Ashen Requiem
Chapter 52: The Weakest

Chapter 52: The Weakest

The sun was just rising over Exodus Isle, dragging its first light through the windows of one of Genesis Academy’s wings.

Dante Godwin slept deeply, the sheets tangled around him.

He hadn’t slept this soundly in... decades, maybe even centuries.

It wasn’t so much the comfort of the mattress or the cool hum of the air conditioner—it was the simple fact of being alive.

An electronic alarm beeped, breaking the silence.

Dante’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils adjusting to the blank ceiling.

He lay still for a moment, listening to Ginny’s soft snores—his makeshift nurse—curled on her bed, one leg hanging off, red hair a mess, mouth slightly open.

— "She has zero problems in her life..." He muttered with mock disdain.

He rose with fluid ease, muscles tight but awake.

A clean white tee, black jeans. Nothing else—he had no intention to impress anyone this morning.

He still felt that odd weight in his chest : a vagueanxiety.

A knock came at the door.

He stood and opened it.

Shigeo stood there, eyes puffy with sleep yet bright with a big grin.

He wore a light jacket over a t-shirt, hands shoved into his pockets, looking a little nervous.

— "Morning. We’ve got to go—the evaluations start in under an hour."

Dante nodded and gently closed the door behind him, leaving Ginny to her dreams.

They walked side by side down the silent corridors of the South Wing.

Shigeo spoke, hands still buried in pockets :

— "Too bad we’re not in the same wing. Mine’s so far from yours. There’s not even a snack machine nearby..."

— "This is just a reception room, we will have our own rooms after the test."

Shigeo glanced sideways—Dante looked lost, eyes glassy, staring at some point between the walls.

— "Hey ? You listening ?"

— "...Yeah. Sorry. Rough wake-up, let’s say."

Shigeo raised an eyebrow—half amused, half worried.

— "Or maybe you’re just nervous."

— "Maybe."

But Dante himself didn’t believe that.

They left the building toward the courtyard and the evaluation hall.

Already, crowds were gathering—dozens of students clustered near the doors, some jittery, others excited.

Inside, the evaluation room looked like a throne hall : circular, with grand columns and mythological frescoes overhead.

Rows of chairs stretched out in hundreds, and in the center glowed a massive translucent stone—quartz-like.

Uniformed upperclassmen and Student Council members observed the newcomers with a quiet arrogance acquired from familiarity with hierarchy.

One was a burly noble with gray hair and crossed arms.

Eduard Von Hohenstauf, "TheWhiteOgre"—his claim to fame : defeating a gang of hybrid smugglers single-handedly at age ten.

Beside him stood a tall, ebony-skinned woman with silver-white hair and gray eyes.

ErisN’Kar, "TheNightlessMoon," famed for defeating an awakened cult leader in the Ombura slums.

— "This year isn’t just a new batch," Eris said to her companion. "We’ve got convoy survivors and regulars. Two different worlds. Let’s see how they clash."

— "They’ll eat each other alive," Eduard sneered. "Convoy kids have hollow eyes. The rest are just rich brats or lucky ones."

Shigeo tapped Dante’s arm.

— "Look—StudentCouncil member. Sadistic demons. I hope I don’t end up in their house."

Nearby, professors stood, more relaxed—chatting, sipping tea—but all eyes watched the proceedings.

— "I always find this moment ironic," said Professor Sylvia, dark-haired and gothic in style. "Hopeful faces, and that damned stone ready to snap their dreams like twigs."

— "Well, everyone goes through it," Professor Frederic replied, sipping his tea. "I was an E myself, and fought tooth and nail to get to B."

But the real overseers were men in suits from the Awakened Association, laptops open, notebooks in hand—monitoring the scans.

Their lead, AriosoKelm—the Judge—stood by the stone.

A slim man with slicked-back, blond hair, round glasses, and a green suit that spoke of diplomacy and special ops.

He cleared his throat.

— "Welcome. In front of you stands the LevelStone, a stone reserved for academy, at the association we use Awakening Stones.

In both cases, It will detect your natural affinity and evaluate your potential.

It will light up in a specific color and intensity, indicating your rank—SthroughE—and assign you a House if the color matches our heraldiccodes.

When your name is called, touch the stone. Don’t worry—it doesn’t hurt. Unless you lie."

He smiled. No one laughed.

Students were called one by one.

Some glowed weakly.

Others gazed in awe as the stone lit up—gold for Solheim, red for Dravon, green for Sylvian, blue for Igris.

— "There’s that girl with the covered eye. SilvaraHume—from a northern orphanage, she masters ice like our president Elsa."

— "I want her in Solheim—just to scare the first-years." Eduard mocked.

— "And who don’t you want in Solheim, Eduard ?" Eris shot back with a smirk.

