The moment Aaron's palm touched the orb—
It felt cold.
Yet at the same time… warm.
A contradiction that sent a faint shiver through his entire body.
His eyes flared slightly as magic began to gather.
At first, it was subtle.
Then—
It intensified.
Magic condensed around him in visible streams, spiraling faster and faster, growing denser with each passing second.
More
And more
And even…more
Before Headmaster Xyros, a panel formed.
For the first time, his mouth opened slightly.
"…Dual Class wielder."
A ripple ran through the students.
The panel stabilized.
"Aaron Veyrath
Class 1: Summoner: Sovereign
Class 2: Genesis Mechanic
Magic Tier: 3.4"
Murmurs broke out instantly.
"A dual class…?"
"But only Tier 3.4?"
"That's barely Transitional…"
Before the reactions could settle—
The orb flared again.
A massive summoning array unfolded beside Aaron, layers of intricate spells forming a complex, glowing structure.
Something stepped through.
A figure.
Tall—over six feet.
Clad in flexible, fitted armor reinforced with compact brass pauldrons. In both hands, it held weapons—
Two
double-barreled hand shotguns, dark gold and intricately engraved.
Its hood was white.
Tattered.
A loose strip of cloth trailed behind it, fluttering faintly.
From within the shadow of the hood—
Two faint golden eyes burned.
It moved silently.
Very unnaturally
A panel emerged
"Summon Detected
Tier: 2.0
Type: Humanoid"
For a second—
Silence…
…which slowly turned into…
erupting Laughter.
"Tier 2.0?!"
"A humanoid summon?!"
"That's basically useless!"
Some students burst out laughing.
Others shook their heads in disappointment.
Humanoid summons were often nothing more than glorified constructs—weak, predictable, and lacking true combat potential.
And this one…?
Barely even worth mentioning.
But horrifyingly—
Something changed.
Above Aaron's head—
A symbol began to form.
It spread outward like a fracture, branching into a chaotic web of cracks, as if reality itself had been damaged.
The laughter stopped.
"…What is that…?"
"…Wait…"
A voice rang out, filled with fear.
"A Soul Brand…!"
Everything went silent.
Those who had been laughing moments ago stiffened.
Some instinctively stepped back.
"…He has a Soul Brand?!"
"…Why is he even here…?"
"…That shouldn't be allowed to exist…"
The atmosphere turned heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
Because everyone knew.
A Soul Brand was not a gift.
It was a mark of calamity.
Long ago, there had been others.
Few.
Very few.
But all of them were remembered.
The most infamous, powerful and dreaded of them all—
Orix
A man who once bore a Soul Brand.
At first, nothing had seemed wrong.
But as his power grew…
So did the corruption.
He declared himself the King of Entities, rising against the world itself.
When the Divine Descent came, he did not stand with them—
He stood against them.
And with the power granted by his Soul Brand, he became something far worse than any enemy the world had faced before.
It took the Divine themselves to seal him away.
Even now—
His prison weakened.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
And his followers, fanatics, heretics…
Still waited in the shadows.
Searching
Watching
Lurking
Because of that history, one truth had been etched into the world:
Those who bore a Soul Brand could become powerful…
But if they fell to corruption—
They became disasters.
And history had shown one thing clearly—
The corrupted were always the most dangerous.
That was why it had become an unspoken rule.
A silent law.
Soul Branded individuals were to be eliminated.
Before it was too late.
The hostile gazes of the gathered students bore into Aaron from all sides.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough to drown out everything else as their voices blurred into a harsh, indistinct haze.
He couldn't focus.
Couldn't think.
Only feel.
Despair.
A second chance…
He had been given a second chance at life.
So why—
Why wasn't it enough?
His fingers trembled faintly.
Why is it still like this…?
No one looked at him with expectation.
No one believed in him.
The truth stood before him, cold and absolute.
No one wanted him.
I'm still weak…
A burning sting gathered at the corners of his eyes.
Tears threatened to fall.
But he forced them back.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
Not where they could see him break.
Lowering his head, he stepped down from the platform.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
His summon lingered for a brief moment at his side—
Silent.
Still.
Then, as if understanding his will, it faded away into nothingness.
Aaron returned to his place without looking up.
Without meeting a single gaze.
The ceremony continued.
Names were called.
Students stepped forward.
Power was revealed.
Some celebrated.
Others despaired.
But for Aaron—
It all passed in a blur.
Muted.
Distant.
As though he were no longer truly there.
Only one thing remained clear within him—
A suffocating weight pressing against his chest.
Pain.
Despair.
And the quiet, inescapable thought:
Nothing has changed.
—
A sharp sound echoed.
Snap.
Space twisted.
Folded.
The world bent in on itself—
And in the next instant, everything shifted.
They stood once more in the grand reception hall.
But this time—
They were no longer alone.
Dozens of figures filled the space.
Men and women clad in distinct attire, bearing emblems and insignias of power.
Guild representatives.
Some stood calmly, observing.
Others whispered among themselves.
A few stared intently at specific students.
High above, a large magical projection flickered and dimmed—
The very awakening ceremony they had just witnessed.
Meaning—
Everything had been seen.
Every success
Every failure.
Every weakness.
Every anomaly.
Even his classes—
Had been seen.
By everyone.
And yet…
They meant nothing.
They weren't recorded.
They didn't exist.
No one had ever seen a dual class like his before—
And so, to them, it was as if it held no value at all.
Like something… wrong.
Around him, people moved.
But not naturally.
It was like watching a sea of fish shifting in perfect instinct—
Flowing around him.
Avoiding him.
Keeping their distance.
As if he were a plague.
As if he carried something contagious.
A hollow space formed around him—
A bubble in water where nothing dared enter.
The meaning was clear.
Resentment.
Exclusion.
Disregard.
And beneath it all—
Hostility.
Aaron stood there in silence.
Hands slightly clenched.
Eyes lowered.
What could he even do…?
Nothing.
He couldn't change their thoughts.
Couldn't change what they saw.
Couldn't change what he was.
Nothing…
—
Then—
A voice.
Soft.
Close
Warm
Soothing,
Gentle enough to cut through the noise in his mind.
"I'll help you, Aaron… so please….don't fret."...