The air trembled.
The Primordial Dragon had awakened — its presence spreading through the cavern like an invisible storm.
Its voice wasn't heard by ears, but within the soul itself — deep, resonant, ancient.
"So...you are the one who carries my thread.
The reincarnated soul born under divine defiance..."
The voice rumbled across the void, calm yet heavy with divine authority.
Every word carried the weight of countless ages.
"Hmm..... what is this? Your past memories — shattered?
Then how will you fight them now?"
Ryouma's body froze.
The dragon's gaze bore down on him — a pressure so immense it felt like the entire world was collapsing onto his shoulders.
His knees threatened to buckle, yet his spirit refused to yield.
Black and violet qi flared around him, clashing violently against the dragon's overwhelming aura.
From behind him, Takeshi stirred weakly, his voice trembling.
"Big brother..... stop..... you'll die....."
But Ryouma didn't retreat.
His breath came ragged, his heart blazing with something far stronger than fear.
"I don't know how you know about my reincarnation... or my memories," he shouted, voice echoing through the hollow chamber.
"But if you're the one who's been calling me all these years — then tell me! Why me!? Why these dreams!? Why this power!?"
The dragon's massive eyes blinked once, slow and deliberate.
Then, a deep thunderous laugh rolled through the cave — a sound so ancient it shook the stones themselves.
"Then show me, child.
Show me the blood of the Mist Dragon that flows within you.
Prove that you carry the bloodline of the Ancient One.
If you can — I shall tell you everything.
Even the fragments of your shattered memories...
and who you truly were in the past."
Without warning, the cavern exploded with raw pressure.
The ground cracked, the air distorted, and Ryouma was hurled backward. He gritted his teeth, forcing his trembling body to rise again.
Qi and mana raged through him like a storm ready to devour itself.
Blood trickled down his lip as he whispered hoarsely,
"I won't kneel..... not again..."
He drew upon everything within — mana, qi, and aura — synchronizing them into one perfect flow.
The air rippled. His entire body glowed with black and violet light, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
For the first time, the dragon's eyes widened — ever so slightly.
> "Interesting..... you've inherited not only strength..... but defiance."
The dragon's claw descended — slow, heavy, divine, like a mountain shifting to crush him.
Ryouma roared and charged forward, his fist enveloped in that same violent light.
When their powers collided, the world itself seemed to shatter.
The explosion tore the cavern apart, waves of energy rippling through the mist and stone.
For a moment, there was nothing but blinding light and roaring wind.
Then, silence.
The dragon blinked slowly.
After a long pause, its deep voice returned — steady, almost approving.
"Enough. You have proven your resolve."
The crushing pressure vanished at once.
Ryouma collapsed to one knee, gasping for air, his aura flickering weakly.
The dragon's colossal head lowered until its golden eyes met his — then, in a flash of radiant gold, the massive form began to change.
Wings folded inward. Scales dissolved into light.
Before Ryouma now stood a tall, regal man — long hair shimmering like molten gold, eyes glowing with eternal flame.
"You must have realized it by now," the figure said, his tone deep and resonant.
"I am the King of Dragons — the one all beings call the Primordial Dragon.
My name... is Ragna."
He paused, his gaze softening — for the first time, there was warmth behind those divine eyes.
"I have watched this world since its birth..... and through its countless destructions.
I once saw you — in the era long forgotten — and waited for your return.
But I did not expect your memories to be this fractured."
Ryouma stared up at him, still breathing hard — his mind spinning with the weight of what he had just heard.
The truth he had been seeking for years was finally beginning to unravel.....
but deep down, he knew — this was only the beginning.
The silence in the cavern stretched endlessly — until Ryouma's trembling voice finally broke it.
"You said….. me? Why was I the one chosen?"
Ragna's golden eyes narrowed. His voice, deep and calm, carried the echo of countless centuries.
"Because you were the only one who could.
You once held the power to stand against those beings.
But now...… you are incomplete.
Your body is not whole, and your memories— fractured."
He paused. For the first time, faint sorrow flickered in those ageless eyes.
"Your memories are shattered, so you might not even remember who they were — the ones I speak of."
