2316, Earth.

The holographic image of a Rank-F Razorcat shrieked and lunged. Adrian moved with calm, focused efficiency, his training staff a blur as he parried and struck. The simulation dissolved in a flicker of harmless light, neutralized with a technique that was, as always, utterly flawless.

His mind immediately discarded the fight analysis. A necessary drill, yes, but his focus was always on the horizon, on the real threats beyond the towering city walls.

He saw not the low-ranked trash this facility catered to, but the A-Rank behemoths his parents faced on the blood-soaked fringes of the Wastelands. That was the level of strength he was determined to achieve, and nothing less.

From the observation deck, the instructor’s voice boomed, amplified through the room’s speakers. “Flawless technique, Adrian! As expected from the son of the defenders. Let’s hope your awakened affinity is just as strong.”

Adrian gave a respectful, confident nod. The praise was rote; he knew technique was only half the battle. The true engine of power lay dormant within, waiting for the Affinity Crystal to reveal its nature.

Later, in the cramped, sterile environment of the locker room, the air was thick with the nervous energy of impending destiny. Leo, Adrian’s oldest friend, slumped onto a scarred aluminum bench, burying his face in his hands.

“I can’t stop thinking about the ceremony,” Leo groaned, the sound muffled and thick with dread. “I’ve been reading the forums, the deep ones, not the surface-level trash. Most of the high-rank skill books the Celestial Eleven send back from the universe are for rare, energy-type affinities.”

Leo gestured around the crowded space, his voice rising in pitch.

“We’ll all get into the Academy, sure, but what then? If I get a common Stone Affinity, the absolute bedrock, the boilerplate ability, I’ll be immediately placed in the Aegis Division for basic frontline training. I’ll be cannon fodder.”

“I’ll spend years mastering low-rank skills just to maybe fight an E-Rank monster one day.” His voice cracked, the sound of his palpable frustration.

Adrian moved beside him, settling the weight of a firm, reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“An affinity is just the starting gun, Leo, not the race itself,” he said, his voice steady and low.

“The Celestial Eleven gave us the skill books as a path, not a destination. It’s the sheer, unyielding will to master those skills that forges a Defender.”

He paused, letting his gaze meet Leo’s anxious eyes. “That’s what the Academy is truly for, to give us the real experience books can’t teach. If you hit a ceiling, if there is no skill book for the next stage of your power, you don’t stop. You study your affinity, you push your mana channels, and you create a new skill yourself.

That’s how legends are made.”

Leo sighed, the sound deflating all the confidence Adrian had tried to inject. “Easy for you to say, Adrian. Your parents are living A-Rank legends, there is no way for you to awaken to a useless affinity, and from what I have seen, your innate talent is higher than average.”

Adrian pressed his lips into a thin line. He could not deny the truth.

To create a personal skill, one must study and comprehend their affinity at a fundamental level, deepening their connection to its core concepts.

Not everyone possessed the innate talent or, crucially, the decade of uninterrupted free time required to achieve such a feat, regardless of their financial resources.

Most used the skill books. These books contained the codified secrets to wielding mana, turning raw, chaotic affinity into devastating, precise power. The knowledge within could accelerate understanding by years, sometimes decades.

Each skill had its own Rank, from F to S, and to learn one from a skill book, an Awakened must possess the corresponding core affinity.

In the modern world, a person’s worth, their very place in the restructured society, was measured into a single, defining letter.

From the common F-Rank foot soldier, whose job was often to hold the line until their betters arrived, to the legendary, nation-defending S-Ranks, that designation carved your place in the societal hierarchy.

This rank depended entirely on what maximum level of skill the user could wield without their body collapsing from the strain. A D-Rank Defender attempting a B-Rank skill would find their mana channels instantly shredded like wet paper.

Mastering a skill of a higher grade than one’s current personal Rank was the fastest and most perilous way to advance.

The monsters that plagued the Wastelands carried their own corresponding rankings, a constantly evolving threat that forces humanity to grow stronger or perish.

Each beast, from the low-grade Razorcat to the monstrous A-Rank behemoths, represented a living benchmark of power that dictated the necessary strength of the Defenders who hunted them.

“My cousin awakened last year,” Leo continued, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Fire affinity, which sounds impressive, right? But he could only comprehend a basic F-Rank skill book. Now he’s stuck throwing firebolts that barely singe a Razorcat’s fur.”

Adrian corrected him, attempting to pull Leo back to the principles of discipline.

“It’s very early, Leo. The Academy is there to teach them, even if one could not comprehend with just the raw theory from a skill book, the combat experience the academy gives them will transform them, increase their affinity understanding by experiencing real battles. It just takes time.”

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A book, Adrian knew, could provide the cold, hard blueprints, but only a teacher with the same affinity could demonstrate its application in live combat. Only sparring with a rival could forge genuine experience through pain and triumph.

“That’s why the dream of every child isn’t just to awaken,” Adrian said, pushing the narrative of self-determination, “but to join the academy and experience the affinity for themselves. That is the true equaliser.”

Leo’s shoulders sagged again. “Easy to say.”

Adrian felt the familiar weight settle on his chest, the heavy, constant burden of being the son of two celebrated A-Rank Defenders.

His parents had achieved their rank through decades of mastering countless high-ranking skills, not in simulators, but on blood-soaked battlefields where every lesson was paid for in life.

Everyone, from his instructors to the onlookers on the high balcony, expected him to follow that crimson path, and quickly.

The pressure had shaped him like a blade on an anvil. From childhood, he possessed a quiet, almost intimidating confidence and an innate belief in his own potential. His will, forged by expectation, had always been unshakable.

“Tomorrow’s the ceremony,” Leo muttered, staring at his hands as if reading the future in his palms. “Sixteen years old, and everything changes. Tomorrow, we will stop being kids.”

