“...And that’s about it. Since you can’t contact me through Xaleth’s Spellbook anymore, it seems the only way we’re talking now is if I come back into the dreamscape.”
I paced back and forth across the grassland while explaining everything to Lotte, tail twitching behind me in agitation. At some point I realized I was circling around myself like an annoyed cat that had forgotten why it entered a room in the first place.
Lotte listened quietly the entire time. She was annoyingly good at that.
My eyes drifted again toward the metal sapling sitting at the edge of the dreamscape, and my mood immediately worsened. The thing was ruined.
Where there used to be flickering lights and moving symbols, now there was only a charred, smoking mess. Parts of the metallic bark had melted together entirely.
Yeah. The dragonfire definitely did something horrible to my body.
Apparently it also decided to set my already questionable connection to the system on fire for good measure.
Which raised a very important problem of how the hell was I supposed to evolve now?
I was almost certain I had already hit the level cap again. One evolution alone would probably push me above most things this trial could realistically throw at me.
Probably. Maybe. Hopefully?
I was done pretending certainty existed in my life anymore. Every time I thought I understood something, the world found a new and exciting way to slap me across the face for getting comfortable.
I forced myself to calm down and looked expectantly toward Lotte.
Please tell me there’s a solution.
Anything.
Because from what Dorrusk told me, Depth Dwellers were not the sort of creatures I wanted chasing me across the trial. Most apparently lived in isolation unless someone disturbed them first.
Then they became everyone else’s problem. And I had done more than to merely disturb them. I had killed the deity they worshipped. There was absolutely no way they were letting that go.
Sooner or later they would come after me. Probably violently. Possibly in groups.
While I trusted my own talents when it came to escaping horrible situations like the slippery little dragon I was, that did not mean I was stupid enough to feel safe. Gold cores were still terrifyingly dangerous to me. I had only fought two directly before.
One I survived through trickery.
The second one I bombarded from a safe distance using exploding quantum clones like a very responsible and highly intelligent combatant.
If that thing had possessed actual intelligence instead of acting like an angry ice disaster, I probably would not have gotten away with it.
And now I potentially had an entire species of angry worshippers hunting me, who had multiple Gold cores from what Nal-Dorrusk had told me.
I really needed to fix my bullshit system.
“So...” I finally said, flopping onto the grass. “What exactly am I supposed to do now? Because I feel very lost right now.”
The fatcat dragon chuckled inside my head.
“What do your instincts tell you, hatchling?”
I groaned loudly.
“Well...” I rolled onto my side. “To finish what I started, obviously.” I waved a claw vaguely. “The dragonfire started some kind of process while it was mutating my fire gland. Which probably means the process stopped halfway through.” I frowned. “My instincts keep telling me I need to mutate every organ in my body with divinity if I want to complete whatever this is supposed to become.”
I threw both claws upward in frustration.
“BUT THERE’S NO SYSTEM TO CONFIRM ANY OF THIS.” I glared toward the burnt sapling accusingly. “Am I genuinely supposed to trust vague feelings now?”
“Yes.”
I blinked.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“That explanation sucked.”
“It required no further elaboration.” Lotte sounded entirely unbothered. “I have told you repeatedly that the system functions more as an archivist than an authority. It records, organizes and labels. There are deeper things it cannot properly define because it lacks the framework to do so.”
Her gaze shifted toward the smoking metal sapling.
“Your connection to it was unstable from the beginning.”
...
Unfortunately, I understood what she meant.
Relying on the system had become habitual for me. Every evolution, every mutation, every improvement had been carefully explained and organized neatly for my convenience.
It made everything easier. A lot easier.
“So what?” I finally asked. “My connection is just broken now? Permanently?”
Lotte chuckled softly in my head. “I never said the connection was gone forever. Perhaps the system simply needs to recognize what you truly are first.”
What I truly was.
I was a dragon.
And dragons were creatures tied to divinity by nature. My situation had always been strange because I started without access to that part of myself. Something about my past, something still buried somewhere I hadn’t uncovered yet.
So if I understood Lotte correctly, she was basically confirming what my instincts had already been screaming at me. That I needed to finish the mutation process completely.
Every organ. Every part of me. All of it reshaped through divinity until I became what I was originally supposed to be.
Only then would the system properly categorize me again.
I narrowed my eyes at her.
She could have just said that directly instead of speaking like some ancient cryptic oracle that got paid by the riddle!
I flopped backward onto the grass with a grumble.
