SSS Ranked Reincarnation: Dark Dragon Legacy

All around him, his clones fought relentlessly, cutting through the endless waves. Together, they had held the line for hours, and not a single creature had slipped past since the battle began.

Silva’s gaze flicked toward the swirling portal ahead. The thought of ending it crossed his mind, of wiping the portal and everything connected to it from existence.

But then he froze.

A sudden tug pulled at his consciousness, sharp, alien, invasive.

He frowned, tightening his grip on his sword. “What… was that?”

Nothing seemed different at first, so he forced himself to focus and continued fighting, his blade cutting through another wave of shrieking abyssal beasts.

Then it happened again. Stronger.

Before he could react, something yanked him violently—his entire being dragged forward as if through a collapsing void. Space twisted around him, light and darkness folding together.

And in the next heartbeat, Silva was gone, pulled completely out of the battlefield, ripped through a warp that swallowed him whole.

[…..]

Silva’s eyes flickered open.

A bright light seared into them, forcing him to shut them again. He opened them slowly this time, letting his vision adjust to the blinding glare.

Before he could even see clearly, a calm, steady voice reached him.

“Seems you’re awake,” it said.

Then came the soft sounds of flowing water and birdsong, peaceful, almost unreal. Silva blinked, his gaze lifting toward the sky. It was blue and endless, with drifting clouds and flocks of birds gliding across it. Yet something was off. The birds looked… different, and there were two suns blazing overhead instead of one.

Silva shot to his feet instantly.

He scanned his surroundings, and his eyes locked onto the figure who had spoken, a man with long, elvish ears, clad in robes of deep purple and black, lined with intricate golden trims. The man smiled gently at him.

They stood in a vast, breathtaking garden, streams winding between glowing flowers and lush green grass that seemed to stretch endlessly. The air shimmered faintly with mana.

“What is this?” Silva demanded. “Is this part of the exam?”

The elf slowly shook his head. “Sadly, no. You’ve been taken out of the examination.”

Silva’s eyes narrowed. “Taken out?”

“Yes,” the man said, his tone calm but heavy. “Because those above saw your performance.”

He paused, closing his eyes briefly as though in thought, or perhaps restraint.

When he opened them again, his golden irises gleamed faintly. “What exactly are you?” he asked. “From what we observed, you’re a Dark Dragon. But there haven’t been Dark Dragons in many ages. The race has been long forgotten. So your presence…” he studied Silva carefully, “doesn’t make sense.”

“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself before asking me so many questions? That’s what a normal person would do,” Silva said coolly.

The man paused, studying him for a moment. His golden eyes scanned Silva’s face, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

“You have quite the cocky attitude,” he said. “I suppose that’s fitting for someone of the Dragon Race.”

He turned slightly, taking a few unhurried steps away before continuing. “My name is Lyrax. The general term for my kind would be Elven, but I’m something more, an advanced branch beyond the base Elf race.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, his tone returning to calm curiosity. “Now, back to you. What exactly are you, and where did you come from?”

Silva frowned. “Do I really need to answer all that? I was in the middle of my examination. So tell me, why did you bring me here, and what do you want from me?”

His fingers tightened around the hilt of the Abyssal Blade at his side. The dark metal pulsed faintly, responding to his rising caution.

Lyrax’s golden eyes flicked down to the weapon, then back to Silva. His tone remained polite, but there was a faint edge beneath the calm.

“Be careful with your movements,” Lyrax warned softly. “We don’t want any… complications here, do we?”

Silva’s lips curved slightly. “Do we?” he echoed, throwing the words right back at him.

The air between them tightened, an invisible pressure forming in the serene garden, the kind that only existed when two powerful beings were quietly testing each other’s will.

Lyrax let out a long, tired sigh and looked at Silva.

“You don’t need to be on guard,” he said evenly. “You’re still within the Arcane Council. The reason you’re here has to do with your examination. You showed us something… unexpected. Your skill, your strength, it isn’t normal.”

Silva raised a brow, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“You mean to tell me that, in this vast expanse of space, in the entire Loomis Region, you’ve never seen strength like mine? Hard to believe.”

He wasn’t being arrogant, at least, not entirely. When he’d gone all out during the examination, it was only because he knew how enormous the universe was. He’d assumed there were countless beings far stronger than him. Even within the same examination, he hadn’t thought his abilities would stand out much.

Yet now he was hearing something completely different.

Lyrax slowly shook his head. “Of course, there are many powerful individuals,” he replied. “Even within this very building of the Arcane Council. But very few of them would take the Arcane Examination. Most have already done so in the past, or they’re powerful enough to stand on their own without the Council’s recognition. That’s why your case is… suspicious.”

He studied Silva carefully. “To see someone new with such power already, it raises questions. If you truly possessed this level of strength, you’d have long left your planet. You would’ve taken the exam ages ago.”

Silva’s eyes narrowed. “Your logic is bullshit.”

Lyrax’s expression froze.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Silva continued. “What does it matter when someone chooses to take the exam? If they have the power, whether they waited a decade or a day, should that really be a problem?”

The blunt tone in Silva’s voice made Lyrax’s jaw tighten. His irritation flared, but he swallowed it down.

He couldn’t afford to lose his composure. The Seven Council Members had given him direct orders regarding Silva. He couldn’t go against them, and he certainly couldn’t allow himself to get angry in front of the Dark Dragon.

So he inhaled slowly, forcing a thin, measured smile.

“Perhaps,” Lyrax said quietly, “you’re right.”

But his eyes, those golden, ancient eyes, betrayed the storm brewing beneath his calm.