"Goddammit! When's this damn speech gonna end? I can't take it anymore!"
"Seriously! How the hell can that old guy talk so much?"
"Shut up, man! It's rude to say that."
"I don't give a shit! It's been nearly an hour, and he's still going!"
"No kidding. I didn't come here to listen to some ancient fossil ramble on. Where's the awakening already?"
The frustration simmered through the crowd like an unchecked flame. A thousand students and guests crammed into the academy's sports field, fidgeting in rows of cheap folding chairs. The tent overhead offered shade but did nothing to cool the rising restlessness.
On stage, the elderly speaker continued, his polished suit reflecting the sunlight like armor against the impatience. His voice echoed over the PA system—measured, deliberate, and wholly unengaging. The words rolled out, but they didn't land. Faces turned to one another, whispers cutting through the air as attention drifted further with every passing minute.
Seated in the back row, Maximus listened to the low grumbles around him and exhaled a quiet sigh. Indeed, the speech had overstayed its welcome, dragging on like an endless dirge. The old man on stage might as well have been reciting a laundry list for all the impact it had. Words devoid of substance, stretched thin over what felt like an agonizing hour.
The speaker was none other than the principal of State High Academy No. 14, the man ostensibly at the helm of this esteemed institution. Yet, for all his supposed stature, his speech did little to command respect—or attention.
"This future, that future... The spirit of youth... Brotherhood, sisterhood..."
The words droned on, a string of recycled clichés woven into an endless chain of meaningless noise. Bollocks, pure and simple.
It was no surprise that impatience rippled through the crowd like wildfire. Forced to endure such drivel, everyone's patience was nearing its breaking point. Even the dignitaries seated behind the principal, their positions marked by ornate chairs and polished appearances, were shifting uncomfortably. Their expressions grew more strained with each passing minute, betraying a shared frustration that mirrored the simmering discontent of the students and guests below.
It wasn't until several minutes later that the speech stumbled to its merciful conclusion. The principal muttered a few closing words of gratitude, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause, the sound rippling across the field like a crashing wave. To an outsider, the scene might have appeared as if the speech had been a resounding success, one that had stirred hearts and minds to an almost frenzied enthusiasm.
But the truth was far simpler: everyone was just ecstatic it was finally over. That was the real reason behind the thunderous ovation—a release of pent-up frustration, not admiration. The principal, however, seemed blissfully unaware of the mockery hidden in the applause. He stood there beaming, nodding with self-satisfaction, soaking in the moment like a clueless king basking in hollow adoration.
'What a stupid clown,' Maximus thought with a sneer, his violet eyes fixed on the puffed-up old man. Rising with the crowd, he joined the applause out of obligation, his hands coming together in slow, half-hearted claps that barely made a sound.
Another man swiftly took the stage, his demeanor starkly contrasting the vain principal. He exuded a stoic seriousness, his presence commanding attention without the need for fanfare. "Alright, everyone. Settle down. Back to your seats," he instructed, his tone even and controlled.
The crowd responded almost immediately, the restless murmurs fading as students and guests shuffled back into their chairs.
The man's voice rang out again, firm and commanding. "By the grace of the Ascension Tower, I hereby declare this year's awakening ceremony is officially starting!"
This time, the applause was immediate and heartfelt. Though no one rose from their seats, the energy was palpable, a stark contrast to the earlier ovation. Excitement rippled through the crowd, an electric anticipation filling the air. At last, the moment everyone had been waiting for had arrived. Maximus couldn't help but flash a small, genuine grin, his hands clapping in rhythm with the crowd, the thrill of the moment settling in.
"Ahem." The man on the podium cleared his throat, and the crowd instinctively fell silent.
Satisfied that the noise had subsided, he continued, "The awakening shall take place inside that gymnasium." He gestured toward a nearby building, the academy's main sports facility, its large structure visible just beyond the field.
All eyes shifted toward the building, drawn by the presence of two figures standing like sentinels at the entrance. A man and a woman, both cloaked in ash-gray, their swords sheathed and resting at their waists, stood poised and unmoving. The quiet pressure emanating from them was palpable, their identities as rankers unmistakable. Even from a distance, their mere presence seemed to hang heavy in the air, a subtle weight that made the crowd a little uneasy.
