Chapter 545: Three Supre Masters
“What?!” Max couldn’t hide his shock as Lady Virelia casually explained the reason behind Lucia’s obsessive pursuit of every major inheritance of the Black Dragon Palace.
Just because soone—so elder, ntor, or perhaps even a peer—had once said she couldn’t possibly comprehend them all, she had taken those words to heart and decided to do exactly that, all to prove them wrong.
It was absurd. It was childish. And yet it was completely her.
“Who does sothing like that?” Max muttered to himself. He shook his head in disbelief, his mind racing with thoughts.
She wasn’t doing it to gain power, enlightennt, or even prestige—no, her motivation was to silence a few doubters. In Max’s eyes, that kind of stubbornness wasn’t ambition, it was obsession rooted in pride. A dangerous kind of pride.
“She’s too stubborn,” Max said under his breath, not hiding the judgnt in his tone.
Jason only laughed in response, not denying it. “That’s her charm. Or her curse, depending on who you ask.”
“Anyway,” Jason added with a grin, “she’ll be trying the Nine Dragons Painting any mont now.”
At that, all three of them turned to look at the towering mural. Max’s sharp eyes imdiately caught the faint glow emanating from the painting. It began softly, like a rising heartbeat, and then gradually intensified—the ethereal shimr of divine energy spreading through the entire canvas. The dragons depicted in the painting seed to stir slightly, their ancient eyes gleaming with a sense of sentience.
“She’s going in,” Lady Virelia confird, her voice calm but laced with subtle intrigue.
“At a ti, only nine geniuses can enter the Nine Dragons Painting,” she added, turning to Max. “So… when do you plan to enter?”
Max’s eyes remained on the glowing painting. His expression was thoughtful, patient. “I’ll enter during the second phase,” he said calmly. “I want to see how far she goes. If she can reach the eighth floor, I want to see it with my own eyes.”
Lady Virelia nodded in understanding. Jason, as usual, grinned. “Ooooh, soone’s curious.”
But Max remained silent. He simply stared at the painting, waiting.
Just then, the surface of the Nine Dragons Painting shimred as nine glowing dots slowly erged across its lower portion—each one representing a genius who had entered the painting and stepped onto the first floor.
Though no one could actually witness the battles occurring within, nor the trials each participant faced in that divine space, these luminous dots were the only visible markers for the observers outside.
Yet, they were far from aningless. The dots pulsed with the unique aura of each individual, radiating a faint, recognizable resonance that allowed those familiar with them to easily distinguish who was who.
Every dot carried the essence of the genius it represented—the sharp, aggressive pressure of soone wielding a fla-based inheritance, the calm, flowing energy of soone rooted in spatial techniques, the heavy stillness of one trained in law-based suppression. It was subtle but undeniable.
Observers and instructors alike watched the painting with rapt attention, identifying the geniuses and silently evaluating their progress. The dots remained still for a mont—anchored to the first segnt of the painting—then suddenly, one of them moved. Just slightly. Then another. Each ascension to the second floor of the painting was marked by that shift, subtle yet clear.
A soft murmur rippled through the crowd as the atmosphere turned more focused. From here on, every movent—every shift upward—would an soone had overco a portion of the painting’s ancient trial, ascending to higher floors.
“Oh, she just entered,” Jason said, narrowing his eyes as he sensed Lucia’s aura from one of the nine glowing dots that had just appeared inside the Nine Dragons Painting.
Max also tried to sense her, and while he did catch faint traces of her energy signature, the divine aura emitted by the painting itself made it difficult to pinpoint which dot belonged to her precisely. The overwhelming, godlike presence woven into the canvas disrupted his perception.
As Max observed the painting, he suddenly asked, “I’m curious… what exactly do we fight inside the Nine Dragons Painting?”
Lady Virelia glanced at the glowing mural, then calmly explained, “The first three floors test your comprehension of the inheritances you’ve learned. They’ll challenge your understanding and force you to apply the concepts practically. The next three floors shift in purpose—they test your endurance, pushing your body, energy, and mind to the limit. It’s a war of attrition.”
She paused slightly before her tone beca heavier. “But the final three… they are the true test. At those heights, the difficulty becos unimaginable. You face none other than the Three Supre Masters of the Black Dragon Palace—the creators of palace itself, and remnants of their strength, their will, were sealed into the painting. That is what guards the top floors.”
Max’s brows furrowed slightly. He hadn’t expected to face opponents who created the very paths he now walked upon. Just imagining what kind of monsters they must have been made the air around him feel heavier.
Lady Virelia patiently began to explain, her voice steady as her gaze lingered on the glowing Nine Dragons Painting. “There is a very common story told in the Black Dragon Palace of the Divine Realm—passed down for countless generations. It is said that before the creation of the Black Dragon Palace itself, long before even the first bricks were laid, three friends—a woman and two n—discovered the corpse of a Black Chaotic Dragon. With its blood and essence, they laid the foundation of what would later beco one of the greatest forces in the Divine Realm: the Black Dragon Palace.”
She paused briefly before continuing, “Of course, over ti, the story splintered into many variations. In so versions, those three weren’t just lucky wanderers, but individuals chosen—blessed directly by the Black Chaotic Dragon, its bloodline fusing with theirs, giving rise to power unmatched across the realms. In other versions, it’s said they were already legendary figures, powerful enough to battle the Black Dragon itself, and upon slaying it, they used its remains to build the Palace as a divine gift to the world.”
Her voice softened, eyes thoughtful. “Which version is true, no one can say. Maybe they’re all wrong. Or maybe they all hold pieces of the truth. But what we do know is this—three individuals really did co together to form the Black Dragon Palace. And before they passed on, they left behind fragnts of their souls, sealed within the original Nine Dragons Painting—the very first one created.”
She added in the last. “Every other Nine Dragons Painting in the mortal worlds or even in other branches of the palace is rely a projection, all connected to that one original canvas. And so, ever since that day, the trial of the Nine Dragons Painting has continued. A legacy and a challenge left behind by the founders themselves.”
“I see,” Max murmured, his voice tinged with quiet awe as he stared at the glowing Nine Dragons Painting in the distance. He hadn’t imagined there was such a profound and mysterious origin behind the Black Dragon Palace—a legend that not only spoke of its creation but also tied directly into the Nine Dragons Painting, the very trial he was about to face.
The idea that three mythical figures, the founders of the palace, had either drawn their power from a Black Chaotic Dragon or slain one to forge this mighty institution—it gave the entire palace a weight, a history deeper and more sacred than he had considered.
And now, knowing that these sa figures had left behind fragnts of their souls in the original painting, the final challenge of the Nine Dragons Painting suddenly made perfect sense.
‘Now I can see why only a very few ever conquered the seventh floor to step into the eighth… and none had ever breached beyond the eighth to touch the ninth,’ Max thought, his eyes narrowing as understanding settled over him like a quiet storm.
To face the Three Supre Masters, the actual founders of the Black Dragon Palace—even if only soul fragnts or reflections of them—it was inevitable that the difficulty would be monstrous. It wasn’t just a test of power or comprehension anymore. It was a challenge set forth by legends themselves.
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