The examinees were gathered back in the main courtyard, the same place where they had started the day. The sun was lower now and the afternoon was starting to cool down. Most of the students had clustered into their natural groups, nobles on one side and commoners on the other, with a clear gap of empty space between them.
Rook stood near the back, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Jace was pacing back and forth in front of him, muttering to himself.
"I failed. I definitely failed. Spark-Forming mana, Iron-Early body, and I spent the entire combat practical dodging instead of fighting. There is no way they take me."
"You survived," Rook said. "That counts."
"Does it? This is an elite academy. They want warriors, not professional cowards."
"A coward who survives is better than a hero who dies."
Jace stopped pacing and looked at him. "That sounds like something my grandfather would say. He was a farmer too."
"He sounds like a smart man."
"He was. He also said never trust a noble, never bet against the weather, and never eat anything you cannot identify." Jace started pacing again. "I should have listened to all three. The nobles here look at us like we are mud on their boots."
"You held your own against that instructor. A full minute without going down is not nothing."
A few of the other commoners nearby were having similar conversations, voices hushed and faces tense. One girl looked like she had been crying. A boy near the front was staring at the platform where the examiners were conferring, his hands clenched at his sides.
"How are you so calm?" Jace asked, finally stopping his pacing. "You are a coreless commoner who just showed up the entire academy in the physical tests. If you do not get in after all that, it would be embarrassing."
Rook thought about Tess, about the medicine bottles that were almost empty. He thought about his mother, who was probably sitting at home right now, waiting for news. Embarrassing was not the word he would use.
"Panicking will not change the outcome."
"That is a very reasonable way to look at it, and I hate it."
Before Rook could respond, the head examiner stepped up to the raised platform. The murmuring in the courtyard died down instantly. She was holding a stack of papers and her expression gave nothing away.
"The results have been tabulated," she announced, her voice carrying clearly over the crowd. "When your name is called, step forward to receive your class assignment. Those assigned to Class A will report to the East Wing. Class B to the West Wing. Class C to the South Tower. And Class D to the North Tower."
She paused. "If your name is not called by the end of the list, you are dismissed from the academy grounds. You may reapply next year."
The crowd went still as she began reading names.
The list moved in alphabetical order. The first few were nobles, assigned to Class A with barely any hesitation. They stepped forward with their heads held high, accepting their badges and moving to stand with their new classmates.
"Aldric Thorn. Class A."
"Bram Vos. Class B."
"Cassia Maren. Class A."
The names kept coming. Rook noticed that the commoners were being clustered at the end of each letter group, and most of them were being assigned to Class C when they were called at all. The academy was not even pretending to be fair about it.
"How many commoners do you think make it in each year?" Jace whispered.
"Probably not many, judging by the numbers so far."
"That does not make me feel any better about my chances."
The list moved into the M section and Jace went rigid, mouthing along as the names were read.
"Mira Crest. Class B."
"Morgan Vale. Class C."
A pause. The examiner turned to the next page.
"Jace Mott."
Jace jumped like he had been stung. He stared at the examiner, then at Rook, his eyes wide. For a second, he did not move at all.
"Go on," Rook said. "They called your name."
Jace stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. He reached the platform and took the badge the examiner held out, his hands shaking slightly.
"Class D," the examiner said.
Jace did not seem to care what class it was. He clutched the badge and scrambled over to the group of admitted students, grinning wide. When he turned back to look at Rook, he gave a thumbs up.
'He made it. That is one less thing to worry about.'
The list continued and the crowd of uncalled students slowly thinned out. Rook could see the desperation on some of their faces as each name passed without being theirs.
The R section started. Rook straightened up slightly, pushing off the wall.
"Renard Voss. Class A."
"Rilla Cade. Class C."
Another pause. The examiner glanced up from her papers, scanning the crowd until her eyes found him.
"Rook."
He walked forward and felt the stares on him again, the whispers starting up immediately, louder than they had been for anyone else.
"That is him."
"The Iron-Peak commoner."
"The coreless one."
"How is he even allowed to be here?"
He ignored them and stopped in front of the platform. The head examiner looked down at him, and for a moment she studied his face before holding out a badge.
"Admitted," she said. "Class D."
Rook took the badge. Simple metal, stamped with the academy seal and the letter D.
"Thank you," he said.
The examiner nodded once, already turning to the next name on her list.
As he walked toward the group of admitted students, he noticed something. The students in Class A and B were looking at him with open hostility. Some of them were the same nobles who had mocked him in the courtyard that morning, and they clearly were not happy that he had made it in. The students in Class C were avoiding his gaze entirely, like they did not want to be associated with him.
