Chapter 2
The sun rose gently over the horizon, its rays piercing through the curtains of a small but tidy room. On the single bed, a young man lay awake, staring blankly at the ceiling above. His face was calm, serene even—but within, a storm of anxiety churned.
Today was the day.
The set date for awakening across the Northern Continent. Each continent had its own unique schedule, and today, fate would descend upon countless hopefuls. Han Trystan hadn't slept all night. Not out of fear, but out of burden. He was Serenya's last hope.
He rose from bed, washed up, and moved swiftly through his morning routine. The scent of eggs and toast filled the air as he cooked breakfast for his siblings. But as he called out to them, the silence that answered was strange. No footsteps. No groggy replies. No sound at all.
A strange feeling tugged at his gut, but brushing it off, he donned his deep blue long sweater jacket, zipped it up, and stepped outside. The streets of Serenya were unusually empty—eerily so.
Where is everyone?
Then, just before the city exit, he saw them—all of them.
The entire town had gathered.
Cheers erupted. Flags waved. Tears glistened in old eyes. Children held banners. A woman wept silently into her shawl.
"We wish you luck, young master!"
"Come back stronger!"
"Return a hero!"
"Big brother!" a small voice broke through the crowd—Xin, his little sister, her arms raised high with joy. "Come back as the greatest hero ever!"
Han smiled faintly and waved, heart pounding as a sleek car pulled up. He stepped in, and as the vehicle rolled away, his eyes never left his people. I'll change this city. I swear it.
---
Three Hours Later – Outskirts of Central City
The journey from the low-tier Serenya to the high-tier Central City was not long by distance, but worlds apart in status. Just as they neared the majestic gates, a sudden halt disrupted the flow. Traffic.
A portal had appeared.
Green in hue.
Green-class portals were dangerous, requiring C-class or B-class heroes to seal. If left unchecked, these rifts spewed chaos, beasts, and destruction into the world.
As the crowd murmured in nervous tones, a hush fell over them. A figure descended from the sky—silver hair glimmering under the sunlight, a pair of gleaming wings folded behind his back then retracted into his body.
"Silver Wing…" someone whispered in awe.
Silver Wing, Guild Master of the prestigious Silver Guild.Class A Hero, Rank 8. His mere presence exuded authority.
The guards at the portal bowed low.
"Would you like to clear it, sir?"
He nodded once. No words. Just action.
Without flair or delay, he entered the portal—and moments later, stepped back out. The green light flickered and vanished. Portal sealed. No roar. No struggle.
Just silence... and respect.
Before anyone could offer gratitude, he took flight once more, vanishing into the skies like a shooting star.
Han's fingers clenched lightly.
That's the kind of power I need…
--
At the Awakening Hall
The Awakening Hall was grand—almost city-sized. Thousands had gathered. People from all walks of life lined up, chatting nervously, pacing, praying.
Guild agents in sharp suits scouted the crowd, closing in on those who had just awakened. C-rank and B-rank skills earned instant recruitment. A-rank? Treated like divine treasure. D-rank, if potent, would be considered. E-rank?
Not even worth a glance.
Han sat quietly in the waiting room, flipping through his comic book Metal Burst Man. At his side, a spiky-haired young man with yellow hair kept leaning over.
"Just let me borrow it, man!"
"Nope."
"Tch." The young man huffed and walked away.
"Stand up. I want that seat," said a bulky teen with unbridled arrogance —a newly awakened D-rank skill user.
Han didn't even glance up. His gaze remained locked on his comic.
The boy's brow twitched in irritation. "You deaf, or just dumb? I said move it, brat."
Still, no response. Just the soft flip of another page turning.
Whispers spread through the room. The flaming glove user was known as someone quick to flaunt his new powers. He'd already bullied a few waiting people into giving up their seats. Now he thought Han would be an easy target.
"You're gonna regret that," the boy snarled, drawing back his fist. With a burst, he launched a punch straight at Han's head.
In a flash, Han tilted his head to the side, dodging effortlessly. Another punch came. Again, he leaned back slightly, eyes still on the comic, dodging as if it were a breeze swaying a branch.
Laughter erupted from the onlookers. "Yo! He's dancing around that dude without even trying!"
Humiliated, the hot-headed teen gritted his teeth. Flames surged from his gloves. "You little—!"
He activated his skill—Flame Fist—causing his fists to ignite in crackling fire.
Han finally closed his comic with a sigh, standing up with calm precision. He dusted off the back cover and glanced at the teen, expressionless.
"Don't burn my book. It's the only copy I've got."
He then took a strange fighting stance.
"1st Jungle Art: Wolf Clutch."
In a blur, Han caught the attacker's wrist, twisted it, swept his legs, and slammed him into the ground with bone-rattling force.The man gasped, knocked out cold.
Stunned silence.
A low murmur spread like wildfire.
"He hasn't awakened yet…"
"That was… insane."
"He took down an awakener…?"
At the side of the hall, Silver Wing watched, arms crossed.
"Interesting," he muttered.
Han returned to his seat, calmly picked up his comic, and resumed reading as if nothing had happened.
From the far side of the hall, a yellow haired boy holding a comic book stared at Han with widened eyes—holding a copy of Metal Burst Man in his hands.
Wait… I stole the comic from him. Did he have another copy?
---
Moments Later
An uproar erupted. A youth had just awakened a B-rank skill—Hyper Jump. The guild agents swarmed in, offering contracts like vultures with golden wings.
"His name's Argon Tank!"
"He was the first to awaken a B rank skill today"
"He's got potential!"
But even amidst that, the crowd buzzed louder when the next youth's skill lit the screen:
Skill Rank: A
Skill: Phantom Echo
Gasps. Applause. Cameras flashed.
Gasps and murmurs rippled across the hall. Guild scouts leapt from their seats, scrambling to get to the boy. One of the recruiters from the Crimson guild tripped over a chair in their rush. The moment was chaos.
But amidst all the attention, one name was finally called.
"Next—Han Trystan."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Eyes turned. The excitement quieted to anticipation.
Han closed his comic softly, stood up, and walked toward the testing room with the grace of someone heading to a casual stroll.
Inside, the chamber glowed faintly blue. A monolithic machine stood in the middle, humming with quiet power. At the center was a scanner—a glowing handprint embedded on polished obsidian.
Han stepped forward, exhale slightly, "this is it," he thought, then slip his hand into the mold.
Outside, Silver Wing leaned closer to the observation window, arms crossed.
"I hope you awaken something powerful," he whispered. "For someone who can beat an awakener without even having a skill... you're more than just lucky."
Around the arena, people who had seen Han fight earlier were holding their breath.
He has to awaken at least a B-rank.
Maybe an A-rank. Could he even be... S-rank?
No way... S-ranks are just legends.
Inside the room, the machine began to pulse.
Energy swept over Han like a wave. It felt like ice and fire at once—like his very soul was being inspected, measured, weighed.
Lines of text scrolled across the monitor, changing too fast to read.
Then, stillness.
Few lines remained.
Han Trystan
Skill Rank: E
Skill: Book Formation
The silence was absolute.
To be continued.