Seven years later...

A mysterious event gripped the entire planet, unleashing chaos and fear among its inhabitants. Disasters ravaged the land, but the most unsettling occurrence was the sudden slumber of every child under the age of fifteen, leaving parents paralyzed with dread.

Amidst the turmoil, Drax remained unaffected by the strange phenomenon. Seizing the opportunity for respite, he decided to feign slumber and retreat into his conscious realm.

Robert, a fellow inhabitant, confronted Drax, questioning his callous attitude towards his worried parents.

Robert: Drax, why would you make your parents worry like this? Have you no consideration for their feelings?

Drax scoffed at Robert's concern.

Drax: So, you're suggesting I wake up just to reassure them that I'm the odd one out? No thanks. Now, get the hell out of my palace.

Robert, taken aback, left silently. Drax, left alone, mused on his own ranking.

Drax: How did such a coward become No. 53 while I'm stuck in the hundreds?

As the day wore on, the slumbering children began to awaken. Some exhibited changed behavior, while others remained unchanged.

Drax, emerging from his pretended slumber, observed the twisted laws of the world and the golden strings of fate that connected each sleeping child.

Drax: Chronos has outdone himself, summoning souls from different dimensions to fulfill his goals. This is dangerous for us... but what could be more intriguing than this?

With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Drax braced himself for the unfolding events, knowing that the fate of their world hung in the balance.............

Knock! Knock!! Knock!!! The urgent knocking echoed through the house.

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Drax's mother called out to him, asking if he could check who was at the door. With a sense of anticipation, Drax approached the door, sensing that the challenge had already begun.

Opening the door, he found Raon standing there, wearing an expression far beyond his years. Raon motioned for Drax to follow him to the side of the house, where they could speak privately.

Drax, intrigued by Raon's demeanor, followed him, wondering what he was up to. As they faced each other, Raon introduced himself as Brian the Brawler, hailing from a realm of magic and sword.

Drax assessed the situation, realizing that Raon wasn't attacking him, indicating that he hadn't recognized Drax as an enemy yet.

Raon: Drax, even after reincarnating, you still seem lost in thought as usual. So, who are you?

Drax quickly concocted a lie, recalling his recent encounter with Robert, who had nagged him about his behavior.

Drax: I am Robert, the Hero of White Flames, hailing from a world of heroes and demons.

Raon raised an eyebrow, processing Drax's response.

Raon: A holy knight?

Drax stuttered, trying to maintain his façade.

Drax: Ye... ye... yeah, that's it, Raon.

Raon nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Raon: I see. Well, all I wanted to say is that we should consider working together in the future to achieve our common goals.

He extended his hand for a handshake, which Drax accepted hesitantly.

Meanwhile, Drax's mother observed the interaction, amused by the childish yet mature exchange unfolding before her.

Drax's Mom: Is this some sort of game where children play at being adults?

At that pivotal moment of agreement, a man's voice pierced the air, shouting at the top of his lungs that the soldiers were coming to take the Children of Slumber.

Drax and Raon exchanged glances, their smiles mirroring a shared determination. "Why don't we go deal with this?" they suggested in unison.

Just then, Drax's mother called out, urging them to come inside for safety, her fear palpable. Raon's mother echoed the sentiment, seeking refuge from the impending threat.

However, as time passed in the eerie silence indoors, a sudden commotion erupted. From every door in the vicinity, the slumbering children emerged, each armed with weapons suited to their abilities. Some wore smiles of defiance, while others bore expressions of righteous anger at the king's hasty and reckless decision.

In the distance, the soldiers' hoarse voices grew louder, signaling their approach to the village. As they arrived, they were met with a sight that caught them off guard: a group of teenagers, armed and unyielding, standing before them with unwavering resolve, they literally knocked out there parents out.

Dismissing them as mere children, one soldier sneered, "They're just kids. What can they do?"

But before he could finish his sentence, the legs of his horse were swiftly severed, sending the animal crashing to the ground with a deafening thud. Shocked and disoriented, the soldier stumbled backward, confronted by a looming shadow.

The shadow solidified into a figure, revealing Luck standing before him, spear in hand. With a steely gaze, Luck addressed the soldier, "How dare you look down on me?"

The soldier recoiled, his confidence faltering in the face of Luck's unwavering presence.

Luck taunted, "Too slow."

Another soldier scoffed, "Heh."

But Luck's next words sent a chill down their spines, "How could you not realize one of your legs has already been cut?"

The soldiers exchanged bewildered glances, unable to comprehend how the swift strike had occurred. In that moment, a realization dawned upon them: if one of these teenagers possessed such formidable strength, what manner of power did the rest of them hold?

As the soldiers grappled with this unsettling revelation, the scene took a more ominous turn. Back in the village, the parents of the slumbering children lay unconscious, felled by their own offspring, who now stood ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.