The air in the Temple of Dawn hung thick with incense and anticipation. Rows of hopefuls stood before the sacred orb, their futures about to be carved into their souls. I watched as one by one, they stepped forward, their fates announced to the murmuring crowd.
**"Warrior."**
A broad-shouldered blacksmith's son exhaled in relief. Not glamorous, but dependable.
**"Warrior."**
The second one, a farmer's boy, looked less thrilled.
**"Chef."**
A plump girl grinned—her family ran an inn. At least she wouldn't go hungry.
**"Teacher."**
A bookish youth adjusted his spectacles, already looking like he belonged in a lecture hall.
Then came the first surprise.
**"Erotic Toy Crafter."**
Silence. Then a wave of stifled laughter. The recipient, a wiry guy with a smirk, didn't seem bothered. If anything, he looked like he'd just won a bet.
I made a mental note to remember his face. That was a man who'd either become very rich or very dead.
---
### **The Divide Between Common and Rare**
The next thirty awakenings blurred together—more warriors, a few craftsmen, a single **"Herbalist"** that had the nobles whispering about potential alchemical talent. Then, finally, something different.
**"Cavalry Knight."**
A surge of energy, and beside the young man materialized a spectral steed, its mane flickering like mist. The crowd murmured appreciatively. That was a proper combat class, one that could earn a commission in a lord's retinue.
Then came the first **Beast Master**.
**"Rhino Rider."**
A hush fell as a tiny, snorting rhinoceros formed in the boy's arms. It was barely the size of a dog, but the way its stubby legs kicked at the air promised terrifying potential. Noble scribes scribbled furiously. A Rare-tier class—valuable.
The procession continued. Another hundred names, another hundred fates.
**"Ember Hawk Tamer."** (A falcon made of living embers perched on the girl's shoulder.)
**"Twin Saber Swordsman."** (The man's hands twitched like he was already gripping phantom blades.)
**"Drug Cultivator."**
That one made the nobles lean forward. The recipient, a lanky youth with sunken eyes, suddenly found himself the center of attention. A class that could produce combat stimulants, healing elixirs—or poisons. Useful.
And then the nobility's turn began.
---
### **The Nobles' Advantage**
The first noble, a preening peacock of a boy with the Duskthorne crest on his cloak, swaggered up to the orb. His hand touched the surface, and the light flared gold.
**"Lesser Beast Shaman. Epic-tier. Can bond three spirit beasts and channel one for physical enhancement."**
A spectral wolf materialized at his side, its form shimmering like heat haze. The noble—Damien, I'd heard someone call him—grinned like he'd been handed the world. Then his eyes locked onto me.
**"That peasant has a Re-Awakening Stone!"**
The accusation rang through the temple. Priests stiffened. The crowd turned.
For a heartbeat, I thought I was done for. Then the High Priest's staff struck the marble with a resonant *crack*.
**"The Goddess does not discriminate between noble and common blood."** His voice brooked no argument. **"But given the stone's nature, this one will awaken last."**
Damien's glare promised retribution. I ignored him, watching instead as the rest of the nobility took their turns.
The difference was staggering.
Where commoners received solid but unremarkable classes, the nobles consistently emerged with enhanced versions. **"Knight"** became **"Highblade Duelist."** **"Mage"** became **"Stormcaller Adept."** The divide wasn't just in power—it was in *opportunity*.
And then came the three everyone had been waiting for.
---
### **The Legends**
Princess Lysandra approached with the grace of someone who'd never doubted her worth. When her fingers brushed the orb, the light didn't just shine—it *blazed*.
**"Greater War General. Legendary-tier."**
The words hung in the air. A commander's class. One that could turn battles. The nobles practically salivated.
Next, Lady Elara Minerva. Her awakening was quieter but no less impressive.
**"Shining Knight. Lesser Star Knight. Legendary-tier."**
Starlight flickered around her, as if the very heavens had taken notice.
Then came Reginald Bradford, the Grand Duke's heir. The orb *screamed* with energy.
**"Greater Griffin Knight. Knight Commander. Legendary-tier."**
A silver-feathered griffin chick materialized in his arms, already nipping at his sleeves. The message was clear—this was a man born to lead.
And then, at last, it was my turn.
---
### **The Chicken Knight No Longer**
Four hundred pairs of eyes tracked my steps. Whispers of **"commoner"** and **"thief"** followed me. I ignored them, focusing instead on the orb's smooth surface. The Re-Awakening Stone burned in my palm as I pressed my hand against it.
**"Chicken Knight. Lesser Beast Master. Greater Warrior."**
Laughter erupted.
Then the stone *flared*.
The orb's voice boomed again, louder, deeper.
**"Beast Monarch. Greater Warrior. Unique-tier."**
Silence.
The light twisted, forming images—a wolf, then a stag, then a creature that was both. The orb explained, not just to me, but to all:
*"You do not simply tame beasts. You conquer them. Each victory remakes you. Each kill reshapes your soul. But beware—power demands sacrifice. To grow, you must lose. To ascend, you must fall."*
Damien's face twisted in fury. The nobles stared. The priests looked at me like I was both miracle and omen.
And Gerald, leaning against a pillar in the back, raised a tankard in salute.
**"Now the real fun begins."**