There were five different classes in the academy.

The Celestial Class

The Noble Class

The Scholar Class

The Foundation Class and the Provisional Class.

These classes were not only the approved tier system that acknowledged the existence and lovely treatment of inequality. It was also proof that the Golden Jade Academy openly acknowledged political reality. Students were sorted by capability, bloodline, wealth, and political importance and this served as a harsh reminder that even in a place of supposed harmony, power mattered.

After checking the results, eight hundred were admitted into the Golden Jade Academy out of the two thousand applicants that participated in the Entrance Examination. Of that eight hundred, only forty were qualified to be in the Celestial Class.

Of those forty, it was very certain that the twelve descendants of the great clans, whether direct bloodlines or extended, were going to be there. And there were also going to be kids from Weaver Houses. The Golden Jade Grand Academy was usually that perfect place where these future leaders made friendships and bonds that usually evolved into alliances and brotherhood in the future.

Of course, this was also the same for animosity and hatred shared.

I'll search the project knowledge to understand Kage's character and the world better before continuing this scene.

Kage walked through the corridor of the Hall of Seven Pillars, his footsteps making no sound against the polished jade floors. The architecture spoke of wealth and power—vaulted ceilings inlaid with gold leaf, walls carved with scenes from the Harmony Wars, and massive windows that filtered sunlight into beams of liquid amber.

Ahead of him, clusters of students moved in groups, their voices carrying the unmistakable cadence of privilege and breeding. Some wore the colors of Great Clans—crimson and gold, silver and jade, storm-grey and obsidian. Others bore the more modest but still respectable emblems of Weaver Houses and Minor Clans.

All forty members of the Celestial Class.

The future rulers, masters, and legends of the world.

Kage's violet eyes swept across them with the same mild interest one might give to clouds drifting across the sky. His expression remained pleasant, composed—the face of a gentle scholar who had somehow stumbled into a den of dragons.

"Did you see the Ironstorm twins? Bai Shen's aura alone made my hands shake."

"Forget him—Lady Celestine Moonshadow is here. They say she bonded with a Pure Armament at thirteen."

"What? That's exaggerated!"

"What about that Dragon Immortal's disciple? Ravi something?"

Conversations died as Kage passed.

Not from fear. They simply died as people turned their heads and either wondered who was passing or guessed who it was. .

It was subtle. A pause mid-sentence. A glance that lingered half a second too long before sliding away. The instinctive awareness of prey animals when something apex enters their territory, even if they don't understand why their instincts are screaming.

He didn't look at them. Didn't acknowledge the sudden quiet that followed in his wake like a shadow. His robes—simple black with violet trim, understated to the point of poverty compared to the elaborate silks around him—whispered against the stone as he moved.

A girl with golden eyes and sunburst-colored hair started to approach him, her smile bright and welcoming. "Hello! You must be—"

Kage walked past her as if she were furniture.

The smile froze on her face.

The main hall opened before them—a circular chamber with seven towering statues representing the Seven Heroes of the Harmony Wars. Forty desks arranged in concentric rings, each positioned according to some invisible hierarchy. The center seats, naturally, would go to those of Great Clan lineage.

Kage chose a seat in the second ring. Not too forward, not too back.

Utterly unremarkable positioning.

Except that the seat was directly between where two Great Clan heirs had clearly intended to sit, based on their belongings already placed there. Not intruding on their space, exactly. Just... occupying a position that forced everyone else to readjust their mental map of the room's power structure.

"Excuse me," said a sharp-featured boy with noble bearing—likely from a Weaver House. "That seat is—"

"Available," Kage said mildly, not looking up as he arranged his writing materials with methodical precision.

The boy opened his mouth. Closed it. Something in Kage's polite, empty tone made finishing the sentence feel... dangerous. Not because of any threat. But because acknowledging the transgression would force him to act, and something about this black-robed boy with violet eyes suggested that acting against him would be a very, very bad decision.

The boy retreated.

One by one, the students settled into their seats, unconsciously adjusting their positions to orbit around Kage rather than the Great Clan heirs. None of them noticed they were doing it.

The hall's grand doors closed with a resonant boom and silence soaked the chamber.

Footsteps echoed from the instructor's entrance—measured, unhurried, carrying the weight of someone who had walked these halls a thousand times before.

The man who entered looked like someone had taken the concept of "scholarly authority" and given it human form.

Tall, lean frame dressed in instructor's robes of deep indigo trimmed with silver. Wire-rimmed glasses that caught the light in ways that made his eyes unreadable. Dark hair streaked with premature grey, pulled back in a neat tail. His face was sharp, intelligent, marked with the kind of subtle lines that came from years of reading late into the night and thinking even later.

Professor Akira Gensai. Head of Celestial Class instruction. Former prodigy of the Scholar's Tower. Youngest master of Resonance Theory in academy history.

He walked to the center of the chamber, placed a leather satchel on the instructor's desk, and let his gaze sweep across the forty students with the same clinical precision a surgeon might use to examine a patient.

"Welcome to the Golden Jade Grand Academy," he said. His voice was neither warm nor cold—simply precise, each word articulated with the care of someone who understood that language was a tool that could build or destroy. "You have passed the Seven-Day Crucible. Eight hundred began the trials. You forty now sit in the Celestial Class—the highest tier of this institution."

