The fourth participant spat it out violently and hurriedly dashed toward the exit, leaving Daniel alone in the spotlight.
All eyes were locked on him.
Four minutes remained untill the last grain of sand fell.
'Shit… I can't hold it longer. The more I tried to resist, the stronger it gets,' he murmured, wiping tears from his tear duct.
His eyes half-closed in agony, body temperature slowly rising, snot gathering in his nose, even his scalp itched from the scorching heat of the juice.
Daniel dragged his gaze back to the hourglass and the priestess—her eyes closed, hands clasped in prayer.
'Fucking priestess… wish I could claim her before any god does…' he muttered, then squeezed his eyes shut.
In a moment of internal chaos, Daniel began to fantasize about Cindie.
In his mind, the priestess was no longer sitting on the high-backed chair. Instead, she had sunk to her knees before him, eyes lingering with lustful hunger.
"Please… master," she whispered, her voice trembling with sinful needs. "Purify my soul by taking this devilish cunt with your holy cock and make it yours."
The vivid vision flared behind his closed eyelids, easing the fire in his throat for precious seconds.
Meanwhile, his left hand instinctively slipped into his left pocket without him thinking.
Two minutes left.
Daniel was standing still in his place, hands hanging motionless, eyes closed and mind drowned in filthy fantasy.
A few moments later.
"Time's up!" the Mayor declared firmly.
Daniel snapped back to reality.
*PFFFF*
He finally spat it out.
A violent gush of juice splattered across the floor. Strangely, there was no glittering shine like stars left—only a plain, dark-blue liquid.
*Cough-Cough*
"What is your name, son," the mayor asked in a deep resonant tone.
"D-daniel dikson…" he stammered, wiping the remnants from the corner of his mouth.
"Please come forward and claim your scroll," the Mayor said with a warm smile.
Daniel walked toward to the table, his face twisted in lingering discomfort. The Mayor handed him the scroll and snipped his red thread with a pair of scissors.
Then, the priestess reached into her sleeve, pulled out a golden thread and tied it around his wrist—a clear sign that he had passed the first trial.
Meanwhile, a black-robed figure appeared with a floor swab and cleaned the mess while he collected his reward.
"May god bless you my child," the priestess said softly.
Daniel left the chamber and stepped outside.
The moment he crossed the threshold, a gentle bell rang from within.
…
Outside, the afternoon sun blazed high above his head. The streets buzzed with life.
*kh-pthoo*
Daniel spat. The saliva that hit the ground was dark blue, and his tongue was also blue.
"Shit, that juice is worse than I thought. *kh-pthoo* At least I passed the trial," he murmured. "Let's see what they gave me."
Daniel stepped into the sunlight and unrolled the scroll.
—————
By decree of the Trial Authority,
Be it known that you have successfully passed the First Trial, proving your resolve and worth where others have faltered.
This achievement has been duly recorded.
The path before you, however, does not end here.
You are hereby summoned to the Second Trial, which shall be conducted tomorrow at the town center, away from public eyes.
Time: 11:30 at the morning bell.
This trial will not only test your strength and wit, but also define the role you shall bear from this day forward.
Failure to appear shall be regarded as forfeiture.
May your resolve remain unbroken.
—————
In the bottom-right corner, the Mayor's signature was neatly inscribed in blueberry ink, topped by a light red wax seal shaped like an eagle's beak—a mark of official authority.
"Nice," he murmured under his breath.
*Grrrr…*
His stomach rumbled softly.
It was already afternoon, and the morning meal had long passed.
"Calm down for a second," he whispered, looking down at his belly.
Daniel tucked his scroll into his satchel and shifted his gaze north. But honestly, food sounded better than anything else right now.
"I should eat something first," he whispered, glancing toward the marketplace.
As he walked, the sweet scent of the bakery caught his attention.
*Sniff-Sniff*
He followed the scent without thinking twice.
The marketplace was full of energy—grocery stalls, butcher shops, restaurants and temporary street vendors lined the streets.
Surprisingly, there was no line outside the bakery. Even though the aroma of freshly baked bread was tempting enough to lure anyone from the street.
He entered with a warm, satisfied smile.
Inside, half of the seats were taken. People sat hunched back, some stuffing their mouths with a loaf of bread while sipping a glass of warm milk.
Behind the counter stood a chubby man, looking to be in his mid-fifties, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt, a red cloth tied around his waist, and a crisp white chef's cap on his head.
Daniel approached the counter, scanning the chalkboard menu hanging above.
———————
Common loaf of bread: one copper
Fine loaf of bread: three coppers
Plain biscuits: one copper
Sweet biscuits: three coppers
Fresh milk: two coppers
———————
"Hmm… excuse me, sir," Daniel said evenly.
"Yes, young man. How can I help you?" The baker replied with a friendly smile on his face.
"I would like to have one common loaf, one fine loaf and a fresh milk," he said, nodding toward the board. "And add some sugar to the milk. That's it."
"Are you dining in, or is it a go?"
"Dining, sir."
"Please have a seat, young man. Your food will be on the way."
Daniel turned and sat near the window table, a table with two chairs facing each other.
As he waited for his meal to arrive, a man approached carrying a glass cup.
"Hey man," he said.
Daniel looked up and recognized the person. It was Ray, a participant from the Ashken village.
"You mind if I sit here?"
"Ah… no… no at all… please have a seat," Daniel said politely.
Ray slid into the opposite chair. His gaze immediately dropped to the golden thread on Daniel's left wrist.
"Wait… you passed the trial?" he said, dumbfounded.
"Yea… " Daniel replied with a nod.
"What? How? I mean congratulations man… but seriously, how did you manage to hold that crap for so long?" Ray asked with a confused expression.
Daniel shrugged lightly. "Oh… it's just… I've tasted similar type of juice before. What about you?"
Ray narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the left. "What juice?"
"Huh? Didn't they teach you about—"
Daniel's words died mid-sentence as the waiter arrived with his meal.
"Here's your meal, sir," the waiter said firmly.