The group followed the crowd as it now moved as one toward the underground. A broad stream of people and Silvaran bears began to advance, and for about fifteen minutes they marched through the city's outer ring. The farther they went, the fewer market stalls remained, and the quieter their surroundings became. Before long, the lively bustle of Bearway lay behind them.
At last, they reached the edge of the city.
There, half-hidden between overgrown roots and crooked tree trunks, lay the entrance to the cave.
It looked old.
Not well-kept old, but forgotten old.
The rock was dark and veined with deep cracks, from which thin roots had forced their way outward. Moss covered the upper edges of the entrance, and a few hanging vines swayed lazily in the wind, as if trying to conceal the way inside. The arch of the cave was unevenly shaped, as though the stone itself had once given up resisting nature.
Only a few buildings stood nearby, and these looked plainer than the rest of the houses in the outer ring. No market stalls, no merchants, no busy murmur of voices. Instead, there was a noticeable distance in the air.
The ground before the entrance was worn down by footsteps, though not with the signs of regular use. The tracks were scattered and uneven, as if the cave was only entered when it was truly necessary.
The first spectators had already gone inside, and when Darek stepped through the entrance, an unexpectedly vast space opened before him.
The underground arena was enormous.
An estimated eight hundred to twelve hundred people and Silvaran bears had already gathered there. Their voices blended into a deep, vibrating murmur that bounced off the stone walls and filled the entire cavern.
The arena itself lay slightly sunken into the middle of the cave. Around it, a stone grandstand curved in a wide semicircle along the natural rock wall. The rows of seats had been roughly carved from the stone itself, but they were stable and massive, as though they had been part of this cavern for generations. There were still a few open spots, but more spectators kept arriving, gradually filling the remaining gaps.
Torches had been fixed along the walls and between the stands, bathing the entire cavern in flickering, warm light. Shadows moved restlessly across the rock, making the arena seem almost alive. Smoke from the torches drifted slowly upward and gathered beneath the vaulted ceiling, where it hung in dark streaks.
The floor of the fighting ground was made of hard-packed earth, lightly threaded with red dust that shimmered almost metallically in the firelight.
"Wow, now this is a place worth living in," Pow Pow said in amazement, letting his gaze wander across the vast cavern.
"What do you think the trial will actually be?" Iris asked, turning slightly in the air as she studied Darek.
Darek merely shrugged cluelessly and briefly opened his hands. "No idea. Guess we'll just have to wait and see."
More and more spectators found their seats, voices overlapping as anticipation filled the air. The murmur swelled, then ebbed again, while the last groups pushed through the rows.
Darek and his companions started forward, heading straight toward the arena floor. With each step, the feeling grew stronger that they were standing at the center of something bigger than a mere test.
The spectators were still talking, speculating, laughing nervously, or arguing heatedly about what was about to happen.
And yet beneath it all lay a tense expectation, as if everyone in the cavern knew this trial was more than just a formality.
"The last time this arena was used was ages ago."
"I've never been here before. They say the last king of Silvara treated this place like his second living room. Supposedly, he fought and slaughtered here on a regular basis."
"Ever since the Oracle began ruling the city, things like that have barely been tolerated anymore."
"What a blessing that we have it."
The voices of the spectators blended into a layered murmur. Some spoke with reverence, others with near relief. The history of this place hung tangibly in the air, as though the rocks themselves still remembered the screams of earlier days and the thunder of clashing blades.
The torches cast flickering shadows across the arena, and for a moment, the red dust on the ground looked darker, as if it were meant to remind them of times long past.
After quite some time, the entrance to the arena opened once more.
The third leader stepped in.
The atmosphere changed instantly. The murmur quieted, heads turned, conversations died away. With calm, steady steps, he walked into the center of the ring and stopped there. In the flickering light, his grown armor looked heavy and almost archaic.
He briefly clasped his hands behind his back, let his gaze wander over the stands, and cleared his throat.
"Thank you for your patience. I can't remember the last time I was here, let alone the last time I presided over a Trial of Courage," he said, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully.
A few scattered chuckles ran through the rows, but the tension remained.
"As you know, it is one of the greatest honors to be recognized as an adult Silvare," the third leader began in a firm voice. "It is a title not granted lightly, and it carries just as much meaning for one of us as it does, in this case, for a guest."
He let his gaze drift across the stands, as though making sure every single person was following him.
"Our city is home to around two thousand four hundred inhabitants. Of those, roughly two thousand one hundred and fifty are Silvaran citizens. One hundred and ninety bear the title of adult Silvare. And only sixty are guests."
A quiet murmur passed through the rows as the numbers sank in.
"From that alone, you can tell what weight this title carries."
He paused briefly.
"The majority of adult Silvares belong to the Order of Subjugators or hold leadership positions in other orders and institutes. Some serve the Oracle directly. All of them have not only trained themselves, but also led their Silvaran bear to full symbiosis in a short time, allowing it to cross into adulthood as well."
His voice turned more serious.
"And that is exactly what this trial is about, my dear spectators, for all those who may have forgotten."
The murmuring stopped.
"Only one who can face an adult Silvaran bear without breaking can be considered worthy in turn. This is not about dominance. It is not about brute strength."
His gaze settled firmly on the arena floor.
