The Dragon Heir Interlude 3.30 [Alexei]

"Well… I suppose that tracks," Alexei said slowly. "I won't claim to be the sharpest mind in the room, but even I could feel sothing wrong about your existence here. Especially in a place where power is more or less capped by design so the whole thing can pass as a fair ga."

He looked across at her. She had leaned forward slightly, attentive.

Alexei cleared his throat. "It would probably make more sense if I started from the beginning."

He raised a hand and wove a small spell of nature magic into the air. Images ford above the table like reflections caught in slow water, drifting and soft at the edges. His illusions were nothing close to what light magic could produce, and they were entirely useless in a fight, but for the purpose of showing soone sothing, they served well enough.

"This happened nearly eleven years ago," he said. "I don't know how much you already know about Vraal'Kor, but the land goes through a kind of tribulation on a rough ten-year cycle."

The illusion shifted. Snow poured from a dark sky and swallowed forests and settlents in steady, patient layers.

"It takes the form of a magical blizzard. Not an ordinary storm. It buries everything under thick snow, and its nature is spatial. If soone loses themselves inside it, they are simply never found again. It doesn't matter how sharp their sense of direction is, or how powerful they are. Once the storm has them, that's the end of it."

The swirling image stretched outward, consuming mountains and open plains alike without distinction.

"The storm runs close to a year, usually. Every sect, every tribe, every monster with enough sense to plan ahead prepares for it well in advance. Once it begins, the entire region enters a kind of held breath. Travel stops. Trade stops. Everything just… waits for it to finish."

He adjusted the illusion, pulling back to show pockets of sheltered land, strange geographical formations, faint magical glows pressing against the white.

"So sects sit in luckier positions than others. The right geography helps, and there are rare phenona that take the worst edge off. But none of that changes what the blizzard fundantally is."

He let out a quiet, humorless sound.

"Most people say it's a tribulation sent by the sacred Ancestors."

A small shrug. "Personally, I've never been certain what to make of that. But the belief runs deep, and it shapes the way people carry themselves through it."

He dropped his hand and let the snow-filled image dissolve.

"I thought it was worth explaining before I went further," he added. "From the way you described arriving here, I assud the blizzard wasn't sothing you'd had the pleasure of hearing about yet."

She gave a small, unbothered shrug. "As I said. I co from very far away."

Then sothing shifted in her expression, a thought arriving that she found worth pursuing.

"Tell sothing," she said. "Do you know what lies to the east of Vraal'Kor?"

Alexei raised his hand again, and a new image rose above the table.

Mountains. Jagged and enormous, their peaks rising like the teeth of sothing that had died in the act of biting the sky. Strange darkness clung to them, definitely not the natural kind darkness of altitude or cloud cover.

"Beyond the God’s Maw," Alexei said, "lies nothing we've ever truly understood."

The image widened to show the full shape of the range, cutting across the continent's edge from northeast to southeast in an unbroken wall. Vast wilderness pressed against its base on this side. Violent, indifferent seas pushed against it from beyond.

"They form a complete barrier. The wilderness hugging the base of them is dangerous enough on its own, and the sea past that is worse." He folded his arms. "As far as anyone knows, no one has ever crossed them. In either direction."

The illusion darkened further.

"History says that anyone who enters those peaks does not co back out. Sa for the wilderness around them. The stories got stranger over ti, the way stories do when no one survives to correct them." His tone went slightly dry. "So accounts say the darkness there is not darkness at all but sothing that devours. That nothing living can persist inside it, which is why nothing has ever co out of the east to tell us otherwise."

He paused.

"Multiple sects have sent expeditions throughout history. Every one of them disappeared. No survivors. No word. Nothing at all."

The image ca apart slowly, the mountains dissolving into empty air.

"Eventually the entire region was declared a crimson zone. Forbidden in every practical and official sense."

A faint shrug.

"Which, naturally, doesn't stop everyone. Every year a handful of people decide they'll be the ones to finally see what's there." He was quiet for a mont. "And every year, a few more nas stop appearing in the world."

Venam nodded and he shifted the illusion again.

"As I said, it happened eleven years ago. People had only just co out the other side of the blizzard. Life that had been holding its breath for over a year was finally moving again. Trade was resuming, sects were rebuilding, people were rembering what it felt like to exist without rationing everything they had." He paused. "And then, almost at once, nearly everyone in Vraal'Kor heard a voice inside their head."

He let that sit for a mont.

"And a quest appeared on their system screens."

He watched her face for recognition and found none, so he continued.

"Everyone in Vraal'Kor is born with a system screen. It's simply part of existing here. It tallies everything about you — your core level, your cultivation progress, your affinities, your physical condition. It functions like an archivist that follows you everywhere and never lies. People grow up with it. It's unremarkable in the sa way breathing is unremarkable."

The illusion above the table shifted, the mountains dissolving into the faint shape of text suspended in pale, cold light.

