Chapter 2: Rebirth in Ragna's body
Damn it.
Richard froze. He thought to himself, "Why has my voice changed so much? Why does it sound so much younger? What exactly is happening?"
His eyes opened fully. He was lying on a couch in an unfamiliar house. He tried to get up, but as soon as he put a little pressure on the couch, it cracked loudly and collapsed, leaving him on the floor.
"Damn it! What the hell was that?"
Richard hurriedly got up and walked toward a mirror in front of him. When he saw his reflection, he froze. What he saw in the mirror wasn't him. The body reflected back at him was someone else's: Ragna's body, a character he always believed existed only in fiction. His hand touched the mirror, trembling. At that moment, a sharp pain shot through his head. Stumbling, he made his way to one of the still-intact chairs and sat down, clutching his forehead.
Memories flooded into his mind. Memories that were both Ragna's and... something else, strange and unfamiliar. At that moment, he realized the truth: he wasn't just Richard anymore—he was also Ragna. There was no denying it.
He let out a sigh and murmured weakly, "So, that text was real... Damn it! If I'd known, I would've asked for a better power. But now..." He paused, his eyes staring into the corner of the room. "Who brought me into this world?"
Richard—no, Ragna—leaned back slowly. "I'll figure that out later. Whoever they are, they're beyond my comprehension. They even created a fake identity for me, so entities like Gaia or Alaya wouldn't suspect me. If they did..." A shiver ran through him. "It would've been a disaster. Who would want to make an enemy of beings beyond time and space?"
His gaze shifted to his hands. They weren't his hands anymore. Slowly, he said, "From now on, I am Ragna."
He fell silent for a moment. Then, with a serious tone, he added, "It's 1994 now. There's only one day left until the Holy Grail War begins. Should I participate?"
After a moment of thought, he smirked. "Of course, I'm going to participate."
But then, something struck him. "Damn it! I'm late. The Masters have been chosen, and all the Servants have been summoned. There's only one left Ryuunosuke Uryuu. I need to kill that bastard." His eyes began to glow with an intense blue light. "Maybe by killing him, the Holy Grail will give me a Command Seal."
At that moment, he froze. A thought pierced his mind: "I don't know magic! I don't even have Magic Circuits. Do I even have magical energy? What if my Silvarian body rejects magic entirely?"
Ragna started pacing the room, one hand resting on his chin as he thought. After a while, he exhaled deeply. "Ah, I'll worry about that later. Even if I can't become a Master, I can still participate as a mysterious outsider." He smirked, making up his mind.
He walked toward the wardrobe. "I need to change my clothes. What I'm wearing now draws too much attention." He put on a simple, ordinary outfit and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't feel comfortable. "This outfit isn't suited for fighting, but I'll endure it for a few hours."
Ragna opened the door and stepped outside. He started walking, but when he reached a dark alley, he stopped.
He glanced at the wall and murmured to himself, "To make sure no one sees me, I need to move faster than the human eye can follow. Not that it's difficult for me." He smirked again and, with a leap, landed silently on the roof of a nearby building.
Without hesitation, Ragna began jumping from one rooftop to another. His speed was so great that even his shadow couldn't be seen clearly. But one question lingered in his mind: "How do I find Ryuunosuke Uryuu?"
After a few minutes of thought, an idea struck him. "Ah, I know. I'll use the Silvarian aura in my body." Focusing, he unleashed a radiant aura of Silvarian energy, allowing it to spread across the city. This method would help him locate Ryuunosuke Uryuu position.
"I hope it's not too late ..." she muttered to herself as her eyes glowed with a bright blue light.
With even greater speed than before, he continued moving. The war was about to begin, and he had little time left.
Weekly Power Status
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