Nah, the girl was too skilled. With just one breath, she extinguished the fire. The contestants were in shock—not only did her breath snuff out the flames, it also carved a crater into the floor.
A voice trembled from the crowd: "D-Did she just... made a hole in the ground?!"
The girl exhaled again—gracefully—and then transformed. Majestic horns. Crimson scales. Golden eyes. She was no mere cultivator.She was a dragon.And not just any dragon.
People began to recognize her as she shed her disguise. "She is the daughter of the King of Dragons... A direct heir!"
Her disguise fell. Gasps. Screams. Whispers.
Agnes did the only logical thing.—he ran.
An elderly beggar shouted, "Run! Run! Run! It's a freaking dragon!"
Agnes, sprinting behind him, yelled back, "YES! Run, old man! Don't look back!"
An elderly beggar shouted, "I'm too old for this nonsense!"
The moment the Beggar Sect saw danger, they said NOPE, quit the exam, and left.
Only 442 candidates remained.
Agnes nearly quit too, but his survival instincts had other plans. So he kept running.
The dragon fired her breath wildly, incinerating everything in her line of sight. One fiery blast struck the ground a full kilometer away from Agnes, but the shockwave sent rubble flying. A stone the size of a ping-pong ball hurtled straight into his forehead.
BAMMMM!
Knocked out cold. Blood covered his face, blending with the red paint.
He slowly opened his eyes.
He was now seated in a chair, bound by chains made of roses. Memories flooded his mind—millions of lives flashing before his eyes in the span of an hour.
His brain couldn't handle it. Blood poured from his eyes, ears, and mouth. Just as he was about to lose his sanity.
A scream escaped him—"MAKE IT STOP!"
A faint voice called out: "Wake up."
It was the hanged girl. The red demon beneath her still slept like sleeping beauty.
Agnes, mentally transformed, refined with clusters of headaches.
Agnes awoke from the vision. He was surrounded by people—demons, demigods, humans, elves, dwarves, beastmen, dragons, hybrids. All remaining contestants pointed their weapons at him.
A few meters away lay the severed head of the Dragon Princess, along with the corpses of hundreds.
Only 91 contestants remained.
Agnes blinked "Wait... did I do that? Or did someone frame me?"
Agnes had a theory, he muttered, "I might've switched places with that glowing figure…"
He moved slowly and sat beneath a tree. "I suggest no one come near me."
The exam ended. Casualties were enormous.
Agnes, bleeding, looked up. Sunlight touched his skin.
He exhaled. "This entrance wasn't meant for the weak. Unlike the tournament, where you fight your own league, this was full-blown war."
The entrance exam was over.
Tales of the Red Ugly Clown spread across the continent. Because of the chaos, the tournament was delayed.
In the meantime, candidates who passed—both from the entrance exam and those with sect-recommended seats—were required to measure their Qi to determine rank and verify authenticity.
Many living legends were present—icons, idols.
Ulam and Zenith had returned, now joined by other terrifying individuals. The Magical Sage known as Sazard. The martial artist God-Hand Yori, who once fought a God-King toe-to-toe. They reunited like old classmates. Some even shared teachers or sects.
Ulam with smirk reminds them "Remember when Zenith cried after eating that spirit fruit?"
Zenith replied with funny gesture "That was a powerful emotional release, thank you."
Others remained hidden or mysterious.
Then came Agnes.
His body had been magically healed. His reputation, however, had not.
Rumors ran wild:
"Did you hear? He killed hundreds during the entrance exam."
"Yeah, I heard he didn't even stop when the exam ended."
"They say he provoked the Dragon King's daughter into rampage and then killed her."
"He might be a Saint or even a Transcendent. But what is he? A martial artist? Mage? Cultivator?"
Goofy walk. Blood-stained. Vibe of a man who'd seen the Big Bang and decided something, reading the book he bought earlier—The Art of Enlightenment and How to Fake It Until You Make It.
He stared at the ground, detached.
In his mind: If I died and got reincarnated, then there's no end to the cycle of life. So why fear death? My goal is the ball… and then maybe immortality. To live a chill immortal life. But isn't that just pausing the wheel of life?""Damn, I need tea."
"I forgot I was reincarnated. I almost forgot who I am."
Suddenly—THUD!
He crashed into someone. Both fell to the ground.
Everyone around scattered like chickens.
"That girl's done for!" someone shouted.
"Run, little sister! He's dangerous!" said another.
Agnes groaned, "Ouch! Ouch! Who's this dumbass??"
A voice barked back, "Who're you calling dumbass?! You crashed into me!"
Red hair. A mole on her chin.
Agnes blinked.
Then screamed internally.
"No. No no no. Not her. Out of everyone on the planet—WHY HER?!"
"This woman is my worst luck come alive…"
"How many badluck point do I have? Yes, God help me. Is God dead? Or does He just want ME dead?!"
He stammered, "I… I… it's you! Miss Le-Leo—Leorin?!"
She raised an eyebrow, then posed dramatically.
"Heck yeah I am! Who are you, mister? Care to introduce yourself to this beautiful lady?"
Agnes stepped closer.
She recoiled in horror.
"Ew! You smell like a corpse! Stay back, disgusting filth!"
Agnes leaned in and whispered,
"It's me. Agnes, dumbass."
She screamed—he slapped a hand over her mouth."I'm hiding my identity. Calm down. I need to talk to you."
She nodded. Barely.
To be continued...