231: The Trial

On the Dragon's Homeland, a moss-covered ancient dragon slowly opened its eyes. 

Its body resembled a massive rock, with vegetation covering its scales, making it seem like part of the mountain itself. 

Its murky eyes opened, and upon closer inspection, one would realize that its eyes were entirely gray—this was a blind dragon. 

Dust fell from its body as the massive dragon slowly revealed its form. 

It was a silver dragon, towering at a staggering 100 feet. Even fully grown dragons appeared small in comparison. 

A dense, grass-like beard covered its chin. 

The most striking feature was its wings—not the usual bat-like, leathery ones, but instead, fully covered in white feathers. 

Its awakening carried an innate pressure that rippled through the land, startling the other dragons of the Dragon's Homeland. 

A 70-foot black dragon flew over, its head adorned with golden, glimmering horns—it was a Romanian Longhorn. 

"Wise One, what has caused you to awaken?" 

This Romanian Longhorn was an elder guarding the Dragon's Homeland. In its 150 years here, it had never seen the ancient one stir. 

It carried itself with deep reverence—such was the respect owed to a dragon that had lived for millennia. 

The blind sage's lifeless eyes gazed toward the Breathless Valley. 

Echoing in its ears was the sound of a dragon's roar—young, yet carrying an extraordinary force. 

"I have heard... the voice of the Young King."

Its voice was filled with the weight of ages, sending tremors through the dust on its body, causing small stones to jump. 

"The Young King?!" The black dragon's eyes widened. 

In Breathless Valley, there was a legend about a King. 

Dragons would heed the King's command, tearing apart anything in his name. 

This very valley had been created by the first King—the legendary ancient dragon. 

The enclosing stone walls that cut it off from the outside world were said to be formed from the King's bones, and the homeland of the dragons was born from his horns. 

For a thousand years, no King had been born among the dragons, and so the Sage had fallen into slumber. 

A "Young King" referred to a dragon with the potential to become the next King. 

In an era where even a Young King had ceased to appear, this revelation sent tremors through the Romanian Longhorn's body. 

It could already imagine the waves of upheaval that the Young King's arrival would cause. 

This was history in the making—history it would witness firsthand. 

… 

RoOAar!

After breaking the red dragon's horns, John swept his gaze over the entire gathering with an imposing air. 

Most of the dragons here had yet to earn their names, and none dared meet his eyes. 

Carrying the weight of his victory, John soared back toward the cave.

He stored away the two dragon horns—these were valuable treasures. 

No dragon dared covet Amoham's home anymore. 

The next day. 

The day of the trial had arrived. 

John saw countless dragons soaring toward the Land of Dragons. 

He followed them. 

As he neared the Land of Dragons, he noticed that the wind elements around him had begun to thin. 

Some dragons, caught off guard, plummeted straight down. 

"Has the trial begun?" 

John steadied himself, spreading his wings wide and gliding forward. 

The three Romanian female dragons heading for the Land of Dragons also fell. 

John kept his distance from them. 

This trial was meant for every dragon individually—he wouldn't be able to help them even if he wanted to. 

The closer he got to the Land of Dragons, the heavier the pressure became.

By the time he could no longer fly, he had already reached the base of the mountains near the Land of Dragons. 

Among the dragons that had landed here, besides him, there was a burly Welsh Green and a Romanian Longhorn. 

The Welsh Green was panting heavily, focused entirely on its struggle to move forward, paying no attention to John. 

The Romanian Longhorn, however, cast a wary glance at John. 

John's act of breaking the Red Dragon's horns yesterday had spread, and every dragon now knew he was not to be trifled with. 

There was no reason for it to make an enemy out of him. 

So, without any unnecessary actions, it continued moving toward the Land of Dragons. 

John sized up the two dragons. Both of them were noticeably larger than the dragons outside this place. 

Just then, a shadow loomed over him, and an intense heat radiated from above. 

He quickly dodged as a blast of dragon fire struck the ground, melting the brown earth into a crater. 

Another black dragon descended—it wasn't particularly large, about 40 feet in length. 

A Hebridean Black. 

A dragon radiating pure hostility. 

It attacked the moment it landed. 

John wasn't about to tolerate this nonsense—digging his claws into the ground, he lunged straight at the black dragon.

The black dragon was at a disadvantage in size and kept spewing dragonfire from its mouth. 

John dodged the flames and closed in, slashing his claws across the black dragon's chest plate, tearing it apart. 

The black dragon howled in pain, retaliating with a blast of fire that landed directly on John. 

However, thanks to his innate fire resistance, John wasn't harmed at all. In fact, he felt his strength replenishing instead. 

Heh~

Tearing through the flames, John grabbed the black dragon's head and slammed it into the ground. 

Even for a fire dragon, the force of the impact was enough to leave it dazed for a moment. 

The black dragon, though smaller, was also faster. 

Its spiked tail swung toward John like a whip. 

