There were around ten thousand applicants separated into three stadiums.

This meant there were around ten thousand dragons, of all sizes, ages, and colors, divided into three big spaces.

From the moment I got to Ergos, I had been paying attention to the dragons I saw. Making mental notes, comparing them with each other, analyzing their riders—gathering any and every information I could to increase my chances.

Yet not even once did I see a dragon modified to that extent. Not even during my years as Jackal.

“Cornelius Romerio the Third, let go of this tail!”

The woman had mounted off the dragon, trying to force his mouth open.

She had dark tanned skin, and short hair that shimmered like gold under the sunlight. A pair of goggles hung from her neck, and by the leather jacket and gloves she wore I could tell she either had money, or her family did.

“Please…! Can’t you see you are upsetting them? You will get us disqualified, you big buffoon!” she cried out, the frustration and desperation in her voice rising by the minute.

The dragon barely moved.

‘Cornelius the Third’ was likely four meters high, not much more than that. The scales were an ice blue, with a violet shimmer to them. His eyes, however, were a striking blue.

What amused me was how slim his body was, although I could still see the robust and well-formed muscles.

He had short legs, which contributed to his shorter stature, with a trail of spikes running down his spine in a way that resembled fins. The dragon had four short horns on his head, two on each side, his claws sharp yet far too polished.

There was this wild and impetuous glow in his gaze, the way he stared right into the woman’s eyes as she fought to make him let go of Styx’s tail almost as if challenging her.

The more I looked at him, the more he appeared to be…

“A child.”

Both the woman and the dragon turned to me, blinking a few times as if they were processing my words.

She turned to me with an apologetic look, scratching the back of her head with a crooked smile.

“I’m so sorry about this, you are talking about his behavior, right?”

The exact moment she turned around, the pale dragon let go of Styx’s tail.

And was whipped with said tail in the face as Styx growled at him.

“Connie has quite the temperament, so I was quite torn between locking him in his cage until the race and showing him the other dragons. I never imagined he would react this way.”

The blueish dragon took a step back, lowering his head slightly to the older dragon, yet there was a curious glow in his gaze.

“How old is he?” Was all I asked in reply.

“Three years, seven months, and 28 days old!” She stuffed her chest with pride, oblivious to how her dragon was trying to play catch with Styx and getting whipped at every try.

I clicked my tongue.

Three years, seven months, and 28 days old.

That was the bare minimum age a dragon needed to have in order to compete.

At that point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she counted down the seconds until she could step into the line to register her mount.

“Is your dragon enhanced?”

Her cheeks flushed, a new anger crossing her deep green eyes.

“Of course not! How disgraceful of you to even assume that.”

“You created a crossbreed with a four-legged and a wingless dragon.” It was not a question.

The anger was then gone from her face, a new joy spreading across her lips, her voice booming with pride.

“Connie was the last to hatch in his brooding, yet he was the first success. He's gorgeous isn’t he—”

She turned around right in time to see the little beast jumping on Styx's back, and I knew at that moment my dragon was hanging on his last shred of patience.

The woman held her breath, her face turning purple. Were it due to shame or rage, I could not know.

“Cornelius, for the love of—GET DOWN!” The wingless dragon met her gaze, unbothered, unmoving. “Now!”

Styx did so for him. He grabbed the pale dragon by the neck with his teeth, throwing the youngling on the ground and far away from him.

Three seconds later, Cornelius “Connie” the Third was standing up and rushing toward Styx again.

I did my very best not to laugh as the woman who barely reached my shoulders crushed against her dragon and grabbed him by his reins, forcing him down so she could mount.

“I’m so terribly sorry about this—really, I swear I thought he would behave better than this. I’m taking Connie back to his cage.”

As she climbed him and attempted to take control, the dragon tried to get Styx’s tail at least twice. The strange breeder waved at me before she disappeared in the crowd, the shouts and complaints from other applicants echoing as she went on.

Even if I didn’t know Styx that well, his annoyance was noticeable.

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh, adjusting his saddle once again.

“Seems like I won’t have to worry about you getting along with your juniors, huh?”