Johanna’s turn : the stone flared golden. Rank B. Solheim.

— "Johanna Beatrice Don Quixote," Sylvia whispered. "Her posture’s still stiff, but she took down that brute Olivier—no small feat."

Shigeo leaned forward.

— "Congrats, Johanna—Solheim suits you."

She passed by without a look—cold, detached.

— "She’s got charisma. But maybe takes herself too seriously." Frederic commented, still elegant with his teacup.

Dante looked away—his joke about his death had gone too far.

Next, Shigeo touched the stone : faint blue glow. Rank E. Igris.

— "And this one—Shigeo from EastLiun," Eris said quietly. "Rank E, but a good aura. Hidden potential. We’ll have to watch him."

— "Rank E is still rank E. Sad to say, if you can’t make a stone light up properly..." Eduard shrugged with disdain.

— "You know the stone isn’t everything. We assess seeds, not the tree yet." Eris reminded him.

Shigeo muttered under his breath as he returned to his seat, dejected.

Youpi floated on a levitating cushion and tapped the stone—bright red glow. Rank C.

He chose Dravon, and the hall murmured in surprise.

Finally, Dante Godwin’s name echoed in murmurs—a convoy survivor rumored to have slain a Tang three-star mutant on his own.

— "Is this rumor real or a clerical error ? He looks... ordinary." Sylvia frowned.

— "Notice, Sylvia ? His aura’s off-balance. You feel dark energy refined more than that inner spark." Frederic leaned in, analyzing Dante.

— "Or—we may have our first double awakening in twenty years." Murmured the solemn Professor Aster.

He stepped forward slowly, staring off—The other two were shocked to see the honorable Professor Aster gossiping with them.

He had probably discovered what was special about this student.

An unsettling tension go up.

— "Go on, brother," someone in the back called out. "Impress us. You killed Ming Tang—three stars! If you don’t beat a C, I’ll laugh."

Another laughed.

— "Look at his face—he’s heading to the gallows."

But Dante had already shut it out. He closed his eyes, placed a hand on the crystal’s surface, then inhaled deeply—like diving into icy water.

Everything shifted.

No stone, no hall, no voices. The floor disappeared.

Gravity vanished. He floated in void—an endless black space.

No time, no end. Just silence and him.

Until a throne materialized. Atop it sat a king, chained to it.

Fossilized, eroded by time—his skin cracked like coal, his spine unnaturally straight.

And his eyes—two golden orbs, dulled and decayed.

They stared. No—they devoured him. They read everything.

Dante felt his chest tighten, memories rushing : old companion screams, being buried in hell, flames across his arms, blood on his hands, regrets, failures, mistakes.

The king had seen it all. And it crushed him.

— "Sothisisit," he murmured. "TheAwakenedAssociation’srole."

He didn’t wait for the pain to grow him further.

He lunged at the eye, fist aflame with black fire—driven by rage, rejection, raw instinct.

He struck, screaming with all his might. The void shattered.

---

Backinthehall : The stone flared violently.

Red. Gold. Blue. Green.

Again and again. Relentlessly.

The crowd was mute—students, Council members, even teachers frozen.

A whisper broke the silence.

— "What is this...?"

Eris squinted.

— "It’s changing without pattern... It’s... impossible."

The man at the laptop typed nervously.

— "Nothing. Not a trace, even a baby’d leave a energy trace."

---

Meanwhile, Dante trembled. His fingers clenched.

Then—like a spring released—he was thrown back by a force.

His feet skidded. He caught himself, grabbing his hair.

— "Argh... damn."

He gave but half his strength. It didn’t hurt—physically—but exhaustion had settled.

The evaluators scrambled for their devices. Nothing, not a single reading.

The stone seemed to implode. Just before dimming, a fleeting reflection flickered across its shards.

Blue.

The lowest color. The weakest rank.

Rank E.

Silence fell over the hall.

One officer announced, barely audible :

— "...DanteGodwin. RankE. HouseIgris."

The weight of it hit hard.

Igris—thehouseofshame. For failures, the weak, the corrupt. Genesis’s trash bin.

Dante looked down—for a second. He heard stifled laughs. Murmurs. Shock. Confusion.

Even Shigeo’s mouth hung open, speechless.

Even Johanna, normally so poised, raised an eyebrow—half-sorry.

Dante straightened, dusted off, exhaled, and turned to leave.

— "Fine... can I go now ?" He asked the guards.

A nod. He walked out without looking back.

No professor stopped him. No student applauded. He passed through the door. And everyone stayed frozen—uncertain, bewildered.

Yet... nobody had forgotten what he did in the convoy.

So why... an rank E ?

Why... Igris ?

But deep down Dante felt satisfied, pulling a small smile.