The roar of the crowd faded only after several minutes, replaced by murmurs of disbelief.
Class D — the lowest-ranked class in the academy — had defeated Class A in open combat.
Such a thing had never happened before.
Lee Shin stood at the center of the arena, breathing evenly. His blade shimmered faintly with mana residue, and the sunlight glinted off the silver ring on his finger. Across from him, Ha-Jun knelt on one knee, gripping his broken sword, face twisted in rage and humiliation.
"Insolent… you—"
"Enough!" Instructor Rho's voice rang out sharply. She appeared between them, her aura pressing both boys down. "The result is clear. Class D wins."
Cheers erupted once again, though this time mixed with gasps. The officials and professors at the observation deck whispered amongst themselves, analyzing Shin's movements — his impossible precision, his calm demeanor, the way he manipulated mana far beyond a first-year's level.
In the stands, Nonna exhaled slowly. For the first time in years, pride and relief swirled in her chest. But she knew better than anyone that their father wouldn't take this humiliation quietly.
That evening, the academy halls buzzed with gossip.
Students spoke Shin's name like a rumor turned legend.
"Did you see how he disarmed Ha-Jun?"
"Class D might actually rise in rank!"
"They said even the professors were shocked by his mana control."
Everywhere he walked, people stared — some with admiration, others with resentment.
Shin ignored them all. Attention meant nothing to him; it was just noise.
He returned to the dorms quietly. But as soon as he entered his room, someone was waiting — Arin.
Her expression was complicated, torn between pride and worry.
"You really did it," she said softly.
Shin hung his sword by the wall. "It was just another fight."
"Don't say that. It wasn't just a fight — you changed everything."
He looked at her then. The light from the window framed her face in gold. "Change isn't always welcome."
Arin frowned. "You think they'll come after you?"
"I know they will." He sat on the bed, wiping the blade with calm, practiced motions. "Ha-Jun won't accept defeat. And our father… his pride won't let this slide."
Arin hesitated. "Then what will you do?"
"The same thing I always do. Keep moving forward."
She wanted to argue, to tell him he didn't have to carry everything alone — but the determination in his eyes silenced her.
Instead, she stepped closer. "At least promise me something."
"What?"
"When that strength of yours starts eating away at you, don't push me away."
He paused, eyes meeting hers. The ring on his finger pulsed faintly, and for a heartbeat, he saw something strange — a flicker of another time, another woman's face smiling at him through light.
He blinked, and it was gone. "I'll try," he said quietly.
Meanwhile, in a tall glass tower overlooking the academy, Nonna stood in front of her father — Guildmaster Lee Dae-Ho.
The air in the office was suffocating, thick with power and disappointment.
"You're telling me," Dae-Ho said slowly, his voice like grinding stone, "that the bastard boy defeated my son in front of the entire academy?"
Nonna clenched her fists. "His name is Lee Shin, and yes, he did. Fairly."
Dae-Ho slammed his desk, the impact cracking the glass. "There's nothing fair about that brat existing under my roof. His mother ruined my name, and now he humiliates us in public!"
Nonna's voice wavered but did not break. "He's your son too."
"No," Dae-Ho growled, turning away. "He's a reminder. A stain. I should've sent him away when I had the chance."
For a moment, the only sound was the wind against the windows. Then Nonna whispered, "You'll regret saying that."
She left before her father could reply. But as the door closed, Dae-Ho looked down at the communication crystal on his desk — glowing faintly red.
A man's distorted voice echoed from it:
"We have found traces of the boy's mana. It matches the remnants near the old ruins… the same signature as the Reclaimer."
Dae-Ho's brows furrowed. "So it's true then. That ring he carries…"
"Yes, sir. It's not ordinary."
The guildmaster's lips curled into a dark smile. "Then we'll use him — before he realizes what he's carrying."
Back at the academy, Shin sat under the moonlight on the training grounds, the arena empty now.
He replayed the match in his head — every movement, every strike, every surge of energy.
He had been calm during the fight, but something inside him had stirred when Ha-Jun's blade nearly struck Arin. Something that felt old… and dangerous.
He raised his hand and studied the ring again. The inscription glowed faintly under the moonlight, ancient letters whispering like a forgotten chant.
He whispered, "What are you really?"
The ring pulsed — a single beat — and for an instant, the world around him blurred.
He was standing somewhere else — in a desolate battlefield covered in ash and blood. Thousands of corpses stretched to the horizon.
At the center stood a figure dressed in black armor, wielding a sword that shimmered like a star.
When the figure turned, Shin's breath caught — because the face beneath the helm was his own.
The vision shattered.
He gasped and fell to one knee, sweat cold on his skin.
Not yet… you're not ready…
The voice was faint, echoing from the depths of his mind.
He gritted his teeth. "Then I'll be ready soon."
The next morning, the academy announced the official tournament rankings.
Class D rose from last place to third, shocking everyone. Shin's name appeared at the top of the "Rising Talents" list — a record-breaking achievement.
But with recognition came enemies.
Some students began avoiding him; others whispered that he'd used forbidden magic.
And somewhere deep beneath the academy, sealed doors began to tremble — ancient mechanisms responding to the same mana that now coursed through Lee Shin's veins.
He didn't know it yet, but his victory had awakened something that had slept for centuries — something that would soon change the fate of the entire kingdom .