Moments Before the Rite (3)

After his impressive display of talent, Mr. Gonzales flicked his finger, and the water vapor needles dissipated into thin air.

He straightened his posture and continued, "Before we move on to the third major topic, I almost forgot to explain [World Commands]. Some of you may already know the basics, but let me clarify for everyone.

"World commands are ancient keywords mystic users utter to activate their marks, halos, talents, and soul artifacts. These commands serve as a bridge to channel your connection with your element and abilities. However, as you progress through the realms, the reliance on world commands diminishes.

"For instance, by the time you reach the 3rd Halo, you no longer need to vocalize your talents, you can activate them with just a thought. At the 5th Halo, even the command [Ancestria], which activates your mark and halo, becomes unnecessary."

"Similarly, the command [Arcanel], used to summon your soul artifact, will no longer be required. But since I'm currently a 3rd Halo Mystic, I still follow this one rule."

He paused and scanned the room, "Before we proceed, are there any questions?"

A hand shot up from the crowd. "Sir," a student asked hesitantly, "regarding talents, are they similar to the gifts of the Hwanins in Korea?"

Mr. Gonzales smiled, clearly pleased with the question.

"That's an excellent question," he said.

"Yes, there are similarities. However, the key difference lies in their acquisition. Our talents are deeply rooted in our souls. This is why mystic users can only awaken at the age of 12, when the soul has matured enough to withstand the rites and ceremonies performed by the Spirit Elders. Because of this, talents cannot be taught, inherited, or transferred to another person.

"On the other hand, the gifts of the Hwanins are learned through practice and passed down within their bloodlines. Even children can begin honing them early on. That's what sets our talents apart—they are intrinsic to us, a part of our very essence..."

"..."

Satisfied with answering all the questions, Mr. Gonzales returned to the topic at hand.

"Now, let's discuss the [Ancestral Artifact Invocation]. This is the last significant part of awakening, where you summon the artifact that will accompany you for the rest of your life.

"For most people, the artifact they summon is a weapon, which is fairly common and practical. However," he said, his tone lowering for dramatic effect.

"... There are cases where individuals summon artifacts that are seemingly useless for combat—ordinary objects like a pen or, even worse, a toothpick. Back in my days, there was someone who awakened an advanced element but summoned a completely useless water bottle artifact."

"The invocation is utterly random. Even until this day and age, no one truly understands the criteria for summoning a specific artifact, which is why most veterans chalk it up to luck."

The students chuckled nervously, some exchanging uncertain glances.

Mr. Gonzales smirked, "In my case, I was fortunate enough to summon an artifact that complements my element. Let me show you."

He raised his hand and uttered, [Arcanel].

The air shimmered as drops of water materialized and converged like a gentle wave, gradually forming into a crystallized staff.

Its head was adorned with a gleaming water orb that pulsed softly with light.

The class gasped in awe, their amazement evident.

Ariase, too, couldn't help but feel impressed, marveling at how the artifact resembled something straight out of an RPG brought to life.

'Now that I think about it,' he mused, 'I've never seen Uncle use his artifact, even once...'

Mr. Gonzales spoke again, lifting the staff slightly for everyone to see.

"This is my artifact, the Beacon of Aqua, a Tier 4 Artifact. It possesses a buff effect that enhances my control over my element and accelerates the activation of my talents."

He let the staff hover gracefully in the air before lowering it, his tone growing serious.

"Remember, your artifact is an extension of your soul. It cannot be traded, stolen, or used by anyone else. Selling your artifact is not only impossible but also reckless, something some of your seniors learned the hard way. Avoid even entertaining such ideas for goodness' sake."

"Also, your artifact evolves as your soul evolves. As you progress and grow stronger, your artifact will benefit from this growth and may increase its tier, potentially unlocking new abilities or enhancing its existing features..."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the class.

The reassurance that their artifacts could grow alongside them alleviated much of their anxiety.

Excitement flickered in their eyes as they looked forward to their own awakening.

...

Three hours later, Ariase found himself feeling utterly cheated.

His teacher had promised a "short" discussion, but the lecture dragged on for two exhausting hours.

While his body was young, his mind carried the weight of age, making it difficult to endure the repetition of material he had already learned weeks ago.

He fought off drowsiness, saved only by Kevin's endless chatter, which served as an unwelcome but effective alarm.

When they were finally dismissed, it was nearly 11 o'clock.

Ariase, Kevin, and Alex made their way toward the canteen, joining the throngs of grade 7 students who had been released earlier and were now idly waiting for the event later.

As they walked, Ariase noticed curious glances from other students, both boys and girls, directed at him.

Their expressions carried admiration at his appearance rather than malice, but it wasn't universal.

Among those from his own class, the atmosphere was starkly different.

Some actively avoided him, their attitudes having shifted after learning certain truths about him.

Though it stung to see them act so distant, especially after all he'd done for them in his past life.

It was rather inevitable as he quickly reminded himself that keeping toxic friends was worse than having outright enemies.

As long as they didn't interfere with his path or plans, he would treat them with detached fairness and move on.

There was no point in rekindling bonds with those who had already proven unworthy of his time.

Just as they were heading downstairs, something flew toward their backs, a water bottle.

Ariase's senses reacted instinctively, catching it effortlessly mid-air.

He turned to see Eric and Miles, their grins fading as shock replaced their smug expressions.

Kevin and Alex stared in disbelief, their mouths slightly agape, as they tried to process what Ariase had just done.

Miles, ever the arrogant instigator, sneered, "Sissy, help me throw that bottle again, will ya?"

Ariase's lips curled into a mocking smirk. 'Those two rascals... Even in this world, their ego and self-belief are so high that not even a mountain could stand taller than their arrogance.'

They might have teased and subtly bullied him in the past, but this time was different.

Such petty provocations were as futile as their inflated egos.

With calculated calm, he responded, "Hey, fatso. You've got such plump arms. Why not throw it yourself?"

Channeling strength into his right arm, he hurled the bottle back with startling force.

Eric and Miles, trying to mimic Ariase's earlier reflexes, attempted to catch it, but failed miserably.

The bottle smacked Miles square in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

A chorus of gasps and laughter rippled through the hallway as spectators bore witness to the scene.

Ariase's expression darkened as he turned to them, voice sharp with warning.

"Do that again, and I won't show you any mercy. So, grow up, will you? You're already in seventh grade, for crying out loud."

Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and headed downstairs with Kevin and Alex in tow.

Both of his friends stared at him with wide eyes and sparkles of admiration.

"Ria, how'd you do that?" Kevin asked, his excitement bubbling over.

"Yeah, that was amazing!" Alex chimed in.

Ariase brushed off their praise with a shrug, the trio leaving behind a corridor filled with murmurs and questions.

No one had expected the white-haired student to be so formidable.

...

Unbeknownst to Ariase, his actions hadn't gone unnoticed.

On the fourth floor, a senior with fiery red hair leaned against the railing, watching the scene with a grin and a low whistle.

"Well, that's new," he muttered, "Didn't think someone from the lower years could be so interesting. A white-haired girl, huh? Guess I'll remember you."

The distance obscured Ariase's true identity, leading the senior to assume he was a girl.

He frowned thoughtfully, his curiosity piqued.

"But how's that possible? Only awakened individuals of the 1st Halo below the 2-Star Encirclement should have that kind of strength."

He straightened, his grin widening, "Did the leader foresee this? Is that why she sent me here? As expected of the Divination element."

With keen interest, he continued to observe Ariase and his friends as they made their way to the canteen, studying them as though they were intriguing pieces in a game yet to unfold.