The chamber stayed silent.
Rovan didn't move at first. He simply stared at the floor where the stone had warped inward, fingers tightening briefly around the hilt of his sword before he forced them to relax.
Then he looked at Cael.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"…That wasn't something a D-rank does," Rovan said.
Cael remained still, one knee on the ground, breathing measured as the pressure behind his eyes ebbed away. The strange clarity faded, leaving only the echo of weight in his bones.
"I didn't plan that," Cael said quietly.
Rovan snorted once. "That makes it worse."
He turned without another word and walked to the desk at the edge of the chamber, flipping open the evaluation ledger with more force than necessary. Pages turned. Stopped. Turned again.
He skipped an entire section.
Cael noticed.
The quill scratched firmly against parchment.
"B-rank," Rovan said.
The word hung in the air.
Cael's head lifted.
Rovan glanced back over his shoulder. "Don't look so surprised. You've got better control than half the idiots I've evaluated this year, and your combat sense is sharper than it has any right to be."
He closed the ledger with a decisive thump.
"Your mana core's solid. Your output's clean. And whatever that last thing was—" he gestured vaguely toward the floor, "—I don't need to understand it to know it's dangerous."
Rovan faced him fully now.
"B-rank adventurers are expected to explore dungeons independently," he continued. "You meet the standard."
Cael stood slowly, steady on his feet despite the lingering fatigue.
"…Even at my age?"
Rovan's mouth twitched. "Especially at your age. Anyone who survives long enough to reach B-rank this young isn't normal. The Guild exists to make use of people like that."
Not train them.
Not protect them.
Use them.
Cael nodded once. "Understood."
Rovan studied him for a moment longer, then sighed. "Try not to die in your first dungeon. It reflects poorly on my paperwork."
Cael smiled faintly. "I'll do my best."
The night air felt cooler when Cael stepped back into the city.
Xyrus hadn't changed. The mana lamps still glowed softly, and the streets still murmured with life—but Cael felt heavier now, in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
B-rank.
That meant real dungeons.
Real danger.
Real growth.
Back in his room, Cael sat cross-legged on the bed and focused inward, feeling the steady pulse of his mana core. It was stronger than before, denser—enough that the strange influx he'd felt earlier no longer threatened to overwhelm him.
The pressure behind his eyes had dulled faster this time.
"…So the stronger I get," he murmured, "the easier it becomes."
Not harmless.
But manageable.
His thoughts returned to the moment gravity had answered him.
Not violently.
Not explosively.
It had simply existed.
The idea sent a quiet thrill through him.
Training under altered gravity. Strength refined instead of forced. A body shaped to endure pressure rather than break beneath it.
Dungeon exploration would be perfect for that.
Unpredictable terrain. Constant movement. Risk that demanded adaptation.
As Cael reached for Orion's ring once more and opened the space within, the truth settled fully in his mind.
This wasn't a beginning anymore.
It was momentum.
And with a B-rank badge at eight years old, the world had officially stopped treating Cael Ardyn as something fragile.