“Reminds me of when I was young. The ladies wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“We remember differently then.”
A burst of uproarious laughter sounded in the room.
Principal Quenthrill sat in the main seat watching the teachers, invited parents, consortiums, demon slayer teams, companies, and the like cheerfully examine this batch of students despite last year's slump.
The quality of last year was almost terrible but the reason everyone was at ease and could laugh was that the frontlines were stable and were even expanding under the vigorous assault of the youth from past years.
Six figures were blazing a bright path within Hallmaine currently and the pressure for the schools to produce fresh blood to fight against the aberrants on the front lines was lessened.
Wearing his gold monocle and dressed in a red vest and black suit, he heaved a sigh of relief.
The casualty rate for the newcomers and these children who would soon enroll in their duties was the lowest it had been for a while.
Still, fresh blood was needed so that the shelter could remain standing. The shantytowns were expanding even more from what he heard and more livable camps needed to be created for the wellbeing of the shelter’s inhabitants.
‘I hope at least three Bright Spark talents can be added to our ranks. If among the rest someone can rise to the level of a Mystic Bronze Commander in 10 years it would be even better .’ He inwardly prayed. The girl from the Rayniss family is a given but the others might not be Sparks.
This was not just for humanity but a bit of a selfish plea for himself, the more outstanding the talents and students, the more subsidies the institute would receive.
Last year’s was dismal, to say the least, even now those children hadn’t done anything particularly noteworthy. Furthermore, they were just a four-year course and Astrel Walker had long graduated and left.
If they didn’t get a somewhat good harvest of talents this year then at the end of the year some of his teachers were in danger of leaving and being poached! This he did not want to see.
***
IImar followed the gaze of his peers toward the individuals being led toward the awakening chamber.
Both crestfallen and happy faces were steadily being poured out but the onlooker's hearts were bitten by ants since they were forbidden to make any loud noises in the waiting room, only their close friends could whisper and once too many people started whispering in this room with twenty thousand teenagers it would be thunderous.
They had been warned and shown pictures of those who breached this rule while the awakeners showing off were safe due to their status, their families could still be whipped.
If their family members were awakeners they would be fined instead so it was relatively quiet in the room.
The only sounds were nervous gulps, chattering teeth, and some other intermittent sounds.
The awakened with happy faces were only asked by their friends ‘how did it go’. They told them and talked for a few seconds in whispers before shutting up.
The moment the noise exceeded a certain threshold all those who spoke would be punished.
Those with sad faces or crying could only leave dispiritedly since they weren't required to stay after today they would be reassigned to a technical school.
Ever so often the crowd would direct their gazes to a certain few placed in different sections of the queues based on when they arrived. These were the few guaranteed awakeners who would not fail.
Like Summer Rayniss they either had nobles as ancestors and several generations of awakeners in their direct lineage or they had tested their compatibility with a certain cursed material and successfully chose the best one. Typically they had either pristine quality black iron cursed materials or brass curse materials.
White Star District was the bottommost city and one of the only two districts with shanty towns filled with poor, naturally they did not have many noble families and wealthy merchants who could afford curse materials beyond the Brass quality.
Even then they would be concentrated in the noble-backed schools or those backed by the churches located in the inner city district.
Here in the middle district Brass was the peak and Bronze was only occasionally seen, people could get lucky after all. Silver Grade curse materials were almost unheard of in the middle district and even the entire leaf.
Only in the middle and upper city districts farther up the stem could those be seen.
“My dad did the Epic Ritual with the Venerable Aurudamir and got a rusty blade, after inspection the energy from it is at least Brass grade, I'll definitely awaken a good ability.” A curly-haired teenager with a big nose said to a girl beside him directly not hiding his pride.
IImar’s ears perked up hearing this. They were children after all so the rules had some leeway.
There were 5-minute intervals of complete silence but otherwise minor levels of noise were acceptable.
With the return of several awakened ones, the nervousness in the air was lessening and whispers became more frequent and heated.