He paused, adjusting his glasses.

"Do not mistake this for praise. Your presence here indicates potential, not achievement. Bloodline, not merit. Political value, not personal worth." He gave the class a thin smile. "In short: you are here because the world has decided you matter. What you do with that judgment will determine whether the world was correct."

Several students shifted uncomfortably. Celestial Class students were used to being told they were exceptional. They were not used to being told they were merely... convenient.

Professor Gensai pulled a scroll from his satchel and unrolled it with a practiced flick of his wrist.

"The Academy operates on a simple structure. Seven Colleges, corresponding to the Seven Harmonious Arts that won the Harmony Wars and established civilization in the Mistral Archipelago."

He began marking symbols in the air with Qi-infused chalk, each character hanging luminous and perfect:

"The College of Blades — Combat, warfare, and martial cultivation. Dean Takeshi Kurogane will see to it that you learn to kill efficiently, if you prove capable.

The College of Creation — Artisanship, forging, enchantment. Craft-Master Vanessa Emberforge will determine if you can create something worth more than your bloodline.

The College of Command — Leadership, strategy, governance. Lord-Commander Alexandros Dawnwind will teach you to lead... or reveal that you're only fit to follow.

The College of Healing Arts — Medicine, restoration, life preservation. Physician-Priestess Amara Spring will show you how to mend what others break.

The College of Heaven's Gaze — Scholarship, history, theory. My domain. Where you will learn to think, or expose that you cannot.

The College of Verse — Weaving, and poetry. Dean Shen Qingwei and Lady Eastwind will teach you about the power that builds its foundation in mind and will.

The College of Spirit — Spiritual practice, meditation, inner cultivation and philosophy. Overseen by the Council of Monks. Where you face yourself, which most of you will find more terrifying than any Impure."

The characters blazed in the air for a moment before dissolving like morning mist.

"You will rotate through all seven Colleges in your first year. Sampling, as it were. By year's end, you will declare your primary path—though you'll continue basic instruction in all seven throughout your tenure here."

Professor Gensai's gaze sharpened.

"Now. The uncomfortable truths you should understand immediately:

One. The class system is not merely academic. It determines your housing, your resource allocation, your access to restricted sections of the library, and which instructors will invest time in your development. Celestial Class receives the best. This is not fair. It is simply fact.

Two. However, you may fall. The Great Reclassification occurs at year's end. Performance, conduct, and potential determine whether you remain Celestial or drop to Noble, Scholar, or—ancestors forbid—Foundation. Yes, even those of you from Great Clans can fall. It has happened before."

An air of uncomfortable silence spread across the hall.

"Three. This Academy sits on Shenlonford Island for reasons beyond convenient geography. There are... phenomena... that occur here. Strange occurrences tied to the island's history, it is for these reasons that they are curfew and other security measures. You may witness things that defy explanation. When this happens, report immediately to faculty or the Disciplinary committee. Do not investigate on your own. Students who ignore this advice tend to disappear."

His expression didn't change, but something in his tone suggested he was not being metaphorical. He folded his hands behind his back.

"Four. You are not children anymore. This Academy will not coddle you. You will be injured in combat training. You will fail assignments. You will discover that skills you thought mastered are laughably inadequate. This is intentional. Growth occurs at the breaking point. We intend to break you, then teach you to reassemble yourselves into something stronger."

Professor Gensai pulled out a stack of papers from his satchel, each page sealed with crimson wax bearing the Academy's crest.

"These are your schedules. Classes begin at dawn tomorrow. First session: Combat evaluation in the College of Blades. Sensei Kurogane likes to establish baseline competence immediately. I suggest you take today to familiarize yourself with the academy grounds and rest well." That thin smile again. "Though most of you won't."

With a gesture, the papers lifted on currents of Qi and floated to each student's desk, settling with precise accuracy.

"Oh. And one more thing."

His eyes swept across the forty faces, lingering for just a fraction longer on Kage's impassive features.

"Every year, one or two students in Celestial Class believe themselves above the Academy's rules. They believe their bloodline or political connections make them untouchable." Professor Gensai's smile vanished entirely. "They are wrong. The last Great Clan heir who thought himself exempt from Academy law is currently mining Moon Metal in the southern archipelago. His family did not object. Remember this when temptation strikes."

With that, he left the chamber, robes trailing behind him like shadows.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Then, gradually, conversations began—nervous energy released as students processed what they'd just heard, comparing schedules, establishing social hierarchies through careful verbal sparring.

Kage stood, tucked his schedule into his sleeve without reading it, and walked toward the exit.

"Hey," someone called. One of the Great Clan heirs, by the looks of his crimson and gold robes. "You're that Ironstorm bastard, aren't you? The talentless one?"

Kage paused and turned.

He looked at the boy with those violet eyes that held absolutely nothing behind them. No anger. No pride. No shame.

He just... looked.

The boy's next words died in his throat.

After a moment, Kage turned back toward the door and continued walking, leaving behind a silence that felt distinctly different from the one before—heavier, colder, like the air pressure dropping before a storm.

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