Damien stood at the majestic gates of Saint Academy, a towering arch carved from luminous silverwood and Divinity-infused stone. The emblem of the Archangel Michael shimmered above, and within, the massive halls glowed with ethereal brilliance.
He exhaled, tightening the straps of his backpack. But just as he was about to step through, a voice rang out—
"Help! Somebody, please!"
His feet moved before his mind could catch up. He sprinted across the eastern corridor of the courtyard, rounding the pillars until he stumbled upon a group of five students surrounding a scrawny boy trembling on the ground.
"Back off!" Damien's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
The group paused, their leader turning with an amused smirk. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore the red-laced first-year uniform with arrogant flair.
The boy on the ground whimpered and scampered away, leaving Damien face-to-face with five smirking figures.
The leader stepped forward. "Who the hell are you?"
Damien's eyes narrowed. "Name's Damien Gray. And you? Just a bunch of cowards bullying a weak kid. Especially you—hiding behind four pieces of trash like a wannabe Saint."
The boys stiffened.
The leader gave a short laugh. "Big mouth. You've got spirit, I'll give you that. Name's Theo Shaw. Remember it, peasant. You're looking at the top first-year, Uriel rank, baby. And guess what? You just made yourself our new toy for the next three years."
He leaned in close. "Divinity like yours is barely a flicker. You reek of poverty. You're a disgrace, a misfit... talentless dummy."
Damien clenched his fists.
Theo's arm lit with divine energy, gold shimmering along his forearm, ready to emit a devastating attack.
But before the attack could be unleashed—
"Enough!" a sharp voice snapped like thunder.
An instructor cloaked in flowing gray robes appeared, eyes glowing faintly. "Mr. Gray. With me. To the Headmaster's office now."
Damien cast one last glare at Theo before following the instructor in silence.
---
Inside the Headmaster's Office
The chamber was circular, glowing with blue and gold Divine runes rotating above. Tall stained-glass windows depicted Saints in glorious battle. At the far end sat a man with neatly combed white hair, adorned in silver robes stitched with the names of angels—Headmaster Elijah Solen.
"Sit, Mr. Gray," he said with a warm but unreadable gaze.
Damien obeyed.
"I just wanted to help out that poor kid," Damien anxiously said.
"I'm not summoning you here because of the skirmish outside," the Headmaster began.
"I swear it wasn't my fault. Those jerks were bullying a kid and—" Damien started.
"Relax," Elijah interrupted gently. "You're here because I wanted to see what kind of boy it takes to wow Saint John Davis himself."
Damien blinked. "Oh right… he was the one who recommended me?"
The Headmaster nodded slowly. "He paid for your tuition out of his own pocket. That has never happened before."
Damien's heart pounded. "I just did what anyone would've done. I saw that family trapped, and I… I acted."
"You did more than that, Damien. You weren't just saving a family. You saved John Davis. That warlock's beam was no coincidence—it was a calculated distraction to tip the fight in his favor. Had you not intervened, the outcome may have changed."
"I… didn't know."
The Headmaster gave a small smile. "Which makes it even more genuine. Now—your current Divinity is incredibly low. Zadkiel rank. But you have potential. If you work hard, you may reach the Uriel rank. Maybe—though unlikely—you might touch the Raphael rank."
"I won't disappoint you," Damien said, standing.
"I hope you don't. Now go. The sorting ceremony has already begun."
---
The Sorting Ceremony
The grand Hall of Ascendancy was filled with a hundred new students, all dressed in pristine white and silver. Crystal chandeliers floated overhead, and a staircase of light curved along the walls.
At the front stood five glowing pedestals, each with a large rotating emblem representing the Houses of Divinity:
1. Seraphim – For the prodigies. Known for power, pride, and precision.
2. Dominion – For the disciplined, strategic, and brave.
3. Virtue – For the compassionate and resilient.
4. Principality – For the intellectual and wise.
5. Thrones – For the creative and unpredictable.
A floating orb of blue fire hovered at the center of the hall. Each student approached it, placed their palm inside, and waited for their house to be chosen.
The instructor on the podium called out names, and with each student, the orb flared and assigned them their house.
"Damien Gray!"
The hall fell eerily silent.
Whispers broke out.
"That's him. The scholarship kid."
"Whose that?"
"No way… I heard he's Zadkiel rank!"
"I had his insanely powerful, that's why he got a scholarship"
The doors creaked open capturing everybody's attention. Damien stepped inside. Heads turned.
He approached the orb.
It was silent for a long moment… then flared violently in bright blue light. The emblem of Dominion House burned into the air above his head.
The hall gasped.
Dominion House.
Second-best.
Known for producing legendary tacticians and fierce warriors.
Theo Shaw, standing among Seraphim initiates, scoffed. But his eyes narrowed.
Damien walked to join the Dominion ranks, chin high despite the firestorm of attention. Whispers followed him like shadows.
He didn't care.
He had arrived.