My almighty ranking system

Chapter 9

Morning came too quickly.

I was awake long before the bell tower rang, sitting on the edge of my bed with the invitation still folded in my hand. The wax seal of the Academy Council glimmered faintly in the dim light.

I could feel it even before the system confirmed it someone had placed a tracking charm on the paper.

“Typical,” I muttered. “Invite me to a meeting and then spy on me before I even get there.”

Leo stirred in his sleep across the room. I dressed quietly, sliding my badge onto the collar of my jacket. The mirror showed a face that looked calmer than I felt. Beneath the surface, my pulse drummed with anticipation.

Private evaluation, I thought. Let’s see what they really want.

The Council building sat on the highest terrace of the academy, a slab of black stone surrounded by glass towers. Security drones floated above the steps, their crimson eyes scanning every ranker who approached.

A woman in a grey uniform waited by the entrance. “Kyle Palmer, Section C. You’re expected inside.”

Her tone was clipped and mechanical. I followed her through a long corridor lined with portraits faces of ancient rankers staring down, all wearing the same expression of superiority.

The door at the end opened without sound.

Inside, a round chamber gleamed with white light. Seven council members sat behind curved desks, each with their personal crest glowing before them. At the center of the room was a raised platform the evaluation ring.

The man seated in the middle, older than the others, looked directly at me. His hair was pure silver, and his uniform carried three golden emblems.

“Welcome, Mr. Palmer. I am Headmaster Drayke.”

His voice filled the room like rolling thunder.

“Take the platform.”

I stepped forward. The air around the platform shimmered, sealing itself.

Drayke folded his hands. “You entered this academy under special recommendation. Your sponsor, Linsey von Argon, speaks highly of you. However, her opinion is not the law here. The Council must confirm that you belong.”

One of the women on the left leaned forward. “State your ability.”

I met her eyes. “Classified under a geass seal. Access restricted to the sponsor.”

Whispers rippled around the table. Drayke raised a hand and the room fell silent.

“Then we will evaluate through direct observation.”

The floor beneath me pulsed with blue light. Dozens of crystal shards rose, forming six training drones. Their metallic arms flexed, each one glowing with compressed mana.

“Begin,” Drayke said.

The first drone lunged. I sidestepped, its blade slicing the air where my throat had been. Sparks rained as the weapon struck the barrier behind me.

I moved instinctively years of surviving in alleys had taught me how to read aggression. I twisted, catching the next drone’s arm and shoving it into another. The collision sent both staggering.

Then a third drone fired a burst of energy. The shockwave threw me backward. My ribs screamed.

“Impressive reaction speed,” someone murmured.

Drayke didn’t move. “You’re holding back.”

He was right. I hadn’t used my ability. But I needed to know how much they could see.

Another drone charged its cannon. I lifted my hand.

The glow from its cannon faltered. A whine rose, followed by a dull boom. The explosion tore through its frame, taking two others with it. The shockwave cracked the platform.

Students watching from the balcony gasped. The council chamber filled with smoke.

I lowered my hand slowly.

Only one drone remained. I didn’t even need to look at it. The machine hesitated, sensors flickering. It took a single step backward, then collapsed as its core overheated.

Silence.

Drayke’s expression was unreadable. The woman who’d questioned me earlier tapped something on her tablet. “Energy readings inconsistent with standard mana usage. Probability of anomaly seventy nine percent.”

“Anomaly,” I repeated, smiling faintly. “That’s one way to describe it.”

Drayke leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Palmer, you understand that possessing an unregistered ability places you under direct observation by the Council. You will report to Instructor Vale weekly for assessment.”

“Understood.”

He studied me for a long moment. “One more question. Do you consider yourself loyal to your sponsor?”

I met his gaze. “Loyalty is earned, not given.”

A murmur ran through the council. Drayke actually smiled. “Good answer.”

He stood, robes shifting like shadows. “Evaluation complete. Rank 1,521 confirmed. Transfer approved to advanced training division.”

A chime sounded.

The barrier lowered. I exhaled slowly and stepped off the platform. The assistant who’d guided me in waited at the doorway, eyes wide.

“You’re… you’re still standing.”

“Yeah,” I said, brushing dust from my jacket. “Wasn’t that the point?”

Outside, the wind felt sharper. The academy bells rang somewhere in the distance, marking noon.

A small drone descended beside me and projected a message in glowing letters.

> “Report to the East Wing tomorrow morning. Instructor Vale requests a private briefing. Bring your system data.”

I frowned. “So Vale’s still watching.”

The drone beeped and flew off.

On my way back to the dorm, I passed students whispering in the corridors. Word spread fast too fast. By the time I reached my door, I could feel their eyes following me.

Leo was waiting inside, leaning against the wall. “You survived the council?”

“Barely.”

He grinned. “You just moved up a division. You’re a celebrity now.”

“Celebrities don’t usually have half the school watching for a mistake,” I said, dropping onto the bed.

Leo hesitated, then tossed me a small data card. “Someone left this for you at the front desk. No name.”

The card glowed faintly red. I held it up to the light. Words appeared across the surface:

> “Welcome to the real academy. The Council isn’t your enemy but they’re not your allies either. Watch the Headmaster. He’s hunting fragments.”

Fragments. The word made my skin crawl.

“Figures,” I muttered.

Leo blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just a bad feeling.”

I slipped the card into my pocket and leaned back. Outside, the bells tolled again, echoing through the corridors like a warning.

If Drayke was hunting system fragments, then sooner or later he’d come for mine.

And when he did, he’d learn that misfortune doesn’t ask for permission.