"We're arriving at the outer capital!" a carriage conductor called over his shoulder as his carriage jolted over the last stretch of cobblestone.
Inside, a lone passenger sat—blonde hair slicked back, dressed in a flawless white suit that shimmered faintly under the carriage's light. Round, blue tinted shades concealed his eyes, but the noble sharpness of his face was unmistakable.
He looked out the open window, silent.
The sky ahead boiled with dark clouds, flashes of distant lightning clawing across the horizon.
He reached into his coat, retrieving a golden pocket watch and flicked it open with a soft click. The hands ticked quietly against the rumble of the sky.
"…A storm is brewing," he murmured, voice like a low bell toll. His gaze lingered on to the sky but he was not implying the weather.
Meanwhile, at Nava.
Torma stood frozen on the platform, the wind from the ritual still swirling faintly around him. Nothing.
No shimmering form. No voice. No spark of recognition. Just the heavy thud of his heartbeat in his ears.
Lady Elis adjusted her glasses, her sharp gaze cutting through the thick air."Come down," she instructed everyone, tone flat.
"This," Elis said, hands behind her back, "is what we call… a dormant spirit.
"Dormant?" Torma trembled.
"Yes," She added on, "These spirits usually take longer to manifest themselves before their masters."
A collective oh! of relief spread through the crowd—until Elis raised a single finger.
"Though," she added, voice flat, "That would mean that it's a definite E Rank."
E Rank! He thought to himself.
"Dormant spirits have very low innate spiritual presence," she continued. "When they awaken, their abilities are either zero or… close to zero. To keep it short—an E rank spirit."
"Zero means that the ritual failed,"
"Oh come on!" Lee exclaimed.
"You can't be serious," Anos added.
"Does it look like I'm funny?" Elis inquired, "Currently He's either an E rank or Nothing at all."
Those words struck Torma like a hurricane and he descended the steps without being told, every stare piercing him like a needle.
His heart sank so far it felt like it was dragging the rest of him down with it. He could barely hear the whispers rising around him—mockery dressed in pity.
"Torma…" Aiz whispered, her voice trembling.
The label was set. The weakest Guard of the class without a doubt.
His friends moved in instantly, offering reassurances, but he smiled faintly—more for them than for himself.
When all was done, Elis closed the book in her hands. "The confidential part of the ritual is now complete. Tomorrow will be the public showcase—your graduation. All will display their innate elemental power before your parents, nobles, royalty, and of course," "The senior academy principals of all Prestigious institutions. In other words, the next level." "This event will be held at the kingdom's number one senior academy, Alpha"
"Finally," She paused, scanning the group. "Go home. Rest. But do not by any means- attempt to channel any spiritual energy before tomorrow.
Her gaze swept over them like a warning. "The results could be… catastrophic."
The sky grew heavier as the scent of rain thickened in the air.
Torma's friends tried to lift his spirits as they walked, tossing out clumsy reassurances and stories of underdogs who had defied their destinies.
He nodded, smiled where he could, but it was hollow, the rank pretty much define his fate.
When the road split, they exchanged goodbyes and drifted toward their own homes as always.
Only this time, Torma bumped into some unexpected trouble along his narrow lined path, Han and Wan.
The Two figures stepped into the narrow lane like they had met their prey. Han—and his short, round brother Wan.
Every instinct screamed for him to turn back, but Han's voice—calm, too calm—stopped him cold."Where do you think you're going?"
Torma's chest tightened. "Han—"
The rain began in fat, cold drops.
The first punch landed before the name was out, snapping his head sideways. Cobblestone scraped his palms as he staggered, but Han was already on him, shoving him into the wall.
"I told you I'd get you."
Wan waddled in behind, cutting off escape.
"No clowns here to protect you either,"
"What… what do you want?" Torma's voice shook.
Han's fist answered, exploding against his face. He sprawled into the pavement, tasting his blood as well as it's dirt.
"When they called me a D Rank, I was scared, truly. Thought maybe you'd pull something that'd overshadow me."
"Predator becoming the prey- Scary"
Torma tried to crawl back, but Han's boot crashed into his ribs.
"But of course… you couldn't even beat E rank. You're Nothing. Just like your parents."
Another slam into his ribs. Pain flared white-hot, and his breath caught.
Han straightened, breathing hard. "Let's make it interesting. KANG!"
A burst of orange light revealed a massive gorilla, its amber eyes settling on Torma—
Han grinned. "Take care of him."
But the spirit turned its head away from its master's gruesome scene and vanished.
Han's jaw twitched. "Fine. I didn't need you anyway."
Torma's palms scraped the ground as he tried to drag himself away.
"No…"
He pounced, fists crashing down onto Torma's body like hammers. "Because of you… my parents died in that fire!"
Flash
The rain was gone and screams could be heard from afar.
Han was small again—in a little noble attire, chasing after two figures in gleaming armor in the dark.Don't worry, son. We'll be right back.
The air was thick with smoke, the world an oven as the night sky, its spectator. A burning building roared ahead, its windows vomiting fire. Shadows moved inside—two people fighting something that shifted like oil and teeth.
There are still people that need our help!Father! Mother!
He stepped forward… but the heat shoved him back, skin blistering, eyes stinging. The shadows faltered. And then—just black.
Later, the adults would whisper: The crusaders that went in didn't make it out.
But the image burned into him wasn't of monsters. It was the younger Torma, standing in the rubble, eyes empty.
Han's fists clenched in the present, the rain hammering his face.
"If I were them," Han hissed in the present, "I'd have let your stupid noble family burn."
A final slam forced Torma's head into the mud. One eye swelled shut and the other... was gone. Blood pooling beneath him
"Brother!" Wan's voice wavered, his hand holding onto Han's blood stained fist. "He's… he's about to die!"
"And who said I didn't want him dead?" Han's voice was ice, as he stared at his brother. Drenched in rain and blood.
Wan shook his head, horrified. The magic in Han's strikes made every hit far beyond human strength—Torma's body was in shambles.
Han stood, looking up into the falling drops of rain as his shadow spilled on Torma.
"This story was never about you, Torma. It was always about the people around you. And the worst thing you do… is hurt them."
He stepped away, Wan trailing reluctantly behind.
"Because of you… we became orphans. So just do us a favor and die. Or I'll finish you off myself."
The rain fell harder, soaking through his clothes and battered body. Blood ran with the mud beneath him as he knocked at Death's door.