John materialized in a vast expanse of golden wheat, the stalks stretching as far as the eye could see, rippling like a golden sea under a gentle breeze. He couldn't see what awaited him, but the ground trembled beneath his feet, the wheat field parting in slow, deliberate waves, as if some colossal earthworm—or perhaps something far worse—was burrowing just beneath the surface. Then, a section of wheat several yards ahead buckled and snapped, the dry stalks splintering with a sharp crack, revealing a fleeting glimpse of something dark and glistening… scales? Then, the earth heaved again, more violently this time, and an immense head rose from the wheat field, eclipsing the sun for a fleeting, terrifying moment. It was a snake, impossibly large, its scales black as obsidian, each one the size of a shield, reflecting the sunlight like polished mirrors, its gaze fixed on John.
Its eyes were striking—large, narrow slits of gold, the exact shade of the surrounding wheat, yet burning with a cold, reptilian intelligence that belied the peaceful setting. It was massive, a living mountain of muscle and scale, its sheer size a stark contrast to the delicate stalks of wheat. John wasn’t sure of its exact length, but one thing was clear: this was a test. He could summon his fly rod, rely on familiar tactics, but this felt like an opportunity to truly gauge the extent of his recent transformations, to see if his body could finally keep pace with the enhanced speed of his mind. He wouldn’t waste it. He held his ground, his senses heightened, waiting for the inevitable strike. The snake’s head moved with surprising speed, a blur of obsidian scales and gleaming gold eyes lunging towards him, a dark arrow aimed at his heart. Just as the massive jaws opened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth, John shifted his weight, executing the first three stances of his Time-Chi style in a near-instant. Time seemed to stretch and distort around him, the snake’s attack unfolding before him like a carefully choreographed dance viewed in slow motion. He pivoted, channeling his enhanced strength and the burgeoning power of his Time-Chi into a powerful side kick, his foot connecting with the snake’s jaw with a resounding thud that sent tremors through the surrounding wheat field.
The snake’s head snapped back, the force of John’s kick clearly jarring its massive frame. A thick, crimson line appeared along the side of its jaw, and droplets of blood, dark against the obsidian scales, began to drip onto the wheat, staining the golden stalks crimson. The sheer power of the impact was evident; the ground around the point of contact cracked slightly, and the air filled with the sharp, metallic scent of reptilian blood. That hit must have hurt—it was far more impactful than John had anticipated, a mere taste of his newfound strength. A surge of confidence coursed through him, but he knew this wasn't over. He wanted to test something, to push the limits of his control, to truly understand the extent of his transformation. He waited, his senses heightened, for the snake’s next move. It came quickly—a lightning-fast strike aimed directly at his chest, a blur of black scales and gleaming fangs. But John didn’t flinch. At the last possible instant, just before the fangs could pierce his skin, his left hand snapped out, catching one of the snake’s massive fangs between his fingers with surprising ease. The snake’s momentum carried its head forward, but John held firm, the fang digging slightly into his palm, drawing a bead of blood. He then pulled the snake’s massive head down, forcing it closer to his own, until he was staring directly into one of its large, golden eyes. “I can easily kill you,” he said, his voice low and steady, each word carrying the weight of absolute certainty, “but that would be a waste. I’ll let you go this time. But if you attack me again… I won’t hesitate.” He paused, holding the snake’s gaze, his own eyes unwavering. The large eye slowly blinked, a flicker of fear—almost a plea for mercy—visible within its reptilian depths. John released his grip. The snake recoiled, shaking its head violently, as if trying to shake off not just the pain, but the very memory of its encounter with John.
