When the bell rang, its deep echo spread across the ceremonial grounds like a judgment passed by the heavens.
The noise faded.
And Aurelian von Blackthorne stepped forward.
He walked toward the platform with steady steps, his posture straight, his presence calm. There was no hesitation in his movements, no nervousness in his expression. Yet inside—
'So this is it.'
The platform was vast, forged from white stone etched with ancient runes. At its center stood the Elemental and Potential Orb, floating slightly above a pedestal of crystal metal. It pulsed faintly, as if alive.
Aurelian climbed the final step and stopped.
For a moment, he did not look at the orb.
He looked at his family.
His mother, the Duchess of Blackthorne, sat with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her face was composed, but her eyes betrayed her. They shimmered with worry and pride mixed together.
'Please… be safe,' she prayed silently. 'No matter what happens… just come back to me unharmed.'
Beside her stood Duke Alaric von Blackthorne.
Tall. Calm. Unmoving.
His expression was firm, yet his gaze never left his son.
'Show them,' he thought.
And behind them, leaning slightly on his cane, stood Leonhart von Blackthorne.
The retired Sword Emperor.
His eyes were sharp, piercing, and fixed solely on Aurelian.
'This pressure…' Leonhart realized. 'Even adults would falter.'
Yet the boy stood tall.
Leonhart's lips curved into a faint smile.
'As expected of Blackthorne blood.'
---
The venue had fallen completely silent.
No whispers.
No murmurs.
Not even the sound of breath.
Thousands of nobles, knights, mages, and observers stared at the lone figure on the platform.
All of them were waiting.
Aurelian turned back toward the orb.
He raised his hand.
And placed it gently against the smooth, cold surface.
The orb reacted instantly.
Mana surged.
Aurelian felt it before anyone else—a powerful suction pulling mana straight from his body, far stronger than usual ceremonies.
His brows furrowed slightly.
'It's taking more than it should.'
The orb began to glow.
At first—
Red.
But not the ordinary red seen countless times before.
This red was deep.
Dense.
Violent.
Fire affinity.
Gasps echoed across the venue.
The glow intensified, flooding the platform with crimson light so bright it cast long shadows across the crowd.
"Fire…"
"Such a dense reaction—"
"That intensity—"
In Noctyrr, elemental affinities manifested in colors:
Fire → Red
Water → Blue
Wind → Green
Earth → Brown
Lightning → Violet
Light → Gold
Darkness → Shadow-like ripples
The red before them dwarfed all previous examples.
Even veteran mages felt heat press against their skin.
Yet—
Nothing else appeared.
No blue.
No green.
No gold.
No shadow.
Only fire.
The glow stabilized, then slowly dimmed.
A wave of murmurs spread through the venue.
"He has only one affinity?"
"Is that all?"
"A single element…?"
Some nobles shook their heads in disappointment.
Others scoffed quietly.
But the experienced ones—the dukes, the Magic Tower representatives, the true elites—were silent.
Because they understood.
'This isn't ordinary fire,' Duke Ragnar von Lionheart thought, eyes narrowed. 'This is the highest-grade manifestation.'
Duke Chris von Solvaris adjusted his gloves slowly.
'Such purity… such pressure…'
---
POV: Elena von Solvaris
Elena stared at the platform, her golden hair swaying slightly as she leaned forward.
'Only fire…?'
She felt a strange sense of conflict.
She herself had four affinities—one of them advanced.
Lucian had three affinities—one of them advanced.
At their level, multiple affinities were expected.
'I thought…' she hesitated. 'I thought he'd at least show more.'
Yet her eyes remained fixed on Aurelian.
Because something felt wrong.
The fire glow had faded—but the pressure hadn't.
---
POV: Lucian von Lionheart
Lucian crossed his arms, frowning slightly.
'That fire…'
He remembered his own ceremony.
Compared to this—
'Mine looked like a candle.'
Still, he shook his head.
'One affinity alone won't—'
He stopped.
The orb hadn't released Aurelian's mana yet.
