(Writer's Note: Let's pick up the pieces after that apocalyptic Colosseum clash, shall we? While our beloved, snarky protagonist is currently in a mana-induced coma, let's see what the competition is up to.)

  Everyone had frantically gathered around the two boys, hauling their battered bodies to the Medical Room for treatment. Drake woke up after some time. The terrifying Angel of Death was gone, replaced by a humbled boy. He turned his head and saw Ragna on the other bed, still completely unconscious.

  A soft smile broke across Drake's face. He reached up, took off his legendary golden armor, and unclasped his divine earrings, placing the mythical artifacts quietly near Ragna. Then, he grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote a letter.

  "Hey, Yang," Drake whispered to the empty air, addressing the ancient Progenitor Dragon resting within his core. "I think you should merge with him. He is more worthy of you than me. And I shall train in isolation from now on, I have known the meaning of true hard work."

  A deep, rumbling vibration echoed in the spiritual plane as the Yang Dragon replied.

  "Its is true that he is better but I think you will surpass him one day even if you don't, both of you are here to save this world. So this doesn't matter with whom I will stay." The Yang Dragon paused, its curiosity visibly piqued. "But... he looks amazing, he is interesting. I want to know about him, I want to know what kind of person he is. So I'll go now."

  With those parting words, a thick black smoke came out of Drake's body and went directly into Ragna's unconscious form.

  Drake walked away without telling anyone. As his silent footsteps faded down the hallway, it was absolutely clear he was not going to come back.

  Part 2: The Awakening (Ragna's Narration)

  (And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.)

  Ugh.

  Have you ever been hit by a magical truck carrying a payload of pure, unadulterated divine recoil? Because my brain felt like mashed potatoes, and my mana reserves were so completely drained they were practically echoing.

  It took a full week for my system to reboot. A week. All due to Pinaka's unbearable power. I had exhausted my entire mana into that one single shot. (Note to self: Do not use mythical bows as casual shields or artillery unless you want to sleep for a long time. The logistics are a nightmare.)

  I slowly peeled my eyes open. The sterile light of the Medical Room stabbed into my retinas.

  "Ah... why does my entire existence hurt?" I groaned.

  My vision blurred, then slowly snapped into focus. And when it did, my CEO-instincts immediately flared up. Crowd control required. I saw many people surrounding me, a lot of them my own age. It looked like a VIP networking event, except everyone was staring at me like I was a zoo exhibit that had just woken up from tranquilizers.

  I scanned the room, recognizing them one by one.

  I recognized the heavy hitters first. There was my mom, Serelya, looking deeply relieved. My dad, Akira, was standing tall, and my grandpa Kiritsuga(apparantly he is nice now. Wow.) was there too, alongside Celestia.

  And then there was the younger demographic. My sister Leonica looked like she was half a second away from tackling me with a hug, and Starlia, the arrogant princess, was lingering right there with her.

  But there were new faces, too. Top-tier Academy disciples who must have come to scope out the guy who just broke the power scaling system. Jade Tempest was there, alongside Lior Varythys, Azra Velkryss, and Nyra Emberlyn.

  (Are you kidding me? Did the entire elite roster decide to hold their morning board meeting in my hospital room?)

  I let out a heavy sigh, dropping my head back against the pillows.

  "Alright," I rasped, offering the crowded room my best, most perfectly calibrated sarcastic smirk. "I'm awake. You can all stop staring now. Admission tickets for the 'Ragna Survival Tour' are ten Royal Gold coins each. Line forms to the left."

  My little joke about selling admission tickets landed with a resounding thud. But before anyone could comment on my terrible sense of humor, my eyes drifted over to the bedside table.

  Sitting right there, gleaming under the harsh medical lights, was a pile of ridiculously shiny loot. Specifically, a set of intricate golden armor and some extremely flashy earrings, accompanied by a folded piece of parchment.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  My capitalist instincts instantly overrode my physical pain. I reached out and snatched up the letter.

  "For Ragna Crimson," I read quietly to myself.

  "I have left one of the souvenirs, the Armour and the Earrings of the legendary warrior Karn, the son of the Sun God. I think it would suit you better. You are worthy of it."

  (Oh, sure. Just casually leaving me the divine gear of a mythical demigod on my nightstand like it's a fruit basket. Classic Drake. Let's see what else he says.)

  "And also I'm going to be stronger than you. Let's have another competition of Who kills the Demon King. I'll meet you again on the battlefield. When I earlier saw you, I thought how can a demon become a hero but I guess I was wrong and yeah Yang is too with you."

  Wait. Hold on. Rewind that last sentence.

  Yang is too with you?

  "What the—?" I muttered, whipping my head to the right.

  And there, literally emerging from the space right behind my own body, was a massive, spectral dragon head, casually peeking over my shoulder to read the letter with me.

  The giant disembodied head let out a heavy sigh.

