Warriors, mages, healers, archers, tankers. Memories of the five possible classes he could awaken flashed through his mind.
Yes, he had merged with all the memories of the previous host, but integrating fully with them within a few seconds was delusional.
The memories were there, but some only surfaced when triggered within events such as this.
All talents were linked to the five original classes, such as that of the young man, Raven Stormblood, before him.
His awakened Hellfire Wraith was naturally linked to the mage class.
Still, sure he could choose another path, but that would be detrimental, leaving his talent to waste out.
finally placing his hands on the orb. A ball of resplendent dark light shone, illuminating the whole place with an eerie glow.
It flared into something far more mystical than the previous candidates had managed to invoke from the orb, yet unexpected.
"A black light? What sort of talent is that?" one of the students yapped, jaws dropping to the floor.
"Does that mean he awakened an S-rank talent? But isn’t black supposed to mean F-rank?"
"I don’t get it! Doesn’t the brighter the light invoked mean the stronger the talent? So he has the strongest F-rank talent?!"
"Impossible! Aurelian would never awaken such a trash talent. This must be an illusion. Yes, it can only be... my eyes are deceiving me!"
"Or could it be that he was just a pig disguised all along as a tiger? He is a fake!"
Back on the highest seat, a multitude of emotions washed over the powerhouses, especially Patriarch Artorias.
His face had a lazy smirk as he watched his favorite grandson do what he could never do, awaken an S-rank talent.
With that kind of talent, they had a shot at attracting the attention of the major factions, or even better... the four supreme academies!
But all that had been swept away once the one he had placed all his hopes on awakened an...
"Aurelian Draegor! Awakened F-rank talent: Passive Regeneration!"
The words that slipped out of Rarvo’s mouth were the final nail in the coffin.
His expectations had been misplaced. His hopes subverted.
He would have loved to stand with his grandson in this time of weakness on the fact that blood was thicker than power, but he wasn’t keen on making another mistake.
Power exceeded family, and family, he now truly understood, made you weak. It would be no different than hiding a festering wound.
His eyes turning icy, he commanded: "Descend from the podium. Your talent is inconsequential!"
His words boomed, shaking the earth Aurelian stood on, before he was sent skidding off it.
So much for being the favorite grandson, Aurelian snickered.
He was not so delusional as to think awakening a low-tier talent would end well for him, but wasn’t this quite the quick switch-up?
From a princely figure to nothing more than a lowly dog! However much he had prepared himself for this, the sting still hurt!
Which at this point was ludicrous! He had barely transmigrated into this world for a day, yet here he was, discarded again. The prospect of a family had been great—then dashed away from him.
Fucking bastards, he cursed mentally, picking himself up from the ground. But then again, I suppose the great expectations they had placed on me played a large part in their wrath. But I care nothing for that now.
As he walked away from the podium, a thought now lay seared in his mind. I will make you all pay for this. System or not, you are about to learn never to mess with a freaking transmigrator!
Looking at the fading figure of his former grandson, Artorias’ fingers curled into fists as he rose to his feet. All the love he had once shown him had turned to hate.
Clearing his throat, just about to announce the end of the ceremony, Elder Varn, who had been watching the drama unfold, suddenly rose to his feet with theatrical flair. His eyes locked onto the descending figure, a smirk laced on his lips, before he turned to the patriarch.
"Forgive me, Patriarch, for my boldness, but I have a suggestion. I know the failure of that brat has saddened you, but I think my suggestion will grant us a chance in the upcoming academy selections."
"What!?" Artorias snapped, not particularly happy. "Speak of this suggestion. If it pleases me, you shall be rewarded. If not, I shall teach you your place!"
His voice came out as a slow crawl, yet the meaning behind it was not lost. The crowd below had long regained their composure, waiting for the ceremony to end so they could attune with their talents before awakening their classes ten days later.
Gulp! Swallowing desperately, Elder Varn continued, his words measured. "My niece... Aurora, the one you had taken away. She is a talented, beautiful young woman. If your grace allows, I believe that if given the opportunity, she will awaken a superb talent, unlike some people who talk big but are trash."
Artorias narrowed his gaze. Desperation was unbecoming, but opportunity....opportunity was priceless.
"You stake your life on this claim?"
"I do, my lord. Gladly."
The Patriarch’s silence was brief. His decision had already been made.
"Bring her forward. If she proves herself, she will be rewarded. If not... she will be dealt with accordingly."
"Yes!" Elder Varn snapped his fingers, a feverish gleam in his eye. "Well? Don’t just stand there, bring out the girl!"
Chains rattled as a young woman was dragged into the hall, her tear-streaked face lifting toward her "savior."
"Uncle Varn!" she cried. "Help me! I want revenge, I want him to suffer!"
Varn crouched beside her, his words dripping like venom into her ear.
"Did you complete the forbidden ritual?"
Her breath caught, before she nodded, trembling. "Yes. I did everything you told me."
Relief split his face into a grin. "Good. Then dazzle the world. Take what’s yours."
Blinded by desperation and rage, Aurora laid her jade-like hands upon the orb. At once, the sphere erupted in an ominous blaze, casting bizarre shadows across the chamber.
At the very back, Aurelian paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder. His lips curled into a faint, bitter smile.
"S-rank, huh? Figures. The plot’s already written."
He could already foresee the people licking her feet, and her coming for revenge.
Turning away, he clenched his fist until blood dripped between his fingers.
"This isn’t over. Somewhere, I have something.... something that sets me apart. And when I find it..."
His voice dropped into a vow of steel. "I’ll teach them the truth I learned today. Power before family. No matter the cost."