Chapter 200: Set In Stone
Cindralis stood like a goddess who had descended from her divine domain to grace the mortal world, carrying with her a fragment of higher wisdom.
Her presence alone radiated the majesty of the divine, and it seemed as though the boundaries between heaven and earth had momentarily blurred in that very hall.
Across the wide expanse of the hall, hearts began to falter in rhythm, each beat quickening and breaking out of sync. Students found themselves gripped by an overwhelming infatuation, as though some ethereal compulsion commanded them to adore her.
It was not mere admiration; it was reverence that bordered on worship. Her presence demanded affection, admiration, and awe, and none had the strength to resist.
She began her walk towards the podium with steps that echoed with delicate precision. Each fall of her heel against the polished wood reverberated through the hall like a soft chime, steady and calm, yet commanding. The wooden boards beneath her feet trembled slightly as though in recognition of the authority of the one who now graced their surface.
Berion, the Ninth Vice Principal of Star Academy, observed her approach with quiet respect. Without hesitation, he bowed slightly, a polite smile tugging at his lips, before stepping away from the podium to yield the stage to her. His gesture alone was enough to signify the magnitude of her authority.
Now standing before the grand podium, Cindralis faced the two hundred gathered students of her Academy. Her mere act of standing there eradicated all lingering whispers and movement. The silence was absolute, almost sacred, as though even the air itself feared to disturb her.
"Some of you know me as the Goddess of Space," she began, her voice carrying effortlessly through the expanse of the hall. It was a voice so smooth, so soothing, that one could imagine it calming even the rage of an immortal god.
"Some know me as the Principal of Star Academy. Others have heard me called the Sovereign of the Separate Dimension. Some know me only by name, Cindralis. You may choose to call me by whichever title pleases you most. But first, let me begin by saying, welcome to my institution."
The words, spoken with serene care, rippled through the minds of the listeners.
"I will not take long, for the Ninth Principal has already addressed most of what needs to be said," she continued, pausing briefly to let her words settle. "I know some of you may be panicking about the expulsion he mentioned earlier, should you fail to show progress. Perhaps you think it unfair. But the truth is this: reality itself is unfair. That is the way of the world. So claw your way forward, no matter the obstacle, no matter the cost. Seize your progress, or be devoured by your failures."
Her eyes swept over the sea of students, sharp and unwavering, before she continued.
"Now, today, we welcome Asher Wargrave, the first ranker of your class, to speak a few words. But not only that. He has broken the record for the highest points ever acquired, surpassing the legendary mark once set by his elder brother, Malrik Wargrave. For this achievement, there is an appropriate reward." She turned her gaze toward the students. "Asher Wargrave, step onto the stage."
Her command carried weight, and at that moment, a radiant beam of light split through the dimness of the hall, focusing solely on a single figure seated amongst the students. The light revealed Asher, who sat calmly in his place, his eyes fixed on the Sovereign of the Separate Dimension before him.
Dozens of heads swiveled in his direction, eyes widening, breaths held. The atmosphere thickened as all attention converged upon him. It was as though the entire grand hall demanded his movement, waiting for him to rise.
For a brief moment, Asher seemed caught off guard, his expression unreadable, but then he exhaled softly, rising from his seat with quiet grace. His steps were steady as he descended the row, moving down the narrow flight of stairs. The radiant light followed his every motion, as though bound to him, illuminating his path until he finally reached the stage.
Descending the last few steps, he approached the podium where Cindralis awaited. With a mere gesture of her hand, a golden ring shimmered into existence within her palm. Without hesitation, she lifted it for all to see, her voice carrying clarity and weight.
"This is a teleportation ring," she explained, her tone even. "It was crafted by me personally. Each instructor of Star Academy possesses one, allowing them to teleport to places within the Separate Dimension where they have been granted access. This ring does the same. It will grant you the ability to teleport, though only within the boundaries of this dimension. It is a rare gift, and now, it is yours."
A hush fell across the hall as her words settled in. For many of the students, envy flared within their eyes. A teleportation ring, something only their instructors wielded, was now bestowed upon a fellow student. The jealousy was sharp, unmistakable, and it glittered in the stares fixed on Asher and the artifact in Cindralis’ hand.
"Thank you for this gift," Asher said at last, his voice calm and respectful as he bowed slightly, accepting the ring from her hand.
A soft smile curved upon Cindralis’ lips, brief yet telling, before she stepped aside to allow him his moment before the gathered assembly.
Standing at the podium, Asher gripped its edge lightly. His mind stirred with thoughts.
’What should I say?’ he wondered silently.
’Should I play the arrogant prodigy, like those in countless novels? Should I challenge everyone here while showcasing superiority?’
In his past life as Ethan, he had stood on stages countless times, delivering speeches with practiced ease. His flawless academic record, his repeated awards, his perfect CGPA, all had brought him recognition and platforms where he had spoken with confidence. Fear of public speaking was long alien to him.
But this was not the same. This was not Earth. This was not a mundane hall of academics.
’Let’s not be cringe,’ he thought with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ’There are enough here who carry their pride like banners. No need to provoke them with empty arrogance.’
At last, he spoke, his voice steady and clear, echoing across the silent chamber.
"I am sure most of you have heard of me in one way or another," he began. "Over the years, I have been given many names: The Dim Sun, The Disgrace of the Wargrave Lineage, The Herald of the Wargrave Bloodline thinning. Twice I failed my awakening, twice I was cast aside and ridiculed. Yet here I stand, despite it all, as the best amongst you, though I arrived two years late."
He paused, letting the words weigh upon the hearts of his listeners.
"If I can claw my way from the bottom, through insults, through curses, through laughter, through disappointment, then so can you. Do not allow anyone to convince you otherwise. Talent is not everything. Remember this: no failure is permanent, and nothing is set in stone."