"It is about standing as an equal."
A moment of silence.
"And it is about courage."
The third leader of the Hunter Order turned his gaze to the rear and nodded slowly.
A massive figure detached itself from the shadows of the cavern.
At first, there was only movement. Then a dark outline. And finally, he stepped fully into the torchlight.
The Silvaran bear was enormous.
Standing upright, he had to be around five meters tall, perhaps even a little more, and even on all fours he looked like a living wall of flesh and fur. His weight could only be guessed at, yet every step he took made the arena floor tremble with a dull shudder, as if the rock itself wanted to give way beneath him.
His fur was not soft or playful, but dense and heavy, threaded with dark, nearly black streaks that shimmered metallically in the flickering torchlight. Old scars ran across his shoulders and flanks, pale against the dark fur, proof of past battles he had not merely survived, but dominated.
His shoulders moved slowly and under complete control beneath that immense mass of muscle. Every movement was calm, almost relaxed, as though he knew that nothing in this arena could truly threaten him.
And yet even that imposing appearance was overshadowed by something else.
On his back sat his bud.
It was larger than any other Darek had seen on the way here. More mature. Heavier. Its surface no longer looked delicate or organically soft, but firm and structured, as though it had developed armor of its own. Dark veins spread across it, pulsing sluggishly and giving off a faint, deep glow. It was not a bright radiance, but a muted smolder, more like burning coal than fresh life.
The bear stepped into the center of the arena and stopped there, head slightly lowered, while his gaze slowly wandered across the rows. His eyes were calm, yet there was something unshakable in them.
The third leader raised his voice again.
"The trial will be carried out by a fully grown Silvaran bear of the Order of Subjugators. He is forty-one years old and reached symbiosis at the age of thirty-nine."
A respectful murmur spread through the crowd.
Darek felt even his arrogance reassess, if only for a fleeting moment, what was standing before him here.
"What? An adult Silvaran bear?!"
The reaction of the audience was immediate. Astonishment mixed with reverent cheering, and even those who had been sitting calmly a moment ago straightened up. Many of them had never seen a Trial of Courage with their own eyes. Most only knew the stories. Stories of talents who risked everything, and of those who never again looked at the world the same way afterward.
A trial like this was not for the curious.
It was not for the reckless.
Only exceptional Silvaran talents even dared to set their sights on it.
And adult Silvaran bears were not something one saw every day anyway. They normally remained in the middle ring or marched out alongside squads of the Order of Subjugators whenever something posed a serious threat to the city. Their mere appearance was an event.
And here, one stood in his full size.
The murmuring grew louder, then quieter again as the meaning of the moment truly settled in. Some spectators looked thrilled, others nervous. A few were now looking at Darek in a completely different way.
This was no longer a game.
"Compared to that thing, even Ursula wrapped in vines looks like a cuddly teddy bear," Pow Pow said with unexpected seriousness.
Darek swallowed.
An adult Silvaran bear. Full symbiosis.
Even in her childish age, Ursula had already been a walking killing machine. And this was no young talent. This was completion.
Darek stepped forward, positioned himself in front of the massive bear, then turned toward the third leader with a slightly bewildered look.
"I'm supposed to fight that?"
The third leader burst into loud laughter.
"Fight an adult Silvaran bear? Don't worry, we don't send people to their deaths just like that. Fight him? Are you out of your mind? If that were the trial, we'd have produced only a handful of adult Silvares."
So only a handful would have passed, Darek thought in disbelief.
Even so, he let out a relieved breath. "Good. For a second there, I thought I'd actually have to fight."
The third leader raised an eyebrow slightly.
"No. The trial is structured differently. You must withstand three of his blows and survive."
Silence.
Darek smacked a hand against his forehead.
"Shit," he muttered. "I was really born to suffer."
He looked back at the bear, whose massive paw alone was larger than his entire torso.
Alright then, he thought. With my pillow, I should be able to get through this trial just fine. But I really could've lived without that joke.
The third leader raised his voice slightly and continued.
"We Silvares are robust by nature. Our bodies are large, heavy, and resilient from birth. For a guest, pursuing this title is therefore even more dangerous."
His gaze rested firmly on Darek.
"And dodging is not allowed, unlike in the qualification earlier. You stay where you are. You take the blow."
A faint, barely noticeable smile crossed his face.
"However, I myself witnessed your… unusual ability. I'm curious."
The crowd fell silent again.
Darek inhaled slowly.
My abilities will probably be enough, he thought. But this is definitely going to hurt.
He looked at the bear's gigantic paws, which were resting calmly in the dust. Each one of them was large enough to completely cover him.
Alright. No use overthinking it now.
Darek raised his head and let his gaze sink directly into the silvaran bear's eyes.
That stare was not empty or driven by instinct. It was calm, alert, and full of experience.
Slowly, the massive body straightened. The grown muscles beneath the dense fur shifted heavily, as though an entire rock formation had begun to move. With each breath, his broad chest rose and fell while his paws pressed deep into the reddish arena floor.
Darek remained where he stood, chin slightly lifted, shoulders relaxed.
"Then let's get started."
His voice was calm, almost casual.
The sounds of the crowd sank into a muted background hum as all attention centered on the middle of the arena.
And the bear took the first step toward Darek.