The next morning, Ash stood in the grand hall of the Aragon estate. Before him sat his father Toru Aragon, patriarch of the family, flanked by elder warriors and masters.
The room was silent. Heavy.
"I've heard about your… change" Toru began.
He studied his son's posture, his eyes.
"You've awakened something. Something heavy. Something dangerous."
Ash knelt respectfully but said nothing. He couldn't explain what he himself barely understood.
One of the elders stepped forward.
"It's rare, but sometimes fighters awaken unique traits. Soul imprints. Bloodline echoes. But they're usually meaningless. Useless for real combat."
Another elder added:
"But you… what we saw… has weight. Bloodlust. Tragedy. Wrath."
The patriarch stood.
"We will test you. I'm sending you to the Kuroken Academy."
Ash's head shot up.
Kuroken. The most elite martial academy in the world. A crucible where only monsters survived the birthplace of legends.
"You will begin in Class B."
A hush fell over the elders. That was unheard of. No one skipped past Class F, let alone started in B.
Kuroken's Class System:
F – Beginners.
E & D – Basic and intermediate talents.
C – The gifted.
B – Exceptional. Hand-picked.
A – Regional champions.
S – Almost mythical.
"You've shown something we don't understand" Toru said. "Prove it's strength, not a curse."
Ash bowed his head.
Inside, his mind blazed.
'If this world is ruled by strength… then I'll rule it. With these eyes.'
And far away, within the sacred archives, the elders quietly debated:
"What we just saw… might not be human."
"That boy's gaze carries centuries of pain."
"We may have awakened a demon in our bloodline."