Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

The beast gear room buzzed with nervous energy as students streamed in, eyes darting from the rows of neatly arranged gear to each other. Noah, standing near the back with Kelvin, kept his expression neutral, but inside, his mind churned.

’Category One beast gears,’ he thought, scanning the equipment laid out before them. Polished helmets, reinforced chest plates, gauntlets, and boots—everything designed for defense without sacrificing too much agility. The glint of alloyed materials hinted at added durability, but Noah knew better than to assume invincibility.

”Why does it feel like they’re gearing us up for war?” Kelvin muttered beside him, arms crossed and lips set in a tight line. ”This is just training, right?”

Noah’s brow lifted slightly. ”It’s not just training. Brooks wouldn’t be here if it was. This is an assessment.”

Kelvin sighed, rolling his shoulders. ”Great. More ways to remind us we’re barely keeping up with the Class 1A prodigies.”

At that moment, Miss Brooks strode into view, her sharp heels clicking against the polished floor. The hum of conversation fell silent as she positioned herself at the center of the room, her gaze sweeping across the gathered students.

”Listen up!” Her voice sliced through the quiet, commanding attention. ”Before you pick your gear, there are a few things you need to understand about today’s exercise.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. ”What you see here are Category One beast gears. They are durable, lightweight, and designed for combat at your current level of skill and strength. While they will offer significant protection, these are not invincible, nor are they toys. Treat them as an extension of yourself, and they may just save your life out there.”

Kelvin let out a low whistle. ”Save our lives? Sounds promising.”

Noah didn’t respond. He was already cataloging the information. ’Category One means entry-level protection. Durable enough for low-tier beasts but not for anything beyond that. This isn’t about surviving—it’s about proving we can thrive under pressure.’

Miss Brooks continued, her tone growing sharper. ”This exercise will serve as a continuous assessment. You will form groups of four. The team that retrieves the most beast cores will score the highest and earn a special bonus. Keep in mind that these groups will remain consistent for all future assignments this semester.”

Murmurs rippled through the room.

Brooks held up a hand to silence them. ”Choose your teammates carefully. By the semester’s end, the lowest-scoring group will be demoted to Class 1C. The highest-scoring group, meanwhile, will be promoted to Class 1A.”

Kelvin stiffened. ”Did she say demoted?”

”Yup,” Noah said quietly, watching the flicker of panic dart across several faces around them. ’This isn’t just an exercise—it’s a chance to shift the hierarchy. A carrot for ambition and a stick for the underperformers.’

A voice from the crowd piped up. ”But isn’t the whole first year participating? What about students already in Class 1A? Are they competing too?”

Miss Brooks smiled faintly, the kind that made Noah’s stomach knot. ”An excellent question. Yes, Class 1A, 1B, and 1C are all part of this exercise. Promotions and demotions will be based on your group performance. As for students in 1A, if they excel beyond expectation, they won’t be promoted—there’s no Year 2 class waiting for them. Instead, they will receive... special rewards.”

Another student raised their hand. ”What kind of rewards?”

Brooks tilted her head, her smile deepening. ”You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Kelvin groaned under his breath. ”Why do teachers always have to be so cryptic?”

”They want to dangle the mystery like bait,” Noah replied, his tone dry. ’If I had to guess, the rewards will be tailored to their individual strengths—custom gear, private tutoring, maybe even an early mission deployment.’

Miss Brooks’ voice interrupted his thoughts. ”Based on the aptitude tests you took earlier, each class’s collective strength has been gauged. The areas you will be sent to have been calculated to match your capabilities. The beasts you’ll face are within your range but will still require strategy and teamwork to overcome. Do not underestimate them.”

Noah leaned slightly toward Kelvin. ”She’s saying we won’t die unless we do something stupid.”

Kelvin huffed. ”Great. Let’s hope stupidity isn’t contagious.”

Brooks continued, ”The previous third set, now Year Three students, currently hold the highest record for beast core retrieval. The academy is eager to see if this year’s group can surpass it.”

”What’s the record?” a voice called out.

Miss Brooks didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned toward the double doors leading out of the room and gave a curt nod. The sound of footsteps echoed, drawing all eyes to the entrance.

Noah narrowed his gaze. ’She’s about to show us exactly what we’re up against.’

The heavy double doors creaked open, and two figures stepped in. A murmur rippled through the room like a gust of wind before a storm. All eyes snapped to the crests emblazoned on their chests—a mark reserved only for the academy’s elite.

