I reached the stone. It was roughly the height of an average person, standing silent and imposing in the center of the stage.

  But when I got close enough to see the surface... my heart stopped.

  I wasn't shocked because of its size. I was shocked because of the characters written on it.

  "These aren't 'weird characters'," I whispered, my voice trembling.

  It was Sanskrit.

  There was a mantra written on it. A specific prayer to one of the Hindu Gods. The God of Destruction. The Transformer.

  Shiva.

  It was written clearly in the Devanagari script:

  || ? ??? ????? ||

  (Om Namah Shivaya)

  It wasn't written just once. It was carved thousands of times, overlapping and spiraling all over the rock surface, creating a texture of pure devotion.

  Then I stepped back and realized its shape. It wasn't just a random rock.

  It was a Shivalinga.

  It glowed with a faint, holy white light that bordered on golden. A lady, likely an exam proctor, was standing near it, holding a clipboard.

  "Boy," she said, her voice cutting through my daze. "Please put your hand on the stone."

  I didn't move immediately. I couldn't.

  In my past life, I was Indian. I knew what this was. You don't just walk up and high-five a Shivalinga like it's a piece of furniture. That is the embodiment of the Destroyer.

  I waited for a moment to compose myself. The air around me felt heavy with a sudden, spiritual pressure.

  Slowly, deliberately, I joined my palms together.

  Namaste.

  I closed my eyes and bowed my head in deep prayer.

  The audience murmured.

  "What is he doing?"

  "Is he sleeping?"

  "Look at him, he's acting like some kind of alien."

  The whispers crawled over my skin, but I didn't care. Let them stare. Let them think I'm weird. I knew what I was doing. I knew who I was standing before.

  I opened my eyes. I stepped forward.

  I reached out and placed my hand on the Shivalinga.

  Before my hand could even make contact with the cold stone of the Linga, a sound resonated—not in the air, but directly inside my skull.

  "So, you have made it, Ragna Crimson."

  The voice was deep, ancient, and carried a weight that made my knees buckle slightly. It wasn't hostile, but it commanded absolute attention.

  My head snapped up. I looked past the stone, past the announcer, straight to the throne on the King's left.

  The white-haired man—the one who looked like a terrifying, older version of me—was staring right back. His blue eyes locked onto mine.

  "Is this... you?" I projected the thought, hoping telepathy worked on intent.

  "Yes," the voice echoed back instantly. "For now, go on. I will talk to you when it is time."

  I swallowed hard. When it is time. Ominous. But I had a job to do.

  I placed my palm firmly on the rough surface of the Shiva Linga.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened. The crowd held its breath. I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my neck.

  Then—

  BOOM.

  It wasn't a sound; it was an eruption of light. A blinding, golden radiance exploded from the stone, engulfing the entire podium. It wasn't the standard Blue or Red. It was pure, holy Gold.

  The audience gasped collectively. The proctor shielded her eyes.

  I looked up through the golden haze. The white-haired man on the throne was smiling.

  And that smile... it changed everything. The terrifying scowl vanished, replaced by a look so gentle, so kind, it felt like forgiveness. It felt like he was proud of me.

  Then, the light faded.

  The proctor blinked, clearly shaken. "Uh... Participant 1001. You may... go."

  She didn't announce "Pass" or "Fail." She just looked confused.

  I stepped down from the podium, my mind racing. Golden light? Telepathic doppelgangers? What is happening?

  I walked back into the crowd, scanning for Celestia. She ran up to me, her eyes wide.

  "Ragna! What was that?" she whispered frantically. "Gold? I've never seen Gold! And what were you staring at up there?"

  "The man," I hissed, pointing subtly toward the royal box. "The white-haired guy on the King's left. He talked to me. In my head."

  Celestia frowned, following my finger. She squinted.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "What man? Ragna, are you hallucinating from the pressure?"

  "Him!" I insisted. "Sitting right there! The scary one!"

  "I don't know who you are talking about," Celestia said slowly, looking at me with concern. "But I know who always sits there. It's the Holy Knight of Destruction. The King's strongest warrior."

