Chapter 22 — What the Light Takes
The hall did not empty evenly.
It emptied by value.
High Tier C candidates were escorted first, officers snapping to attention as Church representatives stepped forward with measured confidence. Their footsteps were quieter than the rest, their presence heavier.
Alex stood where he was.
Low Tier F.
Unmoving.
He watched as Liora was guided forward.
She didn't resist.
Didn't argue.
A priest in white-and-gold armor leaned close to her, speaking softly, as though afraid to be overheard. Whatever he said made her shoulders stiffen.
Then she nodded.
Once.
Slowly.
The crystal light above her flared faintly in response.
"Candidate Liora," the priest announced, voice calm and final, "you will be placed under Church Custodianship effective immediately."
The word echoed.
Custodianship.
Not recruitment.
Not guidance.
Ownership.
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
Alex felt his chest tighten.
Liora turned.
Her eyes found him instantly, as if she'd been searching the entire time.
For a moment, the world narrowed to that single thread of connection.
"I didn't—" she started.
A gloved hand rested gently on her shoulder.
"This way," the priest said.
The words were polite.
The grip was not optional.
Liora hesitated.
Her lips parted again, but this time no sound came out.
She held Alex's gaze a heartbeat longer.
There was apology there.
And something heavier.
Acceptance.
Then she was guided away—through a side passage carved with Church sigils, light swallowing her form until she vanished completely.
The corridor sealed behind her with a soft, echoing click.
Alex didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Something inside him sank—not violently, not dramatically—but deep enough that he wasn't sure he could reach it again.
"She's gone," someone whispered nearby.
"Church asset now."
"She won't even dorm with us."
Leon shifted beside Alex, jaw tight. "Damn…"
Alex said nothing.
An officer's voice cut through the hall. "All remaining candidates will proceed for provisional assignment."
Remaining.
The word stung.
They were herded out.
The academy corridors felt colder now. Wider. More deliberate. Rank markers glowed faintly along the walls, directing traffic.
High Tier C went left—toward elevated walkways and reinforced towers.
Mid tiers were directed forward.
Low tiers turned right.
Alex was shoved backward.
"Overflow," the officer snapped without looking at him. "Block C-7."
Alex stumbled as another cadet bumped into him deliberately.
"Watch it, F-rank."
Laughter followed.
The first punch came near the junction.
A noble cadet—Mid Tier C—stepped into Alex's path casually.
"So this is the unblessed one," he said, voice lazy. "Didn't know they let corpses walk around."
Alex tried to step aside.
A fist slammed into his ribs.
Hard.
Air exploded from his lungs as he staggered back into the wall.
"Oops," the noble said. "Clumsy."
Another cadet laughed. "Careful, you might break him."
Alex slid down the stone, coughing, pain flaring sharp and hot.
An officer stood ten meters away.
He looked.
Then turned away.
Alex forced himself upright.
No retaliation.
No words.
He learned fast.
Block C-7 was exactly what it sounded like.
Old stone.
Narrow halls.
No banners.
No reinforcement runes.
The dorm door creaked as he pushed it open.
Inside were three beds.
Occupied.
A familiar broad back filled one of them.
Leon looked up.
Then blinked.
"…You too?"
Alex nodded.
Leon rubbed his face. "Figures."
Two others turned.
One was lean, sharp-eyed, fingers stained with ink and calluses—Ryn, Low Tier D.
"Commoner," Ryn said quickly. "Logistics blessing. Which apparently means I get to die efficiently."
The other was quiet, sturdier, scars on his hands—Marek, Low Tier E.
"No ability worth naming," Marek said. "But I don't quit."
Alex placed his bag down.
"I'm Alex."
Ryn hesitated. "We know."
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Dinner made it worse.
Whispers followed Alex wherever he went.
"F-rank."
"Why is he still breathing?"
Someone knocked his tray aside.
Food spilled.
No apology.
Leon half-rose, fists clenched.
Alex shook his head.
Not yet.
That night, bruised and aching, Alex lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
Stone.
Unforgiving.
He closed his eyes and focused inward.
Status.
The system responded instantly.
[Hidden Quest: Will of the Weak — Active]
Objective: Procure a blessing
Reward: Information on paths to strength
EXP: +100
Failure Condition: Death or expulsion
Alex frowned.
"A blessing…" he whispered.
Leon rolled over. "You muttering again?"
"Just thinking."
Leon snorted. "Thinking gets people killed here."
Ryn sat up slightly. "You saw how they treated you today," he said quietly. "Low Tier F won't survive field drills."
"I know," Alex replied.
Marek's voice was steady. "Then don't fight fair."
Alex's eyes opened.
He replayed the blessing test.
The crystals.
The resonance.
The Church's interest in Liora.
Blessings weren't infinite.
They were fragments.
And fragments could move.
He clenched his fist.
Not now.
But soon.
Outside, the ocean roared against the cliffs.
Somewhere on the island, bells rang again.
Alex lay still.
Bullied.
Separated.
Written off.
And for the first time since entering the academy—
He felt the weight of the sky pressing down on him.
Low Tier F.
Unblessed.
Alone.
But alive.
And planning.
======================================
Alex system preference
[Host:Alex Rim]
[Race:Human]
[level:1]
[EXP:0/200]
[STR: 10]
[AGI:10]
[END:10]
[PER:10]
[Charm:locked]
[Abyssal energy: 30/30]
[system sync: 17/1000]
[Rank:F (low)]
[shop: locked]
[quest:2]
[Beginner quest:Survive and grow]
[progress:15/100%]
[reward:????]
[Hidden quest: Will of the Weak]
[reward: Information on the Path of Strength]
[EXP+100]
[skill:minor regeneration]