The serious man pressed on. "All participating students will be called one by one according to their designated numbers. Staff members are already inside, ready to assist with the awakening process."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in, the air growing heavier with each passing second.
"But I must warn you to maintain order," he added, his tone sharp. "Everything must proceed smoothly. Any violations of this rule will result in disqualification. Remember this..."
At the mention of numbers, Maximus glanced down at the pin affixed to his chest. The number 91 gleamed back at him, marking his turn in the procession. He shifted his gaze to the girl sitting beside him, her pin catching his attention. Her number was even higher than his—later, by a considerable margin. It appeared his turn would come first, though he knew it would still be a while before that moment arrived.
Maximus turned his focus back to the serious man on the podium, who had resumed speaking. "Everyone appears to be ready, so I won't waste any more time," he announced, his voice cutting through the crowd. "The student with designated number 1! Please rise and proceed to the gymnasium."
The summon sparked another wave of commotion. At the same time, a boy rose from his seat in the left row, instantly becoming the focal point of everyone's gaze. His face was unfamiliar to Maximus, and he couldn't tell which class the guy was from.
As the boy walked toward the gymnasium, each step seemed to weigh on him more than the last. His anxious expression was hard to miss, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, betraying the nerves he couldn't hide. It was clear he wasn't confident—his every movement carried the unmistakable signs of someone trying their hardest to steady themselves in the face of something overwhelming.
He soon disappeared inside the building, leaving the crowd outside in a tense silence. In truth, it wasn't just him who felt the weight of nerves; nearly every other student shared the same unease. The air was thick with it. As the moments dragged on, that anxiety only deepened, the awareness that their turns were fast approaching hanging over them like a storm waiting to break.
Yet, even after several minutes passed, there was still no sign of movement from the building. Curiosity stirred through the crowd, whispers spreading as they began to wonder what was happening inside. Had the boy succeeded, or had something gone wrong?
But Maximus, ever observant, noticed the subtle shift in the expressions of the dignitaries seated behind the podium. These individuals, far older and more experienced than the students, seemed to understand something the others did not. The slight shakes of their heads, almost imperceptible but telling, pointed to one unsettling conclusion…
'He failed, huh,' Maximus thought, his eyes narrowing as he pieced together the signs.
His assumption was confirmed a short while later when the boy emerged from the tent. His head hung low, his face etched with a grave expression—as if the weight of the world had just crashed down on him.
The onlookers quickly understood the outcome. A collective sigh rippled through the crowd, sympathy and discomfort filling the atmosphere. Pitying gazes followed the boy as he made his way back to his seat, tears streaming down his cheeks, his defeat plain for all to see.
"Alas..." The serious man's voice carried a sympathetic note. "But don't worry, young man. You can try again at the next general awakening in the capital, which shall be held in just a couple of months. You might have failed now, but that doesn't mean your innate gift won't awaken in time. This applies to all of you. Don't give up if you fail today."
He swept his gaze across the seated crowd, his words aimed to console the boy and offer encouragement to the others. His calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to the disappointment hanging in the air, as he tried to lift the spirits of those still waiting their turn.
Unfortunately, the man's words seemed to have little effect. The boy continued to sob uncontrollably, his despair evident in every tremble of his body. The rest of the students, meanwhile, only grew more anxious, the pressure of uncertainty pressing down heavily on them. Only a few, like Maximus, Carla, and a handful of others, remained calm and composed, their expressions unchanged, as if the sad boy's failed attempt hadn't fazed them in the slightest.
"Okay, let's move on to the next participant," the serious man announced, urging the awakening to continue. "Number 2! It's your turn now. Please proceed to the gymnasium!"
The second participant, another boy, swiftly rose from his seat. His expression mirrored the first—anxiety and unease radiating from him. A few minutes later, he emerged from the gymnasium, his face bearing the same look of defeat. Another failure. The crowd's collective breath seemed to hitch, and the weight of disappointment settled heavier in the air.
