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Chapter 38
The Dragon's Judgment
The battlefield fell into a silence so complete it felt unnatural — almost sacred.
The endless waves of black-scaled beasts simply ceased their assault. No final roar. No desperate lunge. The living darkness that had birthed them for what felt like an eternity grew deathly still, as though the trial itself had paused to draw one last, trembling breath before delivering its true verdict.
Alex stood alone at the heart of the slaughter, chest heaving in violent, ragged gasps. Every inhale scorched his lungs like molten iron. His sword, slick with blood and heavier than it had any right to be, trembled in his white-knuckled grip.
Pain radiated from every inch of his body — deep gashes across his arms and shoulders wept bright red, mingling with the thick, tar-like black blood of his fallen enemies that now turned the cracked earth into a slick, stinking mire.
The once-endless plain had become a true graveyard. Dozens upon dozens of broken corpses lay twisted and piled around him, their lifeless crimson eyes staring blankly into the stormy red sky. The air reeked of iron, sweat, and death.
Yet Alex refused to lower his blade even an inch.
His gaze burned into the wall of shadow ahead, unblinking, unrelenting.
"…That can't be the end," he rasped, voice hoarse and cracked from hours of shouting and fighting through agony. "This trial… it's not done with me yet."
He was right.
A deep, primordial rumble rolled across the shattered landscape like thunder trapped beneath the earth. The ground shuddered violently beneath his boots. The corpses around him began to twitch and vibrate, as if something colossal stirred in the depths below.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the battlefield.
Then the darkness tore open.
It stepped forward.
Alex's eyes narrowed to slits, adrenaline surging through his exhausted veins like a final defiant spark.
The creature that emerged dwarfed everything that had come before it — a towering five-meter nightmare born from the fusion of wolf and dragon.
Obsidian scales armored its massive shoulders and spine, gleaming wetly under the flickering red lightning. Its limbs ended in claws the size of curved scimitars, each one capable of shredding a man in half with a single swipe.
Two enormous curved horns crowned its skull, and its burning crimson eyes glowed with terrifying, ancient intelligence — not the mindless hunger of the lesser beasts, but something calculating.
Something that judged.
The monster opened its maw.
Rows of jagged, sword-length teeth gleamed as a low, earth-shaking growl rolled from its throat. The sound alone vibrated through Alex's bones, making the ground tremble beneath him.
He exhaled slowly, forcing calm into his racing heart despite the fire screaming in every muscle.
"…So this is the final exam of Conviction."
No more words.
The beast lunged.
Its speed was monstrous.
Alex barely twisted aside in time. The claws ripped through the earth where he had stood, exploding mud and shattered stone skyward in a violent geyser.
He rolled desperately across the battlefield, every movement sending fresh spikes of pain through his battered ribs and torn shoulders. Forcing himself upright on shaking legs, he raised his sword again, stance unbroken despite the exhaustion clawing at him.
"Come on then," he whispered, voice thick with defiance and raw determination. "Let's finish this."
The creature roared — a sound that shook the illusion realm to its core — and charged once more.
Steel met scale in a blinding shower of sparks.
Alex poured everything he had left into the strike. The Iron Heart Blade Technique flowed through his exhausted limbs like muscle memory forged in hell itself.
His blade slammed into the monster's armored shoulder with a deafening clang, but the edge barely bit through the reinforced scales, drawing only a thin line of black blood.
"…Tough bastard," Alex growled through gritted teeth, eyes widening at the creature's unnatural durability.
The beast retaliated instantly.
Its massive tail whipped across the battlefield like a living siege engine.
Alex tried to block —
CRASH!
The impact launched him backward through the air. He tumbled end over end across the blood-soaked mud before slamming hard into a cracked stone pillar.
Agony exploded through his ribs and spine.
For one terrifying heartbeat, his vision went white.
Copper flooded his mouth as he coughed up blood.
The monster advanced slowly, each thunderous step sending tremors through the ground. Its intelligent eyes watched him with predatory patience, as if savoring the sight of a broken opponent.
Alex coughed again, spitting blood onto the mud, and pushed himself upright on trembling legs.
