Chapter 21 — The Will of the Weak
The blessing hall was older than the academy itself.
That was the first thing Alex felt the moment they stepped inside.
Stone pillars rose like the ribs of a colossal beast, etched with runes so ancient their meanings had eroded into symbolism rather than language. Above, the ceiling curved into a dome filled with suspended crystal arrays—each one pulsing softly, resonating with unseen forces.
Soul energy.
Divine residue.
Judgment.
The surviving candidates were arranged in long lines across the hall's circular floor. No one spoke. Even Leon, who had joked through pain earlier, stood rigid now, jaw tight.
This was different.
The pressure here wasn't physical.
It was existential.
A priest's voice echoed across the chamber.
"The Blessing Test determines compatibility, not worth," he said calmly.
No one believed him.
"Blessings are fragments of higher wills," another priest continued, her eyes glowing faintly silver. "They resonate with the soul. Some resonate loudly. Others… do not."
Alex felt Liora tense beside him.
Above them, the crystals flared brighter.
"Candidates will step forward when called," the priest said. "The crystal will respond. Rank will be assigned."
A murmur spread through the hall.
Ranks.
This was the line.
The separation.
"Highest possible assignment for academy entrants," the priest added, "is High Tier C. Anything above that is… unnecessary."
Necessary for control, Alex thought.
The first name echoed.
"Leon Draxis."
Leon exhaled sharply and stepped forward.
A crystal descended, hovering inches from his chest. The moment it aligned with his heart—
It flared crimson.
Energy surged outward, forming the faint outline of a beast behind him—fangs, muscle, dominance.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"Mid Tier C," the priest announced. "Combat-oriented blessing. Military lineage confirmed."
Leon staggered back, breathing hard, eyes wide.
"…Mid C?" he whispered, disbelief and pride tangled together.
Military aristocracy, Alex thought.
Next.
"Kara Veyne."
Kara stepped forward, calm, eyes sharp.
The crystal pulsed silver-blue, forming shifting sigils—calculations, pathways, probabilities.
"High Tier D," the priest declared. "Strategic cognition blessing."
Kara nodded once and stepped back.
Respect followed her.
Then came the nobles.
Royal bloodlines.
Some flared brilliantly—High Tier C, Mid C—eliciting murmurs, bowed heads, whispered admiration.
Others barely registered.
Low Tier D.
Low Tier E.
Their faces fell.
Reality set in.
This wasn't about names anymore.
It was about light.
Then—
"Liora."
The moment she stepped forward, the hall reacted.
Crystals vibrated violently, chiming like struck glass. Light surged—not outward, but inward—pulling toward her as if drawn by gravity.
Alex's breath caught.
The crystal hovering before her turned pure white.
Then—
Gold.
Not explosive.
Refined.
The air thickened, pressure rolling through the hall like a tide. Some students staggered. A few dropped to one knee.
The priests stiffened.
"Impossible…" one murmured.
Behind Liora, an image formed—not of an element, not a beast—
But a luminous silhouette, vast and indistinct, like a soul reflected through water.
"Soul Compatibility detected," the crystal intoned.
The hall erupted.
"High Tier C," the head priest announced carefully. "Rare classification. Soul-aligned blessing."
The words that followed were quieter.
"And… adaptable."
Church officials exchanged glances.
One stepped forward immediately. "This candidate will be placed under Church Observation."
Liora turned.
Her eyes met Alex's.
Apology flickered there.
And something else.
Acceptance.
Alex felt it then.
Distance.
Then—
"Alex Rim."
Silence.
Not anticipation.
Not excitement.
Dismissal.
He stepped forward.
The crystal descended.
Hovered.
Nothing happened.
Seconds passed.
Murmurs crept in.
"Is it broken?"
"Unblessed?"
The crystal flickered faintly—so faint it was almost embarrassing.
A dull gray glow.
No manifestation.
No resonance.
No echo.
The priests frowned.
One adjusted the runes.
Still nothing.
Finally—
"Low Tier F," the priest announced.
The words landed like a verdict.
A ripple of disbelief swept the hall.
"F?"
"Why is he even here?"
"That's below standard soldier rank."
Scorn followed quickly.
Whispers sharpened.
Laughter—quiet, cruel.
Alex stood still.
His chest burned.
Not from shame.
From something worse.
Irrelevance.
A noble scoffed openly. "A burden."
A military cadet shook his head. "He'll die in the first field drill."
Even Leon looked conflicted, unsure where to stand.
Liora's hands clenched.
The priest continued, voice clipped. "No elemental alignment. No blessing manifestation. No measurable growth vector."
He paused.
"Candidate accepted provisionally."
Provisionally.
Alex stepped back.
He felt smaller than he ever had.
Inside him, the system stirred.
Not in anger.
In response.
[Hidden Quest Activated]
[Will of the Weak]
[Description:
You have been judged unworthy by power.
Prove that strength is not granted—
It is taken.]
[Objective:
Procure a blessing.]
[Reward:
• Information on paths to strength
• EXP +100]
Alex froze.
A blessing?
Now?
When he'd just been declared incapable?
His thoughts raced.
This—this was impossible.
And yet—
The system had never lied.
Above, the Church priest addressed the hall again.
"From this moment onward," he declared, "rank defines access. Training priority. Resources."
His gaze flicked briefly to Alex.
"And survival expectancy."
The hall began to disperse.
Students clustered by rank.
High Cs surrounded by officers.
Mid tiers praised.
Low tiers ignored.
Alex stood alone.
The island's wind howled through the high windows.
He looked up.
At the crystals.
At the banners.
At the sky barely visible beyond stone and steel.
Low Tier F.
Unblessed.
Discardable.
His fingers clenched.
Inside him, something ancient smiled.
If blessings defined the strong—
Then taking one would change everything.
And somewhere on the island—
A path had just opened.