by L. M. Kerr
Of all the species that had been forced to compete in this horrific death game, only the humanoid Dragonkin had any natural relations to Dragons. Apart from that, every other species would interact with them only when they couldn’t avoid it. Only humanoid species were competing in the battle of the 7 Layers, despite there being many intelligent non-humanoid species in existence.
The Toren Tribe that Yvvtal was part of had some history with various breeds of Dragons.
At the time that the Torens lived on the Ancient World, they weren’t considered a full ‘Tribe’ in the Tribes of Deities. That title was an earned one based around some very specific and complex requirements, explaining why each Tribe looked so very different.
Back thousands of years ago, the Ancient World was dominated by three species, back when the Byrens were a quiet, unimportant breed.
The Torens, a species that came to the Ancient World because of its heavier restrictions and the benefits to those restrictions when it came to physical training.
The Dark Wraiths, a ghostly natural species that came about from the mystical energy that serenaded the Ancient World. They were very powerful but small in number and, despite their ominous name, mostly herbivorous.
And finally, the last of the three species…
The Blue Drakes.
Blue Drakes were a sub-species of the Draconic Race, one that didn’t hold the true power of a full-blooded Dragon.
Despite that, however, each and every Blue Drake was a leviathan of extreme might here on the Second. Just through their own natural growth, every Blue Drake would reach the Sky Tier of Ki Cultivation naturally, without putting forth any effort at all. This, combined with their 4-meters-tall and 13-meters-long body, turned them into overwhelming killing machines.
Tough azure scales that easily blocked all kinds of weapons, deadly claws that could shear through most metals, razor-sharp teeth that cut through flesh like it was butter…
They couldn’t breathe out any type of magical flame or energy attack, but just based on the power of their body and natural growth, Blue Drakes were the true rulers of the Ancient World. The only real thing limiting them was their minute numbers. At their prime, there were less than 100 Blue Drakes in existence.
The history of the Blue Drakes, the Dark Wraiths, and the Torens was a fractured, unclear one. Micheal knew from history that the three races battled very often, instigated over territorial disputes, colonization attempts, border conflicts, and a whole host of issues.
None of these races were ‘evil,’ but rather, had their own complex political ecosystems divided along various lines.
What Micheal did know was that, at some point in time, only the Torens were left, of the three dominant species. History never determined what exactly went down, beyond a few vague hints. Micheal had looked into this quite a bit back in his past life, one of the few times he did his own research and theorizing.
But from what Micheal did know… Yvvtal the Destroyer would have been alive at the time where Blue Drakes still existed. And Yvvtal, as a man obsessed with growing more powerful, would have inadvertently clashed with a Blue Drake before.
And he would have lost.
Because, here on the Second when he was alive, the Torens had yet to step into their full strength that would launch them up to the prestigious title of ‘Deity.’ And Blue Drakes might only be a sub-species of a Dragon… but they were still part Dragon. It was a qualitative and quantitative difference in strength.
For Yvvtal who had yet to even fully grasp the Master Tier of Sword Mastery, attempting to defeat a Blue Drake on his own was an exercise in futility.
The demise of the Blue Drakes on the Ancient World was a mystery, but it wasn’t one that could’ve been resolved through ordinary means. Perhaps only in the Twelve Tombs, the sole surviving Blue Drake Inheritance, could it truly be unveiled.
The Instructor looked at Micheal with wide eyes. For a brief second, the man’s face went slack and a dazed look flashed within his gaze.
A microsecond later, that look vanished as if it had never been, everything returning back to a semblance of normalcy as the Instructor looked down at Micheal with a warm smile.
“Ah, how absolutely beyond the norm… Can you describe that in more detail? The more we can determine about your Physique, the higher your placement.” The man’s tone had shifted, ever so slightly. His voice sounded practically identical to how it had before. However, his way of speaking, the casual tilt of his head, the relaxed manner he’d adopted…
All of these were rather minor details that one wouldn’t normally notice changing, not when it was in someone that was a stranger. Micheal, however, noticed each and every one, not a single thing escaping his steady gaze.
‘Oh man.’ His heart rate bumped up ever so slightly as he realized something.
He was talking to Yvvtal, right here, right now.
The remnants of the Fallen Deity’s Soul controlled this Inheritance intimately, letting him jump to anywhere within it in an instant.
Micheal’s original plan was to first gain Yvvtal’s attention and slowly convince the Deity he was a perfect choice. However, he hadn’t fully realized how big a draw the information he’d offered would be to the Fallen Deity.
Anyone that had the power to kill a Dragon on their own… to Yvvtal, this was likely one of his ultimate goals. The fact that Micheal’s words were ‘true’ in a sense meant that only two options were left.
Either he was insane or he actually possessed the memories and powers of a being that had killed a Dragon. Either way, this was something Yvvtal attended to immediately, dropping any and everything else he might have been doing.
As it clicked in Micheal’s head how important this was to Yvvtal, he slightly adjusted his plans to account for that.
