“Nothing is broken, thank the gods,” the healer muttered, wrapping a quick compression bandage around the joint.
“But you need to rest, girl. That was very reckless.”
Her mother sprinted into the cleared space, her face completely pale as she pulled Lyra into a fiercely tight embrace.
“You fool! You scared me half to death! What were you thinking?!”
Lyra forced a weak, trembling smile, leaning against her mother’s shoulder.
“I’m… I’m okay, Mom. The little girl is safe.”
Across the plaza, the child she had saved was sobbing into her father’s chest, pointing back toward Lyra with a small, trembling hand.
The father caught Lyra’s gaze and gave a deep grateful bow.
Lyra tried to smile back, but as she watched the elite beast masters effortlessly lead the bound monster away, her right hand slowly curled into a tight, frustrated fist.
If that had been a slightly stronger beast—a Tier 3 or Tier 4 monster—she wouldn’t have just been bruised.
She would have been dead.
She had been completely, utterly powerless, relying entirely on the hope that someone stronger would arrive in time to fix it.
For the very first time in her sixteen years of life, a quiet, stubborn spark ignited deep within her soul.
She didn’t want strength to show off on the holographic screens.
She didn’t want it for wealth.
She wanted it so that she would never, ever have to lie helpless on the dirt again while another decided her fate, strong enough to protect her loved ones.
*Dong…
Dong…
Dong…*
The colossal ceremonial bells atop the palace began to toll, their deep resonance vibrating through the entire city.
The Awakening Ceremony was beginning.
The interior of the Grand Awakening Hall was breathtaking.
Tens of thousands of students stood in perfectly aligned rows, the heavy silence broken only by the nervous shuffling of boots.
At the center of the elevated stage sat the Awakening Crystal—a flawless, five-meter-tall diamond structure that hummed with a faint, iridescent light.
An elder dressed in flowing silver robes stepped onto the platform, the runes along his sleeves glowing as he raised his hands.
“Welcome, the new generation of Aetheria,” his voice echoed effortlessly, carrying a strange, hypnotic gravity.
“Today, You’ll touch the crystal to pull the fragment of the Beast Gods from your souls. For some, today is the dawn of an empire. For others, it is the continuation of an ordinary life. But remember… a beast soul only dictates where your journey ‘begins’, not where it ends.”
The process was fast, brutal, and efficient.
One by one, names were called.
The crystal flashed with blinding colors, projecting the phantoms of awakened beasts into the rafters.
A Crimson Falcon spread its wings over a boy, earning thunderous applause.
An Ice Wolf let out a silent howl over a girl from a noble house.
The crowd roared with every high-tier manifestation.
Then, the announcer’s voice shifted, dropping into a tone of practiced reverence.
“Next. Kael Draven.”
The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
A ripple of intense whispers washed through the rows of students.
“The young master of House Draven…”
“I heard his spiritual pressure was already leaking through his skin months ago.”
“Look at him. He doesn’t even look human.”
Kael Draven stepped out of the front row.
He was tall, easily clearing six feet, with sharp, silver-black hair and eyes like shards of glacier ice.
He walked with a terrifyingly disciplined grace, completely expressionless.
To him, this wasn’t a life-altering judgment; it was a tedious formality.
He reached the stage, ignored the bowing examiners, and casually rested his palm against the cold facet of the crystal.
The world went white.
A roar so cataclysmic, so heavy with aged predatory dominance shook the marble palace that several weaker students fell straight to their knees.
The sky above the glass ceiling cracked with artificial thunder as an immense, silver-scaled dragon materialized, its wingspan wide enough to shadow the entire arena.
The sheer spiritual pressure suffocated the room.
Countless rare and elite beast souls that had just been summoned instinctively retracted back into their masters’ bodies, trembling.
“The Heavenly Dragon Emperor!” one of the head examiners shouted, his voice cracking with pure awe as he bolted from his chair.
“Celestial Grade! A supreme soul!”
The hall exploded into a deafening frenzy of cheers and frantic whispers.
Elite academy scouts were already scribbling furiously on their tablets.
Kael, however, simply pulled his hand back, gave a cold, single nod to the panel, and walked off the stage.
His expression hadn’t changed by a single millimeter.
He expected nothing less than absolute perfection.
The hours dragged on, the initial high of Kael’s awakening slowly settling into a steady rhythm of common and rare tiers.
Finally, as the afternoon light began to wane, the announcer glanced down at his glowing tablet.
“Lyra Vale.”
Lyra took a slow, deep breath, her boots feeling incredibly heavy as she stepped out of her row.
She ignored the lingering stares from the girls on the bus.
She walked past the spots where the stone was still scorched from Kael’s dragon.
‘Observe.
Adapt.
Don’t look back,’ she chanted internally, reaching the elevated platform.
She placed her palms against the smooth, cool surface of the giant crystal.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the surge of fire or ice that the others had described.
Nothing happened.
One second.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
The crystal remained completely dark, its iridescent hum flatlining into a dull silence.
The crowd began to murmur, the quiet rustle of shifting bodies growing louder.
“Is she a dud?”
“Did the crystal weaken?”
“No energy reaction at all…”
The examiner frowned, stepping closer to inspect the base runes.
“Keep your hands on the stone, girl. Do not break connection.”
Lyra’s fingers tightened against the marble.
A cold sweat broke out along her neck.
‘Please,’ she thought, a spark of stubborn defiance flaring in her chest.
‘Give me something.
Anything.
I refuse to stay weak.’
The crystal suddenly gave a violent, erratic flicker.
It didn’t flash gold or crimson.
It emitted a tiny, single spark of dull purple light that drifted lazily into the air before vanishing.
Then, a tiny, weightless sensation landed gently on the back of her right hand.
Lyra slowly opened her eyes and lowered her gaze.