Chapter 11: Ranks

Sometimes it’s not about how strong you think you are, but how invisible your strength is to others.

The world of the gods is cruel, where hidden potential means nothing, and hierarchy always outweighs merit. It doesn’t matter how many times you fight, how many times you rise to your feet… if you lack the vision to grow, you will always be seen as weak.

And yet, it is in those corners —among the last, the rejected, the forgotten— where true change often begins.

The students of GODS finally face their first official judgment. Not for their words, not for their ideals, but for their contributions in battle. Some rejoice at recognition, while others awaken to a harsh truth.

Here, none of it means anything… not yet.

And the moment they realize they’re standing on the final stage, their souls tremble —and they finally decide to rise.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The sun had barely begun to rise when the silence of the dormitory was shattered by a voice emerging from a small hologram suspended in the air.
—Notice to all students. Report to the main classroom. Urgent.

The image flickered and vanished in a faint blue glow.

A weary sigh followed.
—Now? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last training…

The walk to the classroom felt heavier than usual. The walls of the institute seemed to watch each step, judging in silence. When he arrived, stares immediately pierced him. Everyone was already there. Familiar faces. Some indifferent. Others… hostile.

A figure stood patiently at the front of the class. Her presence filled the air with elegance and authority.
—I’m glad you came. Today, you will receive your first official ranking. From this moment forward, each of you will have a rank card.

A faint murmur rippled through the room. No one needed to ask what it meant. At GODS, ranks were everything.

—As you know —she continued—, the world of the gods evaluates its students by rank: Gold, Silver, and Bronze. This assessment is not based on potential… but on concrete results. Zenka energy, physical strength, endurance, speed, technique, performance. Promises don’t matter here. Only proof.

A pause. The air thickened with tension.

—We will begin with the highest ranks.

The first name was spoken with solemn weight, and the class reacted as if they had expected it all along.
—Tenth place, Gold Rank: Yohei Aktína.

A figure rose effortlessly, walking with the confidence of someone who knew his worth. Taking his card, he didn’t even glance at the others.

—Second name. Fifteenth place, Gold Rank: Zef Mizushima.

Reverent silence followed. He too rose, expression neutral, almost detached, as if the number meant nothing to him.

—Last of the Gold Rank. Twentieth place: Lowa Match.

The shock was visible. No one had expected to see her among the strongest, and yet… there she was. Her steps were steady, serene. No smiles, no celebration.

A ripple of unease spread. The name many expected still hadn’t been called.

—Fifth place, Silver Rank: Shu Sagesse.

A shiver ran through the room. The same shiver struck Shu himself. He said nothing. Only lowered his gaze for a second… and sat back down, teeth clenched.

One by one, more names were called. Numbers, ranks, designations. Bronze, Silver. The list dropped lower, and the silence grew heavier with every turn.

At last, only one remained.

—Edén Yomi. Bronze Rank. Position… forty-five.

A heartbeat stopped. Forty-five. The very last.

The air pressed down for a moment, suffocating.

—To you, I do have something to say.

Her voice softened slightly. Just slightly.

—You have great potential. No one denies it. But so far, you haven’t proven you can control it. And without control, power means nothing. That’s why you’re here. At the very bottom.

No words left his mouth. Only broken thoughts.
“The last one…”

But then, her voice returned —this time firm, resolute.
—If you want to change that… grow stronger. And prove to us that you deserve more.

The silence broke into murmurs across the room.

—To conclude —she announced—, I’ll say only this: This year, I refuse to lose to anyone. So I expect you all to give it everything.

A chorus answered with vigor.
—Yes, ma’am!

And while some clenched their fists, others fixed their eyes on the floor. Each carried their own fire, newly lit.

Because in GODS, rank doesn’t only dictate where you stand…
It reveals how far you’re willing to fight to leave it behind.

The classroom fell silent only minutes after the announcement. But one mind refused to rest.

Forty-five.

The number rang in his head like a broken bell, relentless and cruel. The lowest. The last.

Around him, the others kept talking. Some looked satisfied, others frustrated. A few exchanged approving glances. Some whispered behind forced smiles. And in the middle of it all, he remained still, as if his body hadn’t yet processed what he had just heard.

A folded letter in his pocket seemed to remind him of something. With tense fingers, he pulled it out.

“It’s been a week since I joined GODS…”

The handwriting was his, but the words felt less like a letter to someone and more like an echo to himself. He had decided to write as a way to stay focused. To remind himself of what he was chasing.

“…at first I doubted, but when I saw the power of some of my classmates, everything became clear.”

He wasn’t only talking about techniques or energy. He had seen determination. Instinct. Ambition. Eyes that didn’t just seek the divine throne… but their place in the world.

