Saga Legacy

After leaving the principal's office, Mikage led Akira to the school's hospital, a pristine but eerily quiet building. Inside, an elf with deep bags under his eyes and a white lab coat approached them, holding a syringe.

"We need a blood sample," the elf muttered, his voice monotone but firm.

Akira backed away, his eyes wide with panic. "A blood sample? For what? No way!" he shouted, twisting to escape.

The elf sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why do they always resist?"

Akira started screaming for help as the elf tried to approach, his struggles intensifying when two nurses entered and restrained him. "Let me go! I'm not some lab rat!" Akira yelled.

Finally, the sample was taken, and the elf held up the vial of blood like a trophy. "See? Not so bad."

Later, Akira sat on a bench outside the hospital, holding a piece of cotton wool to his arm and sulking. His face was a mix of embarrassment and resentment as he muttered, "What do they even need my blood for?"

Mikage, standing nearby with an amused expression, replied, "It's for the usual stuff—blood type, allergies, and to check if you're some unknown species. You know, standard procedure."

Akira glared at him. "Standard? You call that standard?"

They soon arrived at a large sparring ground, surrounded by tall walls and buzzing with energy. Mikage stopped in the middle of the field and turned to Akira. "Alright, this is where we'll test your physical prowess. Let's see if you can fight."

Akira raised an eyebrow. "Fight? Who am I fighting?"

Mikage grinned confidently. "Me. Here's the deal: I'll let you land three punches, and I won't let my mana protect me. Think you can handle that?"

Before Akira could respond, a voice rang out from the stands. "There he is!"

A crowd of girls swarmed the training ground, screaming Mikage's name. He waved at them like a celebrity, flashing a charming smile.

Akira looked at him, baffled. "Are you serious right now?"

Mikage shrugged. "Just go ahead and punch me. Don't overthink it."

Taking a deep breath, Akira assumed a boxing stance. In his mind, he muttered, It'll be embarrassing if I knock him out, but even worse if I can't hurt him at all.

He threw his first punch—a liver shot, aiming precisely. "No matter how strong you are, you'll feel this," he thought. The impact made Mikage grunt and drop to one knee.

Akira smirked and muttered, "One."

He followed up with a quick left jab to Mikage's face, almost sending him to the ground. "Two," he counted, confidence growing.

Finally, he grabbed Mikage's head and slammed it against his knee. "Three."

Akira stepped back, satisfied, but Mikage barely flinched after the third blow. Instead, he straightened up, brushing himself off, his grin unshaken. "Not bad," Mikage said. "You actually forced me to use my mana."

Akira's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You mean those hits didn't count because of your mana?"

Mikage laughed. "Oh, they counted. But you didn't even infuse your punches with mana, and you still managed to make me feel them. You've got potential, newbie. Let's see what else you've got."

Mikage chuckled, muttering under his breath, "You almost embarrassed me." He smiled, turning to the crowd of girls still cheering for him. "Yes, he got a good hit in," he said with a wink, "but don't worry, I'm fine."

Akira glared at him. "Great," he muttered, "now I have to fight someone who's clearly pissed."

Mikage turned back to Akira, his smile sharper now. "Don't worry, I'll keep my mana out of it. But I'm not holding back my punches."

Akira hesitated, then clenched his fists. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

He rushed forward, throwing a flurry of punches, hoping to overwhelm Mikage. But Mikage calmly deflected each strike with his hands, his movements smooth and calculated. Suddenly, Mikage slipped an uppercut into Akira's abdomen, forcing all the air out of his lungs.

Akira doubled over, but before he could hit the ground, Mikage caught him by the collar. Leaning in, Mikage whispered, "We're not done yet."

A cold chill ran down Akira's spine. It hit him—Mikage wasn't just sparring anymore. He was genuinely pissed, and he was going to make Akira pay for landing those earlier punches.

Akira stumbled back, putting some distance between them. I have to stay fast and keep dodging, he thought, find openings and hit him where it counts.

He darted forward again, weaving around Mikage's strikes. Mikage threw punch after punch, but Akira dodged with quick footwork, focusing on staying out of reach. Spotting an opening, Akira landed a few punches and followed up with a kick aimed at Mikage's side.

But Mikage caught his leg effortlessly, his grin widening. "Not bad," he said, holding Akira's leg firmly.

Without hesitation, Akira jumped off his standing foot, twisting mid-air to throw a second kick with his free leg. Mikage caught that one too, his grip like iron.

For a split second, Mikage stumbled backward, caught off guard by the sudden move. But before Akira could capitalize on it, Mikage planted his foot and launched a powerful punch straight into Akira's midsection.

The force sent Akira crashing onto the ground, skidding a few feet across the floor. He lay there, gasping for air, his vision swimming.

Mikage stood over him, shaking his hand like it stung from the impact. "You've got some fight in you," he said with a smirk. "But you've got a long way to go."

Akira groaned, clutching his ribs. This guy is insane, he thought, struggling to sit up. But deep down, a flicker of determination burned. I'll get stronger. I'll beat him one day.

Mikage walked over to Akira, who was still holding his abdomen in pain. He sat down beside him, offering a small smirk. "Nice fight," he said. "You really put up a good effort. You were strategic, exploited my attacks to counter them, and stayed quick on your feet. All in all, you could take down a lot of people, but..." Mikage paused, pointing at Akira's arms, "...you lack physical power. I'll rate this fight a 7.5 out of 10."

Mikage stood up and stretched, turning back to Akira. "Come on, get up. We've got more tests to run." Akira groaned, reluctantly standing, muttering under his breath about how sparring sessions were supposed to be instructional, not painful.

---

Scene switches to Oliver's office. Hakuren sits across from him, sipping tea.

