The next morning, all the students gathered in the academy plaza.

  The Awakening ceremony had not yet begun, so they waited—dozens of youths clustered beneath the bright sky, with teachers stationed around the edges to keep order. Nearly an hour passed like that, tension slowly coiling tighter.

  WINI and Gonad stood quietly among them, saying little, letting the noise flow around them.

  Any time now, WINI thought.

  A shadow fell over them. A boy with a sharp jaw and mean eyes strutted closer, flanked by two snickering followers.

  “Hey, you musclehead Winay,” he sneered. “Today’s the day I trample you for embarrassing me last year. You’ll see with your own eyes—being big isn’t everything. I’ll make you kneel in front of me.”

  His two friends—Student 10 and Student 12—burst into ugly laughter.

  “Uhuhuhaha, Peble, why are you even talking to these average pieces of trash?” one of them jeered. “They’ll be worthless after today anyway, hahahaha.”

  Gonad blinked. “What? WINI, what are these dumbasses talking about? Do you know that guy—Peble?” He smirked. “Kekeke, that name sounds funny.”

  “Who?” WINI asked.

  “That giraffe?legs, pig?face, rhino?ass guy… who else?”

  “Oh. Him.” WINI’s eyes flicked over the boy once. “I think on the first day we came to the school, he tried to pick a fight and hit me. He broke his own hand. That’s all I remember.”

  Gonad burst out laughing. “So much for his big speech. Self?damage expert, huh.”

  Before Peble could react, a presence appeared at the Awakening altar near the plaza—a man in formal robes, with calm eyes and faint lines of runes etched into the sleeves of his coat.

  One of the teachers raised her voice. “Everyone, gather at the Awakening altar. This is Sir Orkard Allens, who will be guiding you in your Awakening.”

  Murmurs ran through the crowd as they shifted closer.

  “Okay,” the teacher continued, “names will be called one by one. When you hear your name, come up to the altar.”

  A few students looked confused. They had assumed they would be transported directly to Origin Cliff for the ceremony.

  Orkard stepped forward, his voice carrying easily. “In about five minutes, the Awakening event will begin at Origin Cliff. After that, we will conduct the ceremony here, at this altar.”

  “So the event starts at Origin Cliff,” one student whispered, “and then the Awakening ceremonies for everyone are held at the academies’ Awakening altars all around the world… That’s how it works everywhere.”

  “Who is that person, anyway?” another asked. “The one who said he’d guide us?”

  “You fool,” his friend hissed back. “You don’t even know Rune Master Orkard Allens? He’s one of the strongest rune masters in Moonreach City. His awakened soul is Rune Soul—without a Rune Soul, you can’t even become a true rune master. It’s a rare?type soul.”

  The name moved quickly through the students. Rune Soul.

  Rune Soul (as the students understand it)

  Rumors said the Rune Soul resonated with the symbols of creation itself.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Where elemental souls wielded flame, stone, or wind, the Rune Soul interpreted and rewrote the laws that governed those elements.

  Those who awakened it were said to:

  - Perceive hidden symbols in the world—ancient inscriptions, natural laws, even marks left by void anomalies.

  - Inscribe runes by instinct rather than rote practice, their strokes guided by resonance.

  - Bind laws more deeply into artifacts and wards, making their work last longer and cut sharper than common inscriptions.

  But there were dangers too. A Rune Soul mis?inscribing a law could destabilize their own essence. Because of that, Rune Souls were often chosen as inscription masters, archivists, or guardians of forbidden texts. In Awakening centers, they acted as interpreters of anomalies, recording events in runic form.

  People whispered about the path: Rune Soul → Sigil Adept → Law?Binder → Codex Master.

  “The Rune Soul doesn’t wield flame or stone,” someone muttered. “It wields the script of reality itself.”

  “Okay, everyone, be ready,” Orkard said. “We’ll begin the Awakening now.”

  The supervising teacher nodded. “I will call names one after another. Please come to the altar when you’re called.”

  “Henal Xodos, come to the altar.”

  Henal walked up, face pale but determined.

