Guntur blinked at the glowing blue text hovering in midair. “Compromised? Is that a new way to say ‘good job’?” He grinned wider, tucking the parchment into his sarong. Grandfather, bless his quiet wisdom, always knew how to make him feel special. This ‘System’ thing must be a secret technique to give him the edge. He clenched his fist, feeling a strange thrum within. “Right then, Puncak Langit, here I come!” Months later, Guntur stood at the base of the Sky Stair, the first true trial of the Puncak Langit Academy entrance exam. Before him, colossal floating islands, verdant and majestic, soared into the cerulean sky, tethered to the mainland by an ancient, glowing bridge and a series of impossibly narrow, winding rock paths carved into sheer cliff faces. Jagged, moss-covered peaks clawed at the clouds, daring aspirants to reach their summit. Over a hundred hopefuls milled about, their faces etched with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The air hummed with nervous energy. Guntur felt boundless enthusiasm. This was it! His chance to prove himself, to finally stand among the best. He flexed his fingers, a smile plastered on his face. “Just a little climb,” he muttered, eyeing a particularly daunting overhang, “nothing a strong will can’t handle.” He watched as the first wave began their climb, a chaotic scramble of limbs and boots on sandstone. Suddenly, a commotion erupted near the start of the path. Three burly young men, their chests puffed out, blocked the narrowest section, sneering at a smaller, trembling girl. “Look at this one, trying to climb with legs like jello,” one of them, a thick-necked brute, guffawed. “Go home, little bird. This path is for warriors, not fledglings.” Tears beaded on the girl’s eyelashes, but she dared not speak. The other candidates shuffled backward, unwilling to intervene. Guntur furrowed his brow. “That’s not very polite,” he mumbled, taking a step forward. Before he could open his mouth, a flash of motion. A figure, slender but whip-cord strong, moved with the grace of a jungle cat. A young woman with dark hair tied back in a neat braid stepped between the bully and the girl. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, fixed on Raden. “The rules state a clear path for all candidates,” she said, her tone cool and level. “Move.” Raden scoffed. “Oh, look, Intan Cahaya wants to play hero. Or maybe you’re just trying to thin the competition? Afraid someone might actually outshine you?” Intan didn’t reply with words. Her right foot swept out in a low arc, barely a blur. Raden, caught off guard, stumbled backward, his bravado instantly deflating. Before he could regain his footing, Intan’s palm met his chest with a soft *thwack*. No visible force, yet Raden flew back three meters, landing with an undignified grunt in a pile of discarded fruit peels. His two companions stared, then quickly helped him up, their faces pale. “The path is clear,” Intan stated, her gaze sweeping over the remaining crowd. A hushed murmur of admiration rippled through the crowd. Guntur’s smile broadened. “Wow! She’s really good! Super fast!” Intan offered the trembling girl a small nod before turning back to the rocky stairway, leaving the bullies sputtering in her wake. Raden, face crimson with humiliation, glared at Guntur, who stood nearby beaming with innocent awe. “You!” Raden snarled, pointing a trembling finger at Guntur. “You think that was funny, do you? Laughing at me?” Guntur blinked. “No, I just thought she was very impressive! Really quick!” Raden’s rage boiled over. He scanned the treacherous cliff face, his eyes falling on a precarious overhang of cracked stone high above Guntur. A malicious glint entered his eyes. With a surge of strength born from fury, Raden leapt onto a smaller rock, gripping the cliff face. He began to furiously kick at the unstable pile of stones. Dust and pebbles rained down, then a sickening rumble. A slab of granite, the size of a water buffalo, detached itself from the cliff, followed by a torrent of rubble, hurtling directly toward Guntur. “ROCKSLIDE!” someone screamed. Panic erupted. People scattered, scrambling away from the impending disaster. Guntur looked up, his cheerful expression dipping into a slight frown. “Oh, that’s not good,” he murmured, watching the colossal rock plummet. It was going to hit the path, right where he stood. Instinct took over. He braced himself, planting his feet firmly. This wasn’t just a training post; this was real. He channeled the strange, thrumming energy he’d felt since the ‘System’ appeared. His fist clenched, every muscle in his arm coiling. He wasn't aiming for anything fancy; he was just trying to keep the rock from crushing him, meeting force with focused force as Grandfather had drilled into him. [CRITICAL HIT PROTOCOL ACTIVATED. MULTIPLIER: 100x. PLANETARY STABILITY: MONITORING.] Guntur didn’t see the message. He only saw the falling stone, now mere meters away. With a primal roar, he unleashed his punch. It wasn’t a graceful martial arts strike; it was a simple, earnest, direct punch, aimed at the center of the descending mass. His fist connected. Not with a crash, but with a sound like a thousand thunderclaps compressed into a single, terrifying *CRACK*. The air around him shimmered, distorting like heat haze. The water-buffalo-sized mass didn’t just crack; it vaporized. It exploded into a fine, sparkling dust that billowed outwards like a cosmic cloud, catching the sunlight in a dazzling, ephemeral display. The entire avalanche, every single rock and pebble, caught in the wake of that incomprehensible force, was instantly pulverized into microscopic particles, creating a glittering mist that rained down on the assembled crowd. A newly formed crater, deep and impossibly smooth, marked the spot where the boulder should have landed. The ground trembled for a long moment, then settled. Intan, ten paces up the winding stairway, had pivoted at the blast. The shimmering dust cloud enveloped her, dusting her hair and clothes with an iridescent sheen. She coughed, brushing white dust from her shoulders. Her gaze locked onto the immense crater, then on Guntur, who stood dead center with a thin wisp of smoke curling off his knuckles. From the very center of the newly formed crater, a small, fluffy, six-legged creature, no bigger than Guntur’s head, twitched. Its fur, a vibrant azure, bristled. It had been buried deep beneath the earth, woken by the cataclysmic impact. It scampered out, sniffing the air. A faint, golden light pulsed from the dust-filled air, residual energy from Guntur’s punch. The creature let out a delighted squeak, scampering toward the glowing dust, gobbling it up with gusto. It then nuzzled Guntur’s leg, purring contentedly, as if he was its long-lost parent. Guntur bent down, a wide smile returning to his face. “Oh, hello there, little guy! You were down there? Don’t worry, I saved you!” He gently scratched behind one of Bolo’s tiny ears. Bolo let out another happy purr. Intan walked down the path, her steps slow and deliberate. Her hawk-sharp eyes, no longer merely assessing, were narrowed with a profound suspicion. She stopped a few paces from Guntur and the purring creature, her gaze intense, penetrating. Her voice, usually so calm, held an edge Guntur hadn't heard before. “That wasn’t a known martial art. What did you just do?”

The Boulder and the Beast