The room was deathly silent as the glowing number 1 flickered above.
[Number 1, it is your turn.]
The first participant stepped forward, the air thick with tension.
A tall man, his armor stained with dried blood, walked confidently toward the center of the massive chamber.
His steps were steady, his posture firm, but the sheer presence of the three dragons before him made even someone like him seem insignificant.
He stopped a few feet away and kneeled slightly, showing respect.
“I am Rael of the Ironblood Clan,” he announced, his voice calm yet firm, “I’ve come to claim the right to enter the [Dragon Bloodline Trial].”
Zyphir, the Primordial Storm Dragon, let out a slow, bored sigh. “We’ll see about that.”
With a flick of his claw, an invisible force crashed down on Rael.
His muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and a crushing weight pressed onto his shoulders as if an unseen hand was trying to bury him into the ground.
Xeltharion, the Primordial Chaos Dragon, was the first to speak.
His deep, rumbling voice echoed through the chamber, “Three questions. Answer well.”
Rael met their gazes head-on and nodded.
The first question came from Orvion, the Primordial Earth Dragon.
“Are you strong?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you are worthy of joining us?”
“Yes.”
Alex, watching from the sidelines, frowned.
“These questions are easy. The answer is always ‘yes.'”
Alphox’s voice echoed in his mind.
“No. The first two are always the same, strength and worthiness. But the third… is always different.”
“Alright,” Alex murmured, folding his arms.
The three dragons exchanged knowing looks before their lips curled into sharp, amused smiles.
“If you had to choose between absolute strength and absolute loyalty, which would you pick?”
Rael’s face twitched.
This was trickier than before.
He hesitated for only a moment before answering.
“Strength. Loyalty is a leash. Strength is freedom.”
Silence.
The dragons studied him, their expressions unreadable.
Then—
“No.”
“No.”
“No.”
Rejection.
Before Rael could even react, Zyphir raised a single claw.
A blinding bolt of lightning descended from above, striking him instantly.
BOOM!
The moment the electricity touched him, his body disintegrated.
No scream. No struggle. Just ashes.
Nothing remained.
A chill ran through the other participants.
There was no hesitation in the dragons’ judgment.
No explanations.
Just a simple yes or no.
And failure meant death.
The glowing number above shifted.
[Number 2, it is your turn.]
A woman with silver hair stepped forward.
Her aura was strong but cautious.
She bowed deeply before speaking.
“I am Lira of the Angel Race.”
Alex blinked.
“That’s the girl who tanked my attack earlier.”
The first two questions came as expected.
“Are you strong?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you are worthy?”
“Yes.”
And then, the third.
“Would you betray your bloodline for power?”
Lira didn’t even blink.
“No.”
The dragons chuckled.
“No hesitation, huh?”
Then came their verdict.
Zyphir: “Yes.”
Orvion: “No.”
Xeltharion: “Yes.”
Two out of three.
[Lira has been accepted into the Dragon Bloodline Trial.]
The silver-haired woman simply nodded and walked toward the far side of the room, where a glowing panel marked [Accepted] awaited.
One by one, the participants stepped forward.
Some were instantly rejected at the third question, struck down before they could even react.
Others passed, earning two or three yes votes.
There was no discernible pattern to how the dragons judged.
In fact, as Alphox said, the third question was always different from participant to participant.
Were they choosing the questions based on what they saw the participants do in the hallway? Or just selecting from a massive pool?
“It’s not random,” Alphox spoke, “But watch out.”
Some who seemed powerful were wiped from existence in an instant.
Others, who looked weaker, passed effortlessly.
The dragons gave no explanations.
The numbers continued climbing.
With every failure, the room grew colder, the tension more unbearable for those that had to wait.
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Some warriors who once stood tall hesitated before stepping forward, realizing that their fate could be decided, and erased, in seconds.
Alex’s turn was rapidly approaching.
Most of the people in his section had already gone, leaving only a handful remaining.
Alphox’s voice rang in his mind.
“At this rate, you’ll be rejected.”
“I know.”
No matter what Alex did or tried to do, he was still a human to the dragons.
He still had the [Fox Bloodline] as an excuse if they ever ask him, obviously, but it was guaranteed.
Plus, what if he answered a question right, but they still decided to reject him?
If such a thing happened, he needed to be ready.
And to do that, Alex needed [Destiny Points].
This was to ensure he could use [Destiny Shift] at least ten times to save himself from anything happening.
This skill was a lifesaver, and it also allowed Alex to be more reckless and do more risky things than before without the fear of truly dying.
Primordial Dragons like these could usually detect someone’s constitution, which also meant they would do [Soul Attacks] to Alex.
But if he made any wrong move here while trying to get [Destiny Points], the dragons would eliminate him without a second thought.
He had to find another way.
A way to farm points, discreetly.
He approached one of the other waiting participants.
“Hey,” he said.
The man sneered, stepping away.
“Don’t come near me, disgusting human.”
“…Alright.”
He tried a few more times with different people, but the results were the same.
No one wanted anything to do with him.
Then, his gaze landed on someone different.
A Fallen Angel, the one who had effortlessly cleared his entire hallway earlier.
Unlike the others, the Fallen Angel didn’t flinch or recoil when Alex approached.
His posture remained relaxed, as if he truly didn’t care.
Alex stopped in front of him.
“Hey,” he said again.
The Fallen Angel turned his head slightly. His voice was smooth, calm.
“Yes?”
“Can I ask for a favor?”
“Depends.”
“I just want to hit you lightly. About fifty times.”
The Fallen Angel didn’t react.
Alex braced himself.
Most people would take offense to such a request.
He even tried activating his [Cursed Eyes of Truth] to check the angel’s stats, but—
[A protection stops you from observing this being.]
As expected.
No one would accept something like this.
It would be humiliating.
And yet—
The Fallen Angel simply observed Alex for a few seconds.
Then, he shrugged.
“Go ahead. I don’t care.”
“Really?”
The angel nodded, his aura flickering faintly.
“Thanks,” Alex said. “What’s your name?”
“Astariel,” the Fallen Angel replied, “and you are Alex.”
[Truth.]
It was the first time the [Truth or Lie] function of the eyes activated, but it was probably to see if he had lied.
Looks like he didn’t though.
Still, he nodded.
“Yeah.”
Astariel turned his gaze back toward the trial, studying the participants like a hunter analyzing his prey.
Alex took a deep breath, then threw a light punch.
[+2 Destiny Points!]
It worked. Small hits counted.
Astariel didn’t even blink.
Alex continued.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Soft strikes against the angel’s armor.
Each hit gave him another 2 points.
And after less than thirty seconds—
[Destiny Points: 100/100]
Back to full.
“Thanks,” Alex said, lowering his hand.
Astariel barely reacted.
“No problem.”
Then, a slight smirk that Alex couldn’t see or detect in his voice, “I hope you pass the exam, human.”
Alex turned away but smiled slightly, “You too.”
The guy was… surprisingly chill.
Time passed. The numbers continued to climb.
And then—
[Number 523, it is your turn.]
His number.
Alex exhaled slowly.
All eyes turned toward him.
He stepped forward.
The weight of countless gazes pressed onto his back.
The three Primordial Dragons looked down at him.
Their eyes gleamed with curiosity.
And judgment.