The Extra Who Inherited Ragnarok

The voice echoed through the darkness.

"...Finally."

"I’ve been waiting for you."

Noah didn’t move.

His hand instinctively rested on Shadowfang’s hilt.

The hidden passage behind the bookshelf was pitch black.

No light.

No mana.

Nothing.

Predator’s Instinct remained strangely silent.

That bothered him more than if it had screamed.

The System didn’t react either.

No warning.

No quest update.

No notifications.

"...That’s impossible."

Everything unusual triggered the System.

Everything except...

This.

Noah took a cautious step forward.

The hidden passage descended beneath Raven Dormitory.

The stone walls were ancient.

Far older than the academy above.

Runes covered every brick.

Most had faded with time.

Others still emitted a faint crimson glow.

The deeper he walked...

The colder the air became.

After several minutes...

The tunnel opened into a circular chamber.

Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling.

Thousands of books.

Ancient scrolls.

Broken weapons.

Maps.

Portraits.

It looked like a forgotten library.

At the center sat a young woman.

She couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

Long raven-black hair cascaded over a crimson academy uniform unlike any Noah had seen.

One sleeve was missing.

The empty sleeve was pinned neatly to her shoulder.

She calmly closed the book she had been reading.

Her crimson eyes met Noah’s.

"So..."

She smiled faintly.

"You actually found the room."

Noah frowned.

"I didn’t."

"The room opened itself."

Her smile widened.

"Even better."

She stood.

Despite having only one arm, her movements were elegant.

Confident.

Like someone who had forgotten what fear felt like centuries ago.

"You’ve inherited Ragnarok."

It wasn’t a question.

Noah’s grip tightened around Shadowfang.

"Who are you?"

She bowed politely.

"My name is Seraphina."

"I was once..."

A brief pause.

"...Professor of Combat Theory."

Noah blinked.

"At this academy?"

"Yes."

"When?"

She thought for a moment.

"Oh..."

"About seven hundred years ago."

Silence.

Noah stared.

"...You’re joking."

"I rarely joke."

She walked toward him.

Her footsteps made no sound.

"No heartbeat..."

Noah realized.

No breathing.

No scent.

"What are you?"

Seraphina looked at her remaining hand.

"I ask myself that every morning."

She stopped an arm’s length away.

"I died."

"But someone refused to let my knowledge die with me."

She tapped one of the bookshelves.

"This room exists outside ordinary space."

"It appears only to those carrying the Broken Crown."

Noah slowly reached into his pocket.

The black key.

The moment Seraphina saw it...

She smiled.

"The Archivist Key."

"You’ve been accepted."

"Accepted by what?"

She looked around the endless library.

"The Keepers."

"The last people still loyal to Ragnarok."

Noah frowned.

"The First Successor never mentioned them."

"He couldn’t."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

Her expression became distant.

"...he believed we were all dead."

Before Noah could respond—

The room trembled.

A candle extinguished itself.

Seraphina’s smile disappeared.

"They’ve noticed."

"Who?"

"The Church."

Noah’s eyes narrowed.

"The Church?"

She nodded.

"They’ve been hunting the Keepers for centuries."

"They believe Ragnarok must never awaken again."

Noah folded his arms.

"And should I believe you?"

Seraphina laughed softly.

"No."

"You shouldn’t."

She pointed toward one of the bookshelves.

"Trust is earned."

"Not demanded."

A thick leather-bound book floated from the shelf.

It landed gently in Noah’s hands.

Its cover bore the Broken Crown symbol.

He opened it.

The first page contained only one sentence.

The official history of the Seven Successors is a lie.

Noah’s pupils contracted.

He flipped another page.

Then another.

Ancient sketches.

Battlefields.

Kings.

Monsters.

The First Successor.

The Second.

The Third.

Each story contradicted everything he’d learned from the System.

His heartbeat accelerated.

"What..."

"...is all this?"

Seraphina’s voice turned solemn.

"The truth."

"And if you’re going to survive..."

"...you’ll need to know who the real enemy is."

Far above them...

In the highest tower of Valhalla Academy...

Headmaster Leonhardt stood at the window.

Without turning around, he spoke quietly.

"He entered the Archive."

The hooded figure behind him lowered their head.

"So..."

"It’s begun."

Leonhardt closed his eyes.

"No."

"It began long before either of us was born."

He looked toward Raven Dormitory.

"And now..."

"The Seventh has taken his first step into the war hidden beneath this academy."