The trial grounds were beautiful in their own way, but they still couldn’t compare to the quiet calm of my dreamscape. Especially not with a mountain-sized dragon resting nearby. Lotte had settled herself against one of the massive stone outcroppings scattered across the plains, her gigantic head resting comfortably while a low melody rumbled through my thoughts.
It was soothing enough that I almost yawned.
Almost.
Unfortunately, I did not currently possess the luxury of resting peacefully while my life became increasingly complicated every few hours.
Part of me had mostly entered the dreamscape just to tell Lotte everything anyway. She liked hearing about what I was doing, and I liked talking to her too.
Now that the dragonfire had apparently cremated my poor system sapling, I no longer had direct communication through Xaleth’s Spellbook either.
Which reminded me.
I should have unlocked more spells by now.
The Spellbook granted one spell every five levels. I only had two spells back at level ten, which meant at level eighty I should theoretically have another fourteen waiting for me.
Fourteen.
That was ridiculous.
The problem was that I had absolutely no idea how to access any of them without the system helping me.
That was becoming a recurring problem lately.
With normal skills, I at least understood the sensation tied to using them. I could feel them instinctively now. Evolution and the Spellbook were different. I had only evolved a handful of times in my entire life, which apparently was not enough experience to develop proper instinct for it.
The same issue applied to Xaleth’s Spellbook.
I had only truly summoned it once.
Without the system acting as a bridge, I couldn’t recreate the process no matter how hard I tried.
Which was deeply frustrating.
Knowing I had potentially become much stronger while being completely unable to access any of the rewards made me want to bite something.
Preferably the system.
Eventually I explained my current plan to Lotte.
After learning that the Kovraths possessed access to divinity, and apparently maintained some kind of shrine capable of replenishing their bodies with it, I could no longer treat that information as coincidence.
Coincidences did not happen around me anymore.
So, I followed the thread.
My next destination would be the Kovraths’ territory somewhere within the Abyss domain. Which honestly made sense. Shadow dimension affinity, stealth, sneaky little cave-dwelling weirdos. The entire species practically screamed “we definitely live underground plotting nonsense.”
There was another problem occupying my thoughts too.
The Water Leviathan.
That thing bothered me in ways the Ice Leviathan never had. Partly because I was now fairly certain this one possessed actual intelligence.
The Ice Leviathan had been dangerous, but simple and predictable. Like wild disasters usually were.
The Water Leviathan felt calculated.
The way it moved, planned, manipulated others… none of that matched the behavior of some mindless beast.
Which meant it was genuinely threatening. Especially now that it had a new host.
Avena.
That alone was enough to make my stomach twist unpleasantly. I had absolutely no idea what that thing was planning now.
Most importantly, it either possessed the Verdant Key already or knew exactly where it was hidden.
The moment it fully settled into Avena’s body, recovering that key would probably become its first priority.
The thing that unsettled me most about the Water Leviathan was how little anyone actually knew about it. From everything I gathered, including what Markus and Dorrusk told me, it did not seem to possess a true physical body at all. It existed within the Dream Sea, or as Alice called it, the Sea of Collective Subconsciousness.
Dorrusk confirmed that nobody had ever truly seen the Water Leviathan manifest fully within physical reality.
That definitely did not make me feel better. Still, there were more immediate problems trying to ruin my life right now.
My current strategy remained simple. Surround the chaos before it surrounded me first. Because if I stayed still too long, horrible things inevitably started happening around me.
Experience had taught me that much.
Lotte listened patiently while I rambled through all my concerns, occasionally offering cryptic comments that sounded meaningful right up until I actually tried understanding them.
Eventually I gave up trying.
Well, I had stopped expecting direct answers from her a long time ago. I was a mature dragon now. Wise and very experienced. Completely capable of solving my own problems without needing constant guidance.
I nodded firmly to myself.
Very mature.
Possibly even more mature than the giant fatcat dragon lounging beside me.
Getting everything out of my system still felt nice though. Talking through things helped organize my thoughts a little.
Eventually I decided to summon Alice and Belle into the dreamscape.
Lotte pulled them in silently this time.
The experience clearly still affected them badly. Alice looked visibly shaken the moment she appeared while Belle, though shaken, immediately squee!d and launched herself straight into my waiting claws.
“I should have prepared myself better for that, Mistress,” Alice said while trying unsuccessfully to stop trembling.
Belle, meanwhile, buried herself against me happily.
I scratched behind her ears absentmindedly while guilt poked at me a little. I had barely spent any time with her lately. I couldn’t even remember the last time I sat down to drink tea with her properly.
