Aiden remained beside his family in silence as the people of Ashbrook gathered before the Temple of Awakening. Even the hunters, who usually spent their days deep in the forest, had returned to witness the ceremony. The merchants had closed their stalls, children climbed onto low stone walls for a better view, and the village elders watched the soon-to-be Awakened with a mixture of nostalgia and concern.
The temple seemed even more imposing than it had the day before. Its white stone walls reflected the morning light, giving the building an almost otherworldly appearance. Above the open doors, the engraved symbol glowed faintly. Thanks to the memories of this body, Aiden knew it represented the Balance of Classes. Two perfectly balanced scales, a flame at the center, and twelve stars surrounding them.
Twelve stars. Under normal circumstances, it would have seemed like an insignificant detail. But ever since his dream and that strange talk of candidates, Aiden found it difficult to dismiss anything as mere coincidence.
Around him, the other young people chatted excitedly. There were twenty-three of them taking part in the ceremony that year. Some had known each other since childhood. Others had come from outlying farms attached to the village. They were all eighteen years old, and they all knew their lives would change before noon.
Lily grabbed Aiden's sleeve, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"You're going to be amazing. I'm sure of it. Maybe you'll even get a rare Class."
Aiden smiled at her.
"Don't get your hopes up too much."
"Too late."
Clara gently placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder to calm her down, but her eyes never left Aiden. She was smiling, yet he could see the worry behind it. In this world, a Class could open every door or close almost all of them. A son blessed with a good Class could join the Adventurers' Guild, enter the service of a noble, or even leave the village for one of the great cities. A son given a poor Class would most likely spend the rest of his life here, relying on his family's work.
Edgar, on the other hand, seemed far more relaxed. He folded his arms across his chest and watched the crowd as though he were attending nothing more than a village fair.
"Keep your head held high, no matter what happens," he said at last.
Aiden nodded. He wanted to reply with something reassuring, but the words caught in his throat.
The system's voice hadn't returned since dawn. No messages. No windows. No explanations. Somehow, that unsettled him even more than if it had been speaking nonstop.
A ripple swept through the crowd. The young men and women were invited to step forward toward the temple entrance. Aiden followed the others, leaving his family behind. Lily gave him an enthusiastic wave, while Clara clasped her hands together as though she were already praying.
Inside, the air was cooler. The temple wasn't nearly as ornate as Aiden had imagined. There were no golden statues or extravagant frescoes. The great hall was circular, built entirely of stone, with benches lining the walls. At its center stood a pedestal, upon which rested a transparent crystal the size of a human head.
The Awakening Crystal. At first glance, it appeared empty, but when Aiden looked at it more closely, he noticed faint lights drifting within it, like living strands of energy.
The elderly priest who had welcomed them took his place beside the pedestal. His white robe fell to the floor, and a silver pendant rested against his chest. Despite his age, his voice carried effortlessly throughout the hall.
"Today, you step into adulthood. The System will recognize your potential and reveal the Class that lies dormant within you. Some of you will walk the path of battle. Others will follow the paths of craftsmanship, magic, faith, or service. Never look down upon your Class, for even the humblest one can feed a family, protect a home, or serve the kingdom."
Aiden listened carefully. The priest had said the System, not the gods. The distinction struck him immediately.
In Aiden's memories, the villagers often spoke of the gods whenever they mentioned Classes, but the priests sometimes used a different term instead: the System. No one seemed to find it strange. To them, it was probably just another way of referring to the same thing.
For him, it was different. He had heard that voice. He had seen it display messages. He couldn't believe it was merely part of a religion. The priest unrolled a scroll.
"When your name is called, step forward, place your hand on the crystal, and wait. Do not fear the light. Do not attempt to remove your hand before the process is complete. Your Class will appear above the crystal and will be recorded in the temple's register."
A murmur spread through the gathered youths. Marcus stood a few steps ahead of Aiden. His shoulders were squared, his chin held high, and a confident smile rested on his face. Looking at him, anyone would have thought he already knew the outcome.
The priest called the first name.
"Nolan, son of Bram."
A blond-haired boy stepped forward stiffly. He placed his hand on the crystal. For a second, nothing happened. Then a green light filled the crystal.
Glowing words appeared above the pedestal.
Archer. Rank D.
Applause immediately broke out.
Nolan let out such a huge sigh of relief that several of the other youths laughed. A Rank D wasn't exceptional, but Archer was still considered a solid Class for a village bordering a vast forest.
The priest recorded the result.
"Next. Elian, son of Marta."
A shorter boy stepped forward. This time, the crystal glowed red.
Blacksmith. Rank E.
More restrained applause echoed through the hall. Elian looked disappointed, but his father, seated in the front row, was nearly in tears with pride. In a village like Ashbrook, a blacksmith would never be short of work.
The names kept coming.
"Sera, daughter of Colin."
A blue light filled the crystal.
Mage. Rank D.
This time, the entire hall reacted with admiration. Sera covered her mouth with one hand, unable to speak, while several villagers were already whispering that she might be sent to an academy in one of the great cities.
Aiden felt the tension mounting. With each new result, the weight on his chest grew heavier. He finally understood why this ceremony mattered so much. It wasn't just a ritual. It was a public judgment. A declaration before the entire village. This is what you're worth. This is what your future is worth.
The priest called several more names. A Farmer, Rank E. A Seamstress, Rank E. A Lancer, Rank D. A Healer, Rank D, whose family burst into tears of joy. A Breeder, Rank F, who stepped away from the pedestal with a pale face despite the polite applause.
Then Marcus's name echoed through the hall.
"Marcus, son of Daren."
Marcus stepped forward with a confident smile. He didn't even glance at the other youths. He placed his hand on the crystal as though he were claiming a reward that had been promised to him since birth.
The light appeared. It was golden. Brighter than any that had come before. Astonished murmurs rippled through the hall. The crystal trembled ever so slightly.
The glowing words formed slowly, as though the temple itself wanted to prolong the moment.
Swordsman. Rank C.
For a second, no one spoke. Then the applause erupted. Daren, Marcus's father, shot to his feet with a triumphant laugh. Several villagers were already shouting their congratulations. A Rank C. In a small village like Ashbrook, it was nothing short of a miracle.
Marcus withdrew his hand from the crystal and turned toward the other youths. His eyes met Aiden's. He smiled. It wasn't a smile of joy. It was the smile of someone who had won. Aiden looked away without a word.
Deep inside, a growing sense of unease began to take hold. He didn't know why he had been reincarnated. He didn't know why that voice kept speaking to him. He didn't even know whether the System wanted to help him or use him.
The priest picked up the scroll once more. He called two more names. Then a third. Every step brought Aiden closer to the crystal. His palms grew damp. The hall seemed smaller than before. At last, the priest lowered his eyes to the register and spoke his name.
"Aiden, son of Edgar."
Every eye turned toward him.