  “Before you begin,” Orkard said, “listen carefully. When you place your hand on the Awakening stone, your mind will be pulled into a space like a different dimension. If you remain calm, you can increase your chances of awakening the strongest soul your mind can tolerate—one that supports you in accepting its nature. Your innate skill will awaken based on your understanding of that soul and the thoughts you hold in that space. Inside, it will feel like nearly thirty minutes. Outside, only thirty seconds will pass.”

  He gestured to the stone. “Now, place your hand.”

  Henal laid his palm on the stone.

  For an instant, the bright day grew even brighter. Several students squinted and raised their hands against the glare.

  Henal’s eyes flew open. He removed his hand, a smile already spreading across his face.

  “Common?type Light Soul,” Orkard announced loudly.

  “Just common type and he’s that happy?” a student whispered.

  Henal clasped his hands as if in prayer. “God, thank you for your blessing and mercy, for this wonderful skill.”

  “And his innate skill,” Orkard continued, “is Light of Judgement.”

  “Ah, now I see why,” another student murmured. “Light Soul is the best among common types against corrupted beasts. With an innate skill like Judgement, he can make a fortune. I envy him…”

  “Let’s continue,” the teacher said. “Next: Rown Akies.”

  Rown stepped up, repeated the process. Heat rolled across the plaza as his Awakening vision manifested—air shimmering, temperature spiking for a heartbeat.

  “Flame Soul,” Orkard called. “Innate skill: Flame Burst.”

  “Student Ten.”

  A boy from Peble’s group swaggered up, placed his hand on the stone.

  “Stone Soul,” Orkard said. “Innate skill: Stone?Like Skin.”

  “Student Eleven.”

  “Stone Soul. Innate skill: Stone Wall.”

  “Student Three.”

  “Wind Soul. Innate skill: Wind Slash.”

  Names continued, one after another—students stepping up, visions flickering around them: flowing water, swirling dust, cutting winds.

  “River Soul, River Dance.”

  “Flame Soul, Flame Burst.”

  “Stone Soul.”

  “Flame Soul.”

  “Wind Soul…”

  “Laxsi Stalwart,” the teacher called.

  Laxsi walked to the altar, face tense but steady.

  “Place your hand on the stone,” Orkard instructed.

  She did.

  For a moment, subtle prismatic glows refracted around her, as if the light itself were passing through invisible facets. Tiny shard?like motes flickered in the air and vanished.

  “Crystal Soul,” Orkard declared. “Medium?grade soul type. Innate skill: Shard Bloom.”

  Laxsi exhaled. “I was hoping for a rare soul,” she whispered to herself, “but… this is still better than common. And the skill is really good.”

  “Oscherin Terrion,” the teacher called.

  Oscherin stepped up, hand steady as she touched the stone.

  Light coiled around her in serpentine patterns—strands of luminosity and shadow twining like a living snake around her arms.

  “Serpent Soul,” Orkard said. “Innate skill: Silent Strike.”

  “Wow,” a nearby student breathed. “She’s born to be an assassin.”

  Oscherin walked down from the altar, having clearly heard. She stopped by the group and looked at them without smiling.

  “You want to test my new skill?” she asked calmly.

  They flinched. “N?no, no, we were just talking to ourselves, hehe…”

  She said nothing more and walked away.

  “Next: Aashna Icenfield.”

  Aashna moved to the altar and placed her hand on the stone.

  The air around her chilled. Frost?like patterns shimmered briefly in the air, and her breath came out in a faint mist. The plaza seemed to fall into a still, heavy silence, like standing over a frozen lake.

  “Ice Soul,” Orkard announced. “Innate skills: Glacial Veil and Ice Spikes.”

  A wave of surprise rippled through the students.

  “What? Two skills?” someone gasped. “That’s so rare…”

  “Rare?type soul and dual innate skills,” another whispered. “She’s definitely this year’s top Awakening in our school.”

  “Nice, Aashna,” the teacher said, visibly pleased.

  “Thank you, Teacher,” she replied, stepping down.

  The teacher looked at the list and lifted her voice again.

  “Next… Gonad Valtoris.”