On the morning of the eighth day, a new announcement was posted outside the central hall.
All students who had broken through to Level 1 were called to gather at noon.
Arin stood before the parchment, reading the simple message:
"In light of your achievement, a preliminary assessment will be held at the start of the second week.
Prepare yourselves."
No other details were given.
Around him, the other breakthrough students gathered, murmuring in low, excited voices.
Sera stepped up beside him, her expression calm but curious.
"A test already?" she said.
Arin nodded slightly. "They want to see who's truly ready."
Far above, in the Principal's tower, a different conversation unfolded.
Principal Eston sat behind a wide mahogany desk, fingers steepled before him. Across from him stood Elder Varrin, the first-year instructor.
"They're progressing steadily," Elder Varrin reported. "Seven breakthroughs so far. Another two or three seem close."
Principal Eston leaned back in his chair, gazing out the high arched window.
"Their numbers are small," he said thoughtfully. "But potential is more important than quantity."
A long silence hung between them.
Finally, the Principal spoke again. "What of the Special Class?"
Elder Varrin's mouth tightened slightly.
"Twenty students," he said. "They began private cultivation three months before the academy officially opened. Each has already reached Level 2, some even Level 3."
Principal Eston nodded slowly.
"They are our hidden blade," he said quietly. "When the world realizes the return of cultivation, we will need more than just scattered talents. We will need leaders."
He tapped a finger lightly on the desk.
"This upcoming test... if any of the current first-years show enough potential, transfer them quietly into the Special Category."
Elder Varrin hesitated. "Even if their families are not informed?"
The Principal's eyes glinted sharply.
"Especially if their families are not informed. Talent must be shaped before pride ruins it."
Elder Varrin bowed slightly. "It will be done."
Outside, the wind stirred the banners of the academy, carrying faint whispers of change.
Unseen by most, the true structure of power was beginning to form.
And Arin — along with a few others — was about to step unknowingly onto a very different path.