SSS-Rank Talent: Super Upgrade System-Chapter 125: Paths Of Power. Pt 2

The vast plaza of Astralis Academy’s Upper House still hummed with a mixture of nervous energy and ambitious whispers.

Vice-Principal Travis Standen’s fiery speech about forging peerless warriors in the Combat Techniques School had left many aspirants trembling, some with fear, others with a primal excitement.

Ayra, beside Daniel, was practically vibrating, her S-Grade Crystal Gloves looking like they might spontaneously combust from her eagerness.

Following him, the serene, elderly Vice-Principal Aslaug Winnick of the Command School had offered a different path, one of intellect, strategy, and leadership.

Her quiet words had resonated with a different segment of the crowd, those whose talents lay not in brute force but in sharp minds and the ability to see the grander design of the chaotic Verge.

Olenna, standing a little apart from Daniel’s group, her face a mask of cool determination, had visibly straightened at the mention of shaping humanity’s future.

Daniel knew the Command School was her target; it was the key to her desperate search for her lost sister.

A subtle shift in the ambient energy drew all eyes to the next figure on the dais.

He was a tall man, radiating an aura of cold, almost disdainful indifference.

His dark, well-fitted uniform was plain, marked only by the detailed insignia of the Weapons and Armaments School.

He stood with arms crossed, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered aspirants, his expression fixed in quiet disapproval.

This was Robb Naharis, a legendary master craftsman and weaponsmith, the Vice-Principal whose school was responsible for creating and maintaining the very tools of survival and destruction that Vanguards relied upon.

"Aspirants," Robb Naharis began, his voice as cold and sharp as tempered steel.

It wasn’t loud, yet it cut through the plaza’s low murmur with effortless precision, demanding attention.

"My school, the Weapons and Armaments School, does not deal in flamboyant displays of raw power, nor do we indulge in the... theoretical pontifications... of grand strategy."

A faint, almost imperceptible sneer touched his lips as his gaze flickered dismissively towards Travis Standen and Aslaug Winnick, who both studiously ignored him.

"We deal in tangible results," Naharis continued, his voice devoid of any warmth.

"We forge the instruments of victory. We understand the sacred bond between a warrior and their weapon, the intricate dance of energy and material that can turn a simple tool into an extension of one’s very will.

Here, you will learn to create, to enhance, to master the very tools that will keep you alive in the deepest, darkest hells the Verge can conjure. Or, if you are incompetent, the tools that will fail you at the most critical moment."

He uncrossed his arms, revealing hands that were calloused and scarred, yet moved with an artisan’s grace.

"We seek those with a passion for the craft, a meticulous mind, an unyielding dedication to perfection.

Your raw talent, your flashy combat records," another dismissive glance, "are secondary to your diligence, your aptitude for learning, and your willingness to spend countless hours toiling in the forges, mastering the ancient arts and the cutting-edge sciences of weaponcraft.

We do not pamper genius here; we temper it, often through failure and repetition, until it shines with the brilliance of a perfectly forged blade."

"If you believe you have the patience, the intellect, and the burning desire to create true instruments of power, to understand the soul of steel and the heart of an energy crystal, then perhaps, the Weapons and Armaments School will accept you.

But do not expect praise. Expect only the unforgiving judgment of the forge, and the cold, hard truth of your own limitations."

With that, he crossed his arms again, his expression returning to one of cool, appraising indifference.

A different sort of murmur spread through the aspirants.

This school sounded less about immediate glory and more about long, hard, meticulous work.

Yet, for some, the appeal of creating legendary weapons, of mastering the very tools of survival, was a powerful draw.

Daniel felt a strong pull towards this path.

His SSS-Rank [Soul Assimilation] talent had already shown an incredible affinity for enhancing and evolving equipment.

His S-Grade Blade of The Night and Flying Cloud Mystic Bow were testaments to that.

The thought of combining his talent with the formal knowledge and resources of Master Naharis’s school... he could potentially create artifacts that would redefine the very concept of power.

The idea of forging his own SSS-Grade gear was a dizzying, almost irresistible prospect.

Ayra, however, looked utterly bewildered.

"Forge? Hours of toiling? Sounds like a fancy blacksmith shop for nerds.

I prefer my weapons pre-made and ready for smashing. And what’s this about the soul of steel? Does steel even have a soul? If it does, I bet it’s a very boring one." She shuddered. "No thank you."

Lia offered a thoughtful frown.

"The ability to create and enhance one’s own equipment would be a significant advantage, Ayra.

Imagine, weapons perfectly attuned to our talents, armor that anticipates our needs."

