The academy buzzed with restless energy. First-year students from Room A to Room C were caught in a whirlwind of emotions—some filled with excitement, others drowning in silent dread. This was the day that determined everything. The End of Semester Evaluation wasn't just a test of progress; it was a reckoning.
Unlike the Awakening Ceremony, which had been a grand event for all, these evaluations were conducted separately in their respective classrooms. Room teachers would be overseeing the process, and some high-profile instructors, like Dorne and Lady Poffin, were also present, observing their chosen students.
The stakes were clear—pass and move forward, or fail and be dropped.
Denwen, Roy, and Kara walked into the classroom together, the tension in the air palpable. Students were either nervously whispering among themselves or sitting rigidly at their desks, deep in thought.
Kara nudged Denwen lightly with her elbow, a teasing smile on her lips. "I guess there won't be anyone collapsing today."
Denwen shot her a dry look. "You just had to bring that up."
Roy smirked, adding fuel to the fire. "Come on, the porter boy isn't that weak-minded anymore."
Denwen sighed. "You two really fit each other, you know? You've both got a talent for setting just the right mood."
Roy and Kara exchanged glances before grinning at him.
"See? He does get us."
Denwen shook his head, moving toward his usual seat at the back. But as he did, his gaze locked onto Angus—and the moment their eyes met, a cold chill crawled up his spine.
Angus sat at his desk, arms crossed, his face a mask of silent rage. But then—his expression shifted. The anger melted into something worse… a smirk. A wicked, knowing smirk.
Denwen felt his steps slow involuntarily.
"Look who decided to show up today," Angus mused, his voice casual, but laced with something sharp. His smirk widened. "I guess your little breakthrough must've put you in really high spirits."
The room grew noticeably quieter as nearby students turned their attention to the brewing exchange.
Denwen stopped in his tracks, keeping his posture relaxed but his voice steady.
"Well, isn't that a lot coming from someone who's still at the level of a measly Grade D?"
A few students snickered. Someone in the back muttered, "Damn…"
Angus didn't flinch. He merely chuckled, shaking his head like he was humoring a child who didn't know better.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his gaze never breaking away from Denwen's.
"I suppose I'll just let you enjoy your little bubble, then," Angus said smoothly. "It'll be so much more satisfying when I burst it."
His voice dripped with certainty.
Denwen felt it—the weight behind his words. It wasn't just an empty threat. Something was up.
His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, but he didn't let his expression falter. Instead, he held Angus's stare for a few lingering seconds before finally smirking back.
"You're welcome to try."
Angus's smile widened, but there was something dark behind it.
Denwen didn't wait for a reply. He turned and headed toward his seat at the back of the class, but the unease in his chest lingered.
'Something's definitely up with him.'
—-
This outcome had been expected by many students. They were well aware of the timeless feud between the two boys, and after Denwen's surprising breakthrough in the last duel, anticipation had only grown. Today's evaluation would determine more than just rankings—it would set the tone for the coming semester.
The classroom buzzed with murmurs and hushed whispers, excitement and anxiety weaving together in the air. That energy, however, was immediately silenced when the crisp echo of footsteps rang through the room. Kael had arrived.
The instructor strode in, his long coat shifting as he carried a sleek, black briefcase. Without a word, he placed it on the table at the center of the room, clicking it open with a practiced motion. A faint hum of power pulsed from within, drawing the students' gazes.
"Good morning, class." His voice was measured but carried an unmistakable authority. "I can see some of you are quite eager for today's evaluation, while others… not so much." A wry smirk touched his lips before fading.
"We all know what's coming, and I'd like to be efficient so we can move on with our day. I deserve a break as much as you do." He gave a half-hearted sigh before continuing, eyes sweeping over the students.
"This semester has yielded some... interesting surprises. Some who were expected to rise have stagnated, while others—against all odds—have clawed their way forward. However, speculation ends today. This evaluation will reveal the true standing of every student here."
A few students fidgeted, exchanging nervous glances.
Kael's expression darkened slightly. "As I mentioned at the start of the semester, anyone who hasn't broken through to Mid Rank 1 will be dropped from the class. No exceptions." His sharp gaze lingered on a few individuals, assessing them as though he already knew the outcome.