"It's always nice to have one of the Sorcerer Supremes visiting us," Oliver said, leaning back in his chair.

Hakuren paused mid-sip and raised an eyebrow. "What do you think about the kid?"

Oliver took a moment, tapping a finger on his desk before responding. "He's rebellious, no doubt about that. But deep down, he seems like the type who stands for what's right. And, honestly, he's taking all this magic stuff in stride. I don't blame him—dying and coming back can change anyone's perspective."

Hakuren nodded, setting his teacup down. "And his mana?"

Oliver frowned. "That's the strange part. I didn't feel a single ounce of mana from him."

Hakuren sighed and rubbed his temple. "Odd. Because when I threw him off a building, he instinctively used shadow magic."

Oliver's eyes widened in shock. "You threw a kid off a building?"

Hakuren leaned back, covering his ears. "No need to shout. He's alive, isn't he? Besides, it was a test, and I had orders to end him if things went south."

Oliver slumped back into his chair, rubbing his face. "Apologies for the outburst. But...so he's using dark mana? Have you checked his lineage? Any ancestors dabbling in the dark arts?"

"No traces," Hakuren said firmly. "And believe me, we've searched thoroughly."

Oliver sighed. "A rare specimen, then. But we can manage that."

"That's not the issue," Hakuren said, his tone sharpening. "It's what happened after. When we were attacked, I felt a surge of dark mana—dense dark mana—and an unhealthy amount of bloodlust coming from the forest. Both were tied to Akira. On the plane, it happened again. His mana was so suffocatingly tense that it could choke you. And he wasn't even awake."

Hakuren reached into his coat, pulling out a sleek phone, and placed it on Oliver's desk. "If anything goes wrong with Akira—if people get hurt—subdue him immediately. Contact me. I don't want the other Sorcerer Supremes hounding me about this."

He turned to leave but stopped at the doorway. "By the way, what brand of tea was that?"

Oliver blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "Oh, uh...Darjeeling First Flush. Imported from the Himalayan foothills. Very exclusive."

Hakuren nodded, stepping out. "I'll remember that. Thanks."

As the door closed behind him, Oliver sighed deeply, slumping into his chair. His orderly demeanor unraveled as he ran a hand through his hair. "Akira… Looks like you're going to be a lot of work."

The scene cuts to Mikage and Akira in a stark, sterile lab dominated by a massive, orbital-shaped machine. Its spinning rings emitted a faint hum, pulsating with potential energy. Akira stared at it, unimpressed. "Sooo…what's this oversized science project supposed to do?"

Mikage smirked, arms folded. "This? It measures your mana level and rates it from F to S. F is rock bottom, and S is the highest—only two people currently hold an S rank: the Grand Sorcerer and their knight."

Akira muttered under his breath, "Great. Next thing you know, I'll be rated some overpowered SS, and we'll all have to bow."

The machine operator gestured toward Akira, their voice steady but formal. "Please place your hand on the scanner to begin."

Akira walked up and placed his hand on the cold, metallic surface. He frowned after a few seconds. "Is that it? No dramatic lights? No thunderbolts or glowing runes?"

The operator chuckled nervously. "Oh, we haven't started yet. We thought you might be…nervous."

Mikage's laugh erupted like a sharp crack, loud and mocking. "Nervous? Him? That's comedy gold!"

Annoyed, Akira glared at Mikage. "If you're done clowning around, how about you tell me how to use this thing?"

Mikage waved a dismissive hand, still chuckling. "Alright, alright. Just think about how you used magic before. It's different for everyone—try to recreate the feeling."

Akira scoffed. "You're terrible at this," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that," Mikage shot back with a smirk.

Grumbling, Akira turned back to the machine. "Okay…how did I do it last time?" He shut his eyes, his thoughts turning inward. Darkness enveloped his mind until, out of the void, he saw it: a swirl of dark purple fire, flickering with eerie life.

When Akira opened his eyes, they glowed with the same ominous hue. The moment his mana surfaced, the air in the room thickened. A violent, suffocating wave of power erupted from Akira, swallowing the lab in a dark, malevolent aura.

The operator froze mid-motion, their face pale as they struggled to breathe. Their body trembled uncontrollably, and tears formed at the corners of their eyes. Mikage's instincts took over, and his body erupted in flames, his fiery aura flaring wildly.

Across the school, students and staff halted in their tracks, clutching their chests as an overwhelming sense of dread washed over them. Panic spread like wildfire, and several students screamed, fleeing to their dorms.

In his office, Oliver slammed his hand on his desk, beads of sweat streaming down his face. "What…is that?" His voice trembled as he tried to steady his breathing.

Back in the lab, Mikage's pupils dilated. His voice was barely a whisper. "That… that can't be human."

Akira, oblivious to the chaos he was causing, turned to the operator. "Hey, is everything okay? What's my rank?"

The operator couldn't respond at first, their hands shaking so violently they could barely type. "I-I-It's almost done…" they finally stammered, their voice cracking with fear.

Mikage, still cloaked in flames, muttered, "This has to be a mistake… That level of mana should've been at least an A+."

Finally, the machine beeped, and the operator spoke, their voice barely audible. "D… D rank."

Mikage's eyes widened. "What? That's impossible! With a surge like that, it should've destroyed the scale!"

The operator shook their head frantically, double-checking the results. "The machine is functioning properly! It was serviced just an hour ago!"

Akira stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking unimpressed. "D rank, huh? Guess I got carried away thinking I'm the protagonist or something." He walked past Mikage, who was still standing rigid with shock. "Oh, by the way, you might want to turn off that fire."

Mikage blinked, his flames flickering before extinguishing. He muttered under his breath, "What the hell is he…?"