The Grand Assembly Hall of Celestia Academy could hold ten thousand people, and today, every single seat was filled.

  I stood near the back of the first-year section, trying my best to blend into the crowd. Not easy when you're wearing the only gray uniform in a sea of colors—bronze for D-ranks, silver for C-ranks, gold for B-ranks, and platinum for A-ranks. This rank marked their entire future inside the academy, and dictated how far they could get as a mage. My gray uniform however, marked me as "Unranked," a classification so rare that heads turned wherever I walked.

  Just ignore them, I told myself, feeling the stares.

  "Is that the Unranked kid?"

  "I heard he failed the evaluation so badly they couldn't even place him in D-rank."

  "No way, I heard he's some noble's son who paid to hide his rank because he's embarrassingly weak."

  The whispers weren't exactly quiet. I'd been hearing variations of these theories for the past three days since arriving at the academy. Some were almost creative in their assumptions.

  If only they knew.

  Before I could finish that thought, the air vibrated with magic, and the crowd went silent.

  A man walked onto the floating stage above us—tall, sharp, powerful enough to make the air feel heavier.

  Director Aldric Stormweaver stood at the podium, his silver hair and beard somehow making him look more imposing rather than old. He was one of the S-rank mages—a level most people only read about in history books.

  "Welcome to the 67th academic year of Celestia Academy" His voice carried a weight that made even the rowdiest students sit up straight.

  He ran through the standard speech about mastering the arcane, pushing boundaries, upholding the academy's legacy—words I'd heard a dozen variations of during orientation. But then something shifted in the crowd's energy.

  The sudden whispers drew my attention to the right side of the hall. Students were turning, whispering, some even standing on their toes to get a better look.

  "She's here!"

  "I didn't think she'd actually come to the assembly..."

  "That's her, right? One of the S-ranks?"

  I followed their gazes and spotted her immediately, not because she was trying to stand out, but because everyone else was making sure she did. A girl with striking silver-white hair that seemed to catch the magical lighting in an almost ethereal way walked down one of the aisles, seemingly unaware of or unbothered by the attention. She wore a uniform unlike anything I'd seen: pure white, the color reserved for a single, unique rank. She didn't have a badge, a star, or any marking. She didn't need one.

  Aurora. The S-rank Prodigy. The one who had earned her title through raw, unimaginable talent. She took her seat in the front row with fluid grace, and the assembly hall gradually settled down, though excited murmurs continued to buzz through the crowd.

  Then the energy shifted again—this time more dramatic, more deliberate. If Aurora's entrance was a ripple of reluctant magic, what happened next was a wave of sheer presence.

  The great doors at the opposite side of the hall swung open, and he entered. He stood tall and perfectly postured,his white uniform bore silver filigree shaped like a laurel crown across the shoulders, a symbol not of talent, but of destiny. His hair was the color of spun gold, and his eyes held the calm, unwavering authority of one born to rule.

  He, was Prince Aurelius, Crown Prince of the Empire, a second-year student, and the academy's other S-rank student. He didn’t just draw the attention of the crowd. It felt like he demanded it.

  "His Highness, Prince Aurelius!" someone exclaimed, their voice trembling with reverence.

  “Someone cast a cooling spell before I melt…” another voice, this one seemingly out of breath.

  "I thought he stopped coming to assemblies!"

  "He hasn't attended one in over a year. Why is he here now?"

  The whispers spread like wildfire, but I noticed something with his arrival—the subtle shift in Aurora's posture. Her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, and her jaw tightened as if she'd just realized she'd walked into a trap.

  He paid no attention to all the other students, No, his eyes were fixed on one person and one person only. Aurora. His gaze locked onto her with laser focus, his expression was an open challenge, a declaration written in the language of pride and ambition: This is how you make an entrance

  She, however, seemed to deliberately avoid looking at him. Her eyes were fixed forward, her head held up high, as if to say she would not be bothered by such petty challenges. She embodied indifference, which only seemed to make the Prince's jaw tighten slightly before he, too, took his seat.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The atmosphere was heavy, attention was divided between the two of them, which made me able to relax for the first time. No one was paying attention to me anymore.

  Director Aldric, perhaps used to this rivalry, waited until the last buzz had died down before clearing his throat once more, and when he spoke again, his tone had changed. The warmth from before had vanished, replaced by something cold and serious.

  “For months,” he began, his voice low but carrying to the farthest corners of the hall, “reports have filtered in from the outer provinces. The Blight—the corruption that is magic’s natural decay—has changed.”

  “The Blight has always been a manageable phenomenon, a creeping rot we contained and cleansed as part of our duty as mages. But in the past three months, its behavior has shifted. It is no longer creeping. It is advancing. It is growing faster, more aggressive, and more intelligent than any record in our archives.”

  He paused, letting the grim reality sink in. A magical projection appearing behind him, showing tendrils of purple corruption snaking their way through forests and mountains, ominously close to the outer walls of the academy.