With that, he lifted the lid of the briefcase, revealing a smooth crystal orb nestled inside. The room fell utterly silent, the orb's faint glow casting eerie reflections across Kael's face.
"Step forward, one at a time," he instructed. "Just place your hand on the ball and infuse your essence. It will extract your true strength whether you try to hide it or not." He arched a brow. "Don't ask how—just don't be stupid. Thanks."
A few chuckles broke the tension, but it was fleeting. The real test was about to begin.
"Alright, Number 50—Dor Dum. Step forward."
A timid boy hesitantly rose from his seat. He was among the few D-grade talents in the class, and though Denwen didn't care for him personally, he was aware that his own progress had given hope to students like Dor. But there was always a stark divide between hope and reality—and reality was unforgiving.
Dor approached the orb, placed his hand on it, and the glow intensified. Numbers formed above the sphere, displaying his strength for all to see.
The result was immediate. He had failed to reach Mid Rank 1.
A heavy silence settled over the room. Dor's shoulders slumped, and he quickly shuffled back to his seat, avoiding everyone's gaze.
One by one, the bottom ten students stepped forward, only to be met with the same crushing fate. Some clenched their fists in frustration. Others, unable to bear the humiliation, quietly left the room altogether.
The names continued.
Kara approached when it was her turn, her movements controlled yet resolute. The orb flared as she infused her essence, and her results displayed a solid improvement.
Denwen met her gaze and gave a small nod of acknowledgment. She responded with a smirk before folding her arms and looking elsewhere, as though his approval didn't matter.
Then—
"Number 5—Denwen Hale."
A ripple of whispers spread through the classroom, though none were truly surprised.
Denwen walked forward at an unhurried pace, placing his hand on the orb. The essence within him surged, and for a moment, the crystal seemed to thrum in response, as though recognizing something beyond its usual readings.
The numbers appeared.
It wasn't anything grand in the grand scheme of things, but for a D-grade talent, it was nothing short of astonishing. A few students exchanged stunned glances. Even with his unique physiology, most had expected him to be, at best, 15th in the rankings. But Denwen kept defying expectations—and that alone was enough to stir unease among some of his peers.
Vorden and Agrona clapped for him enthusiastically, while Kara only huffed, pretending not to care.
Angus, however, just rolled his eyes.
"Tch." He leaned back in his seat, unimpressed.
Kael moved on. "Number 4—Jay Mankin."
Jay stepped forward, his expression calm and composed. He had once been second in the class, but over the weeks, he had been dethroned. Despite this, his progression remained solid—he was the closest C-grade talent to Peak Rank 1.
His results showed as much, earning nods of approval from both his instructor and his peers.
Then—
"Number 3—Melissa Ignisclade."
A hush fell over the room as Melissa rose with unmistakable elegance, flipping her silver hair with a slow, deliberate motion. Every movement oozed confidence.
She had never challenged Denwen, Roy, or Jay in combat, opting instead to defeat weaker opponents to accumulate more points. It was a calculated strategy—and one that had paid off.
The orb glowed, and then—
GASPS.
"She's at Peak Rank 1?!"
"That's a B-grade talent for you…"
Whispers erupted across the room. Melissa closed her eyes briefly, basking in the admiration. Her instructor, Lady Poffin, smiled in satisfaction, clapping lightly.
Kael didn't linger.
"Number 2—Angus Emberbane."
Angus rose with a smug air, exuding the same quiet arrogance as always. But Denwen had begun to notice something different—a certainty in his demeanor.
"Did he… break through as well?" Denwen mused, narrowing his eyes.
Angus made his way forward, pausing slightly to lock gazes with Denwen. It wasn't just a glance—it was a silent challenge.
The orb pulsed, revealing his results.
Angus had indeed broken through.
A mix of awe and dread filled the room, yet Denwen only sighed, rolling his eyes as Angus took his moment of glory.
And finally—
"Number 1—Roy Clifford."
Roy stretched lazily before standing up. He barely looked concerned, offering a carefree yawn as he walked toward the orb.
Across the room, Dvalin's grin widened, sending a shiver down Vorden's spine.