The crystal floated above the altar like a fragment of a captured star.
It hummed softly, a pale blue light pulsing in rhythm with the dozens of nervous heartbeats in the ceremony hall. Every time someone stepped forward and placed their hand on the crystal, the light flared, and glowing text formed in the air for everyone to see.
Class. Rank. Potential.
It was supposed to be the proudest day of a person's life.
Lio stood in the back row, palms sweaty against the rough fabric of his borrowed jacket, and tried not to think about how many ways a life could go wrong in a single second.
"Stop fidgeting," whispered the boy beside him.
Lio glanced sideways. The boy's name was Rell, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a new shirt that actually fit him. Rell grinned, confident in a way Lio could never quite fake.
"You are going to shake a hole in the floor," Rell added.
"I am not fidgeting," Lio muttered.
Rell raised an eyebrow and nodded down. Lio looked. His right foot was bouncing rapidly, heel tapping, heel tapping, heel tapping. He forced it still.
"Better?" he asked.
"A little." Rell's grin widened. "Relax. With how much you study numbers and skill tables, you will probably get some weird strategist class and boss us all around."
"Strategist classes are rare," Lio said automatically. "Only one in a few thousand awaken to them."
"Then you will be that one," Rell said. "You are annoying enough with your explanations."
Lio snorted despite himself. The hall was too warm, the air thick with perfume, polished wood, candle smoke, and the quiet buzz of whispers. Parents and siblings filled the seats on both sides, watching. The banners of the kingdom hung from the high stone walls, each embroidered with a shining crystal.
At the front, a priestess in white robes stood beside the hovering Awakening Crystal, hands clasped, eyes closed in silent prayer. Standing a little behind her was Aria.
Lio's gaze found her automatically.
Aria wore the academy's formal uniform: dark jacket trimmed with silver, white shirt, dark slacks tucked into polished boots. Her honey-brown hair was braided and pinned up, a few loose strands framing her face. Even from this distance, Lio could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she stood just a bit too straight.
She caught him watching.
For a heartbeat, their eyes met. Her lips twitched into a small, quick smile that did something weird to his chest.
Then someone called her name.
"Aria Velnor," the priestess announced. "Step forward."
The hall quieted at once. Aria's family sat in the front row: her father in a dark coat with a captain's insignia on the shoulder, her mother in deep green silk, hands folded neatly in her lap. Both watched with calm, expectant eyes.
Aria took a breath, turned, and walked up to the crystal. She did not hesitate. She placed her right hand against the glowing surface, fingers splayed.
The crystal's light flared bright white.
A single note rang through the hall, clear as a bell struck in cold air. The floating light above the altar twisted, gathered, and then burst outward, forming glowing letters that hung in the air for everyone to see.
CLASS: ELEMENTAL KNIGHTRANK: A
A ripple of sound passed through the hall.
"An A-rank…"
"Elemental Knight? At sixteen?"
"Incredible…"
Aria's father let out a short breath, the closest thing to openly showing pride Lio had ever seen from him. Her mother's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.
Rell whistled low under his breath. "Well. There goes your chance of bossing her around."
Lio ignored him, eyes locked on the text above Aria's head. Elemental Knight. A-rank. A front-line class that combined swordsmanship with elemental magic. Strong offense, strong defense, high growth potential. The sort of class people dreamt about.
Aria lowered her hand, staring up at the letters with wide eyes, as if she did not quite believe them. Then she turned slightly, searching the crowd.
Her gaze found Lio again.
He raised his hand and gave her an awkward thumbs-up.
Her smile, this time, was bigger. Real.
He felt, absurdly, like he might float.
The priestess cleared her throat. "Aria Velnor," she said, voice carrying through the hall. "An excellent blessing. May you grow strong and protect this kingdom."
"Thank you, Lady Priestess," Aria said, bowing.
She stepped aside to stand with the newly awakened, and the ceremony continued.
One by one, more names were called.
"Rell Harven."
Rell stretched his shoulders and grinned. "Wish me something good."
"A decent brain," Lio said.
"Too late."
Rell jogged down the aisle amid scattered chuckles. He slapped his hand on the crystal with casual confidence.
Light flared again. Letters formed.
CLASS: SHIELD FIGHTERRANK: B
The crowd reacted with impressed murmurs.
"Solid."
"Reliable front-liner."
"A B-rank, nice…"
Rell whooped and nearly punched the air before catching himself and remembering he was supposed to be dignified. He bowed to the priestess, then turned and shot Lio a broad smile and a triumphant thumbs-up.
Lio smiled back, though his stomach felt like it had been quietly tied into a knot.
