Somewhere far away from the ancient dragon fortress hub, in a hidden space cut off from normal cosmic perception, several figures sat around a circular black table.
The room was silent, dark, and filled with countless floating system symbols.
Each symbol belonged to a different candidate.
However, at this moment, one of those symbols had gone completely dim.
The golden-red mark that represented Kairox had shattered, and for several seconds, none of the figures spoke.
Finally, one woman sitting at the edge of the table opened her eyes.
Her pupils were silver, and her voice was calm but cold. "Kairox is dead."
Across from her, a large man covered in black armor leaned back in his chair. "Impossible. Kairox was not weak."
A third figure, a pale young man with a lazy smile, tapped his finger against the table. "Not weak? He was one of the stronger candidates in our circle. He had already hunted dragons, killed weaker candidates, and built an entire Dragon Slayer army."
