Xavier's class, which was called Killing Techniques, primarily taught students how to kill other people efficiently. His class lasted for three long hours. Zeke tried his best to keep up, but the lack of knowledge of previous materials made supposedly obvious terms foreign to him.
Ring!
When the bell rang outside, the class finally ended.
Everyone snapped out of their daze, realizing that class had ended. Xavier was many things. Terrifying, but not a bad teacher in the slightest. He was feared but also respected because of his teaching ability.
Xavier looked at Zeke. "Follow me to the dean's office."
After saying that, he left the room without waiting for him to respond.
Zeke nodded quietly and stood up from his chair. When he stood up, everyone looked at him, openly admiring his appearance. He maintained a calm expression as he walked out of the room.
He quickly caught up with Xavier. Thankfully, this time the man wasn't in a rush. But since it was the end of the first class, every student stood outside on the hallway, and their attentions quickly turned to the student following behind the Steel Reaper.
Every time their gaze fell on him, Zeke felt a sense of discomfort. Whispers echoed in the hallway, and paired with their invasive gaze, his skin crawled. He bit his lips, steadied his gaze, and composed himself.
Being in the spotlight wasn't anything new to him, but now every time he felt someone look at him, his heart would race with nervousness. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly bumped into Xavier's back, snapping out of his daze.
Bump.
Xavier suddnely turned around, bearing a deep frown on his face.
"We're here."
"...!"
Zeke quickly stepped back, realizing that they had arrived at Dean Pooler's office.
Xavier didn't hesitate to open the door, revealing Dean Pooler, who seemed to have never moved from his seat since the last time they came inside.
When the door opened, Dean Pooler raised his head, seeing Xavier and Zeke. He raised his brows and smiled, "Professor Xavier. Student Crimson, you're back."
Zeke nodded slightly, regaining his composure. His heart eased from Dean Pooler's voice, giving a sense of comfort and tranquility. He looked at Dean Pooler with brief hesitation and bowed respectfully.
He didn't know customs in Red Land, but he knew respect was universal.
"Since you're back, you should be ready to take your echoforce exam," Dean Pooler said, eliciting a hesitant nod from Zeke. He laughed. "Don't worry, it's not going to be painful or hard."
Zeke knew that, but what he wanted to ask was something else. He asked hesitantly, "Do I need to tell you my class?"
"Huh?" Dean Pooler widened his eyes slightly. But seeing Zeke's concern was genuine, he nodded. "Well, yes."
Zeke's expression sank slightly.
"Dean Pooler, be clear with your words." Professor Xavier shook his head and spoke from the side, "Crimson, you just have to tell the quality. Nobody is going to tell their real class, and the academy doesn't require it either."
Now it was Zeke's turn to be surprised. "Just the quality?"
"Obviously," Xavier looked at Zeke as if he was stupid. "Have you learned nothing from my class? A class is a Ranker's core ability. If you carelessly expose your core, you're just letting others think of ways to kill you."
Although he was right, Zeke couldn't help but frown. That was… a good point. But back in Magic City, it was law for everyone to list their class in full detail. He didn't know Red Land was the opposite.
Keeping his doubts to himself, Zeke looked at the dean. "Alright, I'm ready."
Dean Pooler nodded and spoke. "An echoforce exam consists of tests that measure your physical and spiritual capabilities. We'll measure your striking force with a Force Measuring Device."
Before Zeke could say anything, Dean Pooler pointed his hand to a device on the side, one that was almost as tall as an adult man. He made it float effortlessly and put it right in front of Zeke.
Dean Pooler nodded, "Go on. Just strike with everything you have."
Zeke wasn't in a rush. He looked at the Force Measuring Device for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. Then, he took a step back, assuming a stance. His posture made the two men raise their brows.
'He knows how to throw a punch…'
Xavier thought as he watched. Just from Zeke's movements alone, it was clear to him that the kid was trained in combat.
Bam!
