I let out a long, exhausted breath, tossing my spatial bag onto one of the velvet sofas. The adrenaline was finally leaving my system, replaced by that familiar, deep-bone ache of severe mana depletion.
Starlia stood across from me, her arms crossed, her purplish-pink eyes fixed on me with laser intensity. The arrogant, untouchable Princess of Alzaria was gone, replaced by a twelve-year-old girl who looked completely and utterly bewildered.
"Alright," I sighed, running a hand through my messy white hair. I was about to execute the biggest corporate disclosure of my current life. (Deep breath, Ragna. Time for the PR re-branding). "So, um... let's start it from my real, full name."
Starlia tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
Before I could launch into my tragic backstory, the door burst open.
"Ragna!"
"Starlia!"
We both jumped and turned toward the sound. Celestia and Serelya rushed into the room.
The moment Starlia saw her blonde tutor, her entire demeanor flipped. The composed, demanding royal completely vanished, instantly replaced by a bouncing, excited kid.
"Serelya! Did you see that?!" Starlia practically squealed, running over and pointing back at me like I was a shiny new toy she just unwrapped. "He defeated all three of them! Alone!"
(Inner monologue: Oh, so now I'm awesome? Ten minutes ago I was a 'lowly commoner' who needed to stay out of her way. The absolute whiplash of royal approval, I swear.)
Serelya didn't say anything at first. She just looked at me. And to my absolute shock, her piercing blue eyes—the ones that matched mine so perfectly—were welling up with tears.
"Yes," Serelya whispered, her voice thick with an emotion I couldn't quite place. "I did."
Celestia walked over to me, stopping at my side and crossing her arms. She looked at me with a soft, supportive smile. "I thought you would not let her know," she murmured quietly.
"I guess I should tell her everything now," I replied, shrugging off my Azure Frost jacket and tossing it next to my bag. Secrets are tactical advantages, sure, but keeping my own teammate in the dark after I just blew up a stadium to save her is bad for team synergy.
"It's your choice," Celestia said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I am with you."
Starlia marched back over, planting her hands on her hips, her curiosity burning brighter than a Phoenix spell. "So what was it? Your real name."
I stood up straight, meeting her gaze dead-on. Time to drop the nuke.
"I am... Ragna Crimson," I stated, my voice steady and cold. "Of the well-known, half-demon Noble family, Crimson."
Starlia gasped, her eyes going wide. But before she could formulate a response, I delivered the punchline.
"Also officially known in their records as the 'Failure' of the Crimson family."
Across the room, the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. I glanced over at Serelya. The warm, teary-eyed tutor was gone. Her expression had hardened into a glare so utterly terrifying, so filled with raw, murderous intent, that for a split second, my danger instincts actually flared.
(Note to self: The HR lady is secretly terrifying. Why does my family name make her look like she wants to burn a continent down?)
I ignored the chilling glare and turned back to Starlia, keeping my tone perfectly conversational, like I was discussing the weather.
"At the age of six, I was dumped into the Death Forest for not having a core," I explained. "Banishment. One-way ticket."
Starlia’s jaw literally dropped. The math wasn't mathing in her genius brain. "Then... how do you have one now? How did you do all that out there?"
"Efficiency and sheer spite, mostly," I smirked. "I had started learning sword arts at the mere age of four. I mastered them by the time I was five and a half. My dad, Akira Crimson, was happy with my progress. When I was banished, he secretly granted me a True Dragon scale and a True Phoenix wing to help me survive."
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
I tapped the center of my chest, right over where my heart and my dual-cores hummed.
"I couldn't use magic. So, I used basic physics and biological pressure(of course they didn't understand what I mean). I forced them together. I made a core out of them myself at the age of eight, and successfully merged the two divine essences inside my own soul."
I crossed my arms, letting the absolute absurdity of my own resume sink in. "Then, at the age of twelve, I escaped the forest with a Cultivation Level of Qi Refinement Stage 3 and an Elemento Draco-Phoenix core."
Starlia stared at me. Her royal etiquette completely blue-screened. Her jaw unhinged, and the poised, arrogant Princess vanished.
"You gotta be kiddin' me," she breathed, absolutely shell-shocked.
"There's no need for that," I replied smoothly, adjusting my collar. Facts are facts.
Then, Serelya spoke.
The terrifying, murderous glare she had given me just moments ago was completely gone. In its place was an intense, devastatingly serious focus.
"You said that you are the son of Akira Crimson," she said softly, her voice carrying a strange tremor. "But what about your mother? Who is she?"
