Five seconds after the combat test ended, Bingpo rushed over. That dragon breath clash blew her mind—she couldn’t process it right away.
“Chiyan, what was that move? Not a regular dragon breath, right? No way it’s that strong—my guess, at least twice the power. Is it… a special skill?!” Bingpo asked, shocked.
Special skills, aka innate or unique skills, exist outside the normal “skill tree.” They can’t be learned conventionally. Usually, they’re exclusive to one user, though a few are shared by a handful.
Even Bingpo, a brainiac with twice Chiyan’s regular skills, didn’t have one. Chiyan pulling out a special skill? Unacceptable—Bingpo tensed up.
But Chiyan, oblivious, grinned and boasted loudly, “Yup, special skill! I call it [Passionate Explosion], full of my love for Master. Pretty badass, huh? If we dueled now, with Master’s buff, I’d smoke you!”
Bingpo felt mixed. On one hand, relief—Chiyan’s just passionate, not some deeper vibe. On the other, her “Master’s buff” comment pissed Bingpo off, like she didn’t have Master’s support! Sure, no special skills, but that doesn’t mean no buff!
Bingpo huffed, cheeks puffed, refusing to look at Chiyan. She needed a breather and wasn’t ready for Chiyan’s inevitable Versailles-style bragging.
Chiyan spun around. Her reward appeared—a red treasure chest dropped with a thud, lid popping open.
She dashed over, peering inside. Like Bingpo’s, two items, but easier to understand.
One: “Firecracker,” a one-use throwable. Timed or instant explosion, level 700 power.
Another: “Shining Dragon Scale,” blocks one fatal hit.
Super practical! Chiyan nodded, stashing both in her pocket.
“What’d you get?” Bingpo, hearing Chiyan hum happily, couldn’t resist asking.
“Stuff to blow up and stuff to not get blown up!” Chiyan summed up. Bingpo snorted but wasn’t jealous—her own items were “Insufficient Permissions,” meaning crazy valuable. She’d show them to Master later for surefire praise.
Bingpo’s mood bounced back, and a light ring to the third floor appeared. She and Chiyan marched toward it without hesitation.
Outside the spiral tower:
Filo, watching the fight, turned to the white dragon. “How many floors does this tower have?”
“Uh, one hundred…”
“What?! One hundred?! The second floor was that hard—later floors must be insane!” Filo freaked. The second floor wasn’t easy, even if her face stayed calm. She’d been cheering Bingpo and Chiyan in her heart.
If the second floor’s that tough, the third’s doable, but the fourth, fifth… tenth?!
Filo got antsy, but reality differed slightly.
“Since the red and blue girls are dragons, their trial’s different. One of their floors equals ten for others. Ten floors total. Dragon King’s rule: if descendants reach the tenth, they get his inheritance…”
The white dragon clammed up—too much painful history. Filo frowned. Ultimate Beings are immortal, right? Am I the only one with Indomitable Spirit?
She didn’t dare dwell. Thinking she’s the sole immortal among Ultimate Beings? Too cocky. They’re all Ultimate Beings—why just her?
Back inside the spiral tower:
The light ring flashed, pulling Bingpo and Chiyan to the third floor. Gravity doubled—nothing to them. Dragon World’s gravity is ten times human’s!
Like the second floor, a giant stone tablet rose from the surface, same words: Intelligence Test or Combat Test.
Bingpo pinched her chin, thinking. Based on the second floor, the safest bet was sticking to the pattern—she’d take intelligence, Chiyan combat.
The second floor’s intelligence test wasn’t hard. Even a level up, Bingpo was confident she’d crush it.
Chiyan, with her new special skill and wild combat instincts, wouldn’t lose on the third floor’s combat test. Plus, her second-floor rewards—a bomb and a shield—meant she’d breeze through, even if outmatched.
Yup, that’s the plan!
Bingpo turned to tell Chiyan, but a bad vibe hit. Beside her, Chiyan was gone.
“Wait, no way! Chiyan, chill, don’t—”
Bingpo’s eyes widened, head snapping forward. Chiyan stood at the tablet, hand on Intelligence Test, taking a deep breath. “I choose the intelligence test!!”