She and Alice had been constantly busy carrying out the tasks I assigned them.
Which was admittedly useful because both of them were extremely good at gathering information.
Still, those damned tree-humping elves owed me compensation for monopolizing my precious badger and doll time. My thoughts drifted briefly toward Alder again.
I still had not turned the owlcat into a proper supplicant like Belle, which meant I could not pull him into the dreamscape yet. I probably could have forced the process earlier, but instinct kept telling me to wait until our bond deepened naturally first.
And apparently I was trusting my instincts now.
I asked Alice how Alder had been doing in my absence.
The answer made my ears droop slightly.
“He has been eating less,” Alice admitted carefully. “And sleeping poorly. It appears your absence distressed him somewhat.”
...
That was concerningly adorable.
“Taking him to the Colosseum helped at first,” Alice continued, “but that no longer works either since he still cannot see you there.”
I blinked.
“Wait.” I sat upright immediately. “What do you mean he can’t see me there?”
Alice froze for a second before realizing she apparently forgot to mention something important.
Then she hurried into an explanation.
“The Colosseum functioned normally during the first phase, Mistress. Spectators could observe the participants clearly. The projections were stable and...” she paused, “rather theatrical.”
That sounded about right honestly.
“But once the second phase began,” she continued, “something malfunctioned.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“How badly?”
“The projections no longer display the participants consistently. Sometimes viewers only see darkness. Sometimes random scenery. Forests. Strange creatures hunting prey. Massive fires. Empty skies.” She paused. “At times it becomes nothing but static and noise.”
“The audience is confused,” Alice finished. “Nobody seems capable of explaining what happened.”
I stared at her for a moment.
Then I sighed deeply.
“So the entire thing is even more fucked than I thought.”
“Possibly someone interfered with the process and broke something important, Mistress,” Alice said thoughtfully. “Or perhaps it was intentional from the beginning. It may even be the Colosseum retaliating against whoever tampered with it.” She hesitated. “Or... it could simply be your presence again introducing variables nobody accounted for.”
That certainly sounded possible too.
At this point I was becoming increasingly convinced the universe itself developed stress headaches whenever I appeared somewhere.
“How much time has passed outside?”
“Only a few hours, Mistress. It is still the same night.”
I nodded slowly.
“So. Any progress on the elves?”
Alice shook her head. “Nothing concrete yet. Lysska has already started rounding up every elf she can get her hands on though. Having the Sablethorn Patriarch officially backing her has made things considerably easier.” She adjusted slightly before continuing. “She was summoned by Matriarch Snezana not long ago, which honestly makes sense given Lord Veyan’s connection to her. If anything, the situation is gradually stabilizing. I’m also still waiting on information from several seeds I planted earlier. Hopefully by our next meeting I’ll have something genuinely useful to bring you.”
I snorted softly.
Alice really needed to stop underestimating herself.
She was already absurdly useful.
Still, the lack of movement from the elves combined with the Colosseum malfunction gave me something important. Which was freedom!
If the projections were no longer properly displaying participants, then I no longer needed to constantly worry about hiding every little thing I did. Including my precious dragon form.
Part of me had been quietly stressing over how I was supposed to complete my mutations while remaining trapped in a humanoid shape. The process clearly required my full draconic body eventually.
I would have figured something out regardless.
Probably.
But now I could finally relax knowing the outside world likely could not observe me properly anymore.
The trial itself existed inside some strange isolated pocket of time and space already. If the viewers could no longer see participants clearly, then I could reveal my true form without immediately causing continental panic.
A massive weight lifted off my shoulders.
And truth be told maintaining a humanoid body for extended periods was exhausting.
I was tired of pretending.
Tired of cramped proportions. Tired of dull skin instead of scales. Tired of constantly squeezing myself into a shape that never quite felt natural anymore.
Soon I could finally stretch properly without worrying about witnesses. The thought alone improved my mood considerably.
I was just about to say my farewells when my nostrils suddenly flared.
Fresh tea.
I immediately turned my head toward the source and found Belle approaching proudly with a serving tray balanced carefully in her paws.
Behind her sat a small tea arrangement that definitely had not existed earlier. A compact iron stove crackled quietly beside a polished kettle while ceramic jars of dried leaves sat neatly arranged beside strainers, cups, and a tiny wooden box of sweeteners.
Where the hell had she even gotten all that?
Belle offered no explanation whatsoever.
