Carrying the invisible, hundred-kilo weight of a dormant divine bow in my soul, I sprinted back through the silent Academy grounds to the medical ward. I slipped quietly into my room and laid myself down on the bed just before the sun peeked over the horizon.

  ~ In the Morning ~

  (Narrator Mode off. I'm too tired for dramatic transitions.)

  Starlia and I woke up at the exact same time. As I blinked the sleep out of my glowing blue eyes, I noticed Serelya was already there, walking close to our beds.

  She looked down at us with a warm, gentle smile.

  "Good Morning," Serelya said.

  Starlia sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes, the arrogant royal momentarily replaced by a groggy kid. "Good Morning, Serelya," she mumbled.

  I stretched my stiff muscles, feeling the lingering ache of yesterday's mana depletion. "Good Morning, I suppose," I replied.

  Serelya turned her full attention to me. The Holy Knight's facade dropped entirely, replaced by the profound, unfiltered pride of a mother. "You know what happened yesterday," she said softly to me. "You awakened your transformation at such a young age."

  (Ah yes, the Blue Origin. A hostile takeover of my own cellular structure that ended with me plummeting out of the sky. Good times.)

  Beside me, Starlia visibly bristled. The competitive genius inside her woke up instantly. She looked highly jealous at the praise being directed at me.

  "So what," Starlia huffed, crossing her arms defensively. "I too can do that. I'll learn how to do it in a few days."

  I looked at the Princess. (Honestly? A twelve-year-old trying to brute-force a True Demon progenitor transformation out of sheer competitive spite? That is a biological hazard waiting to happen.)

  "It... would be hard for you," I stated calmly, offering a pragmatic assessment. "As it needs you to be calm, and you have to believe in your body."

  Starlia’s eyes narrowed into a fierce glare. "What do you mean?" she demanded, clearly annoyed by my lack of faith in her.

  I didn't even blink. "I didn't mean that," I clarified smoothly. "I mean that you are always annoyed by your ego, my Princess."

  (Corporate translation: Your superiority complex is a massive bottleneck to your workflow, your highness.)

  Starlia looked even more annoyed, her face flushing with aristocratic indignation. She took a deep breath, her hands clenching the bedsheets, visibly forcing herself to hold back a royal tirade.

  "Oh, really," she snapped, her tone icy. "I'm not saying anything to you as you have done more than my expectations."

  (Translation: You acted as a highly efficient human shield and saved my life yesterday, so I will temporarily suspend your execution for insubordination).

  "...and you will be delighted to know," Starlia continued, lifting her chin regally, "that I give permission to you to call me Starlia."

  I offered a perfectly calibrated, entirely sarcastic bow. "I'm honored, Princess."

  (Inner monologue: I literally called you Starlia while saving you from becoming a royal pancake yesterday, but sure. Let's pretend this is a monumental, groundbreaking privilege). Before she could critique my etiquette any further, the door to the ward burst open.

  "Brother! Are you okay?!"

  Leonica came running into the room, looking frantically between the bandages and my face. Once she verified I was in one piece, her gaze shifted to the girl sitting on the bed next to me.

  "And Lia," Leonica said softly, her tone completely lacking the usual aristocratic formalities. "Are you okay too?"

  I blinked, my brain momentarily buffering. Lia? Starlia—the arrogant, untouchable Princess who just threw a fit over me using her first name—actually dropped her guard. She offered my sister a genuine, warm smile.

  "Yes," Starlia smiled. "I am happy, Leo, that you are here."

  (Hold up. 'Lia' and 'Leo'? They have nicknames for each other? I suppose the elite noble houses and the royal family mingle often, but hearing the name 'Lia' out loud... especially after what Arya showed me on that beach... it hit a little too close to home. I pushed the thought down. Compartmentalize, Ragna). "I'm as strong as I've always been, Sis," I assured her, swinging my legs over the edge of the cot.

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

  Leonica let out a heavy breath, her shoulders dropping. "I'm relieved to hear that," she sighed. Then, her competitive energy snapped right back into place. "If you are both feeling good, then let's go! The announcement is being made for the selected disciples and the Top 10 rank holders!"

  Starlia and I exchanged a quick glance.

  "Alright, coming," we said in unison.

  ~ A Short While Later ~

  Starlia and Leonica walked ahead, chatting amiably as we made our way back toward the Colosseum. I, however, started walking a bit late, lingering behind to adjust my Azure Frost jacket and mentally prepare myself for the crowd.

  As I strolled down one of the quieter, tree-lined paths of the Academy grounds, something caught my eye.

  Sleeping under the shade of a large, autumnal tree was an old man. He was slouched against the trunk, snoring softly, and casually holding a half-empty bottle of wine in his hand.

  He surely is a drunkard, I thought, raising an eyebrow. But what is he doing here? The Academy security is incredibly tight right now.

  I stopped walking, analyzing the scene. My CEO-instincts were tingling. I felt like I was missing something crucial.

