The first priority in hunting is to find suitable targets.
But combat is different; Rotao's people regard the act of challenging powerful prey as an honor. The scars left from brutal battles seem like medals to them.
Every lion on the grassland has at least experienced such a battle, marking the moment they transform from a cub into a man's lionhood.
Reed was hiding in the shadow of a rock, watching the battle below—he squinted his eyes, and after experiencing such battles many times, he lost the passion he once had, leaving only warmth and calm in his silver-gray gaze.
He grew up first, then learned how to distinguish between truth and lies, gradually comprehending many things after that.
He slowly stood up, the metal rings engraved with glorious family names chiming due to the shaking on his mane. Reed extended his claw behind him and firmly gripped the hilt of the Holy Sword, inch by inch pulling it out.
