Though Dexter's interest was enticed further as he stared at an ornate treasure box offered in the statue's hands. A serene pressure of wind aura radiated out of the box, strong enough to weather the wild pressure released from the female before him.

Unlike the feral human donned in a tattered police uniform that had chased him and George, the woman wore what appeared to be navy-blue scrubs. Her clothing was tattered as well, ripped to rags around her chest, where her undergarments had somehow stayed on, concealing her nudity. And just like the last human, her waxy gray skin was perfectly intact.

The juxtaposition was a strange sight. Under the blue light, Dexter questioned if it was even real, and not a horror conjured from his imagination. But he knew it was real, as the danger that radiated off her could be felt like waves eroding a beach. She was doing something with her aura, and it was consuming the energy around her.

Dexter stood conflicted at the entrance of the chamber. As far as he was concerned everything in there was his by right, even the ambient energy. The fact that he failed the trial was irrelevant. But the damned creature was like an impassable wall, a mountain in her own right. And by the aura she held, he knew he had a snowball's chance in hell at defeating her.

Gritting his teeth, Dexter took a long glance at the Sky Priests robe. It bore silver lining that flowed around the sleeves and chest, like jewelry made of wind aura. Leaving it and the treasure box behind was an option he simply couldn't imagine, the gamer in him wouldn't allow it.

I'm going to regret this...

Stuck inside the shadows outside the entrance, Dexter struggled with himself, and then placed one foot inside the chamber. His body tensed, but there was no reaction from the feral human. It was too distracted to notice him.

A weight left his shoulders a moment later as a grin stretched across his face. His time spent in agonizing pain wouldn't be for nothing. Sure he had obtained a skill, but he wouldn't have bothered to temper himself in the Heaven's Fury trial if his compass didn't frantically point him in this direction. The Sky Priest's inheritance had a special artifact, and he couldn't wait to snatch it.

But as his second foot came down, and he inched ever closer, a problem blossomed in his mind. He could feel the wind aura hanging over the treasure box only a few meters away, and realized its strength wasn't nearly as strong as it should be to disrupt the compass.

Uh oh.

Dexter's eyes went wide as he looked from the inheritance to the meditating creature in the center of the room. Was the feral human the reason his compass had gone haywire? It was stored in his satchel along with his ration bars when he had his first encounter with the beings, so there was no way for him to know. Though even if he were wrong, following it had led him to the jaws of a monster.

Betrayed by the accursed item, Dexter took another step towards the inheritance, when the creature jerked, moving in a full-body spasm.

Mommy! His balls clenched as he silently screamed.

It was all Dexter could do not to piss himself, but the convulsion had ended mere seconds after it started, and Dexter felt a fluctuation in the creature's aura. As he looked on, he realized that the suffocating energy he thought was hers, wasn't. She was simply consuming it, and the convulsions were like drool running down a dog's mouth.

The real source of the wild energy hovered in the air, flowing out of the bestial bones sealed in the ceiling.