Chapter 423

Chapter 423: Bonfire Gathering

When Midi entered, he was at the peak of Level 61. Upon emerging, he had reached the small success stage of Level 62, his aura condensed to perfection and lightly tinged with Dragon’s might.

Without question, Midi had gained the greatest benefits from comprehending the monument.

This didn’t even account for the partially repaired Horn King Greatsword or the Eighth Apostle Rot, who had absorbed a massive amount of Primordial Aura.

Yet Rot remained unsatisfied. He claimed that if not for worrying about the Wolfspider tribe’s reaction, he could’ve drained the monument completely. This restrained absorption was merely to avoid suspicion.

Recalling how the aura had surged like tidal waves, Midi wondered how many more times the monument could be used by others.

After this session, Midi and Mason both stood at Level 62 small success, forming the backbone forces.

The true vanguard was Alexis, at Level 62 peak with unmatched combat strength.

Zaknavan, who once held a slight level advantage over Midi, now lagged behind at Level 61 peak.

The three Tribe Warriors ranged between Level 61 small success and major success.

Both Black Dragon Priestesses remained at Level 60 peak.

This comprised the core team the Wolfspider tribe sent to the bonfire gathering’s selection.

Each of the nine members played indispensable roles.

At the gathering, they’d face another nine-member team structured like their own.

Victory would grant them the qualification to earn favor from Mososbury City’s powerful factions and major families, enabling participation in the city’s fighter selections and a chance to enter the Crystal Dragon Fortress.

For most, this was the ultimate goal.

For Midi, targeting the Black Dragon Conference, this was a necessary step.

He’d spent weeks practicing alchemy, gathering resources, and strengthening his psychic energy. During one week in Mososbury City, he acquired intelligence and purchased the Horn King Greatsword. In a single night beneath the Black Dragon monument, he broke through to Level 62.

Now, after a month’s preparation, the bonfire gathering commenced.

The next morning, the group returned to the Wolfspider tribe, rested briefly, then followed the old mage toward the gathering site.

The Mososbury City Council hosted this event to let regional tribes access higher opportunities while allowing city factions to recruit new blood.

The gathering occurred in a massive ruin two days from Mososbury City. Years of renovations had transformed this ancient site into a fully equipped arena.

The Wolfspider team soon arrived at the colossal obsidian structure.

Dragonkin statues dotted the vast space, silent reminders that the Black Dragon Conference selections had begun.

At the arena’s center stood four obsidian fighting platforms encircled by protective magic arrays, surrounded by spectator stands.

The ground between platforms was paved with black sand harder than metal, impervious to explosions. These sands absorbed and dispersed the impact force powerfully.

Had this construction technique been applied to city defenses, it would’ve created impregnable fortifications.

Midi couldn’t help but think to himself that merely seeing this arena deepened his understanding of the major families’ power in Mososbury City.

The familiar scene also instantly reminded him of the recent slave warrior selection he’d experienced.

“So it’s exactly like back then,” Midi realized. “No—the Wolfspider tribe’s slave warrior selection must’ve copied this bonfire gathering’s format.”

Previously, in the Wolfspider tribe, over forty slave warriors had competed in a ranking tournament. They’d first fought in preliminary rounds across four arenas using a points system, with the top fighters advancing to a championship match. Now, it seemed the bonfire gathering followed the same structure.

Or rather, this was simply the most efficient method for large-scale selections.

Yet despite the similar formats, the participants differed drastically.

In the Wolfspider tribe, the slave warriors’ uneven strength had been obvious. Groups could be balanced using past rankings to prevent strong fighters from clashing early.

But here, no such adjustments existed.

The old mage explained that group assignments were entirely random. After a blood oath sworn under the black dragon god’s gaze, priests from each tribe took turns drawing lots to decide the groups.

The results? Pure chaos. Powerful Tribe Warriors might slaughter each other in preliminaries, or tribesmen could face their own kin.

Luck itself had become part of the test.

After circling the arena, the Wolfspider team was led by Mososbury City guards to a resting area. Simple houses and generous food provisions awaited early arrivals.

But in these tense times, while shelter was accepted, no one dared touch the city’s offerings. The old mage politely refused, and the group ate their own supplies.

More tribes streamed into the arena during the Wolfspiders’ rest—including the Blue Serpent Tribe they’d previously clashed with.

With their Great Warrior slain by Alexis and their second warrior crippled by Midi, the Blue Serpents entered quietly, unnoticed, claiming the worst corner. Clearly, they participated only to avoid offending Mososbury City’s hosts, expecting no victory.

Their subdued arrival contrasted sharply with the Fire Lizard and Water Spider Tribes’ grand entrances.

These two had been the last gathering’s biggest winners. Their warriors had joined Mososbury City’s major families as outer members, later excelling in the City’s Fighter Selection. Though those warriors remained in the city, their tribal families maintained close ties, earning their tribes special favor. Over five years, both tribes had grown powerful—practically acting as the major families’ local representatives.

Though each team’s core numbered nine, their entourages—leaders, guards, servants, slaves—swelled beyond a hundred. They marched in like Behemoths trampling a field of kittens, their sheer presence overwhelming.

At the Fire Lizards’ forefront stood a towering figure—scaled, tailed, radiating menace. He resembled a Lizardman but dwarfed them in aura.

“Look! Risen, the Fire Lizard Great Warrior with the Black Dragon’s bloodline!”

Whispers rippled through the crowd—a mix of awe, wariness, and smoldering hatred. Over five years, Risen had crushed countless foes in territory challenges, expanding his tribe’s reach while forging his terrifying reputation. Feared, respected, despised—but never ignored.

His Level 64 peak alone overshadowed every other warrior present.

Yet he wasn’t unchallenged. Across the arena, the Water Spider Tribe arrived simultaneously. Their hundred-strong contingent included mostly magic users. Leading them was Ulhan, a dark elf Ice Mage Great Warrior also at Level 64.

Merely revealing their levels cowed the crowd before battles even began.

Ulhan, clad in ornate robes, locked eyes with Risen briefly before turning toward the Wolfspiders. He flashed a brutal gesture: *Cross me, and you die.*

Gasps erupted. Why would distant tribes clash? Some smirked, glad for one fewer rival. Only the Wolfspiders knew the truth.

“The Water Spiders are allied by marriage to the Death Scorpion family,” the old mage said evenly. “Last gathering, their Great Warrior married the Death Scorpion family head’s daughter, entering their inner circle.”

His calm tone couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.