  “It does not simply corrupt the land anymore. It twists living things, creates abominations we have no name for, and it is now within a week’s march of our outer gates. We believe this to be the work of a sentient creature, however, we lack any information about what it is, or what could be its goals.”

  The fear in the room was palpable, no one dared speak, it looked like everyone was holding their breaths, waiting.

  “I have consulted with the Council,” Director Stormweaver declared. “And we have agreed that the threat must be neutralized at its source before it breaches the wards of this academy. We cannot rely solely on the standing army. The nature of this new Corruption requires the kind of raw, focused magical power only a trained mage can wield.”

  "Therefore, we will send an expeditionary force, composed of our most promising students to investigate the source of this corruption and, if possible, neutralize it. This will be dangerous. This will be real. Your instructors will be identifying candidates over the next few weeks based on skill, aptitude, and combat readiness."

  In the front row, I saw Aurora's expression remain perfectly neutral, her silver-white hair catching the light as she gave a single, slight nod. Of course she would go. It was her duty, her responsibility as an S-rank. There was no pride in her acknowledgment, no excitement—just the calm acceptance of someone who understood what power demanded of its wielder.

  Prince Aurelius, by contrast, leaned forward in his seat, and even from this distance, I could see the gleam in his eyes. His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but held all the sharp edges of anticipation. This was what he'd been waiting for—a real threat, a true test, a chance to prove himself against something that actually mattered. His hand rested on the armrest of his chair, fingers tapping once, twice, in barely contained eagerness.

  Before Director Aldric could continue, Prince Aurelius rose from his seat with fluid grace, his white uniform catching the light as all eyes in the hall turned to him.

  “Director Stormweaver.” His voice rang out clear and confident, carrying the natural authority of one born to command. "If I may."

  The director opened his mouth to give a response, but was promptly cut off by Aurelius, who did not wait for permission.

  "This threat faces not only the academy but the empire itself," he declared, his golden eyes sweeping across the assembly. "As Crown Prince and as an S-rank mage, I formally volunteer to lead this expeditionary force. It is both my duty to my people and my responsibility as one of the academy's strongest."

  A wave of excited whispers rippled through the crowd. Several students looked ready to applaud. Of course he would do it. Of course he would seize the spotlight the moment a threat worthy of him appeared.

  Aurora's expression remained unchanged, her gaze fixed forward as if the Prince's declaration were no more interesting than a passing cloud.

  “Your Highness,” the Director responded, his tone respectful yet maintaining professional distance. “Your readiness to step forward in the Empire’s hour of need is both admirable and expected of one of your caliber. Your qualifications, naturally, place you at the forefront of the selection process.”

  He paused for a moment, making sure each word he spoke was the correct one.

  “The final command structure of the Expeditionary Force will be determined by the instructors and myself after a thorough evaluation of all nominated candidates and the strategic needs of the mission. Rest assured, the highest ranks of this academy—including yours, Prince Aurelius—will bear the greatest responsibility.”

  This seemed to be enough for the Prince, who nodded sharply, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. He accepted the Director’s response as the political inevitability it was, knowing his offer was now public and his claim on the command was solid. He sat back down, radiating quiet confidence.

  "Beyond this matter” The director continued, silencing the crowd once again. “standard announcements apply. Class schedules have been posted in your dormitories. The library's restricted section will remain restricted. And finally, remember why you are here. You are not just students. You are the future of magic itself. What you learn within these walls, what you become, will shape the world for generations to come."

  He placed both hands on the podium.

  "Make it count. Dismissed."

  The hall erupted into motion and noise, almost everyone standing up to leave, but I remained still, staring at those projections that still lingered above the stage. The spreading darkness. The approaching threat.

  Students began filing out of their rows around me, the buzz of anxious conversation filling the space, but I stayed rooted to my spot, lost in thought. 3 months ago… I didn’t move toward the exit yet. Instead, I let my eyes wander lazily over the departing students, pretending I wasn’t stalling.

  That’s when my eyes met hers. Across the thinning hall, Aurora’s gaze was resting on me. She hadn't moved from her seat, her posture still perfectly composed. But her head was tilted ever so slightly as if I were a puzzle she couldn't quite solve

  The moment lasted only a second, but it was a second too long.

  Prince Aurelius, who had been preparing to make his own grand exit, noticed the subtle shift in her attention. His brilliant, calculating eyes flicked from her face to follow her line of sight, and they landed squarely on me. His initial, mild curiosity at her distraction quickly hardened into a more intense, almost possessive scrutiny. Why would Aurora, who embodied indifference to all but the most significant arcane matters, spare a glance for an Unranked, a veritable ghost in the system?

  Time to go. I thought, breaking eye contact and rising to my feet in a rush and almost tripping on my way to the exit.

  I did not look back. Merging into a group of chattering D-rank students who were too busy discussing the Corruption announcement to notice an extra body in their midst. I kept my pace casual but purposeful, just another student eager to leave the assembly.