“Jinn,” John began, his voice steady and measured, “I understand this floor’s test is to defeat this magnificent creature. But I have a proposition. Destroying it would be a significant waste. You would simply expend more energy creating a replacement. I know its core is intended as my reward, and I appreciate the offer, but I believe there’s a more… beneficial outcome for everyone involved. I’m growing increasingly concerned about the behavior of certain guilds and sects, particularly around the 10th floor safe zone. Their actions are creating more conflict than they prevent. Max could easily resolve the situation, but I’m waiting for the opportune moment to unleash her. This snake… I can feel the faint echo of dragon’s blood within it. I propose I offer it a portion of my own cores, not to control it, but to nurture its inherent strength, on one condition: that it dedicates itself to protecting the safe zone you established. It’s meant to be a sanctuary, a place of respite, but it has become a breeding ground for petty power struggles and unnecessary deaths. People twist your rule of ‘no killing on a safe floor’ into a justification for their own tyrannical sub-rules. They create chaos in the name of preventing it. How is that fulfilling the intended purpose of a safe zone? I understand your ultimate objective is the elimination of the weak, and I respect that. But I believe this arrangement can serve that purpose and create a truly safe haven. Let me help you, the snake, and myself. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, a more efficient use of resources.”
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John was, in truth, testing Jinn. He knew the entity rarely interacted with him directly, preferring Max’s more analytical approach. This was a probe, a test of Jinn’s flexibility when presented with a logical argument. But there was more to it than that. Preserving this snake felt strategically sound. It had been forced into this role, a pawn in Jinn’s grand game, just as he had been in the beginning. John had no issue with fighting creatures driven by instinct, but this was different. This snake… he sensed a powerful potential within it, a spark of something truly extraordinary. He wanted to nurture that spark, to see it ignite into a dragon’s fire. It possessed the necessary components; it simply needed time, just as he did. He turned to the snake, meeting its intelligent gaze. “So,” he began, “what do you say? I know you understand me, even if you can’t speak yet. How about I help you become a dragon? In return, I ask for mutual respect and the possibility of future cooperation. I anticipate needing allies, just as you might need one today. Do we have an understanding—pending Jinn’s approval, of course? This needs to be a mutually beneficial arrangement.” The snake nodded its massive head in slow acknowledgment. “Excellent,” John said, a confident smile playing on his lips. “So, Jinn… do we have an accord?” The voice of Jinn reverberated through the entire floor, shaking the very air around John. “Fine. But this is the only time you will be permitted to circumvent the established challenge.” “Deal,” John responded instantly. “Before we’re transported to the 10th floor, allow me to claim my stat upgrades here. I’ll then attend to the snake’s wounds—no point in sending him back in such a state. Perhaps you could simply… expand the existing tree? It would provide a suitable habitat and facilitate my assistance in its transformation. I will, of course, cover the teleportation cost, as our initial agreement only included free travel for myself.”
John felt the familiar sting of cold pain, the sensation that always accompanied passing a floor's guardian. The silver number etched into his vision flickered, then solidified into a clear '30'. A rush of power followed, the influx of another 100 stat points settling into his being. He acknowledged the change, a subtle shift in his overall strength, but compared to the earth-shattering transformations of his body and spirit breakthroughs, this felt… negligible. Just a slight boost, a minor upgrade. Or so he initially thought.
Then, a notification chimed in his mind:
TITLE UNLOCKED: Silver Birth
For having the true bearing of royal blood.
Rewards:
* Silver Blood: (Passive) Grants a subtle resilience to magical and physical attacks.
* Mana Flow Increase: Increases Mana Flow by 25%.
* Synergy Bonus: Grants a 10% bonus to all stats affected by other "Silver" titles (e.g., Silver Heart, Silver Tongue).
John blinked, rereading the notification. Silver Blood? Royal blood? He’d never considered himself of noble descent, but the system didn't lie. The mana flow increase was immediately noticeable, a distinct surge of energy coursing through his meridians, and a general feeling of invigoration. But it was the synergy bonus that truly caught his attention. He already possessed the titles "Silver Heart" and "Silver Tongue," both of which granted significant bonuses to his spirit and intelligence, respectively. Now, those bonuses were being amplified by an additional 10%. The “so so” feeling vanished as he felt the true impact of the title settle in. This wasn’t just a minor upgrade; it was a significant boost to his overall power, a multiplier to abilities he already possessed. The cold pain and the initial disappointment were now distant memories, replaced by a sense of anticipation for how this new power would affect his fighting strength in the next challenge.