The Grand Hall emptied, leaving only three of us standing before the dais—Malrik, Isolde, and myself. The others had been herded away to their classes, still buzzing with whispers.
The Principal descended the steps. His shadow fell over us like the spread of wings.
"You three stand apart," he said, his voice low but carrying. "But do not mistake placement for triumph. S Class is not a gift, It is a crucible. Those who falter are stripped of the title and sent down. Permanently."
His words weighed more than the chandeliers overhead.
Beside him, Vice Principal Selene Arkwright lifted a hand. The air shimmered, and the floor beneath us shifted. Symbols ignited, spiraling into a circle that yawned open like a gate.
"Your first trial begins now," she said. "Survive it, and prove your claim."
The ground swallowed us whole.
We landed in a cavern of firelit stone. Heat pressed against our skin. Torches burned along jagged walls, casting monstrous shadows.
Ahead, three gates rumbled open. Wolves padded out, one by one, their eyes glowing like embers. Not ordinary beasts—these were creatures warped by the Academy's trials, stronger, faster, deadlier. Dozens of them, forming a circle around us.
Malrik's fists clenched. His aura flared, raw determination flooding the cavern. "Good. A real fight!"
Isolde drew the short blade at her waist, her eyes calm, calculating. "We should not waste strength. Conserve movements. Strike only to kill."
I said nothing. My gaze slid across the wolves, measuring patterns. The way they moved. The way the Academy had bred them to test us.
Above, the Principal's voice echoed through the cavern, distant yet clear. "The rules are simple. Each beast you kill is worth points. The one with the most points at the end of the trial will be declared first among S Class. There is no cooperation. There is no safety net. Fight—or fall."
Malrik grinned like a flame catching wind. Isolde steadied her stance, blade gleaming.
And me?
I closed my eyes briefly.
[Disintegrate]
The nearest wolf's legs dissolved into dust mid-stride. It crashed to the ground, snarling helplessly.
[Integrate]
Its predatory sharpness, its speed, its muscle memory—I drew them into myself, threads of essence stitching into my bones. My body felt lighter, sharper, hungrier.
The System responded with a cold whisper.
[
[
[
My lips curved. Perfect.
Malrik roared, charging headlong into the pack. His fists cracked jaws and shattered spines, every punch driven by sheer willpower. The boy was a forge of determination, reckless but unyielding.
Isolde moved like water over glass. She slipped between lunges, her blade carving throats with clinical precision. No wasted steps, no wasted breath.
But me?
I walked into the wolves as though I belonged among them. Their snarls faltered. Their fangs hesitated. And one by one, they collapsed into dust—legs, hearts, throats—disintegrated, stripped, and folded into me.
Their traits stacked, layering power onto power. Speed, strength, instinct, resilience. All mine.
Above, I could almost hear the teachers murmuring. Fear? Awe? Confusion? It didn't matter.
By the time the trial ended, the cavern floor was littered with corpses. Malrik stood bloodied but grinning, chest heaving. Isolde's blade dripped crimson, her face calm but pale.
And I stood untouched. Clean. Stronger than before.
The scoreboard flared in the air:
Malrik Veynor – 312 Points
Isolde Thorne – 247 Points
Zeryth Malakar – 1000 Points
The Principal's voice cut through the silence.
"Zeryth Malakar," he said, his tone unreadable. "First among S-Class."
Gasps echoed even through the sealed cavern walls.
I simply smiled.
This is only the beginning.