Chapter 544: True Dragon?
‘Only I can sense the divine godly aura from the painting?’ Max thought, his eyes narrowing. For a mont, his heart beat faster with both fear and awe. Was there truly a real dragon—no, a _god_—sealed within this painting? Or perhaps the painting wasn’t a seal, but a window. A passage.
In contrast, Max felt the pressure of the aura almost crushing him. It wasn’t just the painting’s majesty; it was sothing deeper, sothing more primal. The energy radiating from it was not rely visual—it felt alive, divine, terrifying in its vastness.
It was as if the dragons themselves were watching him, their eyes piercing through the very fabric of the painting. His instincts scread that there was more to this than re artistry.
“What happened to you? Why are you sweating so hard?” Lady Virelia’s voice cut through the haze of pressure swirling in Max’s mind. Her tone was calm, but there was a trace of concern layered beneath it.
Max blinked, snapping out of the trance-like awe that had gripped him. He reached up and touched his forehead. His hand ca away wet—slick with sweat.
Only then did he notice the slight tremble in his shoulders, the rapid thrum of his heart pounding against his chest like a war drum. He forced himself to breathe slowly, steadying the chaos inside him.
“I’m sweating?” he said with feigned surprise, glancing down at his damp palms. Then, without missing a beat, he added casually, “Ah… it must be the side effects of my class. I’ve been using one of my abilities non-stop for almost ten days straight during my comprehension phase. Didn’t give my body any rest. Maybe it’s finally catching up to .”
His voice was calm, a practiced ease flowing through his words as he wove the excuse without a flicker of hesitation.
He couldn’t let her—or anyone—connect his reaction to the Nine Dragons Painting. If anyone found out that he alone could feel sothing divine from the painting, it would draw too many eyes, the wrong kinds of attention.
It wasn’t the right ti to reveal sothing so abnormal, so… dangerous. Better to let them believe it was just fatigue from overuse of his class. A temporary exhaustion. Harmless.
Lady Virelia studied him for a second longer, then nodded slowly. “I see. That makes sense. You’ve been pushing yourself quite hard lately. Be careful—our classes may grant us power, but they aren’t without consequences if abused.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Max said with a polite nod, quickly wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his robe. Inside, however, his thoughts remained sharp and focused.
‘That painting… it’s not normal. There’s sothing alive in it. I am sure of it.’ He cast one more subtle glance at the nine dragons dancing across the canvas, then turned his gaze away, playing the part of a calm, unaffected genius. No more mistakes. Not here. Not yet.
As he processed this, Max once again realized that he was the only one in the entire arena who could feel it. The realization hit him hard, and his mind quickly pieced everything together. “It’s my bloodline,” he thought, the answer becoming clearer with every passing mont.
He had known his bloodline was exceptional, but this—this was a whole different level. The divine energy that radiated from the painting was sothing that only a select few could sense, and he was among them.
The other geniuses, despite their impressive talents and powerful inheritances, were too distant from the divine to register such profound auras including the instructors present here.
Max’s bloodline, his connection to the Black Dragon Chaos Bloodline, was far superior to theirs, allowing him to sense this godly aura with clarity.
The others? They were simply too far removed, their bloodlines not pure enough to perceive the level of power in the air.
‘Everyone else here… they can’t feel it,’ Max mused, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘It’s all about the bloodline. I’m simply on a different level.’
With this thought, he stood a little taller, more aware of the subtle power coursing through him. The Black Dragon Palace’s connection to bloodlines ran deeper than anyone could comprehend.
“Oh Max, you are under Aunt Virelia… Nice, nice.” Just then a nonchalant voice reached Max. He turned to see Jason arriving in front him.
“Aunt Virelia, you sure picked up a monster down here.” Jason said smiling.
Lady Virelia looked at Jason and her expression changed a little. “Is your sister done?”
“She is one persistent, stubborn, arrogant prick of a sister so i don’t think she would be done that easily.” Jason said casually and signaled to Max. “Though I have to give it to Max for igniting her sense of competitiveness. And because of it, she is going to try the Nine Dragons Painting.”
Lady Virelia frowned and turned to look at Max who shrugged and then at Jason. “What happened between them?”
Jason let out an exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand through his tousled hair like a man weighed down by the burden of retelling a saga too heavy for re words.
“It’s a very long story,” he said dramatically, pausing as if summoning the will to relive it. Then, with a rueful smile and a shrug, he continued, “To keep it short—Lucia tried to do what she always does: suppress everyone around her with that oh-so-proud Gris bloodline of hers. She radiated her aura, expecting Max to bow or flinch or at least acknowledge it like the rest of the world does. But our dear Max…”
He grinned, clapping Max lightly on the shoulder, “…stood there like it was a breeze on a sunny day. Didn’t even blink. Just strolled past her and sat down right next to her, like she was so background ornant.”
Lady Virelia blinked at that, visibly surprised. “He resisted her bloodline pressure?”
“Not just resisted,” Jason chuckled. “Ignored it. Which for Lucia, let tell you, is worse than open defiance. But it doesn’t end there.”
He leaned in, clearly enjoying every word of the tale. “Four days. That’s all Max needed to completely master the Fla Tyrant Inheritance. Four. Lucia’s been studying that thing for years and still hasn’t perfected it.”
Lady Virelia’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of disbelief flashing through her composed expression. Four days was a too short ti to understand anything let alone perfectly mastering an inheritance.
“And after all that,” Jason continued, “Max ca out of the Tower of Resonance with a perfect 99.99% comprehension. Right in front of her. Then he stood there, looked her dead in the eyes and said—” he deepened his voice in mock imitation, “‘Now apologize to .'”
He broke into laughter, shaking his head. “Lucia nearly imploded on the spot. The frost in her aura could’ve frozen a star.”
Max simply crossed his arms, offering a quiet, amused glance. “She needed it,” he said flatly.
Jason nodded in agreent. “Yeah, she did. But ever since then, she’s been locked away in the dos trying to perfect her comprehension. And now? She’s entering the Nine Dragons Painting. Because of him.” He pointed at Max.
Lady Virelia exhaled, looking at Max with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. “You’ve stirred a storm, whether you ant to or not. She is the most stubborn girl I have ever seen. Soone said to her that she couldn’t possibly learn all the inheritances of the Black Dragon Palace and guess what? She took it to heart and I guess you know the rest.”
Jason shrugged. “That’s what monsters do.”
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