Jack stared at the table in front of him. In truth, there wasn’t much to think about at all since the obvious choice was a “No.” The Legacy Orb had been useful with its many potentials, but he was sure the system would be even better to follow. It allowed the level up of a skill, which meant the improvement would take effect immediately, much like the video game he had once played back on Earth and the experience he had gained on World No.146.

The path displayed by the Legacy Orb would prove beneficial when he passively encountered the skills created by the succeeding generation of that faction as well as their experience. For example, Shadow Jump was very practical, perhaps developed later on, but it required a slow learning and absorbing process through the Orb, even though Jack did this so much faster than an average person. Hiding his aura following the instruction of Presence of the Night would take others weeks or months of training to master. In conclusion, he thought it would be best for him to learn skills from the system, battle experience and tactics from the Legacy Orb.

Jack waved his hand, closing the system after making up his mind. He wondered on which standard the skilltree of the system was based. Was it designed by the system itself, or by the originator of that specific faction? Niemis had been mentioned as the god of Nightblade, so was the skilltree his? And would that make any improvements and changes impossible for him to make? He reckoned there would come a time when he would finally abandon the system, but for now, he would just focus on the basic stuff.

Jack had an extra class with principal Meinhard to check on his progress with the Legacy Orb. He proceeded to hide his aura for some twenty breaths, which didn’t surprise Meinhard much.

“It seems like the advantage that will make you the second Charlotte is still nowhere to be found,” Meinhard assessed.

“For now,” Jack nodded, “but I doubt you will start losing your faith in me, right?”

Meinhard shrugged, scribing something on the piece of paper before him. A report for the Corvus, perhaps, Jack thought.

“The old drunkard Bastian has told me how you managed to convince him after he and I had a little drinking contest,” Meinhard said.

“Wonderful,” Jack grumbled, “if that’s the case, even the Hensley will know everything.”

The professor leaned his head, smiling at Jack.

“Don’t worry, only I can beat him in that regard!”

Jack shrugged, showing the same uncertain reaction Meinhard just did. He continued scanning through the lesson about Arcanist.

“Never mess with the Maester before wars and never fight the Arcanist during them.”

These were the teaching words from the book, or more accurately, the notes Meinhard had written down so far in his life. The Maester was a deep-rooted and influential diplomatic force. This faction made people dependent on their power of life and promotion, as all the best medicine, potions, and other power-strengthening methods came from them. Their poisons, on the other hand, were used for well-known reasons that not many dared speak of.

For the Arcanist, it was on the other end of the spectrum. Quite the opposite to the behind-the-curtain cunning of the Maester, people feared the Arcanist for their straightforward raw destructive power. A high-ranking Arcanist could carry the strength of an army in a short time. Meteors fell from the sky, mountains rose from the ground, with tidal waves and firestorms devastated the battlefield. Those were the stories of how the Arcanist did their business in war. The cost of their immense mana capacity and mastery was a weak body with vulnerable defense. A single Arcanist might be not much but a threat, but an army of them would be a nightmare for any opposing force. Therefore, most, if not all, great powers in this world usually allied themself, or at the very least, tried not to get on the wrong side of this powerhouse. Of course, much like the Nightblade, other factions also had their ways of dealing with the Arcanist. Jasmin Hensley, when fighting with Meinhard, had done her homework in order to keep him in check. They might find challenges opposing people at the same ranking, but still, the Arcanist destructive power was second to none.

When reading about an Arcanist mana requirement, Jack asked Meinhard.

“What if someone doesn't perform their awakening ceremony, professor? What if they don’t have the mana to live their life?”

Meinhard looked up from his paperwork, wondering why Jack was questioning this.

“Then, they will most likely live the life of the bottomer. Living a rather peaceful, gloryless life.

“Must glory come with power ranking?”

“Yes, most certainly in a world built upon it.”

