Normally, Chao-Seng High is a pit of academic dread and quiet misery. As the nation's most prominent school, it specializes in pressure. But today… today was different.
Today was Bearing Day.
The courtyard thrummed with the energy of all fifty-six twelfth-grade students. Eighteen-year-old bodies, primed for awakening—though some would inevitably be left behind.
That's where you find me. I'm nothing special: black hair in a standard Korean cut, blue eyes, a decent smile. The name's Jae-won, and this is the story of how I stopped being ordinary and became humanity's greatest warrior.
The ceremony kicked off with a dud. A kid from Class B stepped up, placed his hand on the shimmering silver orb—the Revealer—and nothing happened. A grim silence fell over the courtyard, clashing violently with the royal blue banners, the confetti shower, and the screaming hype. "The Biggest Day of Your Life!" the banners promised. For him, it was the end.
Next up was Nuon from my class. Purple hair, permanent cocky grin—a real piece of work. He swaggered up the makeshift platform, slapped his hand on the orb, and after a heartbeat, it flashed a brilliant, undeniable purple.
The Mischief Dragon had chosen him. Then, the number 3 blazed beneath the color. A Warrior. A Mischief-Warrior. The crowd erupted. The principal—a fat old man I've never seen walk more than two meters—clapped like his pension depended on it. Which, given the school's reputation, it probably did.
Then, my heart decided to join the ceremony. Soo-ah was called. Sweet, with long pink hair and… a lot of curves. She approached the Revealer, her hand trembling slightly. The orb glowed a soft, luminous pink. The Love Dragon. The number that followed was a 5. A Love-Mage. Rare and potent. My cheer got lost in the roar of the crowd.
Let me break it down, since the system's simple but new: The Revealer shows two things. First, which of the Nine Great Dragons claims you:
· The Sea, Sun, Earth, Thunder, Frost, Love, Mischief, and Shadow Dragons.
· And above them all, the legendary twins: The Hell Dragon and the Heaven Dragon.
Second, it shows your Class— the role your Dragon grants you (1 through 7):
1. Dungeon Snatcher
2. Tank
3. Warrior
4. Beast
5. Mage
6. Assassin
7. Spinner
Then, it was my turn.
I stepped up, a measured confidence buoyed by one thought: My dad was a Sun-Warrior. I have this. The principal offered a sweaty thumbs-up. I scanned the crowd, found Soo-ah's hopeful smile, and all the nerves dissolved.
My palm met the orb. Cold glass warmed instantly under my touch. A strange tingling ignited at the base of my skull, and my eyes began to sting.
The Revealer erupted in a crackling, electric light blue.
The Thunder Dragon.
I felt it immediately—a sharp, exhilarating current shimmering through my veins. Before I could even grin, the number solidified beneath the stormy hue: 4.
A Thunder-Beast.
The courtyard's cheer hit a brief, puzzled octave. Beast-class is rare enough, but a Thunder-Beast? The combination was unusual, but the applause didn't die. I'd awakened. A flicker of annoyance cut through the triumph—now I have to deal with the whole spirit animal hassle—but I shoved it down. Be grateful.
As I descended, Soo-ah was already there, her eyes wide. "No way, Jae-won! A Thunder-Beast! That's incredible!" She grabbed my hands, jumping, and—I'll admit—my attention snagged on the joyful physics of the moment. I chuckled nervously, looking away. "It's no big deal. You being a Love-Mage is way cooler."
She giggled, releasing me. "Thanks. But what are you going to do now?"
"What do you mean?" I slid my hands into my pockets.
"The spirit animal. Every Beast has to find theirs and fuse it with their Dragon's power." Her tone turned serious.
"Yeah… I still don't know what I'm gonna pick."
She tilted her head, frowning. Her arms crossed, which did things to her shirt. "You get to pick? I don't think that's how it works."
A cold trickle of sweat traced my temple. "Wait… we don't get to pick?"
"No. From what I know, you get a vision. A calling to a place. Your spirit animal will be waiting for you there."
I nearly screamed. Of course. With my luck, I'd be trekking to some swamp to bond with a depressed toad.
Soo-ah saw my despair. "Don't worry, Jae. A spirit animal reflects who you are… and who you're meant to become." She offered a reassuring smile.
I sighed, managing a weak one in return. "Yeah. So let's just hope I'm not meant to become a sloth."
Her laughter was the last clean sound I heard before the world of destiny swallowed me whole.
A heavy, expectant silence settled after my result. The ceremony's script had been followed: a failure, a few solid awakenings, a rare Beast. Standard, if you squinted.
Then a new name boomed from the announcer, slicing through the murmur.
"Kim Tae-sung."
A collective, visceral flinch passed through the crowd. Not excitement. Not curiosity. Dread.
All eyes swung to the left flank of the courtyard. There he was, and he wasn't waiting.