Whispers could be heard occasionally but never too much, and those whispered to didn't always reply with words and sometimes used gestures like the popular slang gesture for ‘holy shit’ that was popular with his peers now.
The teenagers had even made a system inherited from previous years where the student council coordinated whispers to ensure no one was punished by monitoring the noise level precisely.
They also alternated who was allowed to talk based on flags. Seeing a yellow flag go out, those in IImar's region began chattering on cue.
“That bastard Sam, he waited until now to say something to watch us squirm pity, he’s not the only one with a Brass-ahem.” Jellal was about to curse their classmate when he realized what he was saying and stopped mid-way but IImar didn't care.
Jellal looked over at his best pal guiltily but didn't observe any changes in expression.
IImar had expected as much and was not surprised, the heights Yuhan Provost had achieved were envied by even adults, and even the gangs in the slums and outer city behaved like mice seeing a cat hearing his name.
Just the soup from such a big guy was enough to succeed in life.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The previous Freed might not have realized but he had noticed that this would be the case from the beginning.
Yuhan Provost was the prime example of why the Gods valued the Awakening Ceremony and ensured the bottom levels could participate. A combat power matching a battalion that arose from humble beginnings, a potential king or sage.
The Epic Ritual was also popular for future-minded persons and get-rich-quick individuals.
One long-sighted and the other short.
One saved the object received for their children and later generations and the other sold it to obtain hordes of money.
Both were popular among the bottom-level poor.
Of course, the more ‘reliable’ method was praying at least 6 hours a day to a specific god, being a stalwart believer, and then performing the awakening ceremony with that God which was proven to have a higher success rate.
In this world protected by the Seven such a method was seen as pious and holy and it was the go-to option for the poor who were often very religious.
The Epic Ritual was more seen as the materialistic approach over the years. It also wasn't guaranteed to bear fruit especially if you didn't meet the requirements well. Its birth from the happenstances of Ludas the trickster's legendary feat of smooth-talking a god also didn’t help the view that it was not as ‘holy’ as the other paragon rituals.
This has nothing to do with IImar however as he was purely pursuing an ability and not a cursed object to sell or pass down he was also sufficiently confident to take the risk.
Soon it was Jellal’s turn and he nudged IImar while leaving mouthing a ‘wish me luck’ and IImar did.
As the time drew closer IImar felt his eyes wandering, there he saw the many classmates nervously clutching their boxes holding their curse materials.
The most common type of box was made of ordinary wood with a smooth sanded-off finish. It was a complementary product for one of six standard curse materials on the market.
In the present times, of course, the situation wasn't as desperate for humanity as in the 300 years of darkness. Class F citizens whose income was split between paying off current or ancestral debts were only a section of the populace.
Even E-class citizens in poor households could still manage to save or borrow enough for the cheapest set of curse materials that had been optimized for the awakening ceremony.
Dedicated farms and stable production methods had long guaranteed the presence of six low-cost but effective curse materials on the market: ‘Keradan’s Teeth’, ‘Ruby Moss’, ‘Plant Saliva’, ‘Gerald Branch', ‘White Resin’ and ‘Tangled Roots of the Fellow’.
These materials were relatively cheap ranging from just 10 silver to 25 silvers and these were easily accessible to the average man and even had dedicated payment plans.
Of course, you had to meet several requirements to qualify for such plans. Typically at least an E-class citizen with good guarantors etc.
Several students in this batch even had older siblings who had failed before degrading the family to Class F status from the increased weight of debt.
Therefore the ratio of Class E and even D Class children who were the third, fourth, fifth child and so on who had one of the six was quite high due to lack of investment from their parents.
There was an estimated 45% of individuals with just one of the six for each batch of awakening candidates.
The lines went in parallel and it was not linearly done line by line so IImar got to see Jellal exit before it was his turn.
Jellal was so excited he was red-faced and had a nosebleed but his joy was enough to display the results.
