Chapter 120 : Chapter 120

Chapter 120. The Transformation into a Dragon

"The sun has set."

Elant watched as the sun sank behind the mountains for the seventh time. The entire forest had fallen into darkness, with only the torch in his hand providing the faintest light.

He remained still, not moving for a long time.

He knew that it was unlikely that more Spirit Realm Travelers would ascend through this trial. His hopes of gaining a powerful dragon’s ability had truly evaporated.

"It’s over," Elant sighed deeply. His other hand dropped lifelessly by his side, loosely forming a fist, as he struggled to regain his composure.

This was already the seventh day. According to the trial's information, when the sun rose tomorrow, Monsa City would be destroyed.

And that no longer concerned him. He and the other Spirit Realm Travelers hadn’t found any trace of the High Priest, not even the slightest hint.

For four days, they had searched tirelessly through the forest, but found nothing.

He understood now that all their efforts were in vain.

He was the last one standing. On the sixth day, some had chosen to commit suicide and quit the trial.

By this afternoon, nearly everyone had withdrawn.

Everyone knew that they had to find the High Priest before he transformed into a dragon.

Otherwise, after the transformation, his battle power would be enough to destroy all of Monsa City—something they could never withstand.

Even before the transformation, the combined strength of all of them probably wouldn’t be enough to defeat the High Priest.

Elant decided not to waste any more time. Facing a dragon, he had no intention of engaging in direct combat.

Being burned alive by dragon flames was not a "contribution" towards stopping the disaster.

He gripped the small knife at his waist and positioned it against his neck.

This was a lesson every Spirit Realm Traveler had to learn: how to die quickly.

When you find yourself stuck in a hopeless situation in the Spirit Realm, you’ll realize that suicide is often the best, most efficient way to exit.

After all, not all trial areas are reasonable. Some trials have ridiculously high difficulty with very little reward. In those cases, there’s no point in wasting time.

Just as Elant prepared to end this trial swiftly, the ground suddenly shook, halting his actions.

He stopped and silently felt the direction of the tremor.

He could sense that the ground in one area was being torn open, accompanied by the sound of explosions and the crash of hard objects.

Suddenly, all the noise was overshadowed by a familiar sound that echoed through the entire forest.

It was the roar of a dragon, a sound Elant had heard countless times from his father.

The ground was swept by an invisible shockwave, which was already weak by the time it reached Elant. It merely snapped a few slender branches, which fell to the ground.

Elant noticed the flame of his torch brightened considerably. He looked up and saw a massive shadow soaring through the air.

It blocked almost half of the moon, and Elant could just make out the dragon scales emerging along the edges of the shadow.

The dragon suddenly launched an attack, its head descending. A small area of its body glowed a dark red, and this red glow slid from its chest down its long neck, reaching its head.

"Boom!" The explosion sounded, and by the time Elant regained his bearings, he found himself surrounded by flames.

The deafening roar filled his ears, and his vision was only able to make out the grotesque figure of the dragon in the sky.

---

The High Priest—no, now it could only be called the dragon—had completely consumed the memories and personality of the High Priest.

It recalled a name from long ago, a name that belonged to the dragon’s corpse, which the High Priest and the gods had worked together to refine.

Its name was Quentin. Quentin had died before entering this dream, and it was by accident that its corpse had stumbled into this dream.

Though it had been turned into a puddle of dragon’s blood by the High Priest, it was supposed to have no consciousness.

But somehow, the High Priest, using some secret method, managed to awaken its consciousness and ask how to truly become a dragon.

Quentin generously shared the method with him, even kindly warning that if the method was used, the resulting dragon might not be just one person but a new life with two consciousnesses—its own and the High Priest’s.

As a dragon, Quentin had no idea of any method that would preserve its consciousness during the transformation. This method was one it had learned from an unknown dragon many years ago.

Yet, upon hearing this warning, the High Priest hadn’t backed down. On the contrary, he had eagerly thanked Quentin for the advice.

At that moment, Quentin’s consciousness was puzzled—why hadn’t this human retreated after hearing the risks, instead becoming excited?

But now, after absorbing the High Priest’s consciousness, it understood everything.

The High Priest had long known this place was a dream. He had desperately wanted to escape to the Spirit Realm, but his god couldn’t give him the power he needed. He begged countless times, only to receive the cold response: "Stay here."

Once he learned how to become a dragon, he was overjoyed. Even if he lost his own consciousness, he was more than willing to sacrifice himself to escape this dream.

The High Priest had already taken small actions, using the method learned from Quentin’s consciousness to limit the god’s influence in this dream.

He had also kept it a secret from the other priests, preventing them from communicating with the gods and hindering his plans.

A few days ago, the High Priest had made his preparations. He captured High Priest Rune and used his body as the final material for the transformation.

And the god the High Priest had served was probably now ready to reconcile with him.

Quentin was now heading toward Monsa City to retrieve its dragon blood. Along the way, it would also refine the dragon blood from the residents, gaining more strength to break through the barriers of this dream.

"My god, this is the final gift you’ve given me. Thank you."

Quentin knew that the god had not been completely indifferent to its actions. This was simply a tacit agreement between them.

Once Quentin took back its dragon blood and left this dream, the entire dream would be reshaped, returning to the moment when the temple in Monsa City was first built.

But at that time, Monsa would no longer have divine water. They might have to rely on the powers granted by their gods to combat the monsters.

However, the faith in this region would remain unchanged, as that was the condition for the god’s concession.

The god was not without the power to punish Quentin’s actions. It was just that such punishment would bring no benefit, only extra losses.

If Quentin did this, it would actually cause the god less harm, which is why the god only warned Quentin without taking further action.

Quentin shuddered with excitement. Having inherited the High Priest’s memories, it now shared the same goal that the High Priest had long desired.

It flapped its wings and flew toward Monsa City. Now, it could not wait to see what the other regions of the Spirit Realm looked like.