The legendary powerhouses of the human race looked up at the figure standing proudly at the peak of the heavens, their eyes moist with tears.
The human race had endured endless hardship, carving out a path of survival through thorns and blood. Only after generations of sages sacrificed themselves in devotion had humanity barely managed to squeeze into the lowest ranks of the myriad races.
Yet due to its innate weakness, the race had always been suppressed at the very bottom of the chain of contempt.
Even a mere Mythic Trial required humanity to pour in all of its top combat forces. Every single time, they had no choice but to fight to the death. Otherwise, death itself would be a small matter; the true disaster would be drawing the backlash of the rules, weakening the very foundation of the race.
Often, after a single round of trials ended, fewer than one in ten human powerhouses survived. Humanity would suffer a devastating loss of strength.