"What had never happened before, not once in recorded history, was the system speaking. Offering sothing. Issuing the sa directive to every single person within Vraal'Kor simultaneously." He shook his head slightly at the mory. "It was unheard of. And then people actually read what it said."

He shaped the illusion with care, reconstructing the screen exactly as he rembered it. There were things a person did not forget.

The text settled into the air above the table.

[SYSTEM ANNOUNCENT!

GLOBAL QUEST ISSUED

Quest Title: Dragon’s Legacy – Trial of Succession

Quest Rank: Unknown

Description:

A Dragon has departed from this world and left behind Her inheritance.

Before Her passing, She prepared a series of Trials to determine a worthy successor. Those who believe themselves capable may answer the call and compete for the legacy She left behind.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The victor shall inherit the Dragon’s power, knowledge, and treasures.

Eligibility Conditions:

• Maximum Participants: 10,000

• Cultivation Restriction: Below Gold Core

• Species Restriction: None

• Affiliation Restriction: None

Quest Objective:

• Travel North toward the designated Trial Grounds

• Locate the Gate of Entry

• Accept Trial Initiation

• Survive the Trials prepared by the Dragon

Failure Conditions:

• Death within the Trial Grounds

• Withdrawal from the Trial

Rewards:

• Dragon’s Inheritance (Unique Reward)

• Authority over Trial Treasury

• Unknown Additional Benefits

Warning:

Once entry is confird, participants will be isolated from the outside world until the Trial concludes.]

Alexei paused for a mont.

He noticed the faint widening of Venam’s eyes as she read the illusion of the system ssage. It wasn’t shock exactly, but there was recognition in the way she studied it.

“It was vague,” Alexei continued. “All it said was to travel north. But the ssage ca from the system itself, sothing every person in Vraal’Kor has lived with since birth. And it presented itself as the call of sothing… sacred.”

The illusion shifted again, forming the vague silhouette of a dragon above the floating screen.

“Dragons,” he said quietly, “are mythical beings who once ruled the world alongside the other Sacred Beasts. Records even speak of a hierarchy among them, and dragons almost always occupy the highest rung. Among all mythical beasts, they are said to carry sothing close to royalty.”

He glanced briefly at Venam.

“Fate itself is believed to favor them. So when the system announced that the victor might inherit the legacy of such a being… well. You can imagine what happened.”

The illusion darkened as cities, sect banners, and crowds ford within it.

“The harmony Vraal’Kor had built over thousands of years shattered almost overnight. Sects have always competed with one another. Rivalries were nothing new. Every sect wished to grow stronger and see their competitors fade away.”

His tone hardened slightly.

“But openly acting on those ambitions had always been avoided. The balance between sects was fragile, but it existed. It was a bond forged through shared suffering.”

He paused briefly.

“And that bond… cracked.”

The illusion shifted again, now showing five towering banners rising above the rest.

“The leading sects saw the danger imdiately. The Azure Skies Sect. The Bone Scythe Sect. The Mystic Winter Sect. The Spatial Spring Sect… and the Fla Claw Sect.”

Alexei noticed the smallest flicker pass through Venam’s expression when he spoke the last na. Recognition, perhaps.

But it wasn’t his place to ask.

“The five strongest sects in Vraal’Kor understood what would happen if everyone rushed toward the inheritance at once. Pride is common among sects, but the largest ones are often led by people with long vision.”

The illusion ford a massive circular arena rising from the northern plains.

“So they did sothing unexpected. Despite their rivalries, they ca together and proposed a solution.”

“A tournant.”

The arena expanded within the illusion, gigantic stands forming around it.

“Every sect across Vraal’Kor would compete. The trials would be held right before the entrance to the inheritance grounds. The victors would be chosen through combat and rit rather than chaos.”

He shook his head faintly.

“The arena itself was constructed in a matter of days. It was enormous, built to host hundreds of thousands of cultivators and spectators.”

“Of course,” he added, “not every sect approved of the arrangent. So argued that the inheritance should be open to whoever could claim it first.”

He gave a quiet shrug.

“But argunts lose their strength when they stand against the combined authority of the Big Five.”

The illusion showed the five banners casting long shadows across the arena.

“Any resistance was quietly suppressed. Whether through negotiation… or thods less visible to the public. That is the level of influence the Big Five held.”

Venam tilted her head slightly.

“What was it called?” she asked with curiosity. “The tournant ground, I an. Or the whole event?”

“I don’t believe anyone ever settled on a proper na for it,” Alexei replied after a mont. “Most people simply called it an Eligibility Test, if anything at all. The idea was that the major sects would filter out the cultivators who were truly worthy of entering the trial.”

He leaned slightly forward, watching the illusion shift once again above the table.

“The tournant lasted nearly a month. During that ti more and more sects arrived in the north. They sent their chosen representatives, each accompanied by a full entourage to support them. Word spread across all of Vraal’Kor. By the end of it, the entire region had gathered to witness the outco.”

