In the afternoon, Robert led his knights to "visit" the irritable mother beast by the Blackwater River.
The sun hung lazily in the sky, yet the air around Blackstone Town carried a subtle tension.
Old Buck's rat-catching campaign continued methodically. On the outskirts of town, pits had been dug and simple traps laid out in neat rows. The earthy scent of freshly turned soil mingled with the sharp aroma of a special rat-repellent herb, spreading faintly through the warm air.
Every high-tier magical beast was a treasure—both a valuable resource and a formidable weapon for any lord.
The Ironclad Rhinoceros, a third-tier magical beast, possessed combat power comparable to that of an Earth Knight of the same rank.
Pegasi were fine creatures too, but their unpredictable temperaments and elusive nature made them almost impossible to capture. Robert had arranged for two knights to patrol the forest's edge in alternating shifts, hoping for a rare chance encounter.
The Ironclad Rhinoceros, however, was different. Though violent by nature, if one could raise it from youth, its massive strength and defensive power could be turned into a moving fortress on the battlefield.
Half an hour later, Robert and his small, lightly armed party left Blackstone Town and headed south.
The Blackwater River, narrow yet winding, meandered across the plains, nourishing the fertile soil along its banks. South of the Blackstone Mountains, the river's curves created a lush ribbon of greenery.
The further they went, the more the land began to rise. Sparse shrubs and drought-resistant grasses grew amid the rough terrain, dotted here and there with twisted Black Iron Trees clinging stubbornly to life. A faint musky odor lingered in the air—the unmistakable sign of a large magical beast's territory.
Bolin, the veteran tracker, walked in front, scanning the surroundings. From time to time, he crouched to examine a broken twig or a patch of disturbed soil.
"My lord, over here," he said suddenly.
Robert stepped forward. In the soft mud lay a series of enormous hoof prints—each one deep, broad, and fresh.
"It's the Ironclad Rhinoceros," Bolin said grimly. "Judging by how fresh these are, it should still be nearby."
Robert nodded, signaling everyone to stay alert and keep moving. As they advanced, he extended his senses to their limit. Since becoming a formal knight, his perception had sharpened dramatically—every rustle of leaves, every faint pulse of elemental energy now stood out to him like a whisper in silence.
After a few hundred meters, they passed through a thicket and emerged into a small, open valley by the river. Large rocks jutted from the ground like broken fangs, and in the center of the clearing lay an enormous creature.
It looked like a living mountain, its body covered in thick, black metal-like scales that gleamed dully under the afternoon sun. A massive horn jutted from its nose, glinting coldly, while four pillar-like legs supported its bulk.
There was no mistaking it—the third-tier magical beast, the Ironclad Rhinoceros.
The creature seemed to be dozing. Its slow, heavy breaths came out like gusts from a forge, each exhalation rippling the nearby grass.
Beneath its belly, two small rhinos nestled against their mother, playfully nudging each other. Their scales were still soft and grayish, their tiny horns barely visible. Despite their lineage, they looked almost endearing in their clumsy innocence.
Robert's heartbeat quickened. His eyes shifted between the colossal mother and the young rhinos, measuring risk and opportunity.
After several minutes of quiet observation, he noticed that though the Ironclad Rhinoceros seemed asleep, its ears twitched occasionally, rotating to track sounds. The beast was resting—but it was not relaxed. One wrong move could provoke a deadly response.
Just as Robert signaled his men to stay low, a rustling came from the bushes on the far side of the valley.
A Demonic Hyena, a second-tier magical beast, crept out cautiously. Its eyes gleamed with hunger as it spotted the young rhinos. Drool dripped from its fangs as it began to inch closer.
It never got the chance.
The Ironclad Rhinoceros, which had been lying motionless, suddenly opened its eyes—two blood-red orbs burning with fury.
"MOOOO—!"
The roar was deafening. The ground itself seemed to tremble under its rage.
In an instant, the massive beast rose to its feet, its muscles rippling under armored hide. Its four hooves slammed into the dirt, tearing up clumps of earth as it charged.