“Yes, of course, Instructor!” Micheal replied slowly. His voice was calm and didn’t betray even a hint of nervousness, as if he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was now talking to Yvvtal the Destroyer. He cupped his fists and bowed slightly as he spoke, following the cultural norms for a Toren. He always found it interesting how these ancient martial societies had so many cultural similarities that seemed to transcend species and worlds.
He shook the stray thought from his mind as he continued,
“It all started several months ago…” Micheal began to narrate a vague, but essentially accurate story of how he returned to the past, answering Yvvtal’s questions as they arrived. He also purposefully went by the name Legion, a name he truthfully considered one of his own.
Just a few months ago, he had been a regular, 18-year-old human, albeit one in the middle of apocalyptic disappearances that were sweeping over the world, month by month.
The arrival of the Shop, of his memories and the resurgence of his powers, and the gradual rise to strength as his journey began all unfolded from his lips. He kept plenty of things secret or said them in vague enough terms to hide what needed to be hidden, but he never directly lied.
As such, a completely true tale of someone whose body gained great power over a very short period of time unfolded.
If one looked at his life in a vacuum, there was really only a single conclusion that could be drawn when all of the facts were added up.
His body had undergone an ‘Awakening’ of some sort and gained powers beyond the extraordinary, powers that took regular beings an enormous amount of effort and time to gain, in mere weeks. There was no other realistic explanation that any reasonable person would draw.
He was the very picture of a ‘Blessed Child,’ someone gifted with supernatural abilities far beyond the norm.
The exact image of what Yvvtal was seeking.
“What an incredible tale and journey you’ve been through, young warrior. Now that I’ve heard this, I can, indeed, sense something special about your Soul.” Yvvtal’s voice took on a musing one as he looked at Micheal, ancient eyes filled with the calmness of a steady sea, sizing him up as Micheal stood under the glow
ing Physique Gauging Stone.
Micheal’s body twitched unwillingly as Yvvtal’s gaze swept over him. It was a literally unwilling twitch, a result of some type of electrical energy sweeping through him. It wasn’t harmful, but likely intended to zero in on his powers in more detail.
“Hmm…” Yvvtal rubbed his chin, a small frown appearing on the Toren face he now possessed. He gave off a sense of being in deep thought.
Micheal assumed the man had discovered how physically weak Micheal was in comparison to everyone else present.
Despite several of these Torens being the same age, Micheal knew he was at least three to five times weaker in terms of physical strength. That was a racial gap that he couldn’t overcome yet, not without a great deal of effort and Physique modification.
A few moments passed as Micheal waited there patiently.
Finally, Yvvtal spoke up,
“I can see the potential you have, young warrior. However, if you want to continue to the Ranking Tournament, you will have to face a certain level of danger.” Yvvtal kept up the act of the dreamworld, nodding patiently at Micheal.
“With your special Physique, you might be able to do well, but your physical power is well below par.” He shook his head,
“It might be best if you take on a few challenges and then retire.”
Micheal’s eyes widened ever so slightly as his opinion of Yvvtal went up a notch.
The man wasn’t only a prolific murderer, he was also as sly as the devil.
Yvvtal didn’t give off even a single hint of his horrific true nature. Their entire conversation thus far had been completely genial. There was no evil glint in his eyes or diabolical smirk on his face. Instead, he seemed almost earnest and thoughtful, as if he genuinely cared.
If Micheal hadn’t known the full history of what happened here, these past few seconds where he formed his first impression might have even convinced him that the Fallen Deity wasn’t that bad.
“I would like to compete anyway, Instructor.” Micheal bowed his head again as he went on,
“I am confident in my current strength, even compared to those with more powerful bodies.” His voice brimmed with confidence, staying true to his words.
Yvvtal looked at Micheal for a second, a conflicted look appearing in his eyes. He gave off the image of a man struggling with a tough decision before he sighed and nodded his head,
“Very well, Legion. Prove to me your passion and strength. Show me the full extent of your newly awakened Physique.” The Fallen Deity smiled warmly as he reached out and patted Micheal on the shoulder.
“I’m sure you will have no problems entering into the Sect.” The Instructor’s attitude abruptly shifted once more. All of the subtle mannerisms of Yvvtal disappeared in a flash as the Toren returned back to his original state.
“Congratulations, disciple! You have what it takes to pass the first test. Please wait over there with the other disciples.” The Instructor spoke without missing a beat, as if he hadn’t skipped anything despite having his personality temporarily taken over by Yvvtal.
Upon second thought, Micheal realized this wasn’t abnormal. This entire world was a magical construct and these Torens were all ‘NPCs’ or perhaps artificial constructs, not actual living beings. They had probably been specifically created in a way to allow for Yvvtal’s manipulations without error.
“Yes, Instructor!” Micheal nodded stiffly and began to walk past the Instructor, heading towards the other Torens. As he walked, he mentally sighed.
He had failed.
If he had gained enough of Yvvtal’s interest, he wouldn’t be headed to the second part of this test, the ‘Ranking Tournament.’ Instead, he’d have been personally ‘taken in’ as a disciple by the Instructor, and made to go through a series of other tests, including answering many more detailed questions that would dive into his personality.
