Two hours of sleep.
One cup of bitter, lukewarm mana-infused coffee that tasted like regret.
And zero hope for mercy.
It was exam day at Ashborn Academy—the most elite, soul-crushing institution in the empire—and I was here to prove a point. Not to my estranged family, not to the sneering nobles, but to myself. Ashen Crimson is dead. The weak, broken boy who was defined by his failures was a ghost, a memory.
Only Ashen remains. And Ashen… doesn't lose.
The academy gates loomed before me, two colossal structures of black iron etched with magical runes that pulsed with a soft, judgmental light. The entrance alone was an act of intimidation, designed to scare the dreams out of any weak-willed noble who dared to enter.
Students flooded through the gates in a river of anxious energy. Some walked with a confident swagger, their robes immaculate, their chins held high. Others were shaking, their faces pale, muttering last-minute revisions to themselves. A third group, the largest, were pretending to be confident while shaking on the inside. Robes of every color and sigil marked their affiliations—the snarling wolf of the Crimsons, the stoic hound of the Whitehounds, the twin moons of the Loire family. Some were laughing, a brittle, nervous sound. Others were praying to gods who had long since stopped listening.
Me?
I walked through the crowd like a ghost with a grudge, my expression a mask of cold indifference, my presence a pocket of silence in the sea of noise.
Inside, the Grand Hall had been transformed. What was usually a space for grand ceremonies and royal announcements was now an examination arena of epic proportions. Rows of polished obsidian desks extended endlessly under massive chandeliers suspended by chains of glowing light crystals. The air itself was thick with enchantments—anti-cheating runes that would fry the mind of anyone who tried to use external mana, mental focus amplifiers that sharpened the senses to a painful degree, and even mana suppressors that made casting the simplest spell an impossibility.
They weren't taking chances.
Neither was I.
"Mr. Ashen," a dry, familiar voice called out.
Professor Vael, the chief examiner, stood at the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back. He was tall and lean, wrapped in indigo robes that seemed to absorb the light, and his face was a permanent mask of academic sarcasm. He looked like the personification of 'you're about to fail.'
"You'll be seated at 3-C," he said, his eyes flicking over me with a brief, unreadable expression. "No talking. No mana manipulation. No unauthorized breathing. Good luck surviving."
"Appreciated," I said, my voice cold and flat.
I navigated the rows of desks, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed me. I reached my assigned seat—and of course, it was a cruel joke orchestrated by fate itself. I was seated between two of my favorite headaches.
To my right: Eren Whitehound, the living embodiment of noble arrogance. His silver hair was tied back in a perfect, severe ponytail, his icy blue eyes glowing faintly with contained power. A smirk that screamed, "My father can buy your soul and lease it back to you at a premium," was plastered on his handsome face. He looked far too ready to win.
To my left: Aurelia. Her blonde hair was tied neatly in a functional but elegant braid, her sky-blue eyes sparkling like sunlight on glass. And she wore that same warm, gentle smile she always had for the old Ashen, a smile that now felt like a relic from a forgotten era.
"Good morning," she said gently, her voice a soft melody in the tense silence.
"Let's not," I replied, without turning my head.
She giggled, a light, musical sound. I hated how charming it sounded.
A holographic scroll materialized above my desk, its surface shimmering with arcane light. Runes flickered as the scroll unfurled, revealing rows of intricate, soul-crushing questions that seemed designed to induce a mental breakdown.
A deep, resonant chime echoed across the hall, vibrating in my very bones.
[Written Examination Begins. Duration: 3 Hours.]
Q1. Identify and explain the core differences between mana-induced elemental deviation and natural affinity shift, citing at least three historical examples of the latter leading to catastrophic magical overload.
Q2. Define the precise thaumaturgic and biological conditions required for a dual-elemental contract between a human mage and a Class B draconic beast, including necessary runic modifications to the mage's mana core.
Q3. Diagram the optimal tri-layered runic structure for sealing a C-rank corrupted zone, ensuring containment of both physical miasma and ethereal echoes.
Oh. These weren't just tough.
They were intentionally, sadistically cruel.
