SSS-RANKED Awakening: Supreme Fate-breaker System-Chapter 25: Childish taunts from David Fangblade...

A low rumbling noise filled the plaza as cracks formed beneath his feet, snaking outward in jagged patterns.

The Rune Stone flared with an earthy golden light, its glow carrying the presence of something ancient, primal, and unyielding.

The system window manifested.

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David Fangblade

Talent Awakened: Earth Titan's Wrath (A-Rank)

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Silence.

Then— an explosion of voices.

"An A-Rank!"

"Earth Titan's Wrath?! That sounds insane!"

The instructor's voice carried both authority and respect.

"Earth Titan's Wrath—a hybrid talent of offense and defense.

It grants the wielder an enhanced physique, allowing them to generate seismic shockwaves with every attack. Additionally, they can temporarily turn their body into living stone, making them impervious to standard physical damage.

At higher levels, they will be able to wield Titanforce, increasing their size, power, and even manipulating the terrain around them in battle.

"That's practically an S-Rank talent!"

"Damn, his strength is going to be ridiculous."

Darius stepped back, a slight smirk forming.

But then—

His gaze flickered toward Ethan.

A knowing look.

A silent challenge.

Being the only one to awaken an A-rank so far, he reveled in the weight of his achievement. The rush of superiority surged in his veins, an intoxicating thrill that made him feel untouchable. He wanted Ethan to feel it too—the pressure, the weight of expectations, the unspoken demand to match him.

Ethan, standing at ease, simply raised an eyebrow.

David let out a low chuckle, his voice laced with amusement and the faintest hint of condescension. "Hope you awaken something good, Drakethorne."

Selene nudged Ethan, her voice barely above a whisper. "That was definitely a provocation."

Ethan exhaled lazily, his expression unchanging. "Let him have his moment."

But unlike what Selene assumed, Ethan felt nothing. No pressure. No anxiety. The outcome, whatever it may be, was already something he had come to terms with. He didn't care for the expectations or the silent contests others seemed so desperate to engage in. If anything, the whole situation was mildly amusing.

Davids' attempt to rattle him? Childish.

The tension in the air? Pointless.

Ethan almost wanted to laugh. But instead, he simply stood there, watching, letting them all think what they wanted.

The ceremony was reaching its peak.

And then—

"Next— Ethan Drakethorne!"

The air stilled.

The crowd fell silent.

And all eyes turned toward him.

Each awakening brought a wave of emotions rippling through the gathered students. Some erupted into cheers, thrilled by their newfound power, their faces glowing with triumph. Others, however, stood frozen in disappointment, eyes darting nervously to their hands as if expecting their fate to suddenly change.

The entire ceremony was a whirlwind of hopes fulfilled and dreams crushed.

Through it all, Ethan remained unmoved.

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He observed with mild detachment, arms crossed, posture relaxed, as talent after talent was revealed. The crowd obsessed over rankings and power, but he knew the truth—

Talents weren't everything.

Raw power meant nothing if the person wielding it lacked control, intelligence, or the will to break beyond limitations.

What mattered wasn't what you were given—

But how far you were willing to push it.

And soon, it would be his turn.

The Moment Before the Storm

As the ceremony reached its peak, the atmosphere shifted.

The once casual chatter and murmurs dimmed, replaced by a tangible tension. It wasn't spoken, but everyone could feel it—the final names would soon be called.

And then—

Ethan noticed it.

Subtle but unmistakable.

The instructors stood a little straighter.

The academy officials, normally composed, cast occasional glances toward him.

Even some of the city's high-ranking figures—warlords, guild leaders, and noble spectators—seemed to be paying special attention.

It was expected.

After all, he wasn't just any student.

He was the son of Gareth Drakethorne.

The Overlord of the Labyrinth.

His name carried weight, expectations, and an unspoken pressure that had shadowed him his entire life.

Ethan felt Selene shift beside him.

She nudged his arm. "You're acting really calm."

He tilted his head. "Should I be nervous?"

She smirked, folding her arms. "Most people would be."

Ethan chuckled, his expression lazy but confident. "I guess I'm not 'most people'."

Selene rolled her eyes. "Of course, you'd say something like that."

Still, despite her teasing, she was watching him closely.

Waiting.

The next name was about to be announced.

Ethan exhaled slowly, his fingers briefly flexing at his sides.

Then—

The instructor cleared her throat, her voice carrying through the silent arena.

"Next— Ethan Drakethorne!"

The air stilled.

For a moment, it felt like even the wind had stopped moving.

All eyes turned toward him.

A hush fell over the crowd—not out of curiosity, but sheer anticipation.

This wasn't just another student's turn.

This was the son of a man who conquered Labyrinths, commanded armies, and shaped the very structure of power in their world.

The weight of legacy. The pressure of expectations.

Ethan met the collective stares with unshaken indifference.

Then—without hesitation—

He stepped forward.