Before I realized it, I was already on the ground. All it took was one quick movement from Styx’s drooled tail, and I was down.

I let out a cry, my butt starting to hurt. I ignored all the laughs and sneers others sent my way, turning to face the black dragon with some frustration growing in my voice.

“Hey! Come on, what was that for?!”

Styx avoided my glare as if it had nothing to do with him, though I could see his snicker.

“Yeah, go ahead, be funny. Yet if we get behind because I had to compete with a sore ass, I will cut off your treats for the rest of the month.”

His smile was gone, fast. The dragon scoffed and turned away, but soon enough his tail was wrapping around me and helping me stand.

I brushed off the dust in my clothes, glancing at the liquid silver orb floating above the stadium.

In ten minutes, we would be directed to our designated rooms. Then, we would have five minutes to set up everything and mount our dragons. After the five minutes, they would open the doors for all the applicants—

And the race would start.

I had seen this scene a thousand times over, yet I had always been the man behind the radio. The one communicating with the riders and giving them instructions while I had total control and view of the lanes.

If I wanted to make things more exciting, I would order my guys to blow up one of the buildings. If I needed more challenges, I placed traps. If I wanted more angles and spots to be covered, I would place more orbs.

For the first time ever, I would be on the other side.

I wouldn’t be holding a crown. Instead, I had to make sure the people wearing the crown would watch me and see a toy interesting enough to keep among their shiny treasures.

My eyes wandered through the stadium once more—searching. Trying to spot that one familiar wingless dragon with a blue mane and cobalt eyes, accompanied by a kid with green hair who never failed to wear his worn-down cap.

How finding them would soothe my nerves and ease my heart, I was unsure.

“You never met Blue, right? Emrys’ dragon,” I asked Styx in a low voice, his eyes twitching slightly as I spoke. “He is not special in any way, but still, we need to look out for him—for both of them. Because Blue may not be the greatest dragon here, but his synergy with Emrys may be one of the strongest I’ve ever seen. I don’t think anyone here will surpass them, in this regard.”

Styx listened to me in silence, barely moving. I counted all my potions and checked to see if the reins were properly set. Then I stopped, the words I wanted to say tingling in my mouth, scratching my throat.

“Your previous owner…they said you got interested in me.” Styx lowered his gaze, the fierce purple piercing right into my own. My mouth got dry, forcing me to clear my throat if I wanted to continue. “I’m not sure why. And honestly, I don’t care. But I saw you racing, from the previous recordings, and I acknowledge your experience. Your talent. I know how much you want to compete again.”

The dragon eyed me with a raw curiosity. A gaze so intense it almost made me dizzy.

“I’m not as talented as Emrys. But trust me when I say there’s nothing I want more than to become the best rider there is. So even if I’m not good now, keep betting on me. Trust the instincts that told you I was the best rider for you, and I will prove them right.”

I couldn’t tell what Styx was thinking. He stood still, staring at me, without even blinking. Sometimes I was not even sure he understood everything I said or even paid attention.

Yet before any kind of response could be given, there was a loud bell. The sound echoed through the stadium with force, reverberating with the impending doom of many.

I clenched my fists, trying to force my hands to stop shaking.

“Seems like our time to shine has come.” I tried to not let my voice tremble as I spoke. I tried to look as confident as I could. To feel like the great Jackal, once again.

The best ringleader in the underground. The undefeated boss. The king of the wild races.

Yet I kept being reminded of Angus’ dream. The one where I was a beaten and hunted animal, one butchered and feasted on. A bleeding fox fated to perish.

I shook my head, closing my eyes for a few moments. Clearing my thoughts.

Perhaps people had already forgotten all about the great ringleader Jackal. Perhaps, to most of them, he was nothing but an animal given to slaughter. This generation’s Ikarus.

Yet even if I could not carry Jackal’s name anymore, I would show them all. I would prove to them, all over again, who I was.

Without forgetting the crown I once held in my hands, I would be the one to hunt them down and feast on their defeat. Because Jackal was not, and never would be, the new Ikarus.

And instead of falling, I would fly higher than anyone ever did before.