After the evaluation, then at night.
The main market outside the academy walls was packed shoulder to shoulder—students, instructors, merchants, travelers. Steam rose from food stalls. Metal clanged. Voices overlapped until individual words lost meaning.
Zen walked with his hands in his pockets, scanning stalls.
"I'm not eating anything that's still moving," he said.
"You say that every time," Rex replied. "And every time you eat it anyway."
Niel walked slightly behind them, eyes mapping the crowd unconsciously. Evan stayed close, relaxed for once. Aren kept his hood low, posture easy—but alert.
Then—
An arm slipped around Aren's shoulders.
Not aggressive.
Not sudden.
Guiding.
Aren stiffened for half a heartbeat.
Then relaxed.
The man beside him wore a plain cloak, fabric worn at the edges. His face was forgettable in the way only intentional faces were. On the left side of his collar, half-hidden beneath the cloak's fold, was a small metallic badge etched with faint runes.
The runes shimmered once.
Then disappeared.
"You should before you collapse," the man said calmly, already steering Aren forward.
Zen turned sharply. "Hey—"
The man didn't stop walking.
"Best stall's this way," he continued, voice steady, confident. "Crowded, but clean."
Something about the way he said it made Zen hesitate.
Aren lifted his hand slightly.
Zen stopped.
They moved deeper into the crowd—not away from it.
People parted without realizing they were doing it. Merchants stepped aside mid-argument. Students slowed, then turned another direction.
Guards.
Zen felt it now.
Not uniforms.
Not weapons.
Awareness.
They reached a small food stall wedged between two louder vendors. The cook barely looked up before nodding and turning to prepare food.
The man finally released Aren's shoulder and leaned casually against the counter.
"Five," he said. "Extra spice."
The cook moved immediately.
Rex blinked. "You didn't even ask what we wanted."
"You'll like it," the man replied.
Niel studied the badge for a fraction of a second—then looked away, heartbeat spiking.
They carried the food to a narrow wooden table squeezed between two packed stalls.
The man took the seat at one end without asking.
Zen sat opposite him, instinctively straightening the moment their eyes met. Aren slid in beside the man. Evan and Rex took the remaining space, Niel standing for a second longer before calmly pulling over another stool.
The table wobbled.
The market didn't.
Noise pressed in from all sides—laughter, bargaining, shouting—but somehow, none of it settled on them.
"Eat," the man said. "Before it gets cold."
They did.
For a few moments, there was nothing but the scrape of spoons and the hiss of nearby oil.
Then the man set his bowl down.
"You all saw numbers yesterday," he said calmly. "Potentials."
Zen looked up.
"Those numbers are not your strength," the man continued. "They are what you might become—if you survive long enough."
His gaze moved across them, slow and unblinking.
"I've watched many young warriors die," he said. "Not because they were weak. Because they believed high potential made them invincible."
Aren's jaw tightened.
"They rushed ahead. Ignored warning. Ignored discipline."
The man tapped the table once. "And they were buried."
Silence settled.
The man's eyes shifted to Evan.
"You," he said.
Evan straightened immediately.
"Do not leave this kingdom," the man said, tone even. "Not for offers. Not for promises."
Evan swallowed. "Sir…?"
"You are welcome here," the man went on. "Always. Protection. Resources. Time."
He paused.
"This is not advice."
The man reached up and touched the badge on his left collar.
Nothing happened.
No shimmer.
No concealment breaking.
It had already been gone.
Niel's lips curved into a small smile.
Zen felt it then.
Not pressure.
Recognition.
The posture.
The eyes.
The weight that statues never quite captured—but tried to.
He had seen that face before.
Carved in stone.
Rex's spoon slipped from his hand and clattered onto the table.
Aren stiffened.
Then—
"Dad—"
The word escaped before he could stop it.
The world seemed to pause.
Aren's face flushed instantly.
"I—" He cleared his throat hard. "I mean—"
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"…Aren," he said flatly.
Zen's eyes went wide.
Rex stared openly.
Evan froze mid-breath.
Niel smiled, satisfied.
"You promised," the man continued calmly, lowering his hand, "not to do that in public."
Aren looked like he wanted to disappear. "…Sorry."
The man waved a hand. "Sit. You're embarrassing yourself."
Aren sat. Immediately.
Zen swallowed. "So we're just… eating with—"
"With my father," Aren muttered, not looking at anyone.
The King glanced around the table.
"Relax," he said. "If I wanted ceremony, we wouldn't be eating street food."
Rex let out a shaky laugh. "Okay. That explains… everything."
Evan bowed his head slightly. "Your Majesty, I—"
"No titles," the King said gently. "Not here."
His gaze softened as it lingered on Evan.
"You're safe in this kingdom," he said. "Remember that."
Evan nodded, overwhelmed.
The King stood, adjusting his cloak.
"Grow carefully," he said. "All of you."
His eyes paused on Zen for half a second longer.
"Potential is loud," he added. "Discipline is what survives."
Then he turned and walked away.
The crowd parted without realizing why.
Noise rushed back in.
Rex exhaled slowly. "…We just had lunch with the King."
Niel nodded. "Confirmed."
Zen leaned back, heart pounding. "…He really does feel like an uncle."
Aren covered his face with both hands.
"I cannot believe I said that."
The academy suddenly felt very, very small.
They didn't talk much after that.
The market noise followed them only partway back to the academy gates before stone walls swallowed it whole. The smells faded. The laughter disappeared. What remained was quiet—and anticipation.