The image ford a vast arena filled with banners and crowds.

“In the end, one hundred champions were selected from the various sects. I happened to be one of the… fortunate ones.”

His tone carried a trace of dry bitterness.

“Each champion was allowed to bring one hundred attendants with them. The journey north was treated less like a competition and more like an expedition. Most champions brought elite mbers of their sects to support them. Senior cultivators at red core, along with lower-ranked attendants to handle logistics.”

The illusion shifted again.

“So in total, ten thousand people entered the trial grounds.”

The scene changed to a towering pillar of light splitting the sky.

“It appeared as a massive beam of multicolored light that pierced the heavens and earth alike. The sight alone made it obvious that whatever had created it was sothing far beyond ordinary cultivation.”

Alexei’s voice softened slightly as he rembered the mont.

“Everyone was excited. Curious. Eager to see what kind of inheritance awaited us.”

He gave a small, humorless smile.

“The mont we stepped into the light… it swallowed us whole.”

The illusion brightened for a mont and then collapsed into darkness.

“And then it dropped us here.”

New images ford rapidly— snapshots pulled from Alexei’s mory.

“And that was when we received the actual challenge.”

He folded his arms.

“To summarize it simply, we were tasked with collecting six keys scattered throughout this land. The system inford us that ti flows differently inside the trial. A decade here might pass as only a month outside.”

He paused briefly.

“Unfortunately, our bodies age normally while we remain here.”

The illusion shifted again, now showing six faint lights scattered across a distorted map.

“The keys themselves are artefacts. The system provided almost no information about them. The instructions were intentionally vague. It wanted us to discover everything ourselves.”

His tone grew darker.

“That was when we slowly realized the truth.”

He gestured toward the shifting landscape within the illusion.

“We had willingly stepped into a violent ga of survival.”

The map expanded, revealing the surrounding regions.

“In truth, the environnt of this place has claid far more lives than the monsters ever did.”

He pointed toward the southern edge of the illusion.

“To the south lies the Black Fog Sea. Any creature that enters it without belonging there slowly falls into its stasis.”

His finger moved north.

“To the north stretches a forest that devours intruders by transforming them into part of its ecosystem. Those who wander too deep beco… flora.”

Then west.

“To the west lies an endless abyss. Sothing ancient and incomprehensible lurks within it, guarding whatever secrets lie below.”

Finally east.

“And to the east…”

The illusion flared with blazing light.

“A land of eternal fire. A divine pyre that burns without end. Anyone who approaches too closely is reduced to ash by the heat alone.”

Alexei’s voice remained steady, though a faint strain crept beneath it despite his effort to conceal it.

“This place was never ant to be a simple trial.”

“Not only that,” Alexei continued, “this place was not empty when we arrived. It already had its own inhabitants. Entire civilizations existed here long before we stepped into the trial. Primitive in many ways, yes, but no less dangerous because of it. And for reasons that beca painfully clear to us later, they were very much opposed to our little pilgrimage of collecting those six keys.”

The illusion shifted again, showing crude settlents, unfamiliar creatures, and warlike figures watching the arriving cultivators with open hostility.

“Our objective sounded deceptively simple when written on the system screen,” Alexei said dryly. “Retrieve the six keys and open the chamber of the final trial.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh.

“What a magnificent joke that turned out to be.”

His eyes searched Venam’s face for even the slightest trace of doubt or unease. After all, even a gold core cultivator would find it difficult to remain calm in a place like this. But he found nothing but unadultered curiosity.

The conditions for entry alone made no sense. It was less an invitation and more like signing a contract that guaranteed one’s death.

“But you did obtain so of the keys, didn’t you?” Venam asked imdiately. “Wait, before that— tell more about these keys—”

She never finished the sentence.

Alexei’s eyes suddenly widened as his Bio Sense scread in warning.

The ability was primarily ant for sensing life and movent, but it carried a passive instinctive edge as well, sothing like a premonition that flared when danger approached too quickly to analyze.

His head snapped toward the window.

Just in ti.

A massive flaming object hurtled toward the tower like a falling star. The heat alone scorched his eyebrows as it closed the final distance—

—and then it stopped.

A violet force enveloped the projectile midair.

For a single frozen mont the blazing mass hung suspended before being crushed into nothing, the flas collapsing inward as though seized by the invisible claws of so colossal beast. In the next instant it disintegrated into drifting ash.

Alexei slowly turned back.

Venam was still sitting exactly where she had been, elbow on the armrest, expression carrying the specific and deeply tired irritation of soone whose evening had just been ruined by sothing they had been quietly hoping would hold off a little longer.

"It couldn't," she said, her voice sweet with barely restrained fury, "fucking wait for five more minutes."

It was not directed at him. It had the quality of a grievance being aired to the universe, which had once again failed to et a very reasonable request.

Outside, dozens of identical projectiles were arcing down across the city in long burning trails, and below, what had been the noise of celebration was already curdling into sothing else entirely.