Aurelian felt it too.
The suction intensified.
His eyes narrowed.
'Enough.'
The orb pulsed once.
Then—
It went blank.
No letters.
No symbols.
No ranking.
Nothing appeared.
For a second, silence reigned.
Then laughter broke out among the lower nobles.
"Ha! Nothing appeared!"
"Does that mean no potential?"
"A failure?"
But the laughter died quickly.
Because the orb—
Cracked.
A sharp sound split the air.
Crack.
Then another.
Crack—CRACK.
"Barrier!" someone shouted.
The orb shattered.
A violent explosion of mana erupted outward like a tidal wave.
Aurelian reacted instantly, stepping back as the shockwave surged past the platform.
Mages across the venue raised barriers in unison.
Golden shields.
Blue veils.
Layered mana walls.
Even so, many nobles were forced to their knees, gasping as pressure crushed down on them.
Some knights stabbed their weapons into the ground just to stay upright.
The wave roared.
Then—
It stopped.
The broken remains of the orb clattered onto the platform, lifeless and cracked.
Silence returned.
Heavier than before.
All eyes turned to Aurelian.
He stood untouched.
Calm.
Uninjured.
---
Whispers erupted like wildfire.
"The orb… broke?"
"Twice in history—no, never!"
"That was a high-grade orb!"
The Magic Tower representatives stood frozen.
Tower Master Eldric's fingers trembled slightly.
'It failed to measure…'
Duke Ragnar clenched his jaw.
'This isn't a blessing,' he thought. 'This child is dangerous.'
---
Duke Alaric moved first.
He stepped onto the platform and placed a firm hand on Aurelian's shoulder.
"Are you hurt?"
Aurelian shook his head calmly.
"I'm fine, Father."
Alaric studied him closely, searching for any sign of instability.
Finding none, his frown deepened.
'What kind of monster did my son just reveal himself to be?'
---
After tense discussions among the dukes and Magic Tower representatives, a decision was made.
"Bring another orb," Duke Alaric ordered.
The murmurs exploded again.
Another orb?
Everyone knew the cost.
A potential orb could support a low rank noble family for decades.
But—
No one left.
Not a single person.
They were witnessing history.
---
Half an hour later, the second orb arrived.
Larger.
Denser.
More reinforced.
Protective barriers were erected even before the ceremony resumed.
The air felt heavier.
Aurelian stepped forward once more.
The crowd held its breath.
He placed his hand on the new orb.
Again—
Fire.
Even more intense.
The red light surged violently, forcing even archmages to brace themselves.
Then—
The potential reading began.
And—
The orb cracked.
Exploded.
Again.
The mana wave was even stronger.
This time, some barriers shattered outright.
When it ended, fragments of the second orb lay scattered.
Destroyed.
---
There was no laughter now.
Only fear.
Only awe.
Only understanding.
This power—
Could not be measured.
After long, urgent discussions, a conclusion was reached.
By unanimous agreement—
Aurelian von Blackthorne was assigned a potential rank.
SSS+.
The highest recorded classification.
Aurelian listened calmly.
'SSS+…'
He felt no excitement.
No pride.
Only certainty.
'This is only the beginning.'
---
POV: Elena von Solvaris
Her hands trembled slightly.
'SSS+…'
She looked at Aurelian with renewed intensity.
'He didn't disappoint,' she realized. 'He exceeded everything.'
---
POV: Lucian von Lionheart
Lucian exhaled slowly.
'So that's the difference.'
A grin formed on his face.
'Good.'
---
Duke Alaric stepped forward and raised his voice.
"The Age Ceremony of Aurelian von Blackthorne is concluded!"
Cheers erupted.
He continued, "Tonight, a grand banquet will be held. All are invited."
As the crowd began to disperse, Aurelian turned to leave.
Then—
A voice echoed inside his mind.
Clear.
Calm.
Unfamiliar.
[ Hello, Host. ]
Aurelian froze.
'…What?'
And thus—
The world took its first step toward calamity.