Chapter 181

Chapter 181
## Chapter 181: The Confusion of Ainhassar, the Dragon of Light

Hudson gazed down at his own hands, his expression one of utter bewilderment.

‘How did I end up back here?’

There was no mistake; he was standing in the world of Pangeniar.

Yet, a mere heartbeat ago, his feet had been planted on Earth.

He had been deeply entrenched in the chaotic political maneuvering surrounding the British royal line of succession. Amidst those frantic days, a brilliant radiance had suddenly descended from the heavens, and the resonant voice of Randolph had filled his ears.

‘Randolph commanded me to present myself at the gateway of the Tower of the War God.’

Without a second thought, Hudson had logged into the interface of Pangeniar and charted a direct course for the Tower.

He hadn’t felt even a flicker of hesitation; to him, the call was as absolute as a decree from the heavens.

Hudson was familiar with stories of such occurrences.

‘This is a divine revelation. The sort of spiritual link granted only to the highest pontiffs or chosen saints who walk with the gods!’

Had Randolph finally ascended to the realm of true divinity?

Reflecting on the man’s meteoric rise, such a transformation seemed almost expected.

And if this truly was an oracle from a new god, then he, as the recipient of that voice, was surely the deity’s most favored disciple.

‘Lord Randolph places his ultimate reliance on me.’

His pulse quickened with excitement.

While he had always viewed himself as Randolph’s primary lieutenant, receiving this direct summons felt like a formal validation. It was the highest honor he could ever hope to attain.

“Ah…!”

A visible shudder ran through Hudson’s frame.

The weight of this realization sent a tidal wave of pride and devotion crashing over him. His sense of self-importance as Randolph’s right hand felt as though it could touch the stars.

‘I cannot waste time reveling in this. I must push myself further, sharpen my skills!’

Hudson forced himself to suppress the giddy exhilaration.

He recognized that his own growth had not kept pace with Randolph’s staggering advancement. If he wished to remain a relevant tool in the Lord’s arsenal, he could not allow himself to hit a plateau.

The sudden postponement of his nuptials with Serengeti had briefly left him adrift, but he now understood that every passing second was a resource to be exploited.

‘I shall seize the crown of Britain and simultaneously expand my dominion within Pangeniar.’

He would forge an empire across both realities that no power could challenge. Every moment was a step toward that ultimate objective.

“Auril.”

“…?”

Auril turned her hollow, distant gaze toward Hudson.

Her consciousness seemed trapped in a fog, unable to process the current reality.

However, Hudson knew she was one of the most potent assets in Randolph’s command. He couldn’t allow such a powerful weapon to sit idle and unresponsive.

“You, along with Isaac and Valte, have a mission to attend to.”

“And why should I follow your lead?”

Auril’s retort was sharp and biting.

As an elf, her deep-seated disdain for the human race remained unchanged.

Hudson simply gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Because doing so will serve the interests of Lord Randolph.”

“……”

A shadow of doubt flickered in Auril’s eyes.

Her loyalty belonged exclusively to Randolph, yet the concept of taking proactive steps to assist him was a novel one. She stared at Hudson, signaling for him to elaborate.

‘She looks at me as if I’m some sort of disgusting insect.’

Hudson stifled a bitter smirk.

To her, he was no better than a pest. Even the icy Isabella treated him with a baseline of human respect, but Auril wouldn’t even grant him that much dignity.

Clearing his throat to regain his composure, Hudson pushed forward.

“The ruined metropolis of Rundella. You are to go there and hold the city as a representative of Lord Randolph.”

“As his representative?”

“Correct. As the emissary of Pentarch Randolph.”

“Pentarch…? What does that mean?”

Auril tilted her head in confusion.

It was clear she hadn’t yet learned of Randolph’s elevation to the rank of Pentarch. She would find out soon enough.

‘Rundella is a strategic pillar.’

With its previous ruler dead, the city was a power vacuum.

He had assumed Randolph would seize it immediately, but the man was spread far too thin. While other players were currently distracted by various incursions—a lucky break for them—leaving Rundella vacant was an invitation for an enemy to claim it.

‘The players aren’t the only threat. The mortal realms are beginning to move.’

The recent mandate sent to Marquis Wyzer played heavily on his mind.

—Command: Conscript and organize a larger military force.

The King of Ballan had issued this decree to thirteen separate cities simultaneously. As a vassal of the Ballan Kingdom, Marquis Wyzer had no choice but to obey.

‘They are clearly intimidated by the rapid expansion of the Iron Kingdom.’

King Friedrich, the sovereign of the Iron Kingdom, had recently launched a series of aggressive, indiscriminate campaigns. For the neighboring Ballan Kingdom, this was a terrifying development.

The crux of the matter was that the ruins of Rundella sat precariously between the two powers.

‘Neither side will hesitate to occupy a city that lacks a master.’

They had to create the illusion of a strong presence. They needed to move before the Iron Kingdom’s reach extended too far.

‘King Friedrich… The Iron-Blooded Sovereign.’

Hudson doubted the King would launch a direct assault on Ballan just yet, but the atmosphere was volatile.

They needed to be ready. By stabilizing Rundella and reinforcing the Labyrinth City, they could navigate this storm. A city under the protection of a Pentarch and the White King was something even a man like Friedrich would hesitate to provoke.

Furthermore, such global instability was the perfect breeding ground for advancement. Success belonged to those who anticipated the shift.

Hudson had every intention of being the one to seize it.

‘Everything I do is for Lord Randolph.’

Hudson tightened his grip, his resolve absolute.

—

Ainhassar, the Dragon of Light, was brimming with self-assurance.

He was certain he could devise trials that would repay the insolence he had endured, leaving the challenger broken while he looked on in amusement.