‘Perhaps my body really looked too weak.’ He couldn’t help the racial disadvantages humans had to bear.
Still, this was about what he had expected.
The Byren that had caught Yvvtal’s eye had a very abnormal, mutated Physique, one that allowed him to project his Soul outside of his body in a way that let him keenly sense the energy of reality around him. It worked in such a manner that vastly boosted his ability to comprehend different concepts, and the energies around those concepts, something that heavily drew Yvvtal’s interest.
Micheal’s story was a great one, but his body didn’t have anything overtly unique except for his somewhat strong Soul. Without actual proof of his powers, even if he believed he was speaking the truth, it wouldn’t be enough for Yvvtal.
Micheal took a deep breath as he looked at the various Torens that were standing and waiting. Each and every one gave off a feeling of solid power and natural grace, a sense that they were beings born to be worshipped and to rule. Humanoids destined to become Divine.
“Attention, disciples! The Ranking Tournament will officially begin in a few more moments. Please take this time to ready yourselves!” The four Instructors had finished going through all of the other disciples and returned back over to the waiting groups. The speaker was the heftier Toren, and the original speaker that had greeted the group. None of them had named themselves, forcing Micheal to label them by their body shape.
He’d talked the talk to Yvvtal as best he could.
Now it was time to walk the walk.
‘I can see a bit more than 200 Torens here, all of varying strength…’ He accurately counted out the total number of disciples-to-be that were present as everyone began to move away from this courtyard into another connecting one.
At the center of the neighboring courtyard, Micheal could see a large stone stage that had been set up in a rough square, stretching more than 30 meters across and far.
The group of Toren disciples was a motley collection, some that were only average in strength while there were a few that were overwhelmingly strong. He even recognized the ‘strongest’ disciple present, one that was recorded by those that had taken this challenge in his past.
A lean Toren that had completely shaved his head and wore a brown robe, white leather gloves, and thin, black sandals. The Ascetic Morkel, the elite final enemy that everyone that had taken this challenge had failed to overcome.
‘If I can’t get his attention through normal means, we will go with something a little more extreme.’
In the background, the Instructors explained how the Ranking Tournament worked. This was, ostensibly, to determine who the strongest among this lot of new disciples were, to help organize everyone into the correct classes and instructors they would need to follow to grow stronger.
The tournament would start off by allowing anyone to go up and challenge other Torens to battle. After each fight, the participants would be treated for any injuries and magically restored to full health. The results of each battle would be recorded and marked down, adding up to a tally for each individual.
This tournament was a staple of each new batch of disciples, a tradition that held true even for Byrens in the modern era. It was an introduction into the sect, a competition to encourage rivalries between disciples, as well as a test of bravery and decisiveness.
The Instructors finally finished their explanation after a couple of minutes of going over basic rules, like how one could fight to their heart’s content and that the Instructors would prevent any deaths from occurring.
The instant they finished talking, and the first moment they declared the Ranking Tournament had begun, Micheal sprinted and threw himself onto the main stone stage, drawing the eyes of everyone present.
“I would like to announce my first challenge, Instructors.”
The group of four older Torens seemed slightly taken aback, something Micheal noted with mild amusement. It wasn’t an unexpected look.
After all, Micheal had just flipped the entire script of how this was supposed to go down.
In all of the recordings of the King’s Challe
nge, the people taking it had waited and were swiftly challenged right as the Ranking Tournament began. At first, weaker Torens challenged them, but as time went on, stronger and stronger ones came up to fight. This was the progressive difficulty curve, one that was used to gauge what reward the challengees should receive, if any.
“Very well, disciple. Take your choice of anyone here and remember: Cowardice is a crime worthy of death! Fight with all of your heart!” The hefty Toren’s voice boomed out loud as he went with Micheal’s plan, nodding at him gravely.
Micheal was the ‘Main Character’ of this dreamworld. It was only natural for things to follow the route he picked, even if it was an unorthodox one. As long as the challenges still proceeded, everything would still work out.
Micheal turned his gaze away from the Instructors to scan the crowd of Torens, his gaze piercing. After a few moments, his eyes returned to focus back in on the bulky leading Instructor.
“I have found my target, Instructor!” He cupped his hands together.
The Instructor nodded and waved for him to continue,
“Of those present, I, Legion, hereby challenge…” Micheal raised his right hand and then smiled slightly,
“Everyone.”
.
Chapter 15
The sun beat down on Micheal’s forehead, a sheen of sweat coating it as he looked out at the arena around him. The air was surprisingly warm, considering how high they were up on a mountain. His gaze was calm and steady, not betraying even a hint of nervousness.
That fact, alone, was bound to impress given that he was currently surrounded by over 200 superhuman warriors, of which even the weakest had a more powerful body than he did.
After Micheal challenged literally every other disciple, a small hubbub had broken out. Several of the new disciples had thrown a flurry of insults at Micheal, while still others had angrily approached him, fists balled up and ready to throw. It had been a scene on the verge of chaos, just moments from a violent outbreak.
Before things got too out of hand, however, the Instructors forcibly settled things down.