IImar smiled seeing his happy friend.
“I guess he must have not only awakened but also got a good ability otherwise he wouldn't be so happy.”
He turned towards the corridor and saw the signal to approach. He took a deep breath. It would be a lie to say he wasn't nervous, especially since he was about to do something completely crazy and aim for stars beyond the sky.
But that was the path he had decided to take in this cruel world.
***
Illmar opened the gold-plated door crested with seven-pointed star and found himself in a white space.
Seven statues surrounded him.
Six were 15 meters tall and glowing with a holy light.
Only one towered over the others at 20 meters in height.
His breath was momentarily taken away before God’s servant, a tiny palm-sized fairy glared at him and pointed to hurry up. She was tiny with four pairs of wings and a peach-like complexion with big yellow eyes.
With tens of thousands of awakeners of course there needed to be assistants to ensure the children didn't extend the time of each individual awakening unnecessarily by doing things like standing in a daze before or after awakening.
It was the unified day of Awakening so it wasn’t just the middle district or even the entire White Star District but all six stem districts that were participating the number of candidates was absolutely massive.
IImar made his way to the Statue of the God of Epics, Tales, and Heroes.
He wore a magnificent three-colored robe and held a book in one hand and a sword in the other with a shield on his back and ornaments on his waist. But this wasn't the end as he had two faces and six arms each holding a unique weapon.
IImar quickly touched the statue and recited the request for a trial ritual in the tongue of Aspar taught in school.
An ancient voice with hints of power and playfulness sounded directly into his mind.
[Oh another one this year]
[Unlike 30 and 200 years ago the stream of challengers is not that plentiful. In recent years it would be surprising to see a dozen]
[Well child, your trial has begun. Now tell this God a tale that makes his heart a flutter]
IImar heard the magnetic voice with the vicissitudes of life echo in his mind, then he was brought to a different space from the awakening chamber.
A small figure with a pot belly, gold jewelry, and green jewel-like hair sat down. He was chubby and round and held a small curved dagger that he peeled an apple with.
A shining light obscured his facial features and only his body was seen reminiscent of a 3 year old child.
‘Ah, so I got the Pan Incarnation.’ IImar thought seeing the tiny figure.
Pan was a form of the God Aurudamir who controlled the wind. Pan was a mutant fairy who served the God of Epics rather than the Goddess of Life and had many stories about his heroic tales.
The fairies particularly liked them.
“Venerable Aurudamir, I'm a visitor from another world and I bring you a tale told by many that consumed the world, whose echoes reverberate even decades prior to its birth.”
Ilmar was tempted to ask if he could return to his previous world but he didn't dare, doing so was forbidden and would instantly interrupt the ritual marking it as a failure.
He could only speak about things relating to the story he would tell.
He gulped beginning his story afraid it would be unsuccessful.
The elements of a good story for Aurudamir were based on four points.
First, a brand new never-before-told story of heroes.
Second, a romantic tale rich with twists and turns.
Third, the story must have been heard by many but never told to him.
Fourth, the story must interest or amuse the god
Later generations further added their own points to get a specific ability.
The story must follow one individual or even better a group of similar individuals who all intersect and meet due to fate and not the forced contrived storytelling of the author.
Other unwanted abilities should also not be explained in detail and must only be explained enough for the story to flow.
The more aspects of the same ability you can show without making it seem like a new ability the better the chance of gaining one or several aspects of that ability.
Naturally, these points were hard to achieve and many struggled to satisfy even one often returning with nothing.
The rare few who succeeded only did so barely and got something from the God's mercy.
Only the true satisfaction of an epic tale could give a truly powerful ability. The better the tale and the more requirements it satisfies the more powerful the ability.
To this, IImar contrived a story that met the requirements around a certain broken ability inherited by those of a special clan.
Of course, he changed the perspective from the original telling to another to suit his needs and desires but it was the same story
“...It is the tale of Sasuke Uchicha and the Uchicha Clan.”
Thus the story began.