The courtyard had never felt so loud. Laughter, whispers, and the rhythmic stamping of feet on polished stone collided with Kael's perception, yet he heard none of it fully.
He felt it. The weight of judgment.
"F-Rank. Worthless. Trash."
The words bounced off the crystal-clear light of the Awakening Core and ricocheted across the assembly. They were not just spoken, they were carved into the air, branded into his identity for all to see.
Kael stood at the center, small hands clenched, face neutral, gaze fixed forward. Around him, the crowd leaned in, some curious, most mocking. His F-Rank classification had been announced publicly, and with it, the world had passed judgment.
Darius Blackthorn stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his sharp features. He bowed slightly, mockingly courteous, and then let the crowd's laughter swell.
"Looks like the mighty Kael Veyron isn't so mighty after all," Darius said, his voice carrying just enough venom to slice through the calm of the moment.
Lyra Aetheris, standing nearby, tilted her head. Her eyes studied him quietly, expression unreadable, yet her gaze lingered longer than was polite. Suspicion flared there, small, contained, but it was enough.
Kael's lips twitched just slightly, almost imperceptibly.
The public humiliation was deliberate. The crowd needed a target. And Kael, by all appearances, had become theirs.
Good.
The laughter rose, echoing off the stone walls. Children of noble and merchant houses alike pointed, whispered, and snickered. Teachers tried to mask their glances, but even their disciplined postures betrayed curiosity.
Kael cataloged everything. The tilt of Darius's shoulders. The subtle tension in Lyra's jaw. The glances exchanged between students in nearby rows. Every flicker of attention, every heartbeat in the crowd was data.
This was his first test in years. Not a duel. Not a battle. Not a system scan. A social battlefield. And every reaction would be remembered, logged, and later used to manipulate outcomes.
He imagined himself years from now: orchestrating events so subtly that those who mocked him today would bend to his will without realizing it.
Kael's mind worked faster than his body. He analyzed microexpressions, noting that Darius's confidence was overcompensated by his aura, which betrayed slight impatience. Probability 78% that Darius would escalate the mockery during the first sparring exercise.
Lyra's stance was different. Neutral on the surface, but subtle tension in her fingers suggested internal calculations. She would question inconsistencies, but she would not interfere publicly. Probably 64% she would investigate Kael privately, recording observations for later advantage or intervention.
Kael let the emotions of humiliation wash over him for precisely three seconds, enough to feed memory, enough to sharpen instinct, but he did not react outwardly.
Public perception was an opportunity. He would appear weak, incapable, and irrelevant. F-Rank was perfect camouflage.
A teacher's voice cut through the murmurs. "Next, we will observe F-Rank students' capabilities in preliminary assessment. Proceed to the training hall in groups."
Kael's gaze shifted subtly toward the interior gates. Every detail mattered: floor markings, guard rotations, the trajectory of students entering in groups, and the timing of supervising instructors.
It was already a battlefield.
Kael calculated the first move. He would act invisible, unassuming, until he could gather complete data.
Movement patterns: 90% of students would cluster by familiarity, leaving gaps in perception.Observation: Kael could exploit attention biases. People rarely watch the bottom-ranked students unless they seek amusement. Probably 83% of Darius focused on someone else first.Interaction: Every word, glance, and step would be cataloged. Social ripples could be manipulated in the future.
He studied Darius. Every muscle contraction, microexpression, and subtle inflection would be remembered. Social weaknesses were as exploitable as physical ones.
Lyra remained silent. But Kael knew she would notice patterns. She always noticed. That meant any mistake could have consequences. Observation was a currency in this world, and Lyra had a surplus.
Kael allowed himself a flicker of amusement. F-Rank was a lie, and the lie worked perfectly. The system and society believed him to be insignificant. That misperception would be his advantage.
The real talent, the Void Algorithm, remained sealed, latent, but already registering subtle system fluctuations. Passive readings indicated the presence of external observation. Someone was tracking anomalies, likely the same entity that had orchestrated his previous death and ensured his reincarnation.
Kael's mind cataloged the observer's probable strategy. Their interference confirmed: he had power. They feared it. And that fear could be used.
A ripple passed through the courtyard. Not visible to anyone else. Not loud.
The system flickered again, imperceptibly. A suppressed signal:
External Authority Override Detected
Observation Confirmed
Kael Veyron F-Rank Mask Active
Kael's gaze lifted slightly. From the upper galleries, behind carved stone lattices, a shadowed presence lingered. Still, patient, deliberate. Watching.
The implication was chilling and thrilling: someone with authority over the system itself was tracking him. Every micro-action, every feigned weakness, every subtle gesture was under scrutiny.
Yet the signal also confirmed an opportunity. The Observer had not acted. Their delay suggested they were waiting for something.
Kael smiled faintly.
They had initiated a move. But he would dictate the game from now on.
The crowd's laughter swelled as Darius leaned closer, whispering something cruel meant only for Kael's ears.
Kael's gaze flicked to the shadow above the courtyard.
And in that instant, the whisper reached him not through sound, but through awareness:
"Do not fail again."