The same outcome befell the following participants. Each failed to awaken their innate gift. The time they spent inside the gymnasium seemed endless, but it yielded only silence. They returned, faces etched with despair, their hopes shattered, and their dreams reduced to nothing but smoldering ashes, slipping through their fingers.
It wasn't until the fourteenth participant that the situation finally shifted. This time, it was someone Maximus knew—Auranne.
The raven-haired beauty stood as soon as her name was called, her graceful form catching the eye of those around her. Before heading toward the gymnasium, she shared a few hushed words with Carla, who sat beside her. Their exchange was brief but seemed to offer some reassurance. As she made her way toward the gymnasium, she carried herself with quiet confidence.
Unlike the previous participants, who were all consumed by anxiety, Auranne's face held an apparent expression of determination. Whatever Carla had said to her had clearly made an impact, strengthening her resolve. She walked with purpose, the aura of unease still there, but now layered with a blanket of courage.
Not long after Auranne entered the gymnasium, something extraordinary happened.
Bang!
A thunderous explosion-like sound erupted from within, rattling the air and sending a wave of shock through the crowd. For a brief, breathless moment, everyone was frozen. Then, a brilliant bluish light began to seep through the gymnasium's windows, bathing the building in an ethereal glow. The light flickered and pulsed, casting a shimmering radiance that made the gymnasium appear as if it were a precious gem, glowing with life and power.
Gasps reverberated through the crowd, particularly from the students, as they watched the dazzling spectacle unfold. A collective sense of awe filled the air, the tension momentarily forgotten. Everyone understood the significance of the sight—finally, a successful awakening had occurred.
"Auranne Regios, fifteen years old, auxiliary-type innate gift!"
As soon as the magical scene faded, a booming voice erupted across the field. The announcement rang out like a triumph, confirming what everyone had already sensed—Auranne had succeeded.
A fresh wave of surprise rippled through the crowd, sweeping over them like a tidal wave. Even Maximus couldn't help but widen his eyes, his usual composure momentarily slipping.
When it came to innate gifts, it was well-known that anyone had the potential to awaken one. These gifts could manifest in a variety of forms: spiritual weapons, spiritual tools, elemental powers, special physiques, summoned beasts, and more. Once awakened, each gift would reveal its own unique abilities, intricately tied to its nature and functionality.
In Auranne's case, the gift she had just awakened was of the auxiliary type. This suggested that her gift could enhance her combat abilities or provide assistance in some other specialized way. The exact nature of her gift, however, would remain a mystery. While the staff inside the gymnasium could determine the general type of a gift, they could not fully uncover its true abilities. Only Auranne herself could truly know what her gift could do. And unless she chose to reveal it, no one would know the extent of its power.
'Auxiliary type, huh? Not bad at all...' Maximus remarked in his mind.
Although auxiliary-type innate gifts were often viewed as less prestigious than pure battle-type gifts, which could be wielded directly in combat to attack enemies, they were far from useless. In fact, their value lay in their versatility—whether enhancing one's abilities in subtle ways or offering assistance in crucial moments, they could still tip the scales.
In the end, an innate gift was still an innate gift. No matter how humble it might seem, awakening one was still a step ahead of those who didn't awaken anything at all. It could open up the opportunity for someone to cultivate and grow stronger. Even an auxiliary-type gift, with the right training and refinement, could become a powerful tool. What mattered wasn't just the gift itself, but how the bearer chose to develop it. The path ahead for someone with an awakened gift was full of potential—no matter the type.
It wasn't long before Auranne emerged from the gymnasium, escorted by someone from the staff. There was a newfound confidence in her step, and the very air around her seemed to shift, now filled with a palpable aura that hadn't been there before—strong and intimidating.
The pressure was enough to reach even Maximus's position. He could feel it, like a subtle weight pressing down on him. It was the kind of presence that demanded attention, the kind that made it clear Auranne's awakening wasn't just a success—it was a transformation.