  "Okay, so you see him!"

  "Her," Celestia corrected. "Her name isn't public, but everyone knows the Holy Knight is a woman. She wears full armor. No one sees her face."

  I froze.

  I looked back at the throne. The white-haired man was still there, looking at me. He wasn't wearing a helmet. He was plain as day.

  A woman? And in am armor? He is neither a woman nor in an armor, then who' is he?

  "Wow," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "What a title. 'Holy Knight of Destruction'. I would love to meet her."

  The sun began to dip below the Colosseum walls, painting the sky in bruised hues of purple and orange.

  "Attention!" the announcer's voice boomed one last time, breaking the trance of the crowd. "The First Phase of the Exam is concluded! Results will be posted tomorrow morning. You may rest now!"

  The tension in the air snapped. The silence broke into a roar of chatter as thousands of students began to disperse, flooding toward the exits like water released from a dam. Some were crying, some were laughing, others were already setting up camps near the walls.

  I stood there, feeling the adrenaline drain out of my legs. My head was still throbbing from the telepathic connection with the white-haired man.

  "Let's go back to the Griffin," I said to Celestia, my voice sounding thin even to my own ears. "I need sleep. And maybe more soup. A lot of soup."

  "Ragna!"

  A voice cut through the noise.

  It wasn't Celestia—she was standing right next to me, looking just as confused.

  It was a female voice. High, clear, and desperate. A voice I hadn't heard in six years, but one that was etched into the deepest part of my memory.

  I froze. I turned around slowly, afraid it was another hallucination.

  Standing near the gate, pushing through the tide of leaving students, was a girl. She was taller now. Her hair was longer, wilder. But those eyes... they were the same fierce, protective eyes that used to glare at anyone who called me a cripple.

  Leonica Crimson.

  And standing behind her, looking like a mountain of dark steel and worry, was my father. Akira Crimson.

  The noise of the crowd faded. The exam, the Shiva Linga, the mysterious look-alike... it all vanished.

  I didn't think. I didn't strategize. I didn't check my stats.

  "Leo! Dad!"

  I ran.

  I crashed into them, burying my face in my father's chest, feeling his heavy arms wrap around me instantly. I felt Leonica grab me, squeezing so hard my ribs creaked.

  "Brother!"

  Leonica pulled back just enough to look at my face, her hands gripping my shoulders like she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go. Tears were streaming freely down her face, but she was beaming.

  "You made it alive! You actually made it! How are you? What happened in the forest? Did you eat? And who..." She paused, her eyes snapping toward Celestia. "Who is this girl? And why is she standing so close?"

  "Whoa, take it easy, Sis," I laughed, gently patting her head. "That’s a ton of questions. I’ll explain everything later, I promise. But first... how are you guys?"

  I looked up at my father. Akira Crimson looked older, the lines on his face a bit deeper, but his presence was as imposing as ever. He wasn't just looking at me with fatherly affection; he was analyzing me with a warrior's eye.

  "We are fine," Akira said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. "And my, my... you have grown so much, Ragna."

  He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. He was testing my density.

  "You have become a lot more handsome," he noted, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "And a lot stronger. You actually did it. You used those things I gave you."

  He didn't say "Phoenix Wing" or "Dragon Scale" out loud—too many ears around—but the pride in his eyes said it all.

  "Uh... yeah," I said, glancing around at the lingering crowd who were still staring at the white-haired boy hugging the terrifying Commander. "Can we find a place to talk comfortably? I want to introduce you to someone."

  I stepped back and gestured to Celestia, who had been watching the reunion with a polite, slightly nervous smile.

  "Dad, Leo, this is Celestia," I introduced her. "She is my guardian. She’s the one who registered me for the exam when I walked out of the forest looking like a swamp monster."

  Celestia stepped forward, smoothing her skirt. "Hi! Um... I'm Celestia."

  Akira’s eyes locked onto her. His smile vanished instantly, replaced by a look of sharp recognition. He pointed a finger at her, his brow furrowing.