  "How emotional," the Yang Dragon rumbled, his voice echoing weirdly in the sterile room. "Though I can't cry. You see I don't have water in my body so I can't have tears. I am a half-spirit after all."

  My brain completely short-circuited. My cool, collected CEO composure? Gone. The snark? Evaporated.

  "A ghost!!" I screamed, scrambling backward against the pillows in absolute panic. "A freaking Dragon ghost!!!"

  "Hey, kid calm down," the terrifying apparition grumbled, looking completely unfazed by my meltdown. "I'm not a ghost, I'm—"

  WHAM.

  Pure, unfiltered survival instincts kicked in. Before he could finish his sentence, I threw a desperate hook and punched the spectral deity right in the snout.

  "Oof!" Yang recoiled, his glowing eyes narrowing into a glare. "Now you're pissing me off. Stop now!" he yelled.

  I froze, my fist still suspended in the air. The black smoke, the heavy, suffocating aura... the puzzle pieces finally clicked together in my groggy brain.

  "Oh," I said, blinking as my heart rate slowly returned to double digits. "So it's you."

  (Great. Because carrying around Phiona and Mizuki in my spiritual space wasn't enough of a headache. Now we're a trio. My core is officially a divine bed and breakfast.)

  I cleared my throat, desperately trying to salvage whatever dignity I had left in front of my family and the elite disciples watching me fight the air.

  I looked past the annoyed dragon head and addressed the packed room. "So, what you all are doing here?" I asked.

  Celestia stepped forward, crossing her arms and looking thoroughly unimpressed by my impromptu boxing match with a Progenitor Dragon.

  "You were unconscious for a week," she said flatly. "We were worried."

  I stared at the crowd of powerhouses crammed into my hospital room like sardines in a very expensive, very judgmental can. A week. I’d been out for a whole week, and apparently, the first thing I decided to do upon waking up was try to shadowbox a Progenitor Dragon.

  Smooth, Ragna. Real smooth.

  "A week!" I blurted out, the sheer length of time making my head spin.

  Beside me, or rather, inside me, the massive spectral head of the Yang Dragon drifted through the headboard of my bed. He looked bored, which is an impressive feat for a disembodied dragon head.

  "Don’t overreact," Yang hissed, his voice a low vibration that only I seemed to fully feel. He leaned in closer, his snout inches from my ear. "You're making a scene."

  I leaned away, trying to keep my lips from moving too much. "At least let me act like I don't know anything," I whispered back frantically.

  Yang let out a snort that smelled faintly of ozone and ancient ego. "Your acting was painful," he rumbled.

  I ignored him, turning my attention back to the gallery of legends currently judging my life choices. My gaze drifted over the faces I hadn't seen in forever.

  "Hey, Nyra, Lior, Azra, Jade... you're all here too," I said, trying to inject a bit of casual 'hey-long-time-no-see' energy into the room. "It’s been a while."

  Nyra Emberlyn, didn't look like she wanted a hug. She stood there, her pink hair practically vibrating with suppressed energy. Behind her, the others just nodded solemnly, like they were attending a funeral I had inconveniently survived.

  "We thought you were dead," Nyra said, her voice dropping into a dangerous register. "But you survived." Her eyes suddenly flashed with a terrifying, childish rage. "And you didn't even think about meeting us? Hey, you brat! I’ll show you exactly what I’ve learned in these years!"

  I felt a cold sweat break out.

  Nyra Emberlyn. The half-dragon born from the union of a True Dragon and a human. She's extremely strong, a total muscle-head, and honestly? Kind of a brat herself. Sorry, Nyra, but it's true.

  Before I could offer a diplomatic apology, Lior Varythys stepped forward. He had that "cool older brother who might actually kill you" vibe going on.

  "Hey, mate. Been years," Lior said, his eyes scanning me with clinical precision. He looked disappointed. "I think you’re too weak right now. Otherwise, I would have punched you right in the guts for staying away so long."

  Lior Varythys. The Primordial of Blue's Descendant. He’s famous for his insane control over water and lightning magic. Powerful, wise, and apparently still has a grudge against my internal organs. Sorry, Lior.

  Then there was Azra Velkryss. He didn't say much. He didn't have to. He just stood there with an expression that could peel paint off the walls.

  "I really want you to be eaten by shadows," Azra muttered, his voice flat and haunting.

  I swallowed hard. My "bed and breakfast" core was getting crowded, my friends wanted to beat me into a pulp, and I was pretty sure the hospital was going to charge me extra for the "Dragon Ghost" occupancy.

  Jade Tempest didn't let him have the last word. "I hope the winds take you away with its might and throw you out of this world," she added.

  Azra Velkryss. The Primordial of Black's Descendant. Known for his control over darkness and a master of shadow and dark magic. Extremely clever. And Jade Tempest. The Primordial of Green's Descendant. Known for his complete control over wind and nature. He can even talk with the spirits of nature like Dryads. High in battle IQ.

  "Sorry!" I apologised loudly to stop them from throwing another threat.