CHAPTER 152: ACADEMIC SYSTEM AND CALL OUT.

(A/N Big thanks to everyone for the Power stones and Golden tickets, they mean a lot. As usual, please don’t hesitate to comment or drop a review. ENJOY)

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The moment the clock’s thin silver hand aligned with the glowing mark for 8:30, the classroom lights softened, signaling automatic initiation of the attendance period.

Then—

A sharp spatial displacement rippled across the room.

Instructor Doran appeared at the front of the hall with the same quiet precision as the day before—back straight, uniform immaculate, expression unreadable. His arrival was so punctual it was almost uncanny.

"Good morning, A1."

The twenty students rose instantly.

A faint smile crossed his face. "Excellent. All present, all early. As expected of you."

He gestured lightly. "Sit."

Chairs slid back in sync as the group settled.

Doran clasped his hands behind him, sweeping a slow, measured look across all twenty. "Before you begin your actual lectures for the day, we’ll handle formal introductions. Stand when called. Give your name and your division. Nothing more."

He tapped a floating sigil. The list projected into the air.

"Starting with rank one."

One by one, the students rose.

"Orion. Combat Division."

"Erevan. Combat Division."

"Seris. Combat Division."

"Thaddeus. Combat Division."

"Caelum. Combat Division."

"Kaelen. Combat Division."

"Selene. Combat Division."

"Yurei. Scholar Division."

"Arlen. Combat Division."

"Daenys. Combat Division."

That ended the first ten — the ones from the trial’s upper standings.

Then the remaining ten.

Doran continued crisply, without pause.

A girl with softly curled silver hair rose.

"Lyria. Scholar Division."

A boy with sharp eyes and a quiet demeanor.

"Callor. Scholar Division."

Another girl, her hair tied in a strict knot.

"Maera. Scholar Division."

A boy with noticeably refined posture.

"Rhyden. Combat Division."

A calm-faced girl who seemed almost too observant.

"Irelle. Scholar Division."

A lean boy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Tarin. Scholar Division."

Then the final four—Combat Division again.

A girl with a confident grin.

"Sivra. Scholar Division."

A boy who stood like a seasoned trainee.

"Jalen. Combat Division."

Another girl with sharp, foxlike eyes.

"Reina. Combat Division."

And lastly, a boy whose presence felt heavier than expected.

"Orric. Combat Division."

Doran nodded once the last student sat.

"Good. Seven scholars, thirteen combatants."

His tone shifted—becoming razor-clear.

"Now, lets discuss your academic system, listen carefully."

"Your academic system at the Chronos functions in cycles. Every two months, you are examined in all ten of your courses."

A projection unfolded behind him—ten glowing spheres representing the ten subjects.

"Each exam grants a maximum of one hundred points. Ten exams—one thousand possible points per cycle."

He let that sink in.

"These points are added to your current standing total to determine your rank within the year."

Another chart appeared:

Rank 1 — 1000 points

Rank 2 — 975

Rank 3 — 950

...

Rank 20 — 500

Rank 21 — 0

Rank 5000 — 0

A few students inhaled sharply.

Orion didn’t.

He had already predicted something similar.

"You twenty are starting with a buffer," Doran continued. "A gap earned from your trial performance. But do not let this deceive you."

His gaze sharpened.

"The rest of the year begins at zero. They will be fighting to climb. You will be fighting to maintain."

Seris leaned forward a bit.

Thaddeus crossed his arms.

Caelum didn’t react outwardly—but his eyes narrowed.

Doran continued, voice steady.

"Class shuffling occurs every four months. Two exams. Two full cycles."

He raised one finger.

"That is when your positions become vulnerable."

Another.

"That is when your class—your home, your schedule, your prestige—can change."

His stare became firm, almost heavy.

"And yet... A1 has not shifted in four consecutive generations. Not once has a student been demoted from it. Nor has any outsider made it in."

Orion felt every head in the room tense.

Doran’s voice dropped lower.

"I expect this streak will remain unbroken."

Silence followed.

Then Doran continued.

"As for your points, your score out of a thousand at the end of an exam cycle is multiplied by ten. These become your usable points for the next two months."

He folded his hands behind his back.

Callor lifted a hand. "Sir, that would mean if someone scored nine hundred points they would—"

"Have ninety thousand usable points for the cycle," Doran finished.

"Even if they were rank twenty?"

"Yes. Your rank determines class. Not your points."

He gestured again, lines of text shifting across the projection.

"You will receive detailed manuals after the session. Read them. Do not skim. This system determines the next four years of your lives."

He took a calm breath.

The clock above the door shifted.

8:47.

"Now then," Doran said quietly, "for a final note."

Everyone straightened.

"There are... certain matters from last night that require addressing."

Orion’s heartbeat slowed.

Not sped up.

Slowed.

He knew this was coming.

’Of course he knows’ Orion thought.

Doran continued as though discussing weather.

"At approximately 9:00 pm yesterday evening, I received info that several individuals from this class chose to leave their dorms and had yet to return."

Every eye turned sharply.

Arlen sucked in a breath.

Seris’s brow shot up.

Selene blinked in surprise.

Thaddeus placed his palm on his face.

Doran lifted a hand to silence the growing whispers.

"No punishments will be issued, you committed no offense. I simply require clarification."

His stare swept the room once... twice...

Then settled.

"Orion. Caelum. Erevan. Thaddeus. Arlen."

The exact five.

"Remain behind after dismissal."

A small ripple of shock moved through the class.

Seris looked at Orion and Caelum with clear curiosity.

Orion didn’t react.

Not externally.

Internally?

He just sighed.

He’d already sensed Doran’s attention lingering on them the moment they entered the room.

The instructor checked the time one final time.

8:50.

"Session dismissed."

The students collectively exhaled.

Chairs scraped. Books shut. Conversation bloomed immediately—some hushed, some curious, some outright nosy.

But Orion stood still.

So did Caelum, Erevan, Thaddeus, and Arlen.

The others hesitated before slowly stepping out, throwing not-so-subtle backward glances.

The door closed.

Leaving only the five of them.

Orion lifted his chin slightly.

Doran finally turned to face them fully.

And his expression—

Had shifted.

Not angry.

Not disappointed.

Just...

Sharpened with purpose.

"Now," Doran said softly.

"Let’s talk."