”No way,” Kelvin muttered, leaning toward Noah. ”They brought in them?”

Noah didn’t respond immediately, his gaze narrowing on the duo. The boy, tall and broad-shouldered with a shaved head, walked in like he owned the damn place. His smirk wasn’t just cocky—it was the kind of look that said he woke up every morning knowing he was better than you, and if you disagreed, that was your problem. The tray in his hands might as well have been a crown, the way he carried it.

Beside him was the a girl every recruit probably knew. She was slender but commanding, she moved with the kind of precision that made her seem untouchable. Her grey eyes, sharp and unforgiving, scanned the room like she was mentally sorting everyone into piles: tolerable and trash. The dark eyeshadow framing her gaze gave her a gothic vibe, and some of the guys—most of the guys, if Noah was being honest—were already undressing her in their heads.

Average build, sure, but there wasn’t much about her you could actually call average. Her chest wasn’t huge, but it was enough to make someone notice—and clearly, some were noticing. Her miniskirt didn’t help matters either, sitting one thread short of giving up entirely and turning into underwear. Noah caught a few guys elbowing each other, whispering with grins plastered across their faces.

’Classy,’ he thought, rolling his eyes.

Kelvin nudged him. ”Ice Queen herself, huh? What do you think? Intimidating or overrated?”

Noah smirked. ”Perfect for the role of ’woman who stabs you mid-hookup.’ But hey, maybe that’s your thing.”

Kelvin snorted. ”I’ll pass. Besides, you know half these guys are already mentally casting her in their personal R-rated fantasies.”

Noah glanced around the room, noting the not-so-subtle stares from some of their classmates. ”Yeah, well, at least they’re consistent. One glance at that skirt, and their brains went straight to NSFW.”

”Can’t blame them,” Kelvin muttered. ”It’s like she came out of some goth magazine’s ’Hottest Ice Princess’ edition.”

Noah’s eyes flicked back to her. ’Looks like the kind who doesn’t just break hearts—she stomps on the pieces for fun,’

Meanwhile, the bald guy smirked at the room, his tray held high like some sacred offering. Noah couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, ”Someone needs to tell this guy he’s not auditioning for the role of Supreme Douchebag.”

Kelvin choked back a laugh. ”Nah, man, he’d get the part easy. Look at him—smug bastard probably practices that smirk in the mirror every morning.”

”Bet he’s got a playlist for it,” Noah shot back, his grin widening.

The duo, oblivious to—or maybe reveling in—the murmurs, finally stopped in the center of the room, their presence commanding attention. Noah leaned back against a wall behind a wall of students in front of him, arms crossed, and whispered to Kelvin, ”Showtime.”

”Number five and number three,” someone whispered.

”The Ice Queen...” another voice trailed off.

Miss Brooks waited for the murmurs to die down before addressing the room. ”I’m sure you all recognize these two. Allow me to formally introduce them. On my left is Micah Reed, ranked fifth among the academy’s top 25 students. And to my right, we have Sienna Voss, ranked third and widely known as the Ice Queen.”

Kelvin let out a low whistle. ”Third and fifth? They don’t mess around.”

Noah crossed his arms, studying Sienna. ’Colder in person than the stories, huh? Hard to imagine anyone wanting to get close enough to test that theory.’

Miss Brooks gestured toward the pair. ”The academy’s top 25 are revered for a reason. They are considered the best of the best, acknowledged even by the headmaster himself. Their dedication to excellence is rewarded with special treatment—private dorms, exclusive meals, personalized training regimens, and the best resources the academy has to offer. Excellence is always rewarded here, and it is the spirit of this reward system that drives today’s exercise.”

Kelvin nudged Noah. ”Special meals? Think they get steak while we’re stuck with mystery meat?”

Noah scoffed under his breath. ”Probably. They’re basically royalty.”

Miss Brooks’ gaze hardened. ”Let me make something very clear. Those in Class 1A, passing this assessment is expected. There will be no special promotions or celebrations because that is the standard of excellence they are held to.”

Noah’s jaw tightened. ’So, the rest of us need carrots on sticks to stay motivated? What a joke.’ He let his eyes wander across the room, noting the tension among his classmates.

’This isn’t about fostering growth—it’s about separating the dogs from the wolves. The strong get stronger while the rest of us jump through hoops for scraps.’