She squee’d and simply presented the tea proudly like this entire setup had manifested through sheer force of etiquette.
The smell alone nearly made me emotional.
This blend smelled especially good too, which explained why Belle looked so smug about it.
Then I glanced upward toward Lotte and froze briefly.
A gigantic teacup floated near her massive maw while the mountain-sized dragon sipped from it with complete dignity.
“Ah,” Lotte rumbled contentedly. “You certainly were not exaggerating. She is remarkably talented.”
I snorted and took my own cup.
Naturally, I drank it scalding hot.
That was part of the experience.
I still had absolutely no idea where Belle got an entire tea station inside my dreamscape, but I decided not to question it.
Some things simply existed beyond explanation.
Tea was apparently one of them.
For a while, all of us simply sat there quietly drinking tea together.
***
“Wait. How certain are you about this?”
“Far more certain than I’d like to be.” I crossed my arms and leaned back slightly. “The Water Leviathan definitely has a vassal now. If you people have any competent diviners, you should probably start tracking that girl immediately because I’m reasonably certain she’s heading for the Verdant Key.”
Markus groaned and rubbed at his temples.
“Just my damn luck,” he muttered.
We were currently inside what I assumed was his workspace. The room itself was plain to the point of looking unfinished except for the massive planning board dominating one wall. Maps, reports, threads, pinned notes, timelines, and marked locations covered it in organized chaos. Every inch of it looked meticulously maintained.
That honestly suited what I knew of Markus perfectly.
“And no,” he continued, “sending diviners after the Water Leviathan’s vassal would be a terrible idea.”
I tilted my head. “Anti-divination?”
“Worse.” Markus looked genuinely irritated now. “The Leviathan already accounts for divination when it plans. It knows how people like us operate. Every attempt to track it turns into false leads, traps, or carefully planted misinformation.” His expression darkened slightly. “We’ve already lost too many people trying to outplay it.”
Yeah.
That sounded bad.
“So what now?”
“Right now,” Markus said, “the Leviathan is not our most immediate problem. The Depth Dwellers are.”
Ah.
Right.
The fanatical worshippers whose deity I personally murdered.
“If we don’t prepare properly for them,” Markus continued calmly, “we’ll all die long before any future threats become relevant.”
That was unfortunately reasonable. Then Markus lifted his arm slightly.
The Ice Key curled around it like a living silver bracelet, the tiny leviathan-shaped construct moving lazily across his wrist.
“We also need to relocate this,” he said. “Keeping the key here is asking for disaster. If the Depth Dwellers are truly mobilizing, they’ll likely have methods to detect it.” He glanced toward the key distastefully. “And considering it was acquired by killing their deity, holding onto the thing openly seems like an exceptionally bad decision.”
I thought about that for a moment.
“Hiding it sounds just as dangerous,” I replied eventually. “Especially with the Water Leviathan involved. From everything you’ve told me, that thing probably expects you to try something like that already.” I flicked my ears. “And if it expects it, then it can exploit it.”
Markus didn’t immediately disagree. That alone said enough.
I went quiet for a few seconds after that. Earlier, Markus had offered me the key directly. At the time I wasn’t entirely sure why, but now I suspected this was part of the reasoning.
And the more I thought about it, the more I agreed.
The safest place for the Ice Key was probably with me.
Not only because I was already heading toward the Kovraths anyway, but because I could actually use the thing properly.
Well. Potentially.
The mana cost behind its abilities was absurd, but compared to Alexei or even Markus, my reserves were monstrous. Combined with my regeneration, I felt like I could actually push the key far beyond what they had managed so far.
The downside, of course, was obvious, as taking the key meant painting an even brighter target on my back.
Though realistically, if the Depth Dwellers somehow already knew who killed their deity, then I was already doomed on that front anyway.
And experience had repeatedly taught me that the worst possible coincidence usually became reality eventually.
So I made my decision.
“I’ll take it.”
Markus looked at me carefully but didn’t argue.
Still, I wanted to know exactly what I was dealing with first.
I had already seen some of the Ice Key’s abilities in action, and even the limited usage Alexei displayed had been terrifyingly strong. Which made me curious about its actual potential.
Normally I would have simply checked the system description myself. Unfortunately my system was currently busy being spiritually dead.
So instead I asked Markus to check it for me and write everything down.
He didn’t question why. A few minutes later he handed me a page.
I started reading and my eyes widened.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Alexei had not even been scratching the surface of this thing. What in the ever-living hells was this absurd monstrosity of a power?