But lucky for me, I had a little something called Ashen Crimson's full academic memory, plus two months of brutal preparation, two hours of last-minute revisions, and one rage-fueled ego that refused to settle for anything less than Rank 1.
I picked up my enchanted quill and began to write, my movements fluid and confident. I wrote with the assurance of a man who already knew the answers. Because, in a way, I did.
The quill moved, its magically-infused ink flowing across the holographic scroll. The Grand Hall was silent save for the frantic scratching of a thousand quills. Time passed.
Eren kept stealing glances at me, his smug expression slowly morphing into one of confused irritation as he saw the speed at which I worked. Aurelia looked occasionally surprised when I finished a section and paused to review, already done while most others were still struggling with the first page.
By the end of the second hour, I was reviewing my paragraph structures and checking for grammatical errors. By the time the third hour began, I was leaning back in my chair, staring at the intricate patterns of the chandeliers, utterly and completely finished.
When the final chime echoed, marking the end of the exam, I leaned back even further, crossing my arms with a deep sense of satisfaction.
[Exam Concluded. Results will be released at Midnight.]
Students shuffled out of the hall like a horde of the undead—pale, stressed, their minds empty and their spirits crushed. Even Eren looked unsettled, a faint frown creasing his brow.
"You look smug," he said, falling into step beside me as we exited into the main corridor.
"No," I replied, not breaking my stride. "I look correct."
He scoffed, a sharp, irritated sound. "We'll see tonight."
Later That Night
My inn room was quiet, the only sounds the dim crackle of the candlelight and the gentle, rhythmic tapping of rain against the windowpane. I sat on the edge of the lumpy bed, staring at the blank face of my academy-issued wristwatch.
I waited.
11:59...
DING!
The watch chimed, and a holographic screen projected into the air before me.
[Written Exam Results Released]
▸ Rank Achieved: #1
▸ Quest Objective 1: COMPLETE
▸ Reward: All Core Attributes +10
[USER STATUS PANEL – UPDATED]
Name: Ashen Crimson
Rank: D+
Level: 4
➤ ATTRIBUTES:
▸ Physical Strength: C+
▸ Mana: SS+
▸ Agility & Speed: C
▸ Charm: S (Penalty Removed)
▸ Luck: E+
➤ SKILLS & FAMILIARS:
▸ [All Previous Skills]
▸ Shadow Army – Familiars: Volkin (Rank E+), Goblin, Skeleton, Kobold, Lizardman
I sat still for a moment, letting the information sink in. Then, a slow, deeply satisfied, and utterly evil smile spread across my face.
"#1," I whispered to the empty room. "Take that, Eren."
DING!
[New Quest Unlocked: Place in Top 10 in Physical Test – Reward: All Stats +20]
[Place 1st in Combined Rank – Reward: New Affinity + ???]
"System…" I said aloud, my voice filled with a newfound confidence.
[Yes, your majesty of mediocrity?]
"Charm is back to S-rank. Written exam Rank 1. I'm on fire. Admit it."
[Yes. You are a flaming trash barrel. But now you are a shiny one. Congratulations.]
I laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound.
Next Morning
I woke up at the ungodly hour of 11 A.M., my body still aching from the previous day's mental exertion. I dragged myself out of bed, forced down a stale piece of bread, and headed straight back to the training grounds.
I practiced my mana control until blood trickled from my nose and puke decorated the grass. I pushed my physical limits until my muscles screamed and my vision swam.
My shadow-Volkin growled with what I could only interpret as concern, nudging my hand with his spectral nose. Even the skeleton in my Shadow Army seemed to look worried, its bony jaw hanging slightly agape.
But I couldn't afford to fail the physical test—not when that charm penalty had cost me my only excuse to flirt my way to the top. I needed real, undeniable strength.
DING!
[Stats Updated After Training Session]
▸ Physical Strength: B
▸ Agility & Speed: B
Tomorrow, I fight.
Not just to survive.
But to prove something.
That Ashen is no longer the bullied, broken boy from the Crimson estate.
He's the man who will burn this academy to the ground... with shadows.