Fire still burned in his eyes — not desperation, but pure, unyielding will.
"…Not finished yet," he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of a bloodied hand.
Memories flashed through his mind in that moment: the burning village he had saved, the families who now looked to him for hope, the mysterious voice that had tried to have him killed.
He would not fall here.
Not when so much still rested on his shoulders.
The creature roared and charged again.
This time Alex did not retreat.
He stepped forward to meet it head-on.
Step.
Turn.
Strike.
The Iron Heart Blade Technique surged through him like a final, desperate symphony.
His sword flashed upward in a perfect, glowing arc, finally shearing through the tougher scales along the beast's leg.
Black blood sprayed hot across his face and chest.
The monster howled in rage and pain, attacking with renewed savagery — claws slashing in wide arcs, fangs snapping shut with bone-crushing force, tail whipping in deadly, unpredictable patterns.
Alex danced on the razor's edge of death.
He dodged desperately, countering whenever the smallest opening appeared.
Every movement cost him dearly.
His breathing turned ragged and shallow.
His vision flickered at the edges.
Sweat and blood stung his eyes, blurring the world into streaks of red and shadow.
Just one chance…
The beast lunged for the killing blow, claws aimed straight for his chest.
Alex waited until the last possible heartbeat — then stepped inside the attack.
The claws whistled past him by mere inches, close enough to tear the fabric of his sleeve.
With a roar that tore straight from the depths of his soul — a roar born of every loss, every sacrifice, every unbreakable promise he had made —
Alex drove his sword forward with everything he had left.
Every drop of mana.
Every memory of pain.
Every ounce of conviction that refused to die.
The blade sank deep into the monster's chest, piercing straight through its heart with a sickening crunch.
Time seemed to freeze.
The creature let out one final, earth-shaking roar that echoed across the illusion like the death cry of a god.
Then its massive body collapsed forward, crashing to the ground with a thunderous boom that sent shockwaves rippling outward.
The battlefield itself trembled in the aftermath.
Silence swallowed everything once more.
Alex staggered backward.
His legs finally betrayed him.
He dropped hard to one knee.
His sword slipped from his blood-slick fingers and clattered uselessly beside him in the mud.
"…Did I pass?" he whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heart.
For several long, agonizing seconds, nothing happened.
Then the battlefield began to dissolve.
The stormy red sky fractured like fragile glass.
The blood-soaked ground cracked and faded into nothingness.
The illusion shattered into a thousand shimmering fragments that dissolved into golden motes of light.
Alex found himself standing once again in the ancient underground chamber before the colossal dragon gate.
The air felt charged now — lighter, warmer, alive with primordial power that hummed against his skin.
A deep, resonant voice echoed through the vast space.
The same ancient voice as before, but this time it carried a warmth that felt like sunlight piercing through endless storm clouds.
"Conviction… acknowledged."
The air trembled.
A faint golden radiance bloomed in front of Alex, growing brighter and more majestic with every heartbeat.
Slowly, the ethereal outline of an enormous dragon's head materialized within the light — not a full body, but a presence so vast and ancient it made the mountain itself feel small.
Ancient, piercing eyes opened and locked onto him, staring straight into the core of his soul as if weighing every choice, every moment of suffering, every refusal to surrender.
For one long heartbeat, Alex felt completely exposed — every hidden fear, every buried doubt, every quiet terror he had carried since waking in this world laid bare before this timeless being.
Then the dragon spoke, its voice gentle yet immense, echoing with the weight of centuries.
"You fought beyond the limits of mortal flesh.
You refused to surrender even when defeat seemed inevitable.
You rose again and again, not for glory, not for power… but because your will would accept nothing less.
That… is true conviction."
The glowing eyes softened with quiet, profound approval.
"You are acknowledged."
The golden light surged forward like a living river of warmth and power, pouring into Alex's body. Healing energy flooded his veins, knitting wounds closed, soothing torn muscles, and washing away the bone-deep exhaustion.
Strength returned to him — sharper, purer, infused with something ancient and draconic that settled deep in his core like a second heartbeat.