(Inner monologue time. Wait. I forgot to tell you guys about my biological mother, didn't I? Honestly, even I don't remember her. I never saw her. Dad always dodged the question, just saying that she 'protects the people of this kingdom more than he ever could.' I never really felt sad about it because, logically, she sounded like a badass workaholic. My kind of people. Dad always said my piercing blue eyes were exactly like hers, though he used to look at my white hair with a bit of fear... which makes total sense now, thanks to the whole Death Incarnate lineage. But my mother? A mystery).
I looked back at the blonde tutor. "I don't know who she is. Dad never really told me."
Serelya let out a shaky breath, her composure cracking. "So you don't know who your mother is," she whispered.
Then, her eyes flashed with a sudden, furious spark. She looked away, muttering fiercely under her breath, "Hm... Akira! Why didn't you tell me about all this that's happening?!"
I blinked. Why is she mad at my dad? Does she know him from the PTA or something?
Serelya turned back to me and closed the distance between us. The imposing, elegant Royal Tutor vanished. She just looked... fragile. And incredibly gentle. Tears were pooling in her electric blue eyes—eyes that were an exact, perfect mirror of my own.
"Let me tell you, child," she said, her voice dropping to a soft, broken whisper. She reached out, her trembling hands hovering over my shoulders. "That I... Serelya Valen..."
She took a ragged breath.
"...the Holy Knight of Destruction, am your mother."
My brain completely shut down. The CEO operating system crashed. Error 404: Logic Not Found.
Wait. Run that back. Serelya Valen. The Holy Knight of Destruction. The armored warrior who is said to be sitting next to the King in the Colosseum in every entrance exam(before Jase, who appeared this time)... the one Celestia explicitly told me was a woman in full armor! And the woman standing in front of me with my eyes. The inexplicable, familiar magnetic pull I felt the very second she walked into this room earlier today... it wasn't just magic. It was biology. It was DNA.
Before I could even reboot my vocal cords, she stepped forward and pulled me into a desperate, crushing hug.
The pragmatic, sarcastic wall I had built up over six years of eating dirt, calculating odds, and fighting monsters instantly shattered. The smell of her adamantite armor, the absolute, undeniable warmth of her embrace... it bypassed every single defensive stat I possessed.
"Mother," I choked out, the word feeling foreign and perfect at the same time.
Tears spilled over my eyelashes, running hot down my face. What is this feeling? I thought, my hands gripping the fabric of her cape. It is so familiar, but it's like it was lost for centuries. I buried my face in her shoulder, finally letting myself be the twelve-year-old kid I was supposed to be.
Off to the side, Starlia was experiencing a critical system failure of her own.
"Ragna's... your son?!" she shrieked, looking between us like her entire reality had just been flipped upside down. The "lowly commoner" she had been insulting all day was the flesh and blood of her own Royal Tutor.
Serelya pulled back just enough to look at the Princess. The tears were still streaming down her face, but she offered a fiercely proud, radiant smile.
"Yes, my lady," Serelya said softly. "And I am proud of that."
Some time later.
(Because even family reunions have to yield to the tournament arc. Writer's fault, not mine).
I wiped my face, snapped my emotional armor back into place, and checked my cores. It was time for the final battle.
The emotional reunion was over. The tears were dried, the truth was out, and my cores were fully recharged.
It was time for the final battle.
Starlia and I walked out onto the sands of the Colosseum, our footsteps synchronized. After the absolute spectacle we had put on in our previous matches, the crowd was practically vibrating with anticipation. I’ll admit, we looked good. The white-haired "commoner" in Azure Frost and the Golden Princess of Alzaria. We walked in with the kind of untouchable confidence usually reserved for billionaires closing a hostile takeover.
But as my eyes locked onto our final opponents, my confident stride faltered for a fraction of a second.
It was a boy and a girl.
The boy had dark brown hair and dull, brown eyes. He was walking coldly, his posture entirely slouched. But it wasn't his posture that bothered me; it was his signature. My Spirit Sense swept over him and returned... nothing.
Error 404: Life Force Not Found. It was the most bizarre sensation. Looking at him felt like looking at empty space. He had no ambient body heat, no fluctuating mana rhythm. He felt as if nothing was there—as if the boy was just a walking corpse.
Is my scanner glitched? I thought, shaking my head to clear the creeping unease. Whatever. I'll ignore it. Maybe it's just my imagination playing tricks on me after a highly emotional afternoon.
I shifted my focus to the girl beside him.
She was the complete opposite. Where the boy was a void, she was a localized blizzard. She had a chilling, porcelain face, hair a bright, icy light blue, and eyes that matched. Just looking at her made the ambient temperature around us drop several degrees.
The referee raised his hand. The massive amplification array buzzed.
"Begin!"