The lithe figure descended the makeshift staircase, iridescent eyes striking with an otherworldly quality that seemed to pierce through the onlookers' souls. Gentle winds tousled the loose, plain white clothing that draped over the seven-foot figure. The simple attire bore no adornments or accessories, yet it exuded a minimalistic yet elegant appearance.

Scott's gaze oscillated between the white hair cascading down the figure's back like a waterfall, shimmering with ethereal luminescence, and the champion's pale white skin coated with a thin layer of lightning. Footsteps were quiet and unrushed, only the flapping of robes disturbing the tranquility of the area.

Neither Scott nor his companions could discern the figure's gender, but they sensed immense power hidden within those limpid eyes.

Hastur's gaze couldn't penetrate their stats. But what did they say earlier? Scott wondered. Although he heard a soft voice, he was too far away to make out the words.

“Do we attack?” Zara asked mentally, unable to mask the hesitation in her voice.

“No,” Scott replied before Slim could. “We don't stand a chance against that person. Let's not do anything rash.”

“What if he... I mean, she... What if they want to attack us?” Slim inquired.

“We run for our lives,” Scott declared without an ounce of shame.

Three feet above the ground, shifting discs gathered at the bare feet of the stunning figure, propelling them forward toward the trio.

“Hello, my name is Ember. I'm a member of the Dragon race. Who are you, and why have you been calling me?”

The soft voice resonated in Scott’s mind as he locked eyes with the tall dragonkin. Ember extended her hand, reaching for Scott's animated mask. However, Scott intercepted her hand midway.

How can something be simultaneously so soft and durable? Aren’t Dragons known to be androgynous? No wonder we couldn’t easily discern her gender.

He cleared his throat, taking a step forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t summon you, and I would appreciate it if you refrained from touching me without my permission,” Scott asserted, gently releasing his grip. He harbored no intention of admitting he was the chaos caller.

“Forgive me; I couldn’t resist,” Ember replied audibly, a slight smile gracing her lips. “Rest assured, I didn’t approach you as an adversary, and your spoils hold no interest to me.”

“Why are you here then?” Zara asked, maintaining her battle stance, a frown etched across her face.

Ember shifted her attention towards the feline brawler, her smile softening. “You're cute. Would you like to join me on my travels?” The hovering discs glided towards the cat girl, and the dragonkin gently took hold of the flustered brawler's waist. In an instant, Zara found herself on the floating platform, pressed against the soft yet resilient skin of the mysterious dragonkin. A sweet, flowery fragrance filled her nose, and her muddled eyes slowly began to clear.

The dragon's arm remained securely around Zara's waist as the disc floated a few feet above the ground. Ember's smile grew even softer as she affectionately patted the head of the cat girl. Zara struggled to break free from the dragonkin's embrace, but her pitiful strength proved no match for the dragon's grip.

“Guys, please help me,” Zara pleaded silently. She had never felt so overpowered in her life.

Scott advanced, and Slim followed suit. The skeleton pointed its scythe at the dragonkin, its ghoulish voice resonating in the area. “Let her go.”

Ember shifted her focus to Slim, scrutinizing the menacing skeleton from head to toe. With a grasping motion, she compelled the necromancer to fly towards the disk against his will. Like Zara, the dragonkin wrapped her hand around the necromancer's waist, and the skeleton reverted to its original size. “You're cute too. I want you to travel with me as well.”

Wait, this isn't how it was supposed to go, Slim thought, pressed against the bosoms of the majestic dragon.

Zara and Slim exchanged glances, on the verge of laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“You can't leave with them,” Scott asserted, taking another step forward.

The dragon wiggled her nose, a playful smile lingering at the corner of her lips. “And why is that?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Because they're my people,” Scott declared, tightening his grip on the war hammer as he advanced further.

Ember's mental voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Let’s make an exchange, then. I’ll return your friends if you help me silence the voices. How does that sound?” Her arms tightened around the waists of her captives. “If you can’t manage that, I’ll leave with them. Rest assured; I won’t harm them. I pride myself on taking care of my subjects. So, what do you say?”

