Dust and stone shards fell as Tarun climbed a flat cliff.
He was at the sharp mountain about two kilometres east of the camp of the central campsite at the periphery of the purple fog forest, and was climbing the cliff to the settlement of the group leader, Drokan.
Sweat drenched him, and dust clung to him, but he continued to climb while shivering under the abuse of the cold wind.
After a few minutes, his hands finally reached the top, and a groan slid out as he pushed himself up.
He dragged himself a few steps away from the edge and sprawled on the ground.
Tired breaths escaped him, and he muttered, "That was fun..."
"You are still the same."
His eyes widened as the words reached him. He struggled to sit up and turned his head towards the voice.
A few steps away from him stood a broad-shouldered man with a body full of dense muscles perfected by the restless combat, and the scars across his body were highlighted due to his bronze-tanned skin.