Near the main archway, a notice crystal glowed softly.
Evaluation Results — Posted Tomorrow Morning
All Passed Candidates Assigned Dormitories
Top Ten Overall — Granted Elite Residences
Rex read it slowly, then let out a breath. "So everyone gets a bed," he said. "But only ten get spoiled."
Niel tilted his head slightly. "Elite residences aren't about comfort," he said. "They're about access."
Aren's expression remained unreadable.
Zen leaned against the stone railing, arms folded.
"So tomorrow," he said, "we find out how much the academy is willing to invest in us."
Evan nodded quietly. "And who they expect to survive."
That night passed slower than it should have.
Zen lay on his narrow bed in the temporary lodging, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't thinking about luxury.
He was thinking about numbers written on stone.
Because once the board was revealed, there would be no hiding.
Morning didn't arrive gently.
It arrived with light cutting across stone and the distant echo of voices moving through the corridors.
Zen woke to the sound of someone swearing.
"…Why is it so bright," he muttered, rolling onto his side.
The room was already half-empty.
Two beds were untouched. Three were not.
Aren sat up abruptly, blinking once as realization hit him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and glanced toward the window.
"…We're late," he said flatly.
Zen pushed himself upright. "Late for what?"
"For the line," Aren replied.
Zen froze.
Then both of them were moving.
Niel had been awake long before the light reached the floor.
He'd checked the corridor traffic. Listened to footsteps. Counted how often voices passed the door.
"Morning release," he'd said quietly. "Results board will draw a crowd."
Rex had groaned into his pillow. Evan had already been sitting up.
"You want to be near the front," Niel continued. "Visibility matters."
Rex squinted at him. "You're saying this like it's obvious."
"It is," Niel replied, already standing.
Five minutes later, three of them were gone.
By the time Zen and Aren reached the central plaza, it was already packed.
Hundreds of students filled the open space, voices layered thick with anticipation. The massive stone board stood at the far end, still covered by its dark veil.
And at the very front—
Niel stood with his hands behind his back.
Rex leaned against a railing beside him, looking smug. Evan stood slightly to the side, calm, attentive.
Zen stared.
"…They saved us spots," he said.
Aren exhaled. "Of course they did."
They pushed through the crowd, earning a few annoyed looks, until Rex spotted them and raised a hand.
"About time," Rex said. "I was starting to think you two had decided luxury housing wasn't your thing."
Zen dropped into place beside him. "You could've woken us up."
Niel glanced at him. "I calculated the probability of you ignoring me."
Zen snorted. "Fair."
Aren straightened as he reached the front, eyes already on the board.
The crowd grew louder.
The veil fluttered.
Someone near the back shouted something unintelligible.
Zen felt his pulse quicken.
Whatever was written on that stone—
They were about to see it first.
And this time, there was no crowd between them and the truth.
The veil finished dissolving.
Stone brightened.
And the Top Ten — Overall Ranking carved itself into permanence.
For a heartbeat, the plaza was silent.
Then—
Evan Dawn
The reaction was instant.
A healer.
At the top.
Cheers broke out—not wild, but respectful. Students nodded to one another, instructors exchanged approving looks.
"A century healer—"
"That makes sense—"
"He deserves it—"
Evan looked overwhelmed, hands clenching at his sides. "…I didn't expect—"
Niel nodded once. "Optimal allocation."
The second name appeared.
Aren Valen
Applause followed.
Strong. Confident.
A warrior with perfect score and command traits. People expected him to be there—and were glad to see it confirmed.
The third name etched itself in.
— Mage
A wave of excitement rippled through the crowd. High mana potential always drew attention.
Then—
Zen
For half a second, Zen didn't react.
Then the plaza erupted.
Not whispers.
Not fear.
Cheers.
Loud. Genuine. Unrestrained.
"That's him!"
"The crystal breaker!"
"He smiled through the evaluation!"
"He didn't even flinch!"
Someone started clapping.
Then more joined.
Then the entire front of the plaza followed.
Zen froze.
"…Wait," he said. "They're… cheering?"
Rex laughed. "Yeah. You're likable, idiot."
Aren smiled openly this time. "You endured it. People respect that."
Zen scratched the back of his neck, grinning despite himself. "Huh."
The board continued.
Lyra Voss — Mage
6. Kael Rhyn — Alchemist
Applause again—curious, excited.
Two prodigies.
Different styles.
Both already drawing attention
Then—
Rex Forge
Cheers mixed with laughter.
"That's the weapon guy—"
"Did you hear his family—"
Rex gave a casual wave. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be signing contracts later."
The last names appeared slowly.
—?
9. —?
Finally—
Niel Cross
The plaza didn't cheer this time.
It paused.
Then murmurs spread.
"A strategist?"
"Top ten?"
"First in sixteen years…"
Instructors stiffened.
Niel adjusted his sleeves, unfazed. "Statistical anomaly," he murmured. "Acceptable."
A final line burned beneath the rankings.
Elite Residences Assigned — Report to Central Tower
Five of the top ten.
From the same group.
But the feeling in the air wasn't fear.
It was excitement.
Anticipation.
Hope.
Zen looked around at the smiling faces, the applause still echoing, and felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Not pressure.
Not dread.
Expectation.
The good kind.
And somewhere above the plaza, unseen eyes watched carefully—
Because heroes didn't always rise through fear.
Sometimes—
They rose because people believed in them.
Zen grinned at the applause.
Somewhere in the crowd, the legend warrior jokingly saluted him—then disappeared like this was just another bad idea.