Scott met Ember's smiling gaze, but the eldritch knight's glare spoke volumes. His eyes shifted to Slim and Zara, who were desperately seeking assistance through the party channel.

I knew something like this was going to happen. This is just one of the many nutjobs that might come knocking. Who knows what the others will bring? Scott sighed, releasing his grip on the war hammer.

A hand emerged from the swirling darkness, pulling the maniacal weapon into the mask. Ember stood nearby; her small mouth opened as her trembling eyes fixed on the masked man.

Scott staggered a few steps but quickly regained his composure. “Release them, and I’ll assist you.”

The floating discs descended, and Ember loosened her grip on Zara and Slim’s waists. The necromancer and feline brawler stepped away from the enchanted item, taking cover behind Scott.

Ember extended her right hand toward the masked man. “Your turn now.”

Scott glanced at Zara and Slim. “You two, gather the beacons. I'll be back soon.”

“Be careful, buddy. I've never seen anything this powerful before,” Slim conveyed mentally.

Zara intended to respond but merely nodded.

Scott locked arms with the dragon, and she lifted him onto the discs. With a flick of her wrist, the discs soared into the skies.

“Do you think he'll be okay?” Zara whispered; her gaze fixed on the swirling mist above.

“I don't know, but given his nature, he'll likely return soon,” Slim reassured, gently patting the cat girl's back. “What concerns me more is that the experience seems to have stirred something within me,” Slim admitted, his expression bashful.

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The lingering scent of the dragon still clung to his clothes, evoking emotions he hadn't known were possible. Zara's cheeks flushed red. “W-We should focus on gathering the beacons,” she stammered before swiftly darting toward the pulsating items.

Meanwhile, Scott and Ember soared ever higher, the dragon's arms securely wrapped around the eldritch knight's waist.

Scott fixed his gaze on the unfolding path, where mana-induced explosions danced in sync with the pulsating glows of the beacon. The once-narrow judgment path widened as they ascended, revealing an increasing jumble of towering rocks and boulders.

This place is like a fucking warzone. It seems getting the beacons is the easy part, keeping them is when things become tricky.

The journey had lasted only a minute, yet Scott observed over twenty groups scattered along the widening path, locked in fierce combat.

“This place should suffice,” Ember communicated mentally as the disc ceased its ascent. The dragon released her grip on Scott’s waist, and the eldritch knight took a step back, his gaze shifting to the mist below.

“So, how do you plan to rid me of my curse?” Ember inquired.

Scott lifted his eyes, meeting the expectant gaze of the dragon. “Touch my mask. However, I won’t be held responsible for…” Ember reached for the mask before Scott could finish his statement, and the blackened mist churned, wrapping itself around the delicate fingers of the dragonkin.

The Mask of the Eldritch Spawn is devouring the madness stat of a connate mad being! Do you wish to form an Imprint of Madness? Yes! No!

Scott glanced at the system's message before redirecting his attention to Ember. The dragon stood motionless, both eyes tightly shut, a trail of drool escaping from the corner of her mouth. Is she enjoying this? Scott pondered as he attempted to grasp the dragon's hand, but no matter how much force he applied, they remained unyielding.

The Mask of the Eldritch Spawn has devoured 10 madness points!

The message reverberated through Scott's mind, overshadowing Ember's soft moans. He exerted the full force of his strength, striking at the dragon's hands, yet they remained unyielding. Damn! There's no conceivable way I can absorb all of that. I'll lose my sanity.

Gritting his teeth, Scott directed mana towards his hands. The ethereal energy dissipated the moment it materialized, a peculiar suction emanating from the delirious dragon, devouring it before a spell could take form.

The Mask of the Eldritch Spawn has devoured 8 madness points!

I’m going to go insane if this continues. Scott reached into the mask and the handle of the war hammer ejected out of the darkness.