—I shall present three challenges. Navigate them all, and you will find yourself on the threshold of the ‘New Leap.’

The New Leap.

Those rare individuals who survived his tests were bestowed with ‘transcendent grace.’ They unlocked capabilities and authorities that far exceeded their previous limits.

However, the path was littered with failures. Most who tried ended up in the depths of despair.

‘The complexity and nature of these tests are mine to dictate.’

While more grueling trials led to greater power, he decided that three would be sufficient to put this cunning human in his place.

‘Let us begin with something basic.’

He chose a test that had recently claimed a failure—one that typically stymied most 1-star Transcendents.

With a mental smirk, Ainhassar spoke.

—Perform one hundred consecutive strikes with this blade.

A weapon appeared, so massive it looked as though it were forged for a mountain-sized beast. Even a powerful giant would find it nearly impossible to wield.

The challenge wasn’t merely the number of swings; they had to be executed in a single, unbroken sequence without a moment’s pause.

“……”

The man simply stared at the colossal sword, his gaze unwavering.

Was he paralyzed by the sheer scale of the task?

—There is no shame in admitting defeat now.

Ainhassar mocked him.

He had suspected the man was clever, but perhaps he had overestimated him?

Yet, the challenger did not retreat. He walked toward the weapon with measured steps and gripped the hilt.

“Hrrgh!”

With a guttural shout of effort, he hoisted the massive steel.

Whoosh!

The blade sliced through the air immediately after.

‘Interesting.’

So, he possessed at least that much strength? It looked like a struggle, but he was clearly operating beyond the standard 1-star threshold.

“Huff… Huff…!”

Drenched in sweat, the man completed the hundredth swing. He had actually succeeded.

—The initial trial is complete. A respectable effort.

But this was only the beginning. He had cleared the easiest hurdle. Ainhassar could now escalate the difficulty for the remaining stages.

‘Let’s see how he handles the level of a 2-star Transcendent.’

Based on the sword exercise, that seemed like a fitting challenge. The man hadn’t made the task look effortless; he seemed to be a high-tier 1-star or a fledgling 2-star.

‘I have the perfect 2-star level trials prepared.’

He selected one of his most difficult variations.

Roar!

In an instant, thousands upon thousands of searing orbs of light erupted behind Ainhassar!

—You are forbidden from using any skills, gear, or magical aids. You must evade every single one using nothing but your physical reflexes.

Naturally, a single hit meant failure.

The challenger’s eyes widened slightly. Exhausted from the first test, dodging this onslaught should have been an impossible feat.

‘This is where he falls.’

Ainhassar was curious to see just how long he could last. He released the barrage of flames all at once.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The chamber echoed with a relentless series of detonations. If the man used a defensive skill or a shield by reflex, he would be disqualified.

At first, he seemed to be escaping by a hair’s breadth, but surely he would slip up soon. Ainhassar watched with predatory focus.

‘Wait…’

Something felt wrong.

The man was avoiding every single orb, missing them by the thickness of a sheet of paper every time.

How?

Hadn’t he just struggled to swing a sword? Even for a true 2-star Transcendent, perfect evasion of this pattern was nearly miraculous. It usually took dozens of attempts to find the rhythm.

And yet, this man was doing it on his very first try—barely, but successfully.

Was he more than a simple 2-star?

—Hmm. So, you’ve been masking your true capabilities?

Well played.

This human was a true deceiver.

By pretending to exert himself, he had breezed through two stages. Had he made the first look easy, Ainhassar would have skipped straight to the impossible trials. He had played the part of a struggling warrior to keep the difficulty manageable.

‘I’ll give you credit for the ruse.’

Ainhassar conceded.

Usually, his ‘Observation’ would have stripped away such lies, but this man was an anomaly he couldn’t see through. Knowing he was unreadable, the challenger had used that to his advantage.

‘He is certainly unique.’

Ainhassar felt a strange competitive spark, as if he himself were the one being tested.

‘But the game ends here.’

The final trial would be beyond any trickery. It was a test rarely even attempted, and in all of history, only a single soul had ever passed it. This would surely be the end for the fox.

—The concluding trial is simple: Attack me. If you can draw blood, you pass.

He offered himself up as the target.

He was confident; wounding him was a physical impossibility. Even those at the 3-star level or higher could not pierce his hide. Ainhassar possessed an absolute immunity to all conventional harm. Even the entity known as ‘Ruin’ had failed to slay him because of this protection.

‘There is only one specific way to hurt me.’

His defense wasn’t based on physical toughness, spiritual energy, or transcendental power. It was the unique authority of a Guardian.

While all Guardians were formidable, Ainhassar’s defense was special. The requirement to bypass it was singular.

‘Only one who has carved their name into history through legendary feats can pierce my skin.’

A Great One.

Unless the attacker was burdened with the weight of mythic accomplishments, no strike could even leave a scratch. This was why Ruin had failed; his achievements simply didn’t carry the necessary weight.

—Come. Strike me with all you have.

With total confidence, the Dragon of Light stood still.

The challenger raised the massive blade.

Squelch!

“Ng…?!”

Ainhassar let out a strangled, confused cry of agony.

And for good reason.

Spurt!

Crimson blood erupted in a violent spray, and his internal organs began to spill from a jagged tear in his side.

—

Ainhassar stared at the human, his face drained of all color.

‘…I almost died.’

Had his regenerative powers not kicked in instantly, that would have been the end. He had been hurt before, but never had he felt the cold breath of death so clearly.

Ainhassar looked at the man in sheer terror.

He saw the human looking back at him, a mocking, knowing grin playing on his lips.

‘What in the world are you?!’