Keeper

15 feet tall, extremely muscular, and proficient in wielding weapons, they have the upperbody of a human, the lower body of a lion. Their hair looks to be in a constant state of movement, moving in the absence of wind.

A species that dwells within the TreePaths. Observations shows that there is a maximum of one Keeper per TreePath. This suggests that there are at least 70 keepers. Conversations with them prove to be unsuccessfull, but only with humans. They are willing to converse with the dwarves, leprechauns, and the Faeries.

Show no sign of wanting to initiate combat, never wandering too far from a small hole they each guard.

Excerpt from the Myriad Races - Description, Summary, and Aggression. Chapter 45: Keeper

"Sign here, here, and here," the man said as he pointed at the piece of paper in front of Dion.

Even discipleships have contracts in this world, huh?

Dion signed his name on the three lines without hesitation before turning to the man, "So do I call you master now? On that note, I never caught your name."

"You may call me master if you want, or you can call me Cole. Come to this address tomorrow at 9:00 PM. Oh, almost forgot! Bring 1000 credits too. Its for your fees."

"O-one t-t-thousand?" His face paled. If he paid that much, he wouldn't even have a single credit left.

"Wait, come back!" He shouted as he ran after Cole, "I can't pay that much!"

Dion's foot hit the side of a table, tripping him. He quickly got up and ran out of the room. Sadly, Cole was nowhere to be seen.

He smashed his hand against the wall before running back to the conference room in search of the chef. When he tried to open the door, however, it was barred shut.

"Assholes, the both of them!" Dion cursed before lamenting his situation.

Since he lived in the orphanage, he didn't need to worry about living expenses. His school didn't take fees right now either(only after graduation). He actually needed the credits for his university fees. He didn't think that he would get another lucky break and get accepted even with terrible grades. He had to take out-of-school courses to improve his cumulative GPA, using sheer numbers to make up for the low grades.

"Ugh...I'll talk to Cole the next time I see him. I can't even back out since I signed the contract. Hmm, I should read up on the law here. Maybe I can get a lucky break since I'm only 16."

"Ho ho... I didn't expect the 'Greatest Hero Instructor' to come to this spar between the young martial artists!" A burly, mustached, middle-aged man roared in laughter as he stared at the cold-faced Cole in front of him.

"Shut your trap, asshole," Cole glanced at him before replying.

"So? Who's the unlucky bastard that your conniving eyes found this time, eh?"

Before Cole could reply, a loud bell chime rang throughout the courtyard they were standing in. An old man dressed in a strange blue robe walked out of the crowd before addressing them, "Greetings, I will keep this short. We are here to showcase the martial prowess of your students via a tournament. The winner will get a top-class nutrient solution. The runner-up will get a middle-class solution, and third class will get a low-class solution. After the tournament, an auction held by the New World Martial Auctionhouse will take place. You may only participate if your student has participated in the tournament. We will wait for the Overseers to get here before starting. In the meantime, gather with you students."

Cole had already listened to this exact speech multiple time, so he didn't bother paying attention. He looked around before catching sight of a tall, slightly muscular teen that was looking around in awe. Cole quickly made his way over to Dion before grabbing his hand and bringing him to the side.

"Did you get the cash?" Cole looked around suspiciously before asking him.

"I brought it, but can you give me some slack? This is all the money I have," Dion pleaded.

"It's fine. You are the student of a hero. Why are you worrying about petty and materialistic items?" Cole scolded before unceremoniously grabbing the money and shoving it down his pockets.

The real question is: why are you? Of course, Dion didn't actually say that, lest he incurred Cole's wrath.

A few minutes later, a group of people wearing loose black cloaks walked into the courtyard, their long sleeves fluttering against the wind. After conversing with the old man in the blue robe, they sat down on some chairs at the edge of the courtyard. One of them, whose face Dion couldn't quite see, looked at each master-student pair, his gaze lingering slightly longer on Dion with what seemed to be...pity?

Dion suddenly felt something very wrong with this tournament, but exactly what the problem was escaped him.

The old man raised his hand, silencing any conversations going on, before speaking in a loud and sharp tone, "The tournament will now begin."

Immediately, Dion's eyes widened as he turned to glare at Cole, "Wait! I'm not participating in the tournament, am I?"

"This is your test. If you do well, I will teach you properly. If you don't...well, let's hope that doesn't happen,"

"You realize I've only practiced for a week or so, right?"

Cole looked down at Dion in derision and was about to say something when the old man shouted out, "Disciple of Blackthorne vs. Disciple of Bloodied Sword"

Cole snorted before pushing him forward.

"That's your que."

As he walked towards the center in trepidation, he took a look at his opponent: an extremely muscular 18-year old that was half-naked. In fact, he looked like a whiter version of a certain green hero with temper tantrums. Every step he took, the dust would rise up and the ground would shake.

Dion gulped before looking back at Cole, who gestured for him to continue. He gritted his teeth before walking forward.

It's fine. This is probably just a simple sparring match. At most, I'll be injured for a couple of months. It isn't like I'll die or anything... right? OH GOD, DID I JUST JINX MYSELF? IM SO SCREWED!

While a myriad of thoughts were moving through Dion's brain, the old man raised his hand and pointed towards Dion's opponent, "Disciple of Blackthorne against," he pointed towards Dion, "Disciple of Bloodied Sword"

When Dion heard his title, the corner of his mouth started to twitch before he turned towards Cole, who averted his gaze in embarrassment.

HAHA! Cole is called the 'Bloodied Sword'? What a stupid nickname! It's like a child came up with it!'

Before he could get too engrossed within his thoughts, however, the old man shouted, "BEGIN!"

Immediately, Dion's skin was covered in goosebumps while his hair rose upwards. On pure instinct, Dion ducked, a loud whistle sounded out above him. He quickly rolled to the side, barely dodging an axe kick that was aiming for his head.

"So...this wasn't just a simple sparring match."