Before Ryouma could speak again, Ragna tilted his head slightly.
A ripple of energy shimmered in the air, flowing around Ryouma's body like a whispering current.
"Wait…..this energy— it's not the Mist Dragon's alone," Ragna murmured.
"Ryouma, do you feel it? A second current within your veins?
Something..… foreign?"
Ryouma frowned, frustration flashing in his eyes.
"You were just talking about those beings, and now you change the topic? Enough— answer me first!"
Ragna's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
"Patience, boy. Everything connects."
He stepped closer, studying Ryouma carefully. His gaze sharpened.
"Hmm..… I see it now. Your hair— it's not purely black.
There are streaks of red. And your left eye..… crimson."
Ryouma blinked, confused.
"So what? What's that supposed to mean?"
Ragna folded his arms, thoughtful.
"In a Mist Dragon bloodline, one trait is constant — black hair, black eyes. Even if your mother belonged to another tribe, you'd inherit only minor traits — perhaps a beastman's tail, or sharper vision.
But your hair's red hue….. and that crimson eye — that can only mean one thing."
He leaned forward slightly, voice low and deliberate.
"Your mother must have belonged to a race equal to dragons in power."
Ryouma froze. "You mean….. my mother..… belonged to a race equal to dragons?"
Ragna nodded slowly.
"Indeed. Wait….. let me confirm something."
He lifted his hand. Golden light flared, wrapping Ryouma in a sphere of divine energy.
For a few tense moments, the light pulsed and hummed. Then Ragna's eyes widened — and he laughed, a deep, thunderous sound that shook the cavern walls.
"Hahahaha! So that's what it was! Now I understand why she said those words to me back then! I thought it was impossible — but now it all makes sense!"
Ryouma scowled, suspicion rising.
"You're laughing? After all that? What's going on? What are you hiding this time?"
Ragna composed himself, his laughter fading into a mysterious smile.
"Nothing to fear, boy. That second energy within you — when its time comes, it will awaken on its own.
And when it does..… you'll understand everything."
Ryouma narrowed his eyes.
"You're hiding something again. What are you not telling me?"
Ragna's tone softened, solemn and unyielding.
"The truth will reveal itself when you are ready. For now, listen carefully."
He raised his palm. The air shimmered, and golden light filled the chamber, painting the walls with scenes of distant ages.
Ryouma watched in silence as visions unfolded — of towering beings, endless skies, and worlds yet unformed.
"Long before humankind drew its first breath," Ragna began, his voice deep and distant,
"there existed an entity beyond the gods — the Architect, the God of the Gods.
From the Architect's will, both we Dragons and the Celestial Beings were born."
The light shifted — showing great dragons soaring above oceans of fire, and radiant figures descending from the heavens.
"We, the Celestial Dragons, were tasked to protect this planet — to maintain the balance of life.
The Celestial Beings were chosen to guide and nurture humanity."
His expression darkened, a shadow of memory passing across his features.
"But their hearts were consumed by greed. They sought dominion over all — twisting the Architect's purpose into their own desire for power.
The war that followed nearly tore the world apart."
The vision changed again — endless skies aflame, gods and dragons locked in combat, continents crumbling beneath divine wrath.
"In the end, the other gods intervened.
The Celestial Beings were sealed away — their essence buried deep beneath creation itself."
Ragna turned his gaze back to Ryouma, his golden eyes burning.
"That seal is weakening again.
And you — the one who once stood against them without fear — are the only soul capable of doing so again.
That is why you were chosen."
Ryouma stood frozen. The words echoed inside his mind like the toll of a distant bell.
The dreams. The visions. The whispers that had haunted him for years — all of it began to make sense.
Suddenly, images flooded his mind — screams, flames, the scent of blood and ash.
He saw a woman's silhouette reaching for him, her face hidden in light.
Then, the world burning.
And finally — darkness.
Ryouma gasped, clutching his head as pain tore through him.
"That woman..… that war….. those screams…..." he whispered. "They weren't dreams…..."
His knees buckled as realization struck.
He had lived those memories.
He had fought in that war.
And he had died.
The memories weren't gone.
They were waiting — waiting for him to remember.