Shattered Sanity

For a while after finishing his explanation regarding Aether and Ascension, Garron simply stood there silently while observing the gathered children, as he gave them a few moments to slowly process the knowledge he had just shared with them.

Small conversations quickly began breaking out among children already familiar with one another, as many spoke excitedly about becoming powerful Ascendants in the future while others enthusiastically discussed which type of Aether they hoped to resonate with someday.

Meanwhile, within the underprivileged group, the atmosphere remained noticeably quieter.

Most kept to themselves while avoiding eye contact with the others nearby, as years of neglect and ridicule had already conditioned many of them into staying silent whenever possible.

As only a few minutes later, Garron began speaking once more.

”Okay.... So before I start training you lot tomorrow, I first need to segregate you into three categories.

I call them— Trash, Super Trash and Ultra Trash.

Because, regardless of how well you perform, all mortals are trash in my eyes.”

He explained while looking down toward the children with complete indifference, as though he genuinely did not care about any single one of them beyond whatever potential usefulness they might possess.

”Depending on what group you’re placed in, the intensity and duration of your training regimen will differ.

Because, while it may take only six hours of hard work for a trash grade talent to achieve progress, it may take eighteen for an ultra trash to bring the same results.

Which is why, I suggest you all try your best to be placed in the trash category, because if not, your life will become even harder starting tomorrow....”

Garron warned before suddenly snapping his fingers loudly.

*Snap*

*Snap*

”Form a single queue, and one by one come and punch my palm as hard as you can.

For those of you who don’t know how to punch, let me show you once....

The power is generated from your hips, you plant your legs, twist your hips, and throw a punch with all the strength of your upper torso.”

Garron demonstrated the movement slowly while the children watched with rapt attention, as several had already begun imitating his stance instinctively while trying to memorize every detail of his motion.

”Depending on how hard you hit, I’ll assign a grade to you.....

So on my signal, start approaching me.”

He said, as the children immediately began forming a queue afterward, with the legitimate children naturally gathering toward the front while the underprivileged group quietly lined up behind them, leaving nearly five feet of distance separating both sides despite nobody openly instructing them to do so.

”Alright then....

One by one, step forward and punch my palm as hard as you possibly can.

Don’t hold back either, because if any of you little bastards intentionally try to hide your strength from me, I’ll make sure you regret it once training starts tomorrow.”

He warned, as almost immediately, the guy standing at the front of the queue stepped forward.

”I’ll show you all how it’s done!”

He muttered cockily, as many around Riven recognised him instantly.

”That’s Buldak, the chief’s eldest son....

While behind him is Valdak, his second born.”

Someone around Riven said, as Buldak planted his feet, twisted his hips and punched exactly how Garron had demonstrated.

*Tap*

A soft sound echoed the moment his fist struck Garron’s palm, as the recruiter did not even move an inch at the punch.

”Trash,” Garron declared instantly before shifting his eyes toward the younger brother standing behind him.

”Next.”

The moment that verdict left Garron’s mouth, Buldak’s entire expression lit up with excitement while pride immediately spread across his face.

Because despