The Academy did not quiet after the announcement.
It recalculated.
Fourth.
The Sovereign Blade stood at fourth.
The Hero was ranked Fourth,
That word spread faster than mana through crystal.
Student Auditorium
The First years were standing in a military disciplined manner
Their Uniforms Black with Silver Linings were crisp and looked regal,
The Auditoriums door opened,
And the Student Council walked with authority and discipline,
Aurelia Raven entered first with Isabella tailing behind her,
Black uniform. Silver insignia. Unshaken gaze.
She did not raise her voice.
She did not need to.
"The rankings are confirmed."
A pause.
"No amendments. No appeals."
A murmur attempted to rise.
It died when her eyes shifted.
"The Academy rewards performance. Not expectation."
Crystalline panels ignited behind her.
"Privileges will be assigned based on standing."
" Now, as for the rewards for the top three",
Rank One.
— Tier III Mana Cultivation access.
— One Master-grade weapon refinement.
— Strategic consultation with faculty.
A student whispered, "As expected."
Aurelia heard it.
She ignored it
"For the Rank Two",
— Tier II cultivation.
— Advanced enhancement privileges.
"For Rank Three",
— Limited Tier II access.
— Archive permissions.
A student in the Auditorium raised his hand and asked "What about rank Four?",
Aurelia saw him and replied
Rank Four.
— Standard cultivation hours.
— No refinements.
— No archive priority.
Silence.
Max stepped forward before thinking.
"With respect, President Raven ..."
She looked at him.
He stopped mid-sentence.
"Yes?" she asked calmly.
He swallowed.
"…Nothing."
She did not blink.
"The ranking reflects measurable output. If you dispute the metrics, present superior ones."
No emotion.
No attack.
Just certainty.
Then the projection changed.
Stone corridors. Shifting terrain. Mana instability.
"The next evaluation will be Dungeon Clearance."
The hall stiffened.
Arzen frowned. "With current teams?"
"No," Aurelia replied.
The word cut cleanly.
"Teams will be reshuffled prior to descent."
Now the room truly reacted.
"What?" "That makes ranking irrelevant-" "So cooperation means nothing?"
Aurelia let the noise build.
Then-
"The battlefield will not preserve your comfort."
Silence returned.
"The dungeon environment will vary."
The projection flickered between scenes:
A frozen cavern.
A submerged ruin.
A volcanic corridor.
A gravity-distorted labyrinth.
"You will not know which environment you enter until deployment."
Someone muttered, "Unstable variables…"
"Correct," she said.
"War does not send invitations."
A student raised a hand cautiously.
"President Raven… what is the objective?"
"Clear the core."
"And if we fail?"
Her gaze did not shift.
"You will not."
"Because Academy doesn't tolerate failures",
No reassurance. No comfort.
Just expectation.
"Prepare."
She stepped down.
The chamber dismissed.
The corridor felt narrower.
Max exhaled sharply.
"Reshuffled teams? What's the point of ranking then?"
Arvin answered calmly.
"To measure individual adaptability."
Rhett added quietly, "And expose weaknesses."
Max turned to Leonardo.
"You're not saying anything."
Leonardo stood still.
"Because complaining changes nothing."
Max's frustration sharpened.
"We secured the Beacon first."
"And lost tempo," Arvin replied.
Max snapped, "Stop repeating that."
Leonardo finally turned.
"We advanced under assumption."
Max frowned. "Assumption of what?"
"Superiority."
Silence.
"I engaged to dominate. Not to endure."
Rhett looked up slightly.
"And now?"
Leonardo's voice lowered.
"Now I adjust."
Max studied him.
"You're not angry."
Leonardo met his gaze.
"I am."
A pause.
"But anger without correction is weakness, and a King doesn't show weakness",
That ended the discussion.
Imperial Palace
The Emperor watched the report without expression.
Fourth.
The Intelligence Minister stood beside him.
"He did not contest the ranking."
"Did he blame others?" the Emperor asked.
"No."
"What did he say?"
"He acknowledged inefficiency."
A long silence followed.
Then,
"Good."
The Minister blinked.
"Fourth place removes illusion."
The Emperor turned away from the projection.
"Monitor the dungeon."
His voice was calm.
"If he stagnates, inform me."
Not anger.
Expectation.
Cold and absolute.
Western Region - Ravenhold
Wind tore across the western cliffs.
Inside the upper chamber of Ravenhold, a projection shimmered.
Gerald Lionheart appeared.
Duke Aleric Raven stood opposite him, arms loosely folded.
No greetings.
Aleric spoke first.
"Fourth."
Gerald exhaled slowly.
"You're enjoying that too much."
"I am."
A pause.
"He moved early," Aleric continued.
"He always does."
Gerald gave him a look.
"You say that like you're surprised."
"I'm not," Aleric replied calmly. "I'm disappointed."
Gerald tilted his head slightly.
"At his skill?"
"No."
"At his restraint."
Silence settled between them.
"He fights like the battlefield owes him space," Aleric added.
Gerald almost smirked.
"That's called arrogance."
"That's called liability."
A brief pause.
"Did he rage?" Aleric asked.
"No."
"Blame someone else?"
"No."
"What did he say?"
Gerald's voice remained steady.
"He admitted inefficiency."
Aleric's brow lifted slightly.
"Admitted?"
"Yes."
"Interesting."
Wind pressed faintly against the stone walls.
"The problem isn't his strength," Gerald said.
"It's that he assumes strength is enough."
Aleric nodded once.
"Royal habit."
Gerald shrugged lightly.
"Common among the gifted too."
Aleric's mouth curved faintly.
"You included?"
"I grew out of it."
"You were beaten out of it."
"That too."
A small silence.
"The dungeon?" Aleric asked.
"Reshuffled teams. Variable environments."
"Good."
"No predictability."
"Even better."
Aleric stepped closer to the projection.
"If he walks in believing he is the axis of the battlefield, the dungeon will correct him."
Gerald's eyes sharpened slightly.
"That's the point."
Aleric studied him.
"You're not protecting him."
"No."
"You're sharpening him."
"Yes."
Aleric gave a faint, dry smile.
"Try not to break him."
Gerald's expression didn't change.
"If arrogance breaks him, he was never worth tempering."
A long pause.
Then Aleric said quietly-
"The Ravens will observe."
"As they always do."
Their eyes met.
Old understanding.
No sentiment.
Just history.
"Fourth place," Aleric said one last time.
Gerald sighed.
"If you say that again, I'm cutting the projection."
Aleric almost laughed.
"Send him into the dungeon."
"So where's Uncle Alfred?"asked Gerald,
"Well same place in his training", Aleric replied
"Man I still get shivers whenever I think about his room"
"Yeah me too, Hahaha"
"When will you come to the Western Region, it's been 10 years since you came here" Aleric asked
Gerald remained silent,
"You know it wasn't your fault, she was suffering from Mana poisoning", Aleric said once again looking at his friend whom he had spent 15 years of his life together, it pained him seeing his once enthusiastic person turn into someone so silent,
Gerald remained silent, seeing this Aleric changed the topic and started talking about the Empire,
After half an hour,
The projection faded.
Wind roared over Ravenhold.
And far beneath the Academy,
Something ancient waited.