Soon enough, all the lights in the auditorium died, plunging everything into thick, oppressive darkness.
"Hah..."
I let out a quiet breath, leaning back in my seat. It was typical theatrics. Of course, they would want to milk the tension.
And then, right on cue with a zap sound, a single spotlight flickered to life, stabbing through the black and settling on the stage at the center.
It was completely overkill, but it definitely passed the vibe check.
Step! Step!
And then, with small, heavy steps, the vice-headmaster finally stepped onto the stage. Her blonde hair glowed brighter than ever as she walked with those serene eyes.
Her walk didn’t stop as she made her way to the podium.
"Students of the Imperial Academy. You stand here today not by chance, but by rit. Each of you has endured the harsh trials of the entrance exam and erged victorious. For that, you have my recognition.
But do not be so foolish as to think this single victory defines you. What awaits you beyond these doors is far more demanding than anything you have faced thus far.
Here, you will be tested not just in strength, but in will, in resolve, and in the conviction that drives you forward.
You have been chosen among thousands to beco candidates worthy of serving the Empire. Yet rember this: even among the chosen, only the truly exceptional rise.
Of the thousand gathered here, barely half will stand at the graduation ceremony. And among them, fewer still will leave a mark that history rembers.
You will forge bonds, make rivals, and perhaps discover truths about yourselves you never wished to see. So of you will break under the weight of expectation. So will thrive in it. And so... will do whatever it takes to stand at the top.
The path ahead will be cruel. It will demand sacrifice, cunning, and sotis, ruthless resolve. But for those who endure, for those who do not yield, the reward is beyond asure.
Welco... to the Imperial Academy."
Her words echoed throughout the auditorium as students all around took deep breaths.
So exchanged nervous glances, while others kept their gaze locked on Asha, as if drinking in every word.
And I... well, even I had to admit it. That speech had weight. Enough to shake the weak and stir sothing in the strong.
Then she continued.
"But today, we are here to announce the rankings of the entrance exam. The top ten, also known as the supernovas, will be announced here and now by . The rest of you can check your ranks later on the bulletin boards outside.
So... let’s begin."
The mont those words left her lips, I felt my heart pick up its pace.
Where would I place?
Logically, I was sure I’d make the top ten, unless I sohow managed to butcher the theory section beyond saving.
But what I really wanted to know was... where in the top ten?
’Probably sowhere near the bottom.’
I guessed while leaning back as Asha prepared to call out the nas.
And so, the announcent began.
"In tenth place, we have... Nathan Runebjorn. Please co up to the stage."
At those words, a mountain disguised as a student heaved himself up from the front row.
He had short orange hair as ssy as a haystack and a fat belly stretching his uniform. A perpetually sleepy look was plastered on his face as he shuffled toward the stage.
He was the best friend of Louie Starcrest.
The sa Louie who just happened to be the sworn rival of our oh-so-shining protagonist, Ray.
As soon as he reached the stage, a great round of applause resounded across the whole auditorium as the next na was announced.
"Ninth place, Jude Sterling."
Jude who? Now that was soone I had no idea about. He was probably so side character who had died off-screen in the original novel.
"Eighth place, Serena Nitingale."
Next was Serena, one of the female leads of the novel, whom I had t during the written exam.
She looked like she’d spent her whole life chained to a desk in so forgotten corner of the library—and probably had.
Wavy chestnut-brown hair cut in a ssy bob that brushed her shoulders, with a few stubborn strands falling into her eyes.
Those large, round glasses perched on her nose caught the light, revealing amber eyes half-hidden behind dark circles so deep you’d think sleep itself had given up on her.
She wore an oversized cream-colored turtleneck that made her look even smaller and softer. Yet there was sothing quietly stubborn in the way she walked to the stage, an ember of resolve that hadn’t quite burned out, no matter how tired she looked.
The applause for her was louder than it had been for anyone else.
"Next, Seventh place, Sebastian Solaryn"
At that, another student rose from the front row—slowly, as if he half-expected the world itself to stand and applaud first.
Sebastian was the picture of sculpted elegance: tall and lean, with sharp, aristocratic features that looked like they’d been carved from cold marble.
His hair was silky black, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, the kind of ticulous style that practically scread old money and older pride.
Gold-trimd cuffs peeked from beneath his perfectly pressed uniform.
There was a crest on it. A deep crimson crest of a coiling phoenix that marked him as the sole heir of House Solaryn, the Eastern Dukedom.
His gaze swept across the hall, eyes a piercing slate gray that held all the warmth of a winter sea.
And in that gaze, there was sothing almost amusing in its honesty—unfiltered disdain. The kind of haughty contempt that didn’t even bother to hide itself, because why pretend?
A true-blood supremacist through and through. Soone who saw commoners as furniture at best, filth at worst. He loathed them with a passion.
And judging by the faint smirk playing on his lips as he stepped onto the stage, Sebastian Solaryn was already imagining exactly how many of the "lesser-born" here he’d crush before graduation.
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