  "You are..." Akira started, his eyes widening. "Aren't you one of the—"

  "I'm one of the workers at the Lotus Inn!" Celestia interrupted loudly, her voice jumping an octave. "You visited it once! Remember?"

  The air went dead silent for a second.

  I watched closely. I saw Celestia wince—no, she winked—sharply at my father. A clear signal. Shut up. Play along.

  Akira paused. The Commander of the South Gate, a man who stared down beast tides, looked visibly confused for a moment. Then, he cleared his throat.

  "Oh. Yeah! Yes," Akira stammered, nodding a bit too vigorously. "I had seen you there. I remember now. The... Lotus Inn. Great service."

  I narrowed my eyes. Lairs. Both of them. My father is a terrible actor, and Celestia is suspicious as hell. But this wasn't the time to interrogate them. And I remember her talking about living in the Golden Griffin since she was a war-orphan. So very suspicious.

  "Whatever you guys are talking about," I interjected, deciding to save them from their own awkwardness, "let's go to a comfortable place. And yeah, Celestia, this is my father, Akira Crimson, and this is my sister, Leonica Crimson."

  "Yes, let's go," Akira said, seemingly relieved to change the subject. He glanced at Celestia one last time with a weird expression before turning to me. "I have asked the Academy's officials if I can stay in one of the guest rooms here. Being a Commander has its perks. I can talk for you, too."

  We left the noisy Colosseum behind, walking through the Academy's winding pathways. The further we went into the faculty district, the quieter and more opulent it became.

  Finally, we reached the guest house. It wasn't a house; it was a mansion. White marble, gold trim, manicured gardens—it was luxurious enough to make my old billionaire self nod in approval.

  "Wow," I whistled as we stepped into the main parlor.

  "So... um..." Akira rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the room. "I think you don't have much experience with houses lately. I'm sorry, Ragna. For your sufferings."

  I stopped looking at the chandelier and turned to him. The guilt in his voice was heavy. He still blamed himself for the banishment, for the six years I spent fighting for my life in the mud.

  "Don't worry, Dad," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "I'm proud to be your son. And honestly? That forest made me this strong. I wouldn't trade that strength for a soft bed."

  Akira swallowed hard, nodding silently.

  "Oh, yeah!" I turned to Leonica, eager to shift the mood to something more technical. "What about you, Leo? You must have awakened your core by now. What did you get? And what's your level?"

  Leonica puffed out her chest, flipping her hair back. The tear tracks were still on her cheeks, but her grin was savage.

  "Who? Me?" she teased. "Oh, I just have the Nine-Tailed Divine Elemental Core."

  She paused for effect.

  "And my level? Qi Refinement Stage 3. Amazing, isn't it?"

  My jaw hit the floor.

  "What?!" I shouted. "You're kidding me! It's not amazing, it's insane!"

  Nine-Tailed Divine Elemental Core? That sounded S-Rank. Maybe even higher. And Stage 3? She was keeping pace with the Princess and me, without having to fuse ancient deity parts in a cave.

  Then again... That was expected, I thought, my mind racing through the lore I knew. The Blades are known for their overpowered cores. They are monsters in human skin.

  "What about you, Bro?" Leonica asked, tilting her head. Then her face fell slightly. "Wait... you didn't have a core, do you? Is that why..."

  "That was a long time ago," I cut in, a smirk creeping onto my face.

  "Wait," Akira stepped forward, his eyes snapping to mine. "Do you mean... you have a core?"

  "Yes," I confirmed.

  The room went silent. Celestia, who had been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up, raising her hand.

  "First, will anyone explain to me why Leonica looks different from the Crimsons?" she asked. "Ragna has the white hair, but Leonica doesn't look like either of you."

  "Because we adopted her," Akira explained, his voice turning solemn. "She is from the Blade generation. Almost everyone in that family died... except her."

  He looked at Leonica with a fierce protectiveness, then turned his gaze back to me. The look in his eyes was intense—a mixture of hope and disbelief.

  "But will you," Akira said, his voice low and demanding, "explain to me how you got a core? That should be impossible."

  I took a deep breath. It was time to drop the bomb.