But even she seemed more drawn to the Command School’s strategic approach or the direct application of power from the Combat Techniques School.

The final figure on the dais stepped forward, her presence a stark contrast to the three formidable, almost intimidating Vice-Principals who had preceded her.

She was a surprisingly young woman, her beauty almost ethereal, with long, flowing hair.

She had eyes that sparkled with a genuine kindness and profound compassion.

Her uniform was simpler, adorned with symbols of healing and protection.

Her aura was a comforting warmth, a gentle, flowing river of life-sustaining energy, making the very air around her feel lighter, more hopeful.

This was Yara Fairley, Vice-Principal of the Logistics and Support School.

"Greetings, dear aspirants," Yara Fairley said, her voice soft and melodious, yet it carried across the plaza with an undeniable warmth that eased the lingering tension.

"It is an honor to see so many brave souls who have persevered through the trials of the lower Verge."

She smiled, a genuine, radiant expression that seemed to chase away the shadows.

"My school, the Logistics and Support School, may not offer the immediate glory of the front lines, nor the intricate power plays of high command, nor the solitary satisfaction of the forge.

But I tell you this, without us, none of those paths would lead very far."

"We are the healers who mend the broken, the quartermasters who supply the advance, the technicians who maintain the very platforms that keep us safe.

We are the logisticians who ensure the right resources reach the right hands at the right time, the counselors who tend to the wounds of the mind and spirit as well as the body.

We are the unseen foundation upon which all successful Vanguard operations are built."

Her gaze swept over the crowd, her emerald eyes filled with a deep empathy.

"We seek those with a compassionate heart, a keen mind for organization, a talent for mending, for creating, for sustaining.

We seek those who understand that true strength lies not just in individual power, but in the bonds that connect us, in the support we offer one another.

If you feel called to heal, to protect, to build, to ensure that your fellow Vanguards can fight another day, then the Logistics and Support School welcomes you with open arms."

A wave of relief and quiet interest passed through a significant portion of the aspirants.

Not everyone was a frontline warrior or a master strategist. Many possessed talents for healing, for crafting, for organization, skills that were often overlooked but were utterly vital.

Yara Fairley’s words offered them a clear path, a place where their unique abilities would be valued and nurtured.

Lia’s serene face lit up with a soft, genuine smile. Her A-Grade Staff of the World Ash pulsed in gentle resonance with Yara Fairley’s aura.

"This... this feels right," she murmured, more to herself than to Daniel or Ayra.

Her Holy Priest class, her A-Grade [Lifeweave Affinity], her innate desire to heal and protect... it all aligned perfectly with the values of the Logistics and Support School.

Daniel looked at Lia, a sense of satisfaction settling within him.

This was undoubtedly the best path for her, a place where her incredible healing talents could truly flourish and benefit not just their team, but potentially many others.

"It suits you, Lia," he said quietly. "You’d be a pillar there."

Lia met his gaze, her grey eyes shining with a newfound clarity and purpose. "Thank you, Daniel. I believe it does."

Director Gareth Sterling stepped forward once more, the speeches concluded.

"You have heard from the Vice-Principals. You have seen the paths that lie before you. Now, it is time for the second test: the Battle Record Display."

The holographic projectors in the center of the plaza flared to life, ready to reveal the unvarnished truth of their past deeds.

"Your performance here will not only influence your school placement but will also serve as a final filter. Prepare yourselves. Let the records speak."

The screen flickered, and the first name appeared, along with a summary of their Level 1, 2, and 3 performance.

Aspirant: Lamine Ryan.

Kills: Level 1: 0, Level 2: 0, Level 3: 0.

Assists: Level 1: 2, Level 2: 1, Level 3: 0.

Notable Achievements: Successfully hid during multiple engagements. Consistently consumed more than allotted share of team rations.

Awakened Fatalities Caused (Directly or Indirectly): 3.

Evaluation: Parasitic opportunist. Harmful to unit cohesion. Lacks initiative and combat capability.

STATUS: EXPELLED.

A stunned gasp rippled through the crowd as Lamine Ryan’s image, now marked with a bold red "EXPELLED," slowly faded from the screen.

The message was brutal, unequivocal. Astralis Academy was not playing games.

Director Sterling’s voice was cold, devoid of any sympathy.

Evaluation: Fishing in troubled waters, harming one’s own kind for personal gain.

Aspirant designation... terminated. You are expelled from Astralis Academy. Effective immediately."

The unfortunate recruit’s face crumpled in despair as his Nexus Interface went dark, and two stern-faced Academy guards materialized silently to escort him away.

The message was clear!

The second test had begun, and there would be no place to hide from the truth of their actions.

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