Everyone was appalled.
The weight of Maren's words pressed heavily on the hall, leaving no room for careless whispers or idle chatter. Some students lowered their heads, others clenched their fists, and a few stared ahead with eyes that reflected memories they would rather forget.
Ashan stood quietly, his gaze fixed on the line of professors standing beneath the light.
'They are indeed national heroes.'
His expression remained calm, but his thoughts churned beneath the surface.
'I already know how horrifying that dungeon break was, from my past memories, and from the system's information. Still… hearing it like this makes it feel even more heavier.'
His eyes moved slowly across the crowd.
'Some people here lost their parents. Some lost friends. Some lost lovers. The Demon's Gate was not just a historical incident, it was a wound carved into the nation's collective memory.'
'So many raiders died that day just to close that gate.'
Ashan's jaw tightened slightly.
'Among them were three S-rankers who never made it out alive. Legends who were supposed to stand at the very peak of power.'
His gaze returned to the professors.
'These people witnessed their comrades dying right in front of them. People they fought alongside. Trusted. Called brothers and sisters.'
'It must have been unbearable.'
A faint exhale escaped him.
'Poor people…What kind of expressions would they make if they knew the truth? If they knew about the true apocalypse that's destined to come?'
His fingers curled slowly.
'They can't even imagine its scale. Its impact.'
'Not just this world…'
'If things continue like this, a few other worlds will be completely wiped out as well.'
Ashan's eyes sharpened.
'I need to grow stronger. As strong as possible, before it happens.'
'If I fail…'
His thoughts ended firmly.
'The fate of this world rests in my hands.'
A single step forward cut through the lingering noise.
Aren stood at the front of the hall, the microphone resting loosely in his hand.
Silence followed at once.
"I wasn't planning to speak tonight," he said, his gaze sweeping slowly across the gathered students. "This day belongs to you. But seeing all of you here… I felt it would be wrong to remain silent."
His voice was calm, steady in a way that demanded attention rather than pleading for it.
"Today marks your first step into this academy. The fact that you're standing here means something. You endured the trials. You faced fear. You chose to move forward."
He paused.
"That alone deserves recognition."
Several students straightened without realizing it.
"My congratulations to every one of you," Aren continued. "I'm not here to impress you, nor to inspire you with empty words. I'm here because I believe the next generation deserves better guidance than we had."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"As you were told earlier, we were part of the raid that sealed the Demon's Gate."
The temperature in the hall seemed to drop.
"That event changed this country forever."
Aren's expression hardened, not with anger, but with memory.
"I know some of you lost people that day," he said quietly. "Friends. Family. Mentors. What happened then was not a battle, it was a collapse. Monsters poured out without end. Every defense we trusted failed one after another."
He drew in a slow breath.
"In the end, we made a choice."
His grip on the microphone tightened.
"All high-ranking awakeners were gathered. And we went inside."
"Over two hundred raiders. Seven S-rankers. Fifty-two A-rankers."
A pause.
"We were among them."
His eyes shifted briefly toward Maren.
"While many remember what happened inside the gate, many forget this, Madam Maren held the outside together. While the world burned, she protected civilians, stabilized evacuations, and prevented the city from collapsing entirely."
Maren remained still, offering no reaction.
"For three days," Aren continued, "we fought without rest. No retreat. No relief."
His voice dropped.
"We destroyed the dungeon core."
Another pause, longer this time.
"But the price was heavy."
The hall felt suffocatingly quiet.
"That day, three S-rankers died."
Aren swallowed.
"They were my sworn brothers."
The words carried no drama, only truth.
"I watched them fall," he said. "And for the first time in my life… I understood what it truly meant to be powerless."
He stopped.
For a moment, he said nothing.
"…I apologize," Aren said softly. "I didn't intend to reopen wounds on a day meant to celebrate your beginning."
He straightened, steady once more.
"But you deserve honesty."
"When it was over, I chose this path. Not to relive the past, but to make sure it never repeats itself."
His voice sharpened, forged by resolve rather than rage.
"We chose to teach. To prepare you. To give you the strength, discipline, and judgment we lacked back then."
He looked directly at the students.
"So that none of you will ever have to stand where we stood, watching everything you believe in crumble while being unable to stop it."
A short, deliberate nod followed.
"That is why we are here."
Aren lowered the microphone.
"That is our purpose."
For a heartbeat, the hall remained silent.
Then applause rose, not thunderous, not wild.. but deep, measured, and sincere. The kind born not from excitement, but from understanding and respect.
After the speech, the hall slowly returned to life. Students gathered around the food tables, laughter and conversation rising as tension faded. Ashan ate alongside Nevil, sharing a few quiet remarks, while Narasha stayed close to him, untouched by the food, her presence calm and watchful.
After some time, the atmosphere shifted.
The center of the hall was cleared, and a single beam of light descended from above, bathing the open space in a soft glow. The music began.. slow, steady, and gentle.
An elf couple stepped onto the floor.
For a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.
The elf boy guided his partner with practiced ease, his movements firm yet gentle. The elf girl followed like flowing water, each step light and precise. Their dance was unhurried. Every turn, every spin carried both strength and grace, as if they moved to a rhythm only they could hear.
When she twirled, her dress flared like a rolling wave. When he caught her hand, time itself seemed to pause for a single breath. They moved in perfect harmony, his stability balancing her fluidity, their bodies speaking without words.
The hall fell silent.
It wasn't merely a performance. It was trust, connection, and understanding woven into motion. As the final note faded, the couple came to a still halt, standing close, eyes locked, leaving behind a quiet warmth that lingered in the air.
Their dance broke something open.
Soon, others stepped forward.
Aren and Sisiliya entered the floor next, their movements calm and effortless, shaped by years of shared understanding. One by one, more couples followed, filling the hall with motion and soft laughter. Even in the corners, the beastfolk watched with open curiosity, their eyes following every step.
The night settled into something gentle.
Ashan watched from the side, a faint smile forming without him realizing it.
'How long has it been since I've seen something like this?'
The scene stirred an old memory, his parents, moving together at a gathering much like this. The image felt distant, yet warm, etched into him as one of the few moments that had remained untouched by time.
His gaze shifted to Narasha.
She stood quietly, watching the dancers, her expression unreadable.
'I've never danced before.'
'Not even once.'
He hesitated.
'Should I… try?'
Turning slightly away from the crowd, Ashan activated his Byakugan. His vision swept across the academy grounds until he found a secluded spot, far from the hall, bathed in soft moonlight, hidden from wandering eyes.
'That place will do.'
Ashan reached out and gently took Narasha's hand.
"Come with me," he said quietly. "Just for a moment."