Alex rose slowly to his feet, flexing his hands in quiet wonder.
The pain was gone.
The weariness had lifted.
Yet the memory of what he had endured remained, burning like a brand in his soul.
"So that was the first trial…" he murmured, voice steadier now.
The dragon's voice spoke once more, now tinged with solemn warning that carried across the chamber like distant thunder.
"Second trial… begins now."
The chamber vanished in an instant.
Pure, suffocating darkness swallowed the world whole.
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Trial Two — Mind
When Alex opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the mountain.
He stood inside the opulent halls of the royal palace in the capital city.
But everything was wrong.
Servants sprinted through the marble corridors in blind panic, their faces pale and streaked with soot and tears. The acrid stench of smoke and burning wood choked the air, thick enough to sting his eyes.
Distant screams echoed from every direction — raw, terrified cries of people who knew they were about to die.
Alex frowned, a cold weight settling in his chest.
"…What is this?"
He rushed toward the towering windows overlooking the city.
The capital was in flames.
Grand buildings crumbled under siege. Soldiers in imperial armor fought desperately against overwhelming invading forces, their banners torn and soaked in blood.
The sky itself was stained black with ash and fire, as if the world were ending.
Heart pounding, Alex sprinted into the grand throne room —
and froze.
His father, the Emperor, lay dead on the cold marble floor, a spreading pool of crimson beneath him.
His mother knelt beside the body, sobbing brokenly, her once-elegant robes stained dark with blood and grief.
She looked up at Alex with hollow, accusatory eyes.
Alex's chest tightened painfully.
A wave of raw, crushing emotion slammed into him — grief, rage, helplessness so profound it nearly buckled his knees.
"This… isn't real," he whispered, voice shaking. "It can't be."
But the illusion refused to break.
It dug deeper.
The scene shifted violently.
Now he stood on a blood-soaked battlefield under a blood-red sky. Bodies of his closest friends lay scattered around him like discarded puppets.
Selena's lifeless form rested nearby, her eyes staring blankly at nothing, her hand still clutching the dagger she had used to protect him so many times.
Max slumped against a broken banner, blood still seeping slowly from a fatal wound across his chest.
Alex clenched his fists until his nails drew fresh blood from his palms.
His throat burned.
"…Stop this. Now."
Another vision crashed over him without mercy.
The entire empire lay in ruins.
Cities reduced to smoldering wreckage.
Mountains of corpses stretched to the horizon — men, women, children who had once believed in the future he promised them.
A cold, whispering voice slithered into his mind, heavy with malice and cruel certainty.
"You will fail.
You cannot save them.
Everyone you care about will die because of you.
Because you stole a destiny that was never yours."
Alex closed his eyes for a long moment, forcing his breathing to remain steady even as the pain felt suffocatingly real.
Every loss cut like a fresh blade twisting in his heart.
But he didn't scream.
He didn't break.
He simply endured.
"I know what this is," he said quietly, voice calm and resolute despite the storm raging inside him. "You're trying to shatter my mind with fear and guilt. With everything I've fought to protect."
The voice whispered again, colder and more intimate now, echoing from every shadow.
"You cannot stop destiny."
Alex slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze was steady, filled with unyielding determination that refused to bend.
"…Then I'll rewrite destiny myself. Piece by bloody piece if I have to."
The illusions trembled violently.
The world around him began to crack, fractures spreading like spiderwebs across reality itself.
But before the trial could fully collapse —
One final vision materialized, darker and more personal than all the rest.
Alex froze completely, breath catching in his throat.
Standing before him was his sister — Aurelia.
The young woman who, in the original game, had been the one meant to claim the dragon legacy. The true chosen heir. The one whose fate he had unknowingly stolen when he took this body and rewrote the story.
She stared directly at him, her eyes filled with quiet, heartbroken accusation.
No rage.
Just profound sorrow and betrayal.
And she spoke a single, devastating sentence that cut deeper than any blade the trial had thrown at him.
"You stole my destiny."
The entire illusion world shattered with a deafening, soul-rending crack.
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End of Chapter 38
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