The girl's happiness was unmistakable as she waved excitedly toward Carla, her smile wide and radiant. But instead of returning to her seat like the others, she was escorted toward the Academy's main building, a clear sign that successful participants were treated differently. Maximus watched with silent curiosity. He wasn't sure what the next steps entailed for someone like Auranne, but he was eager to find out for himself.
The envious gazes of the other students trailed Auranne as she made her way toward the main building, their eyes lingering until she disappeared inside. Her success had shifted the spotlight firmly onto her, making her the center of attention. It was obvious now that her path would diverge from theirs—particularly from those who had failed.
Maximus withdrew his gaze after Auranne vanished from view, his expression unshaken. Different from the others, there was no trace of envy in him. Confidence, firm and unwavering, had long settled within him. He believed with absolute certainty that he, too, would awaken his innate gift. The conviction surged through him like a steady pulse, each beat fueling his determination. He wasn't worried. His time would soon come, and when it did, he would prove himself just as capable.
As the process continued, dozens more participants were called up one by one, each carrying a mixture of hope and anxiety. Among them were some of Maximus' classmates—faces he recognized but didn't know well. Unluckily, most walked away disappointed, their expressions heavy with defeat, while only a few found success.
"Darius Arran, sixteen years old, auxiliary-type innate gift!"
"Gnaeus Opis, fifteen years old, beast-type innate gift!"
"Octavia Caria, fifteen years old, auxiliary-type innate gift!"
"Milonia Tanica..."
The announcer's voice boomed through the air with each successful awakening, ringing out like small victories. All these students emerged with expressions of pure joy, their faces shining with the glow of achievement. Just like Auranne, they, too, were whisked away to the academy's main building, being led to the unknown.
So far, most successful participants had awakened auxiliary-type innate gifts, surpassing those of other types. This aligned with what Maximus already knew: auxiliary gifts were the most common. The imbalance was due to the broad range of innate gifts classified under this category.
Innate gifts that manifested as spiritual tools or encompassed niche, non-combat, and non-elemental powers all fell into the auxiliary classification. It was no surprise, then, that auxiliary gifts were the most frequently awakened.
Soon, another name was called. The serious man on the podium announced, "Number 84! Your turn has come. Please stand up and proceed to the gymnasium!"
The one who rose was none other than Carla. It was her turn this time.
All eyes immediately turned toward her, peering at her sexy form. Yet despite the attention, the silver-haired girl showed no sign of nervousness. Her expression was calm, her confidence radiating in every subtle movement. A faint smile curled her lips as she strode forward, her steps light and effortless, as if she carried no weight of expectation or fear at all.
"Holy crap! Carla's a total snack. Look at that magnificent rear!"
"Heh, she's a real vixen, isn't she? Even now, she's still got that teasing look on her face."
"She doesn't even look nervous. I wonder if she'll make it. It'd be a shame if she doesn't."
"I think she will. Don't ask me why—I just have a feeling."
Comments about Carla came fast and furious, mostly remarks on her looks and allure. Pointless chatter, really.
Maximus could only roll his eyes at these comments. His gaze on Carla's back was different from the others. There was no admiration or anything dirty in his eyes—just curiosity. He was simply wondering how her awakening would unfold, nothing more.
The silver-haired girl quickly disappeared behind the gymnasium's entrance, and the crowd outside fell into another tense calm. Every eye seemed to hover over the building, waiting for what would happen next. For all her beauty and popularity, none of it would matter if Carla couldn't awaken her innate gift.
What was the use of being pretty? Without becoming a ranker, even the most stunning woman would be stuck in a mundane life, trapped in mediocrity, unable to step into the wider world with pride. A life like that would be nothing more than a waste.
Soft murmurs floated among the awaiting students once more—some speculating on whether Carla would succeed, others trying to mask their own growing anxiety as their turns drew nearer. Meanwhile, Maximus remained settled in his seat, arms crossed, his face a picture of calm. His relaxed posture stood in stark contrast to the restless energy that buzzed around him.
He already knew the outcome. Whether or not Carla could awaken her gift was no longer in question—her success was inevitable. It would happen soon, within a minute or two at most.