And then, he remembered.

That battle from two days ago.
The day he faced him. The son of Zeus.

An uneven fight from any angle. One that made no sense to most. But for him… it had been a turning point.

He remembered the first strike. The speed. The hollow ache in his stomach when it landed. The floor vanishing beneath him as he was hurled out of the circle.

And he remembered standing up, even knowing nothing was in his favor.

—This is only the beginning.

And it had been true.

He remembered the improvised plan, the reckless move. The exact instant he aimed for his opponent’s legs. The moment he managed to shake the balance of the god-in-training. That single second… that fleeting heartbeat where the invulnerable figure stumbled.

A breath. A step. An interrupted strike.

He hadn’t won the battle. But he had achieved something far more valuable: planting doubt in his enemy.

Back in the classroom, his fingers tightened around the letter.

They all knew it. The one who fell was him, yes. But the one who truly shone… was also him.

Because respect is never given. It’s taken —blow by blow.

The letter ended like this:

“Everyone here is amazing and powerful. I want to know more about the world of the gods… But I don’t have time.
I have to find him.
Wherever he is, I’ll bring him back.
Sincerely,
Edén.”

A moment of silence. Then, a deep breath.

It didn’t matter where he started. Or how many stood in front of him.

Only one thing was certain:
That number would not define him.

The classroom lights dimmed one by one after the final warning. A brief, uneasy silence lingered among the students.

Some left with firm steps. Others whispered to each other, already calculating their place in the hierarchy that now pressed on their shoulders like an invisible crown.

He was one of the last to leave.

His footsteps echoed alone down the stairwell. Outside, the air was colder than usual. Perhaps it was tension… or perhaps it was the first time in a long while he truly felt small.

But it wasn’t sadness that filled him.

It was something stranger. Frustration. Pride. Hunger.

Like an empty stomach after battle —but one that craved not food… but more fights.

—So? —a voice called, leaning casually against a column with its usual arrogance.

That confident face watched him from the shadows. Messy hair. A crooked smile. As if he’d been waiting, knowing he would be the last to come out.

—I saw you, you know? —he added before Edén could reply—. When you got your card… that tremor in your fingers. I noticed.

No answer came. Only a silent meeting of eyes. Steady. Unflinching.

—Did it hurt?
—A little.
—Are you going to quit?
—Never.

The smile widened, as though that was exactly the answer he’d been waiting for.

—Good boy.

They walked away from the main dorms, steps carrying them down a dim path. The way was long, the lamps weak, but in that shared silence, words weren’t needed. Only a clear purpose: to keep moving forward.

—Do you know what my rank was the day I first arrived at GODS? —he asked suddenly, stopping mid-path.

The surprised look was answer enough.

—Thirty-nine. Bronze Rank. Near the bottom. Everyone laughed at me… until I stopped giving them reasons.
—And now?
—Now I’m the one who decides who gets a second chance.

The silence returned. But this time it wasn’t empty. It was heavy with meaning.

—You don’t need anyone to tell you —he continued—. You already know your worth. But if you want the world to see it… you’ll have to shove every word, every number, every look of contempt back down their throats.

The shadow of the building stretched before them.

—And you? What do you see when you look at me? —the boy asked, voice low, almost a whisper.

—A warrior. One who hasn’t discovered himself yet. But when he does… he’ll tear everything apart.

A pause.
—And you? What do you see when you look at yourself?

The silence lasted longer this time. But in the end, one sentence was enough.

—The beginning of something even I can’t understand yet.

A soft breeze brushed against Edén’s cheeks. Silence flooded the world again, as if time itself had paused. That mysterious man, still cloaked in shadow, watched him with a calmness that didn’t match the weight of the moment.

—You have the eyes of someone who has lost much… but also the will of someone ready to take everything back —he murmured, voice low but unwavering.

Edén didn’t answer. He only breathed, exhausted, his chest still pounding from the emotional storm.

The stranger stepped back, as if nothing more needed to be said. But before fading away, he tilted his head slightly, letting a smile curve on his lips.

—Keep walking, kid. I hope we meet again soon… when your conviction burns even brighter.

And with that, his figure dissolved into the air, like dust carried off by the wind.

Edén blinked. The world shifted. He was back in the same corner of the academy, sunlight filtering through the clouds. Everything looked the same. Everything… except for the strange warmth burning in his chest.

—Who was that guy…? —he whispered, unsure if he had been dreaming… or if he had just lived one of the most real experiences of his life.

The answer wouldn’t come that day. But somewhere deep inside, he already knew: this wouldn’t be their last encounter.