  I looked closer at his clothes. They were worn and slightly wrinkled from sleeping in the dirt, but the fabric and the stitching... they looked incredibly expensive.

  Then I looked at his hair. It was mostly a distinguished, silvery grey, but the very ends of his hair were a striking, vibrant sky-blue. (Wait. Snow-white hair with sky-blue tips... isn't that the exact same genetic color palette as Crystalia de' Razillia, the Strongest Imperial Disciple?)

  Despite his slouched posture, his appearance radiated a strange, quiet strength. He was a handsome old man, and his weathered face gave off the distinct, heavy feeling of a long-lost warrior.

  Curiosity got the better of me. Let's see what the system says. I focused my eyes on him and activated the skill I had looted from the ape dungeon.

  "Status Peek."

  A translucent blue interface flickered into existence in front of my eyes. I waited for the text to populate his Cultivation Level, his name, his core type.

  Instead, the blue window glitched violently. The text scrambled into unintelligible symbols, flashed red, and then completely shattered.

  Error. Target Analysis Failed. I actually took a physical step back, utterly shocked. It failed? The skill was designed to read anything. For it to fail meant his level was either so astronomically high that my Stage 3 Qi couldn't process the math, or he was passively emitting an anti-appraisal aura in his sleep.

  I glanced toward the Colosseum. The distant roar of the crowd reminded me of the time. I'll be late for the rankings if I stay here staring at a sleeping demigod, I decided.

  I turned to leave, but I couldn't resist. Just one last time, I reached out with my Spirit Sense, trying to feel his passive aura without using the system.

  I reached out with my Spirit Sense, trying to brush against his dormant energy without relying on the system.

  The moment my spiritual probe made contact, a devastating force physically slammed into me. I was violently pushed back a few steps, my boots skidding against the dirt.

  What the hell? I thought, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was genuinely shocked to sense an aura that profoundly devastating coming from a man just taking a nap under a tree.

  I didn't linger to ask questions. I turned and ran all the way to the Colosseum, not wanting to miss the results.

  As I entered the massive arena, the announcer's magically amplified voice had already started booming across the restless crowd.

  "Good morning, everyone standing here, and congratulations! You are the ones selected from thousands," the announcer declared. "This was a record-breaking year for us, as this batch is full of absolute geniuses. This year, 40 disciples have been chosen!"

  The crowd erupted into cheers, but the announcer raised a hand, demanding silence.

  "And from those forty," the voice continued, raising the stakes, "the Top 10 will get to choose their own masters! Now, I will be naming those elite disciples from the 10th to the 1st rank!"

  I crossed my arms, ready to hear my name called early so I could go find that bakery.

  "10th Rank: Elysia Frostvale!"

  "9th Rank: Valerius Cinder!"

  "8th Rank: Azra Velkryss!"

  "7th Rank: Lior Varythys!"

  "6th Rank: Jade Tempest!"

  "5th Rank: Nyra Emberlyn!"

  "4th Rank: Alita Cosmos!"

  "3rd Rank: Leonica Blades!"

  "And the 2nd Rank holder... Starlia Lesse!"

  I stood there, blinking. The 2nd rank had passed. My name hadn't been called.

  Wait. Did I get bumped out of the top ten entirely? Did they deduct points for property damage? Was the nuke too much? I let out a heavy, disappointed sigh. "No way I am in," I muttered, turning my back to the podium and starting to walk away.

  Suddenly, the announcer's professional tone faltered. He sounded completely baffled over the loudspeakers, reading from the final parchment.

  "Um... I don't know who this person is who came out from nowhere on the top," the announcer stammered, confusion echoing across the Colosseum. "There's no famous family attached to this file, and apparently only a sister in his family... but the person who bested among the best... is Ragna!"

  I froze mid-step. A massive, overjoyed grin broke across my face.

  "Really?!" I cheered, spinning back around. First place. Corporate dominance established. The system works.

  Leonica came running through the crowd, practically tackling me with excitement. Not far behind her, Starlia Lesse walked over, looking completely awestruck. The 'lowly commoner' she had tried to bench had just outranked the Genius of the Century.

  Starlia quickly composed herself, her royal etiquette masking her shock. She offered a competitive smile.

  "I think you were good," Starlia conceded, though her ego refused to fully surrender the crown. "But don't think you are better than me."

  Serelya stepped up beside the Princess. "We should go, Starlia," she said gently, before turning her piercing blue eyes to me. The Holy Knight offered a soft, deeply maternal smile. "And yes... I am proud of you."

  Before I could bask in the praise, Leonica tugged violently on my sleeve. She was breathing heavily, her face pale with sudden panic.

  "Huff... Ragna..." Leonica gasped, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes. "You know, bro... Grandpa is here."

  Before I could even process Leonica's warning, the air a few feet away from us violently warped. A magical door tore open in the middle of the crowd, and out stepped the Patriarch of the Crimson family himself.

  Kiritsuga Crimson.