The awakening ceremony occurred annually in every district, a ritual that separated children from their futures, a single moment that decreed whether they would live lives of relative comfort behind the city walls or on the harsh, lethal frontlines.

Adrian had watched older students return transformed, their eyes holding new depths of power or the crushing disappointment of a limited future.

The next day arrived with the kind of morning that carved itself into memory. Adrian’s pulse remained steady as he and Leo joined the stream of sixteen-year-olds flowing toward the ceremony hall.

The massive structure loomed before them, its walls embedded with veins of luminescent metal that pulsed like captured starlight. The architecture defied conventional geometry, spiraling upward in impossible curves that seemed to bend space itself.

Inside, the air thrummed with anticipation so thick it felt viscous against Adrian’s skin. Hundreds of teenagers clustered in neat rows, their nervous energy creating an electric undercurrent that made his teeth ache.

Above them, the balcony reserved for high-ranking Defenders gleamed like a constellation of power. Adrian’s gaze found his parents immediately. Their twin A-Rank insignias, a badge of devastating power and authority, caught the hall’s ethereal light, throwing prismatic reflections across the walls below.

His mother’s posture radiated the controlled violence of a sheathed blade. His father stood with the immutable presence of a mountain that had weathered countless storms. Both watched him with expressions carved from high expectation and profound pride.

The weight of their legacy pressed against his shoulders like gravity from a distant star. Every eye in that balcony had turned toward him, measuring, evaluating, waiting to see if their celebrated bloodline would manifest in a powerful awakening.

At the hall’s center, the Affinity Crystal dominated the space. It was a monolithic structure that seemed to devour light rather than reflect it. Its surface rippled with patterns that hurt to perceive directly, as if reality itself bent around its presence.

The proctor, a stern woman whose C-Rank insignia marked her as formidable but ultimately limited, began calling names.

“Sarah Chen.”

The first name echoed through the hall. Sarah’s legs trembled as she approached the crystal, her footsteps creating tiny percussion beats against the polished floor.

The Affinity Crystal waited, its surface a void that seemed to breathe with malevolent patience. Sarah’s palm made contact, and the crystal’s interior erupted into cascading ribbons of pure emerald light.

The screen materialized above the crystal, its display cutting through the hall’s tension like a blade. “Healing Affinity, Rank A Potential.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd like wind through wheat. Healing affinities were true treasures, their wielders destined for the medical corps where they would mend shattered bodies and broken spirits, enjoying wealth and status.

Sarah stumbled back, tears streaming down her face as relief and joy warred for dominance. Her parents in the observation deck clutched each other, their faces radiant with pride.

“Marcus Wong.”

A stocky boy with calloused hands stepped forward. The crystal pulsed with amber fire, its light painting shadows that danced across the walls like living things.

“Earth Affinity, Rank B Potential.” Marcus grinned, his relief palpable. Earth wielders formed the backbone of defensive formations, their skills essential for protecting cities from monster incursions, a reliable, if unglamorous, career path.

The ceremony continued its relentless march, a factory of fate. Adrian watched each awakening, cataloguing the patterns of light and energy that emerged from the crystal’s depths.

“Elena Vasquez.” Lightning crackled within the crystal, electric blue serpents that coiled and struck at invisible prey. “Lightning Affinity, Rank B Potential.”

“David Kim.” Shadows pooled like spilled ink, their darkness so complete it seemed to devour the surrounding light. “Shadow Affinity, Rank B Potential.”

Leo’s name rang out, and Adrian felt his friend’s nervous energy spike like a fever. Leo approached the crystal, his breathing controlled despite the sweat beading on his forehead.

The crystal responded with swirling currents of silver and blue, its light flowing like mercury through glass. “Water Affinity, Rank A Potential.”

An A Rank Potential!

The Potential meant that the known skills and knowledge humanity possessed could enable Leo to master skills sufficient to become an A-Rank Defender, placing him in the elite echelon of society alongside Adrian’s parents.

If the potential was low, then it did not truly mean their path would be struck at that low level, it’s just humanity did not possess any higher skill book after that.

So a low rank potential user had to train their affinity and increase comprehension on their own, and create their own higher version of skill.

Leo’s face exploded into a grin that could have powered the hall’s lighting. He caught Adrian’s eye and pumped his fist, a silent, grateful explosion of his earlier fears.

Leo was satisfied he could get guidance till A-Rank!

The minutes crawled by. Each name brought Adrian closer to his moment of truth, the instant when his potential would be laid bare before the assembled crowd and his parents.

“Adrian Blackwood.”

The hall’s atmosphere shifted instantly. Conversations died as if a power surge had severed their vocal cords. Every gaze converged on him like searchlights, their collective weight pressing against his shoulders. The air was no longer merely expectant, it was demanding.

Adrian rose from his seat with a slow, fluid grace, his movements betraying none of the anticipation that coursed through his veins.

His parents leaned forward in their balcony seats, their expressions carved from stone and expectation, offering no comfort, only silent pressure.

The crystal loomed before him, its monolithic surface reflecting distorted, rippling images of his approach. He could feel the accumulated hopes and fears of everyone present, their emotions creating a psychic pressure that threatened to buckle his knees, yet his innate will held firm.

His palm met the crystal’s surface. The world exploded into a silent wave of sensation. The crystal’s touch was neither warm nor cold but something beyond temperature, a contact that seemed to reach through his skin and grasp his very essence.

The proctor’s hand moved to the activation panel, her fingers hovering over the controls that would determine his future. “Beginning affinity scan.”

The crystal’s interior ignited with power that defied description, its light not merely visible but felt, tasted, experienced with senses he hadn’t known he possessed.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep