The world seemed to stand still as Nerion Ophirein stared at the faint blue screen floating in front of his eyes — cold, precise, and otherworldly. The moment every sixteen-year-old waited for had finally arrived.
His heart was still pounding, not from excitement, but from unease. He had felt the shift in his body the second the awakening pulse spread through his soul — but this… this wasn't what he expected.
The panel glowed brighter.
Nerion blinked. The words on the panel weren't some common swordsman or footsoldier class like others
Knight-General.
A title rarely seen, one usually reserved for veteran warlords, battlefield architects, and noble war leaders. Not for a boy who had never fought outside his family's estate.
But this wasn't a title it was a class , a unique class , one and only in this whole world….
The panel flickered again, unfolding more information:…..
A cold shiver ran through Nerion's spine as the pieces clicked. This class wasn't made for lone warriors or glory-seekers. This was the class of a leader — of one who shapes armies, not just wields weapons.
A general's class wasn't about personal strength. It was built for command, for soldiers, for war. And right now, he had none. His training under Caldus sharpened his mind enough to know the truth: this class was a long game.
No armies.
No influence.
No power base.
The system hadn't gifted him strength — it had exposed him. A rare class like this was a beacon. Word would spread. Those seeking talent, power, or easy prey would come. Staying would only drag his family into unnecessary danger.
He had one advantage: knowledge. Caldus had drilled tactics and survival into him for years. The class only confirmed what the old man already saw.
If he wanted to live, he had to leave. Build strength first — in people, not weapons. Alone, the class was weak. With others, it would shape him into something dangerous.
A general without an army was just another lost son.
And Nerion never planned to stay lost.
Nerion needed to get strong, stronger than ever, he only has a year left , he needed advice from a person he trusted the most , his grandfather, so that he could plan his future....
So he went...
(The shrine beneath the Ophirein manor was still.)
Only the flickering soul-crystals in the walls gave it life, their faint glow dancing across the carved marble knight entwined with serpents. Nerion stood before it, breath steady, body taut with new weight—his soul felt different now. Awake.
Behind him, the soft hum of a floating chair stirred the silence.
"You've awakened," came the rasp. Dry, brittle, but clear. Caldus.
Nerion ... "I have."
"Don't speak your class aloud. Not even to me."
"I trust you."
"It's not about trust. It's about survival. The Tower hears. And worse things listen behind it."
Nerion resisted the urge to press further. Instead, he bowed his head slightly. "Then tell me how to grow this. I don't want to stumble through it blind."
Caldus's ruined face tilted, and his tone grew heavy.
"You're not stumbling, boy. You're standing on the edge of a blade. And every path forward cuts."
He let the silence hang, before continuing.
"You've passed the first gate—but your trial hasn't even begun. The First Ascension Test awaits. The Level 0 Trial. You feel it, don't you?"
Nerion inhaled slowly. "Yes. Something… waiting."
"Good. That means your soul was marked properly. Every Awakened must face it. It's different for each of us—random, intimate, brutal. You get three tries. Fail all of them, and the Tower severs you. You lose everything. No do-overs. No sympathy."
Nerion's jaw clenched, but he nodded.
"What kind of test is it?"
"Could be a dream. A slaughter. A choice. It molds itself to your fears and truths. You'll learn more from that test than from ten years in the field."
A pause.
"And if I pass?"
"Then Level 1 becomes real. And your foundation begins."
Caldus's voice sharpened.
"You'll gain the ability to form Soul Circles and Circuits. They're not just for show. They are how power moves within you. How your class breathes, how your mana flows. Most Level 1s can only form ten at best, and those ten become the bones of your next tier. A poor foundation leads to a shattered future. Your brothers haven't taken the Level 2 test yet because they're still reinforcing theirs. Building deep. Smart."
Nerion's brow furrowed. "Is there a way to… grow stronger within a level?"
"There are two," Caldus said, his voice falling into a rhythm now—like a lecture passed down a thousand times. "One: raise your physical constitution. That means increasing your core stats—strength, dexterity, stamina, perception, and the like. An average man has a hard limit of 50 in each. A Level 1 Awakened? They can hit 200 each."
He leaned forward slightly, voice low.
"But you… you carry godblood. Your potential ceilings sit at 250. Don't waste them."
Nerion's pulse quickened. "And the second way?"
"Increasing your magical capacity. Mana handling. That means how much you can absorb, contain, release. It starts with meditation—but not the shallow kind. You'll need soul training, internal cultivation. You'll form pathways—veins of mana around your core. Those soul circuits… they grow only through pain and control."
"And this works the same for everyone?"
Caldus gave a bitter smile. "No. Each class is different. Each body reacts differently. Some train better through violence, others through silence. Yours—" he paused, "—yours will likely be unnatural. Expect the Tower to break you into shape."
Nerion exhaled. "So I need to build my body, build my soul, and survive a test that knows how to kill me. All at once."
"Exactly," Caldus rasped. "Welcome to the Tower's truth."
He fell silent, then added one final thought:
"When you pass this first test—and you will—things will become clearer. Your instincts will sharpen. But from that point on, everything you do etches your path forward. Your circles, your stat growth, your mana flow… that becomes your script. Written in blood."
"And remember," he said, voice like stone, "be cruel. Not to your kin. But to the world. Because it will devour the soft and praise the wicked."
Nerion looked down at his hands, new strength thrumming just beneath the skin.
He was no longer a boy.
Now… he had to prove he deserved to be more.
Nerion , "should I start my test now ?"
Your choice, i heard your parents are throwing a banquet for your achievements , you can join them"...said Caldus..
Nerion , "No need I will start the test and enter the tower , right now ( then he sat on the floor and open test window)…..