And when he reached the Class D group, even some of them looked uncertain.
"We made it," Jace said, falling into step beside him. His voice was lower now, some of the initial excitement fading. "But... Class D? I have never heard of a Class D. The recruiters only ever talked about A, B, and C."
"I have not heard of it either. Maybe it is new."
"It is the reject class," a voice said.
They turned to see an older student standing nearby. He was wearing a second-year uniform, the badge on his chest marking him as Class B, and he was watching them with undisguised amusement.
"Excuse me?" Jace asked.
"You really do not know?" The older student laughed, shaking his head. "Class A is for the elites. The ones with noble bloodlines, high-grade cores, and family connections. Class B is for the talented, the ones who might actually become something. Class C is for the average, the ones who will probably wash out before graduation but are worth keeping around as fodder."
He gestured to their little group.
"Class D is for the strays. The ones with 'potential' but 'fatal flaws.'" He made air quotes with his fingers. "Troublemakers, outcasts, and people nobody else wants to deal with. Half-breeds, disgraced nobles, commoners who got in on luck or a technicality." His eyes settled on Rook. "And whatever you are."
Jace looked at his badge, his excitement dimming. "Great. So we are the garbage disposal."
"Think of it more like... a holding pen," the older student said. "Somewhere to put the problems until they solve themselves. Most Class D students either drop out, get expelled, or die on training missions before the first year ends."
"Die?" Jace's voice cracked.
"It happens." The older student shrugged. "Class D gets the dangerous assignments. The ones nobody else wants. Officially, it is to 'build character.' Unofficially, it is to thin the herd." He clapped Jace on the shoulder. "Good luck in there. You are going to need it."
He walked away, still laughing.
Jace was quiet for a long moment. "I am starting to think I should have stayed on the farm."
"We are in," Rook said. "That is all that matters."
"Is it? Did you hear what he said? Dangerous assignments? Thinning the herd?"
"He is a second-year trying to scare the new students. Do not let him get in your head."
"Easy for you to say. You have the physical abilities of a veteran knight." Jace looked at his badge again. "I have the survival instincts of a startled rabbit."
"Rabbits survive. That is all that matters in the end."
"By running away though! That is not exactly a noble strategy."
"Then run fast and do not look back. Survival is survival."
Jace stared at him for a second, then let out a laugh. "I cannot tell if you are being serious or not."
"I am always serious."
"That is somehow worse."
The assembly ended shortly after, with the examiners giving final instructions about dormitory assignments and class schedules. The courtyard began to empty as students headed toward their respective towers. Rook noticed that the Class D group was the smallest by far, maybe a dozen students in total. They walked together in an awkward cluster, none of them talking to each other.
Rook waited until the crowds had thinned before heading toward the gate. He needed a moment to think, to process what had just happened.
He had done it, he was a student at Greymount Academy. Class D or not, he was in, and that meant he could earn money, send it home, and buy the medicine Tess needed. Everything else was secondary.
"Congratulations."
He turned to see the professor standing near the gate. Cault was wearing the same simple robes as before, his single hand tucked into a pocket. He looked relaxed, more casual than he had at the arena.
"Thank you," Rook said. "For vouching for me. I would not have gotten another chance without you."
"Do not thank me yet. The hard part starts now." Cault glanced at the badge in Rook's hand. "Class D. Interesting placement."
"You know something about it?"
"I should." Cault smiled. "I teach it."
Rook was not sure if that was reassuring or concerning. "The second-year made it sound like Class D students do not last long."
"He is not entirely wrong." Cault said. "Class D has the highest attrition rate in the academy. The training is harder, the missions are more dangerous, and the other students will not make your life easy. Most people who end up here either wash out or they do not make it at all."
Rook understood what he meant. "But the ones who do survive?"
"They come out stronger than anyone else in the academy. Class D produces the best knights, the best mages, the best hunters. We just lose a lot of people along the way."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Cault was quiet for a moment. "Because you deserve to know what you are walking into. You have no mana core, Rook. Every other student here can use mana to enhance their bodies, cast spells, and do things you physically cannot do. You are at a disadvantage that you cannot train your way out of."
"I know what I am up against. I have thought about it plenty."
"Do you? Really?" Cault stepped closer. "The other students will see you as an easy target. The instructors will push you harder than anyone else to see if you break. And if you fall behind, there is no safety net. The academy does not coddle Class D students."
Rook met his gaze. "I have survived worse."
Cault studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe you have." He turned and walked away, disappearing through the gate and leaving Rook alone in the empty courtyard.
Rook looked down at the badge in his hand.
'This is what I signed up for.'