CHAPTER 68: A UNIQUE CLASS?!

He had spent quite a fortune to purchase that F-rank Dash skill—more than most people in the village could ever dream of having.

He had done it quietly, through a traveling merchant who occasionally passed through from the outer towns.

The price had been absurd for something of such low rank, but even an F-rank skill was valuable for commoners who couldn’t easily afford them.

He had hoped that by acquiring it for Brad before the official class awakening, it might give his son a better chance of receiving something above the ordinary.

He hadn’t told anyone the full truth about this, not even the other elders of the village.

The skill book had cost him several months of savings, and he had justified the expense as a necessary investment in his son’s future.

He had believed, truly believed, that the Dash skill would strengthen Brad’s mana circulation just enough to influence the awakening process—perhaps nudging the crystal toward blue light instead of green.

But now, looking at the floating word before him, he realized it had all been for nothing.

His own class was of the common grade, a fact he had long come to terms with.

Though he was the village chief, he knew he was nothing more than a small fish in the vast pond of the kingdom.

There were countless others above him—knights, nobles, adventurers—people whose power far outstripped his own.

But that was exactly why he had wanted Brad’s future to be brighter than his. He wanted his son to walk a higher path, to live without the limitations he himself faced.

Fate, however, seemed to have other plans.

Brad, still standing before the now dull crystal, looked shaken.

The smug confidence he had worn earlier had drained completely from his face. His eyes were wide and filled with disbelief as he stared at his trembling hands.

"T–This has to be a mistake..." he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

His lips quivered, and he took a hesitant step forward, his gaze darting back toward the crystal as though hoping it would suddenly change its result.

He turned toward his father, desperation flickering in his eyes.

"Yes... let me try it again, Dad," he said, his tone shaky but determined. "I’ll awaken a good class this time!"

The village chief’s face darkened instantly. His brows furrowed, and his tone turned sharp, though restrained.

"No," he said firmly, his voice echoing across the silent field. "Leave, Brad."

Brad froze, staring at his father in disbelief.

The chief’s eyes were cold now.

Even though Brad was his son, he couldn’t afford to show any form of favoritism during such an important ceremony.

Not only would it tarnish his name as the village chief, but it would also draw the ire of the knights watching nearby.

More than that, he knew there was simply no point. The crystal was accurate—impossibly so. Once it had decided, the result was final. Nothing could be done to alter or change it. Trying again would only make a mockery of the ceremony itself.

Brad opened his mouth again, his fingers trembling as though he wanted to argue, but before a word could leave his lips, an immense pressure suddenly crashed down upon his shoulders.

His breath hitched sharply. His knees buckled under the invisible weight, slamming into the ground with a dull thud.

His eyes went wide with terror as the world seemed to grow heavier around him.

It wasn’t physical weight—it was mana pressure, thick and suffocating, pressing against his very bones.

His face turned pale in an instant, beads of cold sweat rolling down his temples as his trembling hands clawed weakly at the ground.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest, his lungs burning as though the air itself had become too dense to breathe.

And then, amidst the crushing silence, a soft, yet terrifyingly cold voice reached his ears.

"Don’t waste others’ time."

Those few words drifting into his ears carried more force than a simple shout.

Though they were only spoken quietly, each word vibrated with power.

Brad didn’t even need to look up to know who it came from. The knight general.

His lips trembled uncontrollably, and before he even realized it, he nodded frantically, his head bobbing up and down like a frightened animal.

He scrambled to his feet clumsily, nearly tripping over himself as he stumbled backward.

"Y–Yes ma’am!" he stammered out, his voice cracking as he turned on his heel and pathetically ran out of the ceremony.

The crowd parted instinctively as he bolted past, his face flushed with humiliation and fear.

The murmurs followed him, faint laughter mixing with sympathetic sighs, but he didn’t dare look back.

All he could think about was escaping the suffocating weight that had crushed him moments ago.

Behind him, the village chief stood still, his face an unreadable mask, though deep inside, his stomach twisted in embarrassment and frustration.

A huge part of him wanted to say something, to at least defend Brad or save his dignity, but his lips remained shut.

He could feel the sharp, cold presence of the knight general standing right beside him, her arms crossed and her piercing gaze fixed on the crystal in silence.

That alone made him swallow hard, forcing his mouth shut as he clenched his fists behind his back.

Any attempt to speak in defense of his son would only make him look even more pathetic in her eyes.

After all, he was still trying to curry favour from her.

Around them, murmurs began to spread through the crowd like wildfire.

"Hahaha, Brad ran away."

"A farmer! After all the arrogance he showed around the village, calling us peasants!"

"To think he bolted like that, belly shaking like a sack of dough—pfft!"

Laughter rippled through the watching teens, and even some of the adults couldn’t hide their smirks.

They quickly covered their mouths, pretending to cough or look away, but their true thoughts was written over their faces.

Brad heard some of their words as he stumbled out of the fenced area, his steps uneven and desperate.

His large belly jiggled with each motion, his face pale and sweaty. His hands clenched tightly at his sides as he muttered under his breath, "It’s... it’s a mistake... it has to be..."

But the voices behind him only grew louder. The humiliation burned hotter in his chest until it became too much, and he broke into a half-run, escaping the snickers and scornful eyes.

Damien’s eyes narrowed as he watched the entire scene unfold.

His expression remained calm, unreadable even, but his gaze lingered on Brad’s back for a moment longer before he exhaled quietly.

When the laughter finally subsided, the chief cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure.

"Next!" he called out, his voice carrying a trace of restrained frustration.

And that was when Damien’s name was called.

Damien stepped forward, stopping in front of the crystal.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his right hand and placed it gently on the crystal.

The moment his palm touched the smooth, cool surface, he felt a strange sensation run through him.

It was like a flowing, living energy seeped into skin from the crystal, coursing through his arm.

It spread to his chest, then his legs, then his head, like invisible threads drifting within him.

His vision flickered for a second.

[Beginning Class Awakening...]

[...]

The crowd held their breath, waiting. Seconds passed. Nothing happened.

The village chief’s brows furrowed slightly, his fingers tapping nervously at his side. The crystal remained dull and colorless.

He leaned forward, about to open his mouth and instruct Damien to step away—

—when the crystal suddenly flared.

It began with a faint hum, then erupted in a blinding burst of orange light that forced several people to shield their eyes.

The glow was intense, vibrant, and far stronger than anything that had come before.

The air shimmered as if the crystal itself was radiating heat, and the entire clearing was bathed in its brilliance.

"What—what is that color?!"

"Orange?! That’s—!"

"A unique class! That’s the color for a unique class!"

The chief’s eyes widened, his pupils trembling as he stared at the glowing crystal in disbelief. His jaw went slack, and for a long, silent moment, he couldn’t even breathe.

Beside him, the knight general’s eyes finally shifted, her previously impassive expression flickering with visible interest.

The others still waiting for their awakening test were speechless, frozen in awe.

No one had expected that—especially not right after the chief’s son had failed so miserably.

The light continued to blaze brilliantly, as if trying to prove to everyone around that what they were seeing wasn’t an illusion.

The village chief’s mouth opened slightly, and he whispered under his breath, barely audible to anyone but himself.

"A... a unique class...?"

He glanced at Damien, then back at brightly glowing crystal over and over again in disbelief.

The light finally dimmed, retracting back into the crystal.

A set of words appeared on its surface, glowing bright orange before the gazes of Damien and the village chief.

[Class: Spellblade]