The other recruits watched from a distance, eyes wide as the wind around the training ground began to whip faster. The once bright and calm atmosphere had shifted—tense now, charged with something heavy and alive.
Zane's glow intensified.
One of the recruits swallowed hard. "He actually did it… didn't he?" he murmured to the one beside him. "Zane's really becoming a First Rank being. At just twelve."
A soft chuckle followed—equal parts pride and disbelief. "Yeah. He is."
There was a pause before the first voice returned, tinged with wonder. "You think he'll get into Archon Academy?"
The second recruit shrugged, eyes never leaving the figure at the heart of the storm.
"Who knows? With progress like that… he just might."
In the eyes of the recruits, Zane was one of their own.
A commoner—just like them.
And yet, here he was, standing shoulder to shoulder with nobles. Matching them blow for blow. Step for step.
Watching him rise sparked something deeper than awe.
It stirred pride. Respect.
Because if Zane could rise this far… maybe they could, too.
Aidan stood ahead of the others, apart—but not because of distance. He didn't hear the whispers, the murmurs rippling behind him.
His eyes were fixed on one thing.
Zane.
And as he watched, something stirred inside him.
He remembered—faint moments from the past month. Spars. Shifts. Movements.
Zane's strength had been changing. Quietly. Steadily.
There was a new weight behind every strike. A sharper edge to his steps.
It hadn't been obvious at the time. But now… now it made sense.
Zane had been approaching this threshold for a while.
And Aidan, caught up in everything else, had failed to see it.
He sighed, the realization settling in his chest.
In the pursuit of strength… had I stopped seeing the people around me?
He thought of his mother—how he only saw her when she came to find him. He trained. He read. He fought. But beyond that…?
What was he doing?
Aidan clenched his jaw, a flicker of guilt tugging at him.
And then—like a warning—the air shifted again.
A sharp sensation pricked against his skin, like invisible blades brushing across him. He tensed, eyes narrowing.
Matthew's voice cut through the silence. Calm. Controlled.
"Don't worry," he said.
"It's the mana reacting to Zane. He'll either ascend— to become something more than just mere human—or he'll perish, unable to contain the power."
Matthew's gaze lingered on Aidan for a moment before shifting back to Zane, his expression stern as always.
Zane now floated in the sky in a lotus position, suspended above the tree in training ground.
Mana poured into his body—steady, focused.
At the center of it all, his core finally stabilized, rooting itself deep within him. It began to purify the incoming energy, stripping it of the world's influence—turning it into something else.
His.
As the refined mana flowed, it slipped through every corner of Zane's body, soaking into muscle, bone, and spirit.
He had never felt like this before.
There was strength—and then there was this.
Power that hummed beneath his skin. Power that obeyed him.
It wasn't just overwhelming. It was absolute.
For the first time, Zane truly felt like he could destroy anything that dared to stand in front of him.
Zane took a deep breath, forcing his heartbeat to settle.
He hurriedly calmed his mind, letting the adrenaline fade as he grounded himself in reality.
This wasn't the end.
It was just the beginning.
He had taken his first true step onto the path of Rankers—and now, the real journey awaited.
His eyes opened.
And with that single motion, a gust of wind burst outward—like a shockwave born from his gaze, sweeping toward the crowd below.
The recruits flinched.
But Matthew, standing at the front, simply exhaled. A sharp puff of breath—and the wind scattered, vanishing like smoke.
Zane laughed, the sound light and wild as he looked down from the sky.
But the surrounding mana, no longer sustaining his flight, began to recede.
In an instant, gravity reclaimed him.
His body dropped.
He fell fast—but his instincts kicked in. Twisting mid-air, he adjusted just enough to land hard but upright, sliding a few steps back across the ground.
Not graceful. But controlled.
Zane laughed softly, the sound lazy and a little dazed. He scratched the back of his head, still catching his breath, then glanced toward the two figures standing ahead of him.
"What do you think, Master?" he asked, then turned to Aidan with a smirk. "Not bad, right?"
He grinned, eyes flicking to Aidan with just enough mischief to say, I know—I'm awesome.
Aidan's eye twitched as he looked at the proud expression on Zane's face.
Typical, but even so Aidan noted all the changes of Zane.
The heavy atmosphere seemed to lift as Zane's transformation came to an end.
He stood there—not just stronger, but changed.
His once-rough brown hair now shimmered with a soft, natural glow, catching the light in a way it never had before. His eyes, the same rich brown, had deepened—sharp, focused, his Hunter's eyes deepened.
There was something in them now that hadn't been there before. Something that made people hesitate.
His skin, once rough and dusty from his days in the slums, had become smooth, refined. The faint scars and bruises that had once marked his face—proof of every fight, every struggle—had vanished.
His features had sharpened, his posture more grounded.
Zane no longer looked like a boy scraping his way up.
He looked like someone who belonged at the top.
Aidan opened his mouth, pausing for just a second as he looked at the new Zane standing before him.
"Congratulations," he said, his voice calm—but genuine.
Then, after a brief silence, he asked the one question burning in his mind.
"What's your attribute?"
"Ah… that," Zane said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not exactly sure yet."
He glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers as if trying to feel something new.
"Maybe… weapons?" he muttered, half to himself.