Rell had a B-rank. Aria, an A-rank.
What about him?
His own parents sat further back, not in the front rows reserved for important soldiers and merchants. His father had his arms crossed, face unreadable, while his mother clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles were white.
They had not said much that morning.
His father's only words had been: "Do your best."
His mother had just smoothed his hair and said, "No matter what class you awaken to… we will manage."
It was meant to be comforting. It sounded like someone preparing for the worst.
Name after name. C-rank Ranger. B-rank Spearmaster. C-rank Flame Mage. The hall filled with applause and murmurs, pride and envy, laughter and relieved sobs.
Lio watched it all like it was happening behind glass.
He knew the odds. Most people awakened to C-rank classes. A few got B. A-ranks were rare and envied, like Aria. S-ranks were the stuff of legends and bards' songs.
F-rank existed, technically. In the encyclopedias. In the probability tables.
Almost no one talked about them.
"Lio," someone whispered behind him, "you okay?"
He turned slightly. It was Tessa, a timid girl with ink stains on her fingers, from too many nights copying notes by candlelight. They had studied skill theory together.
"Yeah," Lio lied. "Just… waiting."
She offered him a shaky smile. "Me too."
He made himself smile back for her.
He was not special. He knew that. He was not the strongest, the fastest, or the bravest. He came from a lower-town family with no noble blood, no famed warriors in their lineage. The only thing he was good at was remembering numbers and calculating things.
He had memorized skill growth curves for fun.
He knew, statistically, that the most probable outcome for him was a solid, forgettable C-rank class. Maybe a back-line Support, maybe something like Scout or Apprentice Mage if some miracle happened.
Mediocre, maybe. But usable. survivable.
He would be fine with that.
He repeated it in his head, like a spell.
I will be fine with that. I will be fine with that. I just do not want to be…
"Lio Faren."
The priestess's voice cut through his thoughts.
The hall fell surprisingly quiet.
A few people turned their heads. Lio felt their attention like weight on his shoulders.
"Go," Rell mouthed from the front, already among the awakened. He grinned and pointed at the crystal, as if it were nothing.
For him, maybe it had been.
Lio's legs felt stiff as he stepped out of the row. His heart pounded loud enough to drown out the whispers. The aisle stretched in front of him, too long, too bright under the high windows.
He walked anyway.
One step. Another.
He caught Aria's gaze again. She was watching him with something like nervous encouragement now, chewing the inside of her cheek. When he passed her, she gave him a tiny nod.
You can do it.
That was what it felt like she was saying, even though her lips did not move.
Lio reached the altar.
Up close, the Awakening Crystal was bigger than it seemed from the back of the hall. It hovered in midair, edges faceted and sharp, light swirling slowly inside it like captured mist. The air around it felt colder, tingling against his skin.
The priestess looked at him with gentle, distant eyes. "Lio Faren," she said. "Place your hand upon the Crystal, and open your heart to the blessing of the System."
His throat felt dry. "Yes, Lady Priestess."
His hand trembled as he lifted it.
For a moment, he hesitated, fingers hovering a breath away from the glowing surface.
What if…?
What if it shows nothing?
What if it breaks?
What if I get something so useless that—
His fingertips brushed the crystal.
Cold shot up his arm like a needle of ice.
The world dropped away.
For a moment, there was no hall, no crowd, no priestess, no Aria, no parents, no banners. Lio's mind sank into a vast, silent darkness lit only by faint, floating symbols. A voice that was not a voice spoke directly into his thoughts, clear and mechanical.
[User confirmed.][Status network connection: Stable.][Soul pattern: Compatible.][Calculating optimal class assignment…]
Lio's breath hitched.
Everything inside him waited for those next words.
The darkness pulsed.
[Class assigned: …]
The hall rushed back in.
Noise returned all at once: the rustle of clothing, the soft crackle of candles, someone clearing their throat, the distant coo of a baby in the back row. Lio blinked, vision re-focusing on the bright air above the crystal.
Light flared.
Letters formed.
For a heartbeat, Lio thought he must be reading them wrong.
CLASS: CARRIERRANK: F
Silence.
True silence.
Even the baby in the back stopped making noise, as if the entire world held its breath.
Lio stared up at the floating words.
Carrier.
F.
His chest went numb.
There it was. Worst-case scenario, but worse than he had allowed himself to imagine. He had read about the Carrier class.
Basic support classification. Minimal combat capabilities. Low stat growth. Primary function: carry items, equipment, and supplies. The kind of class assigned to logistics personnel, not adventurers.
And F-rank.
Below E, below even the category most people politely called "limited potential."
F was failed potential.