CLEAVER OF SIN

As everyone slowly rose to their feet, weary and drained from the grueling ordeal, their gazes instinctively shifted toward the same raised platform at the far end of the grand hall, the very place where an old man had stood to address them before they were hurled into the forest.

And there he was once again. The old man stood tall and still, his back straight, his aged face unreadable. His eyes, apathetic as ever, scanned across the multitude of candidates without the slightest flicker of emotion.

He did not speak, nor did he so much as gesture. He simply stood there, his presence calm, waiting, waiting for their bodies to steady and their minds to reorient before he began to speak whatever truth was about to follow.

Minutes passed. The groans and coughs of exhausted students slowly diminished, one by one, until silence claimed the vast hall once more. The tension became suffocating. Every candidate's attention was locked on the elder, who continued to regard them with unnerving calm, as though weighing their very souls with his gaze.

Finally, the silence broke. His voice, deep and steady, rolled across the hall.

"I must admit," he began, his tone calm but deliberate, "a majority of you surprised me. Your strategies, your battles, the ways you adapted, the ingenuity you displayed, the sparks of talent you revealed, and the manner in which you wielded your unique abilities. Indeed," he nodded ever so slightly, "I am impressed."

But despite the content of his words, there was no warmth to be found in his face, no spark of approval in his eyes. His expression remained fixed, neutral, unchanging, as though praise itself was simply a necessary formality rather than a true sentiment.

"But alas," the old man continued with a faint sigh, his tone shifting, "the Academy accepts only the top two hundred candidates. Resources are finite. We cannot take more." His words, though simple, struck many like a blade. "However," he added, his voice sharpening, "not being accepted is not the end of the world. Likewise, being accepted does not mean you are guaranteed greatness."

He let the statement hang for a moment before his tone shifted once more, this time firm, brisk, and commanding.

"There are individuals across this Empire who never set foot within the Star Academy, yet they rose to its peaks. And there are those who once stood where you now stand, basking in their acceptance, who nonetheless faded into mediocrity and ended their paths in obscurity. Do not mistake acceptance for triumph. Do not mistake rejection for failure."

The old man's gaze swept across them like a tide as he continued. "So I say to all of you: continue to fight. Continue to claw forward. Continue to walk your path. For those accepted here at the Academy, remember, you stand at the starting line, not the finish. You have merely been granted a head start. The true race lies ahead."

His final words carried a chilling calmness, a quiet weight that pressed into the hearts of every candidate.

The students listened in silence. Some felt their hearts pound faster in their chests, mild panic flickering in their veins as they awaited the revelation of the final rankings. Others stood still and composed, their calmness born not from discipline but from confidence, certain their names would be etched into the list.

Everyone knew, deep down, the oral examination had been a mere formality, a sieve to weed out those unworthy of reaching the true trial. It carried no weight in their final score.

The battle exam had been the sole determinant, the crucible where their worth was forged. The oral phase had only tested their personalities, their knowledge, and the foundations of their thought. But what truly mattered was the battlefield.

The old man's eyes narrowed, and for the faintest moment, the corner of his lips lifted, though not in amusement. It was a smile of thought, distant and private, as he regarded the crowd below.

Just like the Marquis, the four Dukes, the Emperor, and even the Sovereign of the Separate Dimension, he too had observed every moment of the trial.

Unlike the others, however, he had not allowed himself to be consumed solely by Asher Wargrave and Ryaen Silvershade's catastrophic clash. No, his perception was far beyond that.

His gaze encompassed all nine hundred candidates simultaneously, watching each struggle, each triumph, and each downfall without missing even a fragment.

Slowly, the old man raised a hand, then snapped his fingers.

A golden light blossomed into existence above his head, radiating brilliance that filled the entire hall. Gasps rippled through the crowd as the shimmering light began to unfold, stretching outward and flattening, unravelling like an enormous scroll.

Before their wide eyes, the golden glow solidified into a massive scoreboard suspended in the air for all to see.

Hundreds of eyes locked on it instantly, their gazes frantic, desperate. Faces tensed with unease as eyes darted from line to line, scanning furiously to find their own names.

Hearts thundered within ribcages, their beats so violent they seemed audible. Throats went dry, gulps of saliva echoing faintly across the otherwise silent chamber as students swallowed their nervousness.

Asher, however, moved differently. His eyes lifted slowly, almost lazily, and his gaze fell only on the top ten positions. He ignored the rest entirely.

It was not arrogance, nor contempt for those who ranked below him, it was simply that he did not know them. To him, the lower ranks were faceless strangers.

__________

BATTLE EXAM RANKING

1 / Asher Wargrave / 87,498 Points

2 / Vaelra Lux Vanthelmor / 52,398 Points

3 / Vaelric Lux Vanthelmor / 51,383 Points

4 / William Canestane / 49,293 Points

5 / Caelan Stormveil / 49,267 Points

6 / Beryon Ravencroft / 48,989 Points

7 / Darissa Camber / 42,691 Points

8 / Oliver Twist / 41,999 Points

9 / Ryaen Silvershade / 41,998 Points

10 / Michael Morningstar / 41,835 Points

________

A wave of sighs swept through the crowd as countless students failed to find their names upon the list. Faces fell, painted with sorrow and defeat, some pale with disbelief. For many, this was the end of their journey with the Star Academy.

But, among the disappointed, others lit up with joy. Those who found their names grinned, their expressions dripping with pride. Smugness returned to their bearing, arrogance seeping into their posture as they basked in their fleeting glory.

Once the initial frenzy of finding names subsided, attention shifted elsewhere. Now the candidates turned their focus upward, toward the scores of the top ten.

After all, these were no ordinary candidates, they were the children of Dukes, of the Emperor, of old and powerful houses. Their performance was not merely of personal interest; it was a measure of the bloodlines that ruled the Empire.

As eyes ran across the scoreboard, disbelief followed. The arrogance that had swelled in some earlier evaporated like mist under a blazing sun. Jaws slackened. Pupils dilated. The shock was so profound it was almost comical, as if their very eyes could not accept what they were seeing.

The reason for their disbelief was simple. Every single one of the top ten candidates stood above the forty thousand point mark.

It was absurd. Ridiculous. Monstrous.

Those who had earlier felt proud of their scores now felt hollow. Small. Their self-satisfaction shattered in the face of such a gulf in ability.

Compared to these individuals, they felt less like rivals and more like prey who had accidentally been thrown into a den of predators. Wolves, lions, and monsters masquerading as peers.

Even the eleventh rank began only in the thirty thousands, never even brushing the forties. The gap was unmistakable, a chasm dividing the top ten from the rest of the world. It was as though they lived in another dimension entirely.

In the crowd, bitter thoughts churned.

'Tsk. Are we really supposed to share the same Academy with these monsters?'

'Of course. Noble children always have it easy.'

'They should open a separate Academy for these creatures. They don't belong among us.'

'What in the world are they even eating to grow like this?'

'Are they even human? Someone should cut them and check if they bleed red like the rest of us.'

Such thoughts echoed loudly in numerous minds, though none dared to utter them aloud.