The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

The chamber fell into a weighted silence as Adam remained seated on the low bench, his crimson eyes fixed on the three figures before him. The Elder stood at the head, his staff planted firmly on the stone floor. Azrynn stood slightly behind him, her yellow eyes fixed on the ground, her expression carrying a deep, apologetic weight. And beside her, Drizt stood with his chin lifted, his sharp gaze locked onto Adam with defiant intensity.

Adam had already heard the explanation. The Elder had spoken clearly and concisely—the Bloodfeud Duel. Adam’s internal voice was dry, almost amused.

’Hoo... so this is what’s happening. I didn’t expect to get challenged to a duel today. He’s in love with Azrynn, isn’t he? How romantic.’

He let the silence stretch, his expression calm and composed. Azrynn’s shoulders tensed, and she finally spoke, her voice quiet and strained.

”Adam... if you don’t want to do this, you can refus—”

Drizt’s voice cut through, sharp and unyielding. ”You can’t refuse. The Bloodfeud Duel is sacred. Once issued, it must be answered. There’s no backing out—and the challenge must be honored.”

Another elder, a stern-faced woman with silver-streaked hair, leaned forward. Her voice carried a note of cold disapproval.

”And who taught you that, boy? You speak as if you understand the weight of such a tradition.”

A younger Dark Elf stepped forward and whispered something into the elder’s ear. Her expression shifted—a flicker of recognition, then a harder edge. Her gaze swept over Drizt with renewed assessment.

”Ah. You’re Casil’s son. That explains a great deal. No wonder you lack the proper respect for this sacred gathering. Do you understand that this is also a sacred meeting? And you chose to interrupt it with a personal grievance?”

Drizt’s jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to defend himself but before he could form the words—

”Well, well. A love-struck challenger. How... delightful.”

Adam’s voice cut through the tension, calm but carrying a weight that silenced the room. All eyes turned to him. He rose slowly from the bench, his crimson gaze sweeping over the gathered elders before settling on Drizt.

”Let’s not waste time with anger. I’ve heard enough about the duel, and I understand the tradition.” His lips curved into a faint, almost amused smile. ”You have courage, Drizt—that is your name, isn’t it? To challenge me in the middle of a sacred meeting... I respect that.”

Drizt’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded once, his voice tight. ”Yes.”

Adam’s smile widened, just slightly. ”Then I accept your challenge. If this is the way things must be done, then I won’t stand in the way of tradition.”

Azrynn’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with alarm. ”Adam—!”

Adam raised a hand, cutting her off gently. His voice was calm, steady.

”Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

The Elder’s weathered face softened into a knowing smile as he studied Adam’s calm expression. His voice carried a note of quiet respect.

”Does it bother you, Adam? Even though you are a dragon, in this duel you will face each other without your powers.”

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, relaxed smile. He leaned back slightly, his crimson eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

”That’s fine. I’m actually curious to see how this goes.”

The Elder’s smile deepened, a flicker of approval in his yellow eyes.

”Just as I expected from a dragon. You are not afraid at all.”

Drizt’s jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides, his internal voice seething with frustration.

’Tch. I’ll show Azrynn who the real warrior is.’

The Elder raised his hand, his voice carrying the weight of centuries as he addressed the gathering.

”The rules of the Bloodfeud Duel are simple. Both participants will enter a rune-marked arena. The runes will suppress all mana, skills, and abilities—ensuring that only physical strength and skill determine the outcome.”

He gestured toward two ornate daggers resting on a velvet cushion, brought forward by a younger Dark Elf.

”Each participant will wield one of these ceremonial daggers. They are identical—forged from the same metal, balanced to perfection. Their only purpose is to draw blood.”

His gaze swept over Adam and Drizt.

”The duel ends when one participant’s dagger is fully stained with the blood of their opponent. The blade must be completely red—no more than a single drop of the original metal may remain visible. The first to achieve this is declared the victor.”

He paused, letting the weight of the words settle.

”There are no other rules. No time limits. No restrictions on movement or technique. The duel continues until one blade is saturated with the other’s blood. The victor’s honor is restored. The defeated must accept their loss without further challenge.”

The Elder’s voice dropped, growing quieter but no less firm.

”This is our way. It is not a fight to the death, but it is a fight that will leave its mark. Both participants must be prepared for that.”

Adam’s internal voice was calm, almost amused.

’Hmm. A duel that ends when the dagger is completely coated in blood... That’s not about killing. It’s about drawing enough blood to prove your superiority. Brutal in its own way, but not lethal.’

His gaze drifted to Drizt, taking in the younger elf’s rigid posture, the tension coiled in his shoulders, the fire burning in his yellow eyes.

’He’s not going to back down. And honestly... I’m curious to see what he’s capable of. Maybe I’ll learn something from this.’

His lips curved into a faint, almost eager smile.

’And maybe I’ll enjoy it a little more than I should.’

The Elder’s voice carried through the chamber, calm and formal, as he addressed both participants.

”Then it is settled. The Bloodfeud Duel will proceed.”

A murmur rippled through the gathered elders. One of them, a younger male with sharp eyes and a weathered face, leaned forward, his voice carrying a note of approval.

”This will be a good opportunity for the young ones to witness. They need to see what true strength looks like—to be motivated, to understand what it means to fight with honor.”

Another elder, an older woman with silver-streaked hair and a knowing smile, inclined her head in agreement.

”It has been too long since we held a Bloodfeud Duel. The tradition has faded, but it is not forgotten. This will remind our people of what we once were.”

The Elder at the head of the gathering turned his gaze to Adam and Drizt, his voice calm and formal.

”Do both parties accept the terms of the Bloodfeud Duel? There is no shame in stepping back. The duel is sacred, but it is also a choice.”

Adam’s voice came out steady, without hesitation.

”I accept.”

Drizt’s voice followed, sharp and unyielding.

”I accept.”

The Elder nodded, a faint, approving smile crossing his weathered face. He turned to a young elf standing near the entrance, his voice carrying a note of quiet authority.

”Spread the word. Gather everyone at the arena. There will be a Bloodfeud Duel.”

The young elf bowed and slipped out of the chamber, his footsteps echoing softly as he disappeared into the winding corridors of the village.

Adam’s gaze drifted to Azrynn, who was still standing near the Elder, her yellow eyes fixed on him with a mixture of worry and uncertainty. He met her gaze, his voice calm but carrying a note of quiet command.

”Azrynn. Go tell the others, I want them to see this.” A faint, almost playful smirk tugged at his lips. ”I need to show off a little.”

Azrynn blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. Then a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She bowed her head slightly, her voice carrying a note of quiet obedience.

”Understood.”

She turned and slipped out of the chamber, her footsteps light and purposeful as she headed toward the guest houses.