The morning sun shone bright, announcing the beginning of a new day. The sound of chatter filled the air, people talking, laughing, and going about their business as the streets of the town came alive. Children ran through the cobblestone paths, merchants set up their stalls, and blacksmiths began their early work.
But among all the noise, there was one topic that dominated every conversation.
"Did you hear?" one man asked eagerly.
"Hear what?" the other replied.
"The seventh son of the great war general is having his awakening today."
The man's eyes widened. "Who? You mean from the Grimhold family? General Grim's seventh son?"
"Yeah," the first man said, nodding. "Isn't he the one born from a concubine?"
"Oh yes, the concubine," the other muttered with disdain. "I can't believe they're giving an awakening ceremony to someone who's not even from the main family."
"Well," the first man replied, "he still bears the Grim name. They have to give him at least some respect."
"Tsk." The second man clicked his tongue. "Imagine if he doesn't awaken to anything special, it'd be a disgrace to the entire Grimhold name."
"I believe he'll get something good," the first said confidently. "After all, he carries the blood of one of the greatest warriors to ever live. He can't afford to let his family down."
This was the pressure Rion Grim woke up to.
He was the seventh son of one of humanity's greatest warriors, Lukas Grimhold, the man who led humanity's armies against the demon hordes, who stood undefeated in battle, and who brought countless victories to the kingdom of Astoria, one of the strongest human kingdoms on the continent.
In this world, there existed many types of people. But among them, there were four classes chosen by fate itself to defend humanity against the demons that sought their extinction:
The Summoners. The Casters. The Enhancers. The Warriors.
Each one existed for a specific purpose, to ensure humanity's survival.
At the age of fourteen, every child went through an awakening ceremony. This was when their power, talent, or class would reveal itself, a destiny that could elevate a family's honor or bury it in shame.
The Casters were those gifted with the ability to manipulate mana and shape it into spells. They could call forth fire, bend the wind, heal wounds, and even move the very earth itself. Mana flowed through their bodies like a river, and they channeled it to reshape the world around them.
The Enhancers were different. Their power lay in altering properties, transforming weakness into strength. They could turn liquid into solid, make fragile sticks as strong as iron, and even fortify their own bodies to withstand the fiercest blows.
The Summoners called forth beings from an unknown realm, the Summoning Plane, a mysterious dimension no one fully understood. From there, they could summon phoenixes, ancient beasts, and creatures of unimaginable strength to fight alongside them in humanity's endless war against the demons.
And finally, there were the Warriors, like Lukas Grim himself. They needed no magic, no summons. Their strength came from within, their bodies, their will, their blades. Through sheer discipline and battle instinct, they became humanity's front line, standing against monsters with nothing but mortal flesh and steel.
These four classes formed the foundation of human civilization, the pillars that held back destruction itself.
And today, one more child was about to discover where he stood among them.
[..... ]
Rion woke up already feeling the pressure of the day ahead.
His bed was a small, one-person frame in the corner of a modest room. There wasn't much inside, just a crystal lamp hanging on the wall to light up the space, a small wardrobe, and a wooden table that served as his reading desk. The air carried a faint musky smell, one he'd grown used to over the years.
He got out of bed and walked to the table where a small framed image rested. It was an old painting of a woman with long black hair and deep, gentle eyes, his mother.
She had passed away shortly after giving birth to him. A concubine to his father, she had lived quietly and died quietly. Rion had never known her, never heard her voice, never felt her touch, but the love in her painted eyes was enough for him to imagine the kind of woman she had been.
He looked at the picture, his gaze soft and solemn.
"All right, Mom," he whispered. "I'm going to make you proud today."
He placed the frame carefully back on the table, then turned toward the door. After washing his face and changing into a simple white shirt, dark trousers, and worn boots, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the morning light.
The warmth of the sun brushed against his skin, glinting off his jet-black hair. Around him, the workers' quarters were already alive with movement. Maids and butlers busied themselves with chores, but many stopped when they saw him.
Even though he carried the Grim name, Rion had grown up among them. He wasn't of the main family; his place had always been here, among the workers. And yet, they smiled and waved at him as if he were one of their own.
"Hey, seems like you're ready."
A familiar, feminine voice came from behind him.
He turned around to see Angela, a woman in her mid-thirties with dark brown hair and sharp, watchful eyes. Despite her strict look, her presence always brought him comfort. She had been like a mother to him for as long as he could remember, a caretaker, a teacher, and a constant source of warmth.
She placed a hand on his head. "I know it's nerve-wracking, having all this pressure on you," she said with a faint smile. "But I'm sure you'll do just fine. And no matter what happens, you'll always have us here."
Rion smiled faintly and nodded. "I know, Aunt Angela."
He turned his gaze toward the distance, toward the towering main mansion of the Grim estate. "A lot of people will be watching me today… especially Father. If I can finally show something good, maybe I'll have a chance to enter the main house."
Angela's expression softened. "You really want to prove yourself to your father that badly?"
Rion shook his head slowly. "No. It's not about that," he said. "I just want to move up in life… to build something for myself. Being part of the main house is the only path open to me. So I have to do well today."
He clenched his fist tightly, his jaw set with determination.
He was tired, tired of living in the shadows, of being whispered about as the mistake of the great Lukas Grim. Tired of being pitied, ignored, and treated like he didn't belong.
Today, he would change that.
Today, he would take his first step out of the darkness.