Chapter 17: Class Trial

Chapter 17: Class Trial

Approximately eight million people dwelt within the reinforced walls of Seynhold, with a good part of the population being ascendants. Being a Tier-5 city, Seynhold sported a vast expanse of land, all crammed with magnificent columns and edifices, akin to the pre-Victorian era, though with a more brutalist touch to the more grand structures.

At least, the area Ember and his family lived in was proportionally vacant.

Well, Blackstone was a prestigious clan of Knights. They could not be compared to the three Bloodline Clans of Oberon, Renin, or Killjoy, but over the years, House Blackstone had completed various meritorious deeds, granting them a rich plot of land on which to build their clan. There were definitely busier and more crammed streets only blocks away from the main house.

Now, eight million might seem a lot for a single city, but when one considered all the other people who lived just outside the walls in various towns and outposts, their number could very well be ten times higher. Give or take, there were about 100 million people whose lives were dependent on the city.

Every year, there were hundreds of thousands of people who went through their class ascension, be it inside or outside the walls. Among those hundreds of thousands, only a mere six hundred got to enter the Trial. Of that number, about 500 of those spots were distributed to the bloodline and noble clans. The rest were selected from the common folk.

It was how the rich stayed richer, and the powerful clans maintained the status quo. Ember wanted to complain, though he did not know how to feel about that when his own family was benefiting from it.

House Blackstone had received eight slots this year, four from House Oberon and four they received through serving Seynhold. Rain got one of those slots, and rightly so, given her standing in the younger generation of the clan.

These class trials were essential for anyone who had any hopes of gaining the more prestigious classes. Of course, there were chances of getting a good class outside the trial if one’s race and mana foundation were adequate, but distinguishing oneself in the trials would always provide a better result.

His mother did not get the chance in her time, only getting the Cook class once she turned fourteen. His father, on the other hand, had been one of the champions of his trial. Now it was time for his sister.

Rain was prepared in her new knightly armour, a fine sword sheathed on her back, with a handful of knives and other essential supplies latched to her waist. She carried a good number of mana recovery potions, as well as healing potions, despite having self-healing capability. One never knew the situation the trial would present.

“Nervous?” Cliff asked, after double-checking her supplies.

Rain nodded. “A little.”

Her expression said it was more than a little.

“I’m sure you will do fine,” Cliff said, slapping her reassuringly on the shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You can easily get a good class by completing the first layer.”

“But it wouldn’t be as good as yours.”

“No, but there’s always a chance to evolve them into a higher form later,” he paused, examining her face. “Listen, you do not have to be burdened by any of it. Only decide to enter the second layer if you have the confidence in clearing it.”

“But you have paid so much to get me into the trials.”

The knight shook his head. “With your skills and foundations, you deserve a spot. Don’t sell yourself short. There are far worse candidates out there who have no skill to be there, you’ll see once you’re there.”

As Rain prepared to leave, Rossana hugged her, tears rolling from the corners of her eyes.

“We have a good life here,” Cliff reassured. “There is no need for you to risk your life to claim honour for us. We will be doing fine if you come out alive and well.”

“What your father said,” she conceded, her voice breaking. “Don’t try too much. So long as you can come out alive, it’s fine.”

“I will.” Rain nodded her head.

“Good luck,” Ember cheered, as she hugged him before embarking towards the grand hall.

Hundreds of participants were already pouring in, lined up in the hall, waiting for the Master of Rites to commence the trial.

“Dad,” Ember asked, “are the trials really hard?”

“They can be,” Cliff said, still looking at the fading figure of his daughter. “For most, the first layer tends to be easy. There’s no failure there. Even if one dies, they get a lifeline there. It is from the second layer that the trouble begins. They tend to be more unconventional and unpredictable. And it doesn’t help that people can actually die there.”

Only then did a thrum of fear for Rain crawl into his chest.

“But of course, one can quit in the middle of it, if they find they aren’t up to it.”

“But you have completed the second layer,” Ember said. It was only how he got an Iron-grade class as his starter class.

The father turned to him and smiled. “Well, Rain has a chance to complete it too.”

As the city bell rang at ten o’clock, the Master of Rites presented himself at the exact time. The city had a few prestigious positions. There was the Saint, who had the utmost authority over the city, and assisting him were the Judge, the Vanguard, the Guardian, and the Master of Rites. Each of them was a Gold-class ascendant with their respective area of command.

The Master of Rites was a wizened old man with long grey hair and a long beard hanging over his torso. Even with his rank and levels, the centuries he had lived were evident in each of the coarse wrinkles on his face. Other than being in charge of the Seynhold Academy, he had absolute authority over the class trials, as only he could open the Warpgate to the trial realms.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Being a man of patience, he lectured for a good few minutes, his voice broadcasting throughout the city. Then he carried on with announcing the names of the six hundred young ascendants partaking in the trial, before finally opening the trial gate.

Ember would have liked to at least see the portal that would take the participants into another realm of existence. Unfortunately, only the participants were allowed inside.

Ember had to wait for his turn. For today, he and his family would have to wait outside. There were people from all around Seynhold, families of the participants awaiting their sons and daughters to come out.

He had thought they would have to wait for long, and yet not even a quarter of an hour had passed when a few dispirited figures came out from the hall. As if their disgruntlement were not enough, the elders of their families already began to stammer curses and thunderous rebukes at their failure.

“It’s barely ten minutes,” Ember cried. “How have they already failed?”

Yes, there was no failure in the first layer, but what distinguished deeds of merit could they have accomplished in that little time?

“It might not be barely ten minutes for them,” Cliff said. “Time seems to flow differently inside the trial zone.”

“Right, the time dilation thing.”

“Time dilation,” his father repeated, arching an eyebrow at the term. “Perhaps that’s what it is, but nobody is sure. In my time, I spent eleven days within, but outside it was only about eight hours.”

Ember bobbed his head. “Is there no way to know what’s going on inside the trial?”

His father shook his head.

“It is an ancient construct left behind by transcendent beings. Even the Master of Rites, who is at Gold rank and over level 400, can barely know a few things about what’s going on inside the trials. Perhaps someone at the Diamond rank might be able to see through it, but there are none of them in Seynhold.”

Over the next couple of hours, more and more participants came and went. At least there were some happy faces among them, while only one line of announcement came from the Master of Rites, stating that twelve contestants had entered the second layer.

“I did it,” someone shouted the moment he came out of the gate, “I got a Tier 4 Archer Class.”