Seventy Five

Rudy falling to the ground, failing her awakening, was just the beginning of a snowball effect as other students followed suit. Some collapsed from sheer exhaustion, while others convulsed violently. A particular student spat out blood as he crumpled, his body beginning to shrivel right before the eyes of everyone. There was no helping it; the student had all but gone on to meet his maker. The crowd gasped in horror, their previously excited murmurs turning into uneasy whispers.

Essence made up the very fabric of the world. The planet thrived on it, and every law in existence was powered by it. For people to willingly break the natural barriers that separated them from wielding essence was to challenge the very order of nature itself. And nature did not take kindly to those unworthy of its gifts. Awakening was never guaranteed—it was a test, a gamble with one's own life. Yet, what is life without risk?

When essence is stored within the inner cores of living beings, it can be converted into body essence—the energy used by warriors, brawlers, spearmen, swordsmen, and other combatants. These fighters channel body essence through their weapons to fight, enhancing their abilities far beyond mortal limits. On the other hand, mages refine essence into different forms of mana, bending the elements to their will.

Once essence or mana can be channeled through the body, a rebirth occurs. Strength, speed, resilience—every physical attribute is elevated to levels at least ten times that of an unawakened mortal. This was the path to power, but it came with a cost.

Essence, like fire, was a good servant but a terrible master.

—

"Ah, finally, another success," Zara spoke with relief as the sigil above a female student with long black hair took on a bronze glow, signaling her awakening. The oppressive mood in the hall lifted slightly, a ripple of applause breaking out among the crowd.

"Yes! My daughter did it! C-Grade, just like her old man!" A man named Vahn beamed with pride, his broad chest puffing as he watched his daughter open her eyes.

On the screens above, her expression was a mix of exhaustion and joy. She had survived. She had succeeded. The weight that had pressed against her shoulders throughout the awakening had lifted, and relief was evident in her trembling smile.

"Congratulations, brother. After this, let's have our families take some time off to celebrate," Varek said cheerfully, clapping his friend on the back.

C-Grade, while not rare, was solid enough to ensure a stable path forward. Someone with such talent could at least reach mid-rank four in their lifetime. If they were exceptionally diligent, they could even break into initial rank five—a level powerful enough to govern a region.

"Congratulations, sweetie! But remember, the cultivation journey is long and arduous. Your awakening is merely the first step. Work hard, gather merits, and the prestigious academy will back you to greatness," Zara proclaimed heroically.

A few cheers followed, but it was evident that the enthusiasm had waned. Compared to the earlier awakening, this one lacked spectacle. People craved greatness.

"Phew, that was close. I almost forgot to begin swimming upwards," the newly awakened girl muttered under her breath, still marveling at her newfound strength. Clenching her fists, she felt the raw power coursing through her body—like fire in her veins, waiting to be unleashed.

Stepping down from the stage, she entered the designated rest area for the awakened. She basked in the gazes directed her way, but unbeknownst to her, not all were admiring.

"If only she knew that she's nothing special," Mellissa scoffed, her arms crossed as she looked on with disdain. "That prideful smile would be wiped right off her face."

—-

"And that should wrap things up for the first batch," Zara announced as the stage was cleared. A stat board rose from the ground, displaying numbers that sent a shudder through the room.

First Batch Results:

Successes: 2Failures: 2Deaths: 6

The atmosphere grew heavy as students stared at the chilling statistics. Six deaths in just the first batch. This was the cost of failure.

Murmurs of doubt spread through the crowd like wildfire.

"I know what you're thinking," Zara spoke, her gaze sweeping over the students. "You're having second thoughts. And you should. A wise person always knows their limits. That's why I will say this now—"

She paused, letting the tension build.

"You can drop out at any stage. At least you'll still have your life."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. A few students swallowed audibly, some already trembling.

"Self-will and conviction play a major role in your awakening," Zara continued, her voice unwavering. "The moment doubt sets in, you are already doomed. If you lack the drive, it is better to walk away now. There is no shame in preserving your life—you can always attempt this process at an accredited center later."

Fear rippled through the crowd. The failure rate was far too high.

One girl burst into tears, stepping out of line. "I-I can't do this. Dad, I'm sorry."

Another boy followed. "I can retry later at an accredited center… I'm not ready."

One by one, students began breaking away, doubt infecting their minds. The withdrawals snowballed into a mass exodus. Over four hundred students abandoned the process, leaving only seventy-five standing.

Angus watched the emptying ranks with a smirk. "Looks like the weeds have been sorted out."

"Well, on the bright side," Denwen murmured, his arms folded, "we get to wrap this up on time."

The air was thick with unspoken words as Zara turned to the remaining students, her expression unreadable.

"The rest of you know what to do," she said simply.

The screen shuffled once more as the show must go on.