Five years slipped away quietly, and before anyone could realize it, Drawen had reached his eighth year. For him, this age marked an important milestone—one that every child in the empire faced. Turning eight meant it was time to awaken the mana core that lay dormant within.
There were two paths to this awakening. The first, more common among ordinary folk, was to rely on artificially synthesized cores, drawing in pure energy until the spark of life within finally stirred. Normal beast cores, however, could not be used. Their energy was tainted—mixed with waste or even traces of dark essence—that, if absorbed by a child's undeveloped core, might deform it and hinder the path ahead. Thus, only pure, man-made cores were considered safe for this process. It was a difficult road, uncertain in outcome, and many failed to awaken this way. The empire itself could offer little more; after all, its strongest individuals—those of S rank and above—were far too valuable to spare for the countless commoner children. Their duties lay elsewhere: guarding borders, leading expeditions, and serving the empire's higher needs.
The second path, reserved mostly for the nobility, was far gentler and more promising. A child born to wealth and influence could rely on their family's connections, gaining the aid of powerful awakeners to stimulate the slumbering core. Under such guidance, the chances of success rose considerably, as the child's mana was coaxed awake rather than left to struggle alone.
No matter the method, an awakened core almost always began at the lowest rung, F- rank. Still, there were always outliers—children whose cores awakened with unusual strength, standing well above their peers from the very start. Such rare sparks often hinted at futures destined to break away from the ordinary path, figures the world often came to call heroes.
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Drawen fidgeted in front of the mirror, pulling at his sleeves. "Do these robes make me look like a priest? I feel like I'm about to deliver a sermon instead of awaken my core."
Liora, lounging on the couch with her legs crossed, smirked. At twelve, she carried herself with the confidence of someone already recognized as an SS class prodigy. "Relax, little brother. You don't look like a priest. More like a very nervous altar boy."
Drawen shot her a glare. "You're not helping."
"I'm not supposed to help," she said breezily. "I'm here to witness history. Specifically, the history of my brother squeaking like a mouse in front of the elders."
"I won't squeak."
"You squeaked yesterday when a butterfly landed on your arm."
"That was a very big butterfly!"
Liora laughed so hard she nearly toppled over. "Oh, this is going to be good. I should've brought snacks."
Drawen folded his arms, sulking. "You're just jealous. Maybe my awakening will be special. What if I skip F rank entirely?"
Liora raised an eyebrow. "Skip F rank? Bold words from someone who still cries when he stubs his toe. What's next—you'll awaken straight to S rank? The empire will build statues of you?"
"Why not?" he said stubbornly. "It could happen. Some kids do awaken higher."
"True," she admitted, standing and walking over to fix his crooked collar. "But let's be honest. With your luck, you'll awaken to nap rank. Your core's specialty will be sleeping through lectures."
Drawen swatted her hand away. "Better than being bossy rank. Which is what you are."
She chuckled. "Fair. But at least I'm SS class bossy. You'll probably end up F rank stubborn."
Before Drawen could fire back, the door creaked open. A maid stepped in, bowing slightly. "Young Master, Young Lady—the family is waiting in the sacred hall. Please hurry."
Liora leaned down, close to his ear, and whispered dramatically, "This is it. Destiny calls. Try not to fall on your face, or I'll laugh loud enough to wake the ancestors."
Drawen rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching. "If I trip, I'm aiming straight for you."
"Perfect," she grinned, giving his hair a final ruffle as they followed the maid out. "That way, at least our family's ceremony will be the most entertaining one this year."
Liora straightened her robes as they stepped into the corridor, her smirk firmly in place. "Remember, little brother—no matter what rank you awaken to, you'll always be my favorite source of entertainment."
Drawen narrowed his eyes. "And no matter how amazing you think you are, you'll always be my least favorite sister."
"You say that like you have options," Liora shot back, grinning.
The maid coughed into her hand, trying very hard not to laugh. "Young Master, Young Lady… the family really is waiting."
Liora gave Drawen's shoulder a pat that was just a little too hard. "Come on then, pebble. Time to shine. Or… you know, gently glimmer."
Drawen muttered under his breath, "One day, I'll awaken to Annoying-Sister-Slaying rank."
Liora gasped dramatically. "Finally, a useful talent! Let's hope the gods are listening."
The maid sighed, resigned, as the two siblings marched toward the sacred hall—Drawen grumbling about unfair sisters, and Liora laughing loud enough to make sure everyone in the corridor heard it.
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