The Mask of the Eldritch Spawn has devoured 36 madness points! War-hammer of the mad God is devouring your Madness stat! A Being blessed with madness has received the Imprint of Madness!

A three-sided yellow petal bloomed in the eyes of the dragon, disappearing as soon as it appeared.

War-hammer of the mad God has devoured a connate madness trait!

The war hammer quivered in Scott's grasp, and the murky haze enveloping it diminished. A shadowy hand emerged forcefully from the mask, swatting Ember's hands aside and returning the war hammer to its obscure confinement. The dragon snapped out of her daze, only to find Scott on one knee, panting, both hands trembling.

“I apologize. I lost myself there,” she said, helping the masked man to his feet. A golden pill materialized in her hand, and she pressed it into his palm. “This should aid your recovery. I can hardly hear those annoying voices anymore. I'm deeply grateful.”

“Take me back to my companions,” Scott demanded with a huff.

“No problem,” Ember replied, flicking her wrist. The disc vibrated briefly before slowly descending.

“I don't know how to say this, but I'd advise you and your companions not to complete the trial until you all reach level 10,” Ember murmured.

Scott struggled to raise his head. “Why?”

“The trials become exceedingly more challenging after the second one, and there are level restrictions,” Ember explained, accompanied by a refreshing smile.

Scott furrowed his brow, swaying slightly. “How do you know that? Aren't the details of the trials supposed to be a secret from the champions?”

“For regular folks, yes. However, for those sponsored by the gods, there's a lot more information available.” The dragon sported a gentle smile as she trailed her fingers along Scott's hair. “What if you and your companions became followers of the God of Darkness?”

Scott interjected, “You mean the Lesser God of Darkness, right?”

The dragon shook her head, revealing slightly elongated fangs. “The God of Darkness,” she repeated. Releasing her hold on Scott's waist, she lifted her right sleeve. A black circle adorned with a stylized image of a waning crescent moon in the center, surrounded by jagged flames in dark purple and black, covered her forearm. “I'm a sponsored candidate of the God of Darkness. I can readily take you three under my wing,” she declared, deftly arranging loose strands of hair behind her flawless ears. “So, what do you say?”

A sponsored candidate of the God of Darkness has invited you to join the Order of Darkness! Do you wish to accept the invitation! Yes! No!

Scott's gaze darted back and forth between the system's notification and the dragon's smiling visage, his thoughts running wild. She's not just a dragon; she's sponsored by a god. No wonder she possesses such formidable power. But why didn't her god assist her with her madness? It shouldn't be beyond the capabilities of a deity, right? Then again, I haven't received any notifications regarding my madness stat. Has something gone awry?

A fresh system message resonated in the ears of the half-human, jolting him from his reverie.

You have rejected the invitation!

What the…? When? Scott stared blankly at the system window, unable to comprehend what had happened. Simultaneously, disappointment flashed across Ember's face, though it was fleeting. She quickly shifted her expression, patting the head of the confused man.

“I will respect your decision, but I will keep trying to convince you. You're a precious person to me,” she declared while continuing to pat Scott's head. “We'll soon reach your companions. Strive to reach level 10 before the trial concludes and gather as many beacons as possible, okay?”

Scott nodded. “Is there anything special that happens once we reach level 10?” he inquired.

“Ask your friend, the skeleton. He should be experiencing it now,” Ember replied with a mysterious smile. The disc halted in midair, and the dragon gently tipped Scott over the edge. Instead of plummeting to the ground, he descended weightlessly, gazing at the smiling dragon.

“I have your scent now. I'll come find you after I'm done hunting the judges,” Ember declared, waving. The disc rearranged itself, and the dragon vanished in a flash.

Dragon Prince Ozani hates you! Dragon Prince Nerko hates you! Dragon King Darit hates you!

The goddess of the night, ???, is watching you! The goddess of the night, ???, wants to be your sponsor! Do you wish to accept the offer? Yes! No!