The class was silent, rapt. Even Ian's usual aloof demeanor gave way to a focused intensity. Lilith's words carried weight—not just because of her rank, but because she had lived what she taught.
"As you know," she continued, "mana rank informs how much mana you possess and how much you can output. Each rank brings new abilities and thresholds. At Silver-rank, you gain the ability to extend aura outside your body. At Integration-rank, that aura becomes enhanced, capable of resonating with your intent. Ascendant-rank introduces astral energy—a power that fundamentally alters the way you fight. And so on."
She began pacing, her mana signature rippling faintly through the air with each step. "However," she said, her gaze sweeping over the room, "none of this makes you invincible. Skipping ranks to defeat someone stronger is not only possible—it's essential for those who aim to rise beyond mediocrity."
Her words were measured, deliberate, and the weight they carried was palpable. "There are four main factors that determine whether you can succeed in such an endeavor: arts, spells, Gifts, and experience."
Lilith stopped, turning her piercing gaze to us. "Arts," she said, her voice sharp as a blade. "A Grade 6 art in the hands of a master can bridge a gap that raw mana cannot. The technique matters as much as the power behind it."
"Spells," she continued, gesturing with a hand. "The complexity of the incantation, the precision of its execution—these can turn the tide of battle, especially when pitted against brute force alone."
Her eyes narrowed, the intensity in her expression growing. "Gifts," she said, her tone laced with gravity. "These are rare, unique, and often decisive. A powerful Gift can redefine the limits of your rank entirely."
Finally, she paused, her gaze sweeping over the class once more. "And experience," she said. "The most important factor of all. It's not enough to possess power—you must know how to use it. A fighter who has honed their instincts in the chaos of battle will defeat someone of higher rank if that person hesitates, falters, or fails to adapt."
The silence that followed was absolute. Lilith's words weren't just lessons—they were truths, forged in the crucible of her own battles. And we all knew it.
"This," she said, her voice softer but no less commanding, "is why skipping ranks is possible. And this is why you must be prepared to face those who can."
Her gaze landed on me once more, lingering just long enough to feel like a challenge. Then, she turned to the rest of the class. "Questions?"
The silence stretched for a moment, no one willing to break it. Finally, Ian raised a hand, his usual playfulness tempered by genuine curiosity. "Professor, have you skipped ranks before?"
Lilith's smirk returned, her emerald eyes gleaming with something that could only be described as dangerous. "Many times," she said simply.
And so, the lesson continued, her words carving themselves into the minds of every student in the room. Lilith's presence was like a force of nature—calm, powerful, and utterly unrelenting.
"Now," she began, her voice sharp enough to command unwavering attention, "let's address the elephant in the room. All of you in Class 4-A have the potential to skip ranks. Not because you're particularly lucky—though perhaps some of you are—but because you've been armed with the tools to do so."
She gestured broadly to the room. "Those of you who practice arts have access to Grade 6 techniques. That alone places you leagues above most fighters. For mages, your advanced spells—their complexity and raw power—grant you an edge against foes who rely on simpler incantations. And, of course, there are your Gifts. Some more than others," she added, her emerald eyes flicking briefly toward me with a knowing glint.
A murmur rippled through the room, but it quieted as she raised a hand. "Experience," she continued, "is the common denominator. Each of you, to varying degrees, has been bloodied. You've faced challenges that force you to adapt, to think, to survive. Without that, even the finest art or most intricate spell won't save you."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing. "Take my little cousin, for example," she said, turning to Lucifer, who stiffened slightly under her gaze. "He skipped the Wall itself—yes, you heard me, the Wall—and defeated a low Ascendant-ranker while at high Integration-rank. An impressive feat."
Lucifer's expression remained stoic, but there was a faint flush of pride in his cheeks.
"And then we have Arthur," Lilith said, her smirk returning as her eyes met mine. "Four times. Two low Ascendant-rankers, one mid Ascendant-ranker, and one peak Ascendant-ranker."
The class collectively turned toward me, the weight of their stares almost tangible. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Lilith continued without missing a beat. "Skipping ranks becomes exponentially harder when moving between thresholds that grant new abilities. For instance, the leap between mid and low Integration-rank is greater than the gap between high and mid Integration-rank, despite the mana differential being the same. Why?"
She looked around, waiting for someone to answer. When no one did, she pressed on.
"At mid Integration-rank," she said, "a warrior's Intent evolves into Resonance, allowing their aura to synchronize with their strikes, amplifying power and precision. Mages replicate this phenomenon with resonance waves in their spells, adding layers of destructive force. These advancements mean that battles aren't just about mana capacity—they're about what you do with it."
Her gaze swept across the room, pinning each student in turn. "This is why understanding your rank—and the abilities it unlocks—is critical. The Wall isn't just a barrier of mana; it's a barrier of capability. Breaking through it requires more than brute strength or a singular Gift. It requires mastery, strategy, and resolve."
Lilith paused again, her tone softening just slightly. "Remember this: skipping ranks isn't a shortcut. It's a test. A test of whether you can leverage every ounce of power, every fragment of skill, to bridge the gap between you and your opponent. If you can't, you'll fall. And in this world, falling often means dying."
The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the faint hum of the mana field surrounding the class. For a moment, no one dared to speak.
Finally, Lilith's smirk returned, her tone lightening just enough to pierce the tension. "So, do try to stay alive, won't you? It'd be terribly inconvenient to replace you."
And with that, she concluded the lesson, leaving us all to wrestle with the gravity of her words—and the challenge they carried.
I wasn't particularly surprised by the content of the lecture. Most of it was information I already knew—Art had drilled it into me during our training sessions. Skipping ranks, the nuances of aura resonance, and the capabilities of astral energy were all concepts I had internalized long before.
The real reason I could skip so many ranks, though, wasn't just skill or knowledge. It was Astral Manifestation. That power alone was in a league of its own. It didn't merely enhance my aura—it transformed it, elevating it into pseudo-astral energy that could contend against the real thing. Every advantage I'd leveraged to stand against stronger opponents could be traced back to that one overpowered ability.
Class time, I thought as the lecture wrapped up, and we filtered out of the homeroom.
The moment I stepped into the hall, Rachel linked her arm through mine with the kind of exuberance that seemed to defy gravity. "Let's go!" she said, her voice as bright as the sunlight streaming through the Academy's crystalline windows.
Rachel and I had our next class together, while my afternoon class would be with Cecilia. With only three classes on my schedule, my days were far more open than most. Where others had sixteen to eighteen hours of classes per week, I had just ten. It was a freedom I intended to put to good use.
Rachel, however, seemed determined to fill every moment with her boundless energy. She was even bubblier than usual, her happiness radiating outward in waves. I knew her well enough to recognize the layers beneath her cheerful exterior.
On the surface, Rachel was bubbly and warm, a beacon of friendliness to everyone around her. Beneath that, there was a layer of cold calculation—a shield she used to protect herself. But beneath even that was the true Rachel: unguarded, genuinely happy, and completely herself.
'She's like a golden retriever,' I thought with a hint of amusement as she practically dragged me along.
"I missed you, Arthur," Rachel whispered, leaning in close enough that her words were meant just for me. "Come to my room after."
Her breath tickled my ear, and I could practically feel Seraphina's imagined presence next to me, her calm voice cutting through the moment with razor-sharp clarity: "Keep it in your pants, Saintess."
I stifled a laugh, shaking my head as Rachel grinned up at me, clearly delighted by the reaction she'd drawn. Her joy was infectious, but I couldn't help the pang of nostalgia that hit me as we walked. Rachel had always been a whirlwind of life, pulling me into her orbit with an energy that was impossible to resist.