Jack recalled the historical celebrity, geniuses, and heroes on Earth. For the whole time, glory had been chasing these brilliant individuals as they did their things, not the other way around. But here, in this massive world, where one’s achievement corresponded with a predetermined affinity index and age, everything they did seemed insignificant. Living longer and learning more was the way to make an impact here. When you had redundant time, you’d possessed more knowledge, hence, more remarkable, more profound inventions than the whole Earth’s population combined.

Even in World No.146, the population and average life expectancy were rather normal. Jack had been the only reason he himself, his wife, and his companions had managed to enjoy a lengthy life, and even that had been quite disruptive to the balance of natural flow in that world.

Seeing Jack’s contemplating expression with his eyes staring at the blank space, Meinhard thought he should bring Jack back.

“Without the ceremony, a normal person can still improve themself. But, with limited results, I reckoned, like how your natural skeletal structure can only support so much height.”

Jack turned around, facing Meinhard.

“Like Robert,” Jack said, “The carpenter in my household. He is relatively stronger than the people in the kitchen.”

Meinhard pointed his index finger up in agreement.

“Yes, like that. By practicing, one can improve the physical or mental aspect of oneself. The world is always covered in mana, and your body will more or less improve its ability to absorb it, which will prove beneficial in the long term.”

“Can they be considered a Herald?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” Meinhard nodded, “you can consider that the case. Every rank can be further divided into the upper and lower tier. I am, for example, a high-ranking Crusader on the doorstep to become an Archon. A normal person without the support of the awakening ceremony can only achieve at their best a low-tier Herald.”

Jack thought to himself again. According to the books, the awakening ceremony could be seen as a molting process of the human body. It would remove the limit of an ordinary person and unleash one’s potential, and with that came the change of social status. That was the reason most families would want their children to be able to go through this, despite the devastating cost of fortune that came with it. From the monopoly of the procedure to the life-threatening risk of collecting the right ingredients, all created a balance of demand and supply that dictated a pyramid of order and power.

But, one thing still didn’t quite make sense to Jack.

“Everybody’s awakening is different. You said it once, right?” Jack asked.

“The result has never been equal for the people partaking in the same ceremony,” Meinhard said. “After the students have finished your ceremony, in Mocester this year, roughly seventy percent of you will come back here, or find another school, or maybe even go out there and find a laboring job for yourself.”

“Seventy percent?” Jack was bewildered. That was not the number he was expecting.

“That was being optimistic. The thirty percent will be considered to have the potential of achieving Crusader rank and becoming the next backbone of every nation or empire’s next generation. It’s very uncommon for one outside of that group to be able to advance. Their limit now lies at the upper Herald rank, a seemingly unbreakable obstacle.”

“And what if they just go ahead and do the ranking up process?”

“The only thing they will achieve is wasting themself, even the thirty percent or a high ranking Archon will become a bottomer if they fail it. The process, the Ascension Ritual as we called it, is as much a terrible risk as it is a wonderful opportunity. There are quite a few requisites that you will learn about later on, and even failing to meet one of them can make you regret that decision for the rest of your life. Failure here means you will lose the ability to absorb mana, and even a commoner can naturally do that.”

“So, everyone can become a Herald through the ceremony, but it will take more than that to advance into Crusader?”

“Correct,” Meinhard replied, “and I hope you will perform well in order to find your way to the Ovetin Academy.”

Jack didn’t know how to answer that. Everything was still too ambiguous for him to make a statement. There was no certain basis that supported his claim as being noteworthy in the eyes of the recruiters of even the Koisine academy. As much as he believed the system would somehow help him, these first few steps he had been taking hadn’t been as easy as he had expected.

“If you are questioning the assessing standards,” Meinhard said as if he knew what was going on inside Jack’s mind, “I’m pretty certain you will be at least in the top ten of the admission. Your ability to study, fight, and manipulate mana exceeds your peers. That can be considered an indication of how good your current strength and spirit stats currently are. After the awakening, these stats will be enhanced. You will be fine.”

Jack gave himself a sigh of relief.

“Have you ever imagined yourself as a bottomer, professor? Like, in the case you somehow encountered problems during your Ascension Ritual?”

Meinhard gave a very unconvincing reply.

“I’ve always envied their peacefulness.”