"MOVE! OUT OF MY WAY, YOU FUTURE LOSERS!" His voice was a raw, commanding snarl that physically parted the students. Black hair fell sharply over crimson eyes burning with manic intent. Kim Tae-sung. His reputation was for brutal, vocal chaos—a fighter who narrated his own violence and a maniac who said the quiet, terrible parts out loud.
He swaggered toward the platform, not stalking, but claiming. His gaze swept over his cringing peers. "All of you, remember this face! Remember you saw a god awaken today!"
The principal's sweaty smile had frozen into a rictus of terror and anticipation.
Tae-sung didn't pause. He slammed his palm onto the orb with a crack that made the wood groan. "Show me my destiny! Give me the power to break the world!"
The Revealer obeyed. It shattered into darkness. Not black, but a deep, light-absorbing void. From that void, veins of hellish crimson—the exact shade of his eyes—erupted, pulsing like a diseased heart.
A choked gasp escaped the announcer. "The… The Hell Dragon…"
"YES!" Tae-sung roared, throwing his head back as the power visibly coursed through him. Before the number even solidified—3, for Warrior—he was already proclaiming his future to the heavens. "HELL-WARRIOR! With the power of the Gods, I'll kill everyone in my path! I'll shatter the dungeons, topple the great pillars themselves, and stand atop the rubble! ALL OF YOU WILL BE FOOTNOTES IN MY STORY!"
For a second, there was only the thrum of terrible power and his echoing vow. Then, the principal absolutely lost his mind. He began hopping on the spot, his face purple with hysterical triumph, sweat spraying. "A HELL-WARRIOR! A PROPHECY! IN MY SCHOOL! GENERATIONAL! HISTORIC!" he screamed, voice cracking. The announcer had to physically pull at his sleeve, hissing, "Principal Hong! Composure, please! The ceremony!"
I stood frozen, Soo-ah's hand unconsciously gripping my arm. My newfound thunder felt like a static buzz in my veins compared to the slaughterhouse promise still hanging in the air. His words weren't just boasts; they were a manifesto. That… that's what I have to compete with? The thought wasn't ambitious; it was a death sentence.
Tae-sung descended, the cruel, satisfied smirk now a full-blown, terrifying grin. The crowd scrambled to clear a wider path. "Starting tomorrow, this world gets interesting!" he laughed, a sound that held no joy, only anticipation.
The atmosphere was thick with terror and awe when the next name cut through, a soothing balm by contrast.
"Park Min-jun."
A complete, almost theatrical, polarity shift. A sigh of pure relief and adoration swept through the students—especially the girls. Even Soo-ah's grip loosened as she turned, a faint blush on her cheeks. "Oh, it's Min-jun…"
I fought a scowl. Of course.
Park Min-jun glided forward. Impeccable white hair, eyes the calm blue of a mountain lake, features perfectly sculpted. Son of the Park conglomerate, the paragon. Where Tae-sung was a screaming fracture in the world, Min-jun was its polished, unshakable surface. He didn't acknowledge the hysterics; he simply moved with serene purpose.
His walk was grace itself. He gave the trembling, ecstatic principal a polite, measured nod, then placed his hand on the Revealer with the precision of a master craftsman.
The orb responded in kind. It didn't flash; it bloomed. A radiant, pristine gold so pure it felt cleansing, washing away the residual echo of Tae-sung's violent proclamations. It was warm, benevolent, and utterly commanding.
"The Heaven Dragon," the announcer breathed, reverence replacing his earlier panic.
The number that manifested was a graceful 5.
Heaven-Mage.
The courtyard exploded. This wasn't the fearful energy from before, but pure, euphoric pandemonium. Two mythical-tier awakenings. Back-to-back. In one ceremony. It was the birth of legends.
Principal Hong, tears now mixing with the sweat on his cheeks, screamed himself hoarse, hugging the horrified announcer. "THE STATUS! THE PRESTIGE! WE ARE MADE! WE ARE ETERNAL!"
Park Min-jun accepted the adulation with a humble bow, his perfect, peaceful smile never wavering. He caught Soo-ah's eye in the crowd and gave a slight, acknowledging nod—a silent promise of stability. She looked away quickly, but the fluster was clear.
And just like that, my moment was erased. My rare Thunder-Beast was a curious footnote. The puzzled looks, the brief cheer—all buried under the seismic impact of a screaming demon and a silent saint. The spark in my veins guttered, replaced by a cold, deflating weight in my gut.
Soo-ah, sensing my shift, turned back. "Jae-won? Are you okay?"
I stared at the two poles of our generation now dominating the space: Tae-sung, a loud, violent prophet of upheaval, and Min-jun, a quiet, untouchable king of order. The future had been written in hellfire and hallowed light.
I gave a hollow chuckle, the weak smile from before now completely gone. "Yeah. Just realizing I might need a spirit animal that's less 'cool' and more 'can-survive-the-apocalypse.'"
My joke fell flat. The truth was stark. In the shadow of a blaspheming demon and a heavenly prodigy, what chance did a thunder-struck underdog with a crush and a bad attitude really have?
The biggest day of my life had just ended. And the impossible climb had just begun.