Zeke's brows creased, and he threw a hook, giving everything he had. A loud sound echoed in the Force Measuring Device, and the two men watched the device carefully.
The Force Measuring Device measured a person's striking force in kilograms. But when a number immediately appeared on the interface and didn't show any signs of increasing, confusion spread across their faces.
It surpassed their expectations. But not in the way they had expected.
"..."
Dean Pooler and Xavier quietly exchanged glances.
500 kg.
Zeke stared at the Force Measuring Device, seeing the number on the interface. He took a deep breath, lowering his head slightly. He couldn't bear to raise his head to look at Dean Pooler's reaction. He understood his results more than anyone else.
When a person awakened their class, their physical or spiritual abilities would be boosted based on the quality and nature of their class.
A striking force of 500 kilograms… was the lowest threshold to be a Ranker. That meant that Zeke's class was either gray-quality or more focused on the spirit, but Zeke knew which one it was.
Dean Pooler calmly pointed at another device in the room. He made it float in front of Zeke. "Hold this and concentrate your mind."
He added, "This is a Spirit Measuring Device. It tests your spiritforce."
Zeke did as he was told. He held the Spirit Measure Device, a colorless orb with the size of a human fist. The orb elicited an uncomfortable feeling in his heart, but he still held it and concentrated his mind.
A moment later, the orb shone with a pale light. A number appeared on the Spirit Measuring Device.
0 Spiritforce.
Zeke opened his eyes and looked at the orb, already prepared for the result.
0 Spiritforce wasn't inherently bad. It just means that one didn't have a class related to magic or any spiritual abilities.
But when one factored in his abysmal striking force, it was obvious that Zeke didn't have a speck of talent.
"Dodge this," Dean Pooler suddenly said. He flicked his finger, sending a quiet wind slash to Zeke.
Woosh!
Zeke was taken aback, but his trained senses quickly reacted. He ducked, barely able to dodge the sharp wind blast by a hair's breadth.
But Dean Pooler was silent, his amicable and kind expression turning into a deep frown. He stared at Zeke as he stated, "... 17 m/s."
The room was utterly silent.
500 kilograms, 0 spiritforce, and 17 m/s.
Combining all those results, it was a measly 10 Echoforce. The basemark for 10 Echoforce was exactly the same, only Zeke's speed was slightly better than the 15 m/s threshold.
Echoforce was the measurement of a ranker's overall strength, combining their striking force, spiritual power, and speed. Rankers were divided by ranks, which were based on how much echoforce they possessed.
There were 9 ranks in total, and each rank was further divided into 9 subranks. Starting from 1.1 to 1.9, then 2.1 to 2.9, and so on, until reaching 9.9.
10 Echoforce was the lowest threshold for a person to qualify as a ranker. In fact, this kind of echoforce was usually seen only in people that awakened a life class, ones unsuited for combat.
The Herta Academy of Rankers had long stopped accepting people with such classes.
Seeing Dean Pooler's sudden change of expression, Zeke's heart skipped a beat. His expression hardened, and he immediately bowed. "… I know that I'm not talented. But I still want to learn in the academy and be a ranker."
Afraid his sincerity wouldn't be enough, he added, "I will do anything for this opportunity. I beg of you. Please!"
Dean Pooler was silent, tapping the desk rhythmically.
Zeke waited with a bated breath. He had never begged in his entire life, nor even uttered the word please. His pride as a Starlight would never allow him to do so. But right now… he wasn't a Starlight, was he?
If it was for survival, he would throw away that pride like the trash it was.
Truthfully, he even surprised himself when the words came so naturally to him, flowing out of his mouth like an actor that rehearsed their lines.It was true that when men were at their wits' end, their so-called pride was like a porcelain vase, deceptively hard but exceptionally fragile.
Very few could truly maintain their pride, and those people who could were individuals who earned their pride in their life. But Zeke was someone whose pride came from being born in a better family than others.
After a while, Dean Pooler sighed and stated his decision.