Alger said to the two of them, "With me watching over you, they won't proactively attack, but if you happen to fall to your death, you'll simply end up as wyvern feed."
"Good luck to you."
This was the entry trial Cassius had instituted for the Redscale Conquerors. Over the past few years, at least a hundred retainers had undertaken this challenge, yet not a single one had succeeded—they had either plummeted to their deaths or fled in panic.
Mantou was on the verge of tears. "Well, gee, thanks a lot."
The wyverns furiously beat their wings in midair, hissing, bellowing, and growling as they gradually circled closer.
In their eyes, as long as they dashed these humans to the ground, they would get an easy snack. It was familiar territory for them; quite a few hobgoblins and tieflings had already ended up in their gullets.
Watching the wyverns draw nearer, Singo murmured, "Mantou, have you picked one yet?"
"Picked what?"
Mantou was still completely bewildered.
Singo, however, pulled several coils of lasso from his backpack, tossing one coil to Mantou, followed by a spray canister filled with an unidentified liquid.
"A mount, of course."
"Huh?"
Mantou was still terrified by the circling wyverns and hadn't gathered his wits, but he soon caught on to his companion's crazy scheme and stood there, dumbfounded.
Ignoring him, Singo continued, "That one on the cliff ledge looks pretty good. It's the biggest, sturdiest beast in this area, so don't you dare fight me for it."
"Watch closely. I'm only showing you this once. I practiced this trick for ages—even tested it back in Red Dead."
With that, he whipped the lasso out with crisp precision, looping it cleanly around the neck of a massive, four-meter-long wyvern perched on the cliffside, then yanked the rope tight.
*Roaaar—*
Caught entirely off guard, the wyvern panicked.
It struggled violently, thrashing its neck and letting out piercing shrieks before frantically flapping its wings in a bid to shake off the human pulling the line.
Yet Singo held on with an iron grip, having wound the hemp rope around his hands several times. Instead of resisting, he rode the momentum of the wyvern's thrashing leaps and bounded straight onto its back.
*Roar!*
Finding itself mounted by a human it considered puny and wretched, the wyvern erupted into furious rage.
It whipped its neck back and forth and beat its wings wildly. Its bulky body surged through the air—accelerating, braking abruptly, spinning in circles, and even deliberately slamming its back against the cliff face.
Yet Singo locked his arms firmly around its neck, refusing to let go no matter how violently it bucked.
He even freed one hand, aimed the spray canister at the wyvern's head, and gave it a spritz, not forgetting to offer midair instruction: "The stuff in that can is female wyvern pheromones. It calms their nerves and soothes their temperament!"
Even so, the struggle took a massive physical toll on Singo.
After several frantic bouts, his stamina was finally spent. Seizing an opening when the wyvern swooped low, he leaped off and rolled across the ground several times to break his fall.
Seeing this, the wyvern let out a roar and moved in to ambush him.
Singo scrambled to his feet in an instant, downed a Potion of Vigor, and squared off against the wyvern again, waiting for another chance to leap onto its back.
"Still fell a bit short. Looks like I'll be grinding here with this beast all day."
Singo grinned, his expression brimming with excitement as he panted, "This brute's a real pain to handle, but the good thing is that every time I mount it, the system shows my proficiency bonus going up."
"Repeat this a few more times, and we'll probably max out our Riding skill proficiency."
Mantou was speechless, managing only a sigh:
"You really are a madman."
Still, when Mantou thought of his dream of soaring through the skies, and then of the eighteen grueling days of hard labor he had endured, he was already at the final hurdle. How could he back out now?
A fierce resolve sparked in his chest.
Fixing his gaze on the wyverns, Mantou gritted his teeth and hurled his lasso with all his might. By some stroke of sheer luck, it landed on the first try, settling over a claw-flailing, three-meter-long wyvern.
Immediately, the beast thrashed and took flight in a panic.
Only, Mantou didn't manage to clamber onto its back. Instead, he was dragged along, dangling beneath the wyvern as it dragged him all over the sky.
"Aaaahhhh—!"
"I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die! Sing-dog, help!"
His pitiful screams echoed throughout the valley.
On the ground, Singo watched Mantou being flung around until dizzy, muttering disdainfully, "Skill issue. Practice more."
He drew his Hunter Longbow and took aim.
*Whoosh—*
The arrow shot true, severing the lasso's rope with a single strike and sending Mantou plunging from the air to hit the dirt face-first.
"Is that how you save someone, Sing-dog...?"
Lying flat on his face, Mantou was ready to weep, resigning himself to quietly chugging a Healing Potion.
Meanwhile, Singo had already caught up to his earlier wyvern, launching into a second bout.
And so, within Wyvern Valley, the two players engaged in one fierce contest after another against the wyverns. Again and again, the beasts threw them off, and again and again, the players climbed back on, their technique growing steadily sharper and their time on the creatures' backs stretching longer and longer.
Eventually, they could even guide the wyverns' flight through bodily shifts, maintaining their balance using only their legs without falling off.
By now, the wyvern had grown entirely exasperated. It shot a hundred meters into the air and began wheeling in tight loops, trying to fling the human on its back to his doom.
Yet Singo remained unfazed. Relying on a pre-prepared Scroll of Feather Fall, he drifted lightly down to the ground, leaving the wyvern roaring in pure frustration, flecks of spittle flying everywhere.
*Roar—*
All that came from the wyvern was a hoarse, exhausted screech.
[Your skill experience has reached the requirement.]
[Your Riding proficiency has increased to +3.]
Singo touched down lightly and called out to Mantou, who had just dismounted his own wyvern, "That felt great. My Riding proficiency is already at +3. How about you?"
Resting his hands on his knees, Mantou panted, "Mine's +2 now. It's just that the zero-gravity sensation makes me want to puke. I wonder if this game even has a vomiting mechanic..."
Singo scoffed, "That's just because you're trash. How are you gonna be a knight if you get dragon-sick?"
Mantou replied in exasperation, "You think everyone's a beast like you? Call Brother Zhankuang over, and he might actually throw up all over the place."
Alger watched the two panting humans, witnessing firsthand their riding skills improve at a pace visible to the naked eye. A rare flicker of astonishment surfaced in his golden pupils.
*Could these so-called 'gifted ones' truly become wyvern knights in such a short span of time?*
*Simply... inconceivable.*
His decades of training experience were entirely upended.
Wyverns were beasts far more vicious and volatile than giant eagles; controlling them was supposed to be as hard as ascending to the heavens.
Even in the former Northern Wind Eagle Guard, out of three hundred men trained over a decade, only a handful of elites like him had ever managed to pull it off.
Yet these two humans...
Their sheer aptitude left Alger questioning his entire life.
Chapter 88