The Ironclad Rhinoceros moved like a siege engine unleashed—massive, unstoppable, and terrifyingly fast.
The Demonic Hyena froze, eyes wide with panic, but it was already too late. The rhinoceros thundered forward like an avalanche, the air shaking with each stride.
In the blink of an eye, the two collided.
Thud!
The impact sounded like a thunderclap. The hyena's body crumpled instantly, bones shattering as it was hurled aside like a rag doll. It didn't even have time to scream. Blood and flesh splattered across the rocks, staining the ground crimson.
Still in motion, the Ironclad Rhinoceros plowed forward several more meters, smashing through a cluster of boulders before finally slowing to a halt. It tossed its head, shaking off the gore clinging to its horn, and bellowed once more—a proclamation of dominance that echoed across the valley.
Behind a line of rocks, Robert and his men crouched low, hearts pounding, sweat dripping down their temples.
"Oh my heavens…" Bolin whispered, face pale. "That thing moves faster than a warhorse—no, faster! And the impact… it's monstrous."
Another knight swallowed hard. "If you took that charge head-on, even in full armor, you'd end up as a puddle of flesh."
Both knights were veterans of countless battles, yet before this raw display of power, even they felt a cold helplessness settle over them. They knew that with their current speed and strength, evading such an attack was nearly impossible.
Robert, however, stared intently at the beast, his expression sharpening.
Fast. Unbelievably fast.
But there was something else—something he had noticed during that brutal display.
The rhinoceros's charge was straight, unwavering, like an arrow loosed from a bow. It never turned, never adjusted its path once it began. When it struck the hyena and the rocks, it simply plowed through them, unable—or unwilling—to shift direction.
A realization flashed through Robert's mind.
Its speed and power were immense, but both relied entirely on momentum. Such a creature, driven by instinct and brute strength, lacked agility. Once it began its charge, it could only move in a straight line. And when its young were threatened, its rage made it reckless.
"Its speed is terrifying," Robert murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "But it's not invincible."
The knights turned toward him, disbelief flickering in their eyes.
"My lord," Bolin said, "you can't mean to fight that thing head-on! We wouldn't even last a second."
Robert's lips curved faintly. "Who said anything about meeting it head-on?"
Bolin blinked. "Then… what do you mean?"
Robert's voice dropped to a calm, almost conspiratorial tone.
"We don't need to block it. And we don't need to outrun it."
He pointed toward the terrain—the uneven rocks, the sloping ground, the narrow bends of the river.
"We just have to make it run itself into trouble."
The knights exchanged glances, slowly realizing what he meant.
The Ironclad Rhinoceros was a creature of brute power, not finesse. If they could bait it—make it charge blindly into a trap or obstacle—it would defeat itself.
Bolin hesitated. "You're planning to lure it?"
Robert nodded. "Exactly. Its weakness is its own strength. We'll use that."
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of blood and river mud. The Ironclad Rhinoceros had returned to its young, snorting restlessly. Its red eyes still glimmered with violence, and the ground quivered faintly under its weight as it moved.
Robert studied it for a moment longer, his mind already forming a plan. This was not merely about capturing a beast; it was a test of strategy—of intellect against instinct.
He tightened his grip on his sword hilt. "Prepare the ropes. Set the oil jars on the slope. And when I give the signal—move fast."
The knights nodded, tension hardening into resolve.
In the shadow of the valley, as the sun dipped lower, they began to work quietly, setting up their makeshift trap.
The Ironclad Rhinoceros snorted, its massive head swinging toward the faint clatter of armor in the distance. It pawed the ground, muscles coiling. The mother beast's instincts screamed of danger near her young.
Robert stood motionless, eyes sharp and steady.
"Come on, then," he whispered under his breath. "Show me your fury."
The air seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
"MOOOO—!"
With another thunderous roar, the Ironclad Rhinoceros charged again, earth shaking beneath its hooves. The ground trembled, birds scattered from the trees, and a wall of dust rose behind it.
Robert's gaze never wavered.
It had begun.