John turned his head and unleashed a concentrated blast of dragonfire directly at the tail. The flames instantly engulfed the black dragon's body. 

The dark green tail, now ablaze, swung like a meteor hammer—smashing straight into the black dragon's own skull. 

The screaming stopped. 

The black dragon collapsed, its body still burning. 

"Looks like not all dragons are smart enough to ignore me." 

John remained expressionless. With one dragon dealt with, he had fallen slightly behind in progress.

The path to Dragon's Homeland was singular—dragons without a True Name could only climb their way up. 

This was part of the trial. The pressure bore down on their bodies, squeezing the flesh beneath their scales. 

The closer they got, the heavier the pressure became. 

The black dragon had originally planned to take John out first, seeing him as a dangerous obstacle. 

After all, obtaining a True Name wasn't just about passing the trial—there was another crucial factor. 

The fewer dragons that made it to the top, the greater the power granted when the True Name was bestowed. 

A True Name was like a fixed reservoir of energy—if fewer dragons reached the end, each one would receive a larger share of the power. 

That was why, during every trial, many dragons fought and perished along the way. 

After all, no one wanted their portion of power to be divided further. 

Having eliminated the black dragon, John quickened his pace. 

He climbed toward Dragon's Homeland. The Welsh Green beside him showed no interest in eliminating competitors—it simply climbed diligently like an honest, hard-working dragon. 

The Romanian Longhorn, on the other hand, eyed the Welsh Green with a predatory gleam. However, it was rational enough to hold back, knowing that with only three dragons, there would still be plenty of power to go around. 

That rationality held—until more dragons arrived. 

As their numbers grew, so did the tension, and soon, it snapped. 

The battle between dragons erupted. 

The Romanian Longhorn let out a furious roar. 

Nearby, a Peruvian Vipertooth emerged, ready to fight.

The Peruvian Vipertooth was the smallest of all dragons, its lean body free of excess bulk. 

But its compact frame granted it exceptional agility, and its venomous fangs were a threat even to fire dragons. 

The Romanian Longhorn tried to drive it away, but the Vipertooth was simply too fast. 

"Roar—!" 

The Romanian Longhorn's breath attack grazed the Vipertooth's wing, but in the next instant, the smaller dragon's venomous fangs sank deep into its wing. 

With a twist of its head, the Romanian Longhorn drove its golden horns straight through the Vipertooth's body, slamming it to the ground and roasting it into charcoal with another blast of dragonfire. 

But after that, the Romanian Longhorn's eyes turned bloodshot. 

The Vipertooth's venom was taking effect. 

Driven into a frenzy, it lunged at John. 

Dragon's Homeland was right in front of them. 

John didn't hesitate—he picked up speed and lowered his head, ramming his horns into the Romanian Longhorn with full force. 

His claws sharpened, gleaming like razor-edged blades. 

With a swift strike, John tore open the Romanian Longhorn's throat. 

The other dragons, seeing this, immediately charged at John, eager to eliminate him first. 

John tackled one to the ground, the primal dragon instinct in his blood igniting. 

He pried open the dragon's jaws and unleashed a breath of fire straight into its mouth.

Even a fire dragon couldn't survive such intense heat from within. 

Its body glowed red-hot before exploding into pieces. 

The sheer brutality of the kill completely awakened John's ferocity. 

An Ukrainian Ironbelly clamped its jaws onto his wing, but with a powerful flap, John sent both the dragon and his own wing smashing into the ground. 

The Ironbelly crashed down hard, dazed and disoriented. 

John wasted no time—his fangs tore through its throat, ending its life in a single bite. 

Tilting his head back, he let out a primal roar to the sky. 

"WHO ELSE WANTS TO DIE?!" 

His bloodlust and overwhelming presence radiated outward. 

The sheer viciousness of the scene sent chills through the dragons. 

One by one, they hesitated, stopping in their tracks, fear flashing in their eyes. None dared approach John. 

The wild glint in John's eyes gradually faded. 

Turning away from the other dragons, he focused on Dragon's Homeland and continued forward. 

The Welsh Green scrambled up the path in a frenzy, terrified of drawing John's attention. 

John wasn't slow either. 

Thanks to the Blessing, he could alter his dragon form a little, making himself better suited for the climb. 

It wasn't long before he caught up to the Welsh Green. 

The dragon, startled, snorted out a burst of flame and froze in place, too afraid to move forward.

"Was that really necessary?" John was speechless. 

He had assumed the Welsh Green was a tough opponent, but it turned out to be such a coward. 

Oh well, he wasn't about to refuse the advantage. 

After climbing a bit further, John finally reached Dragon's Homeland. 

Looking up, he was immediately met with the sight of a Romanian Longhorn. 

For a moment, he almost thought it was the one he had just torn apart earlier. 

But after getting a clearer look at its size, he realized he had been mistaken. 

The elder dragon stared at John, a flicker of surprise flashing through its eyes. 

It had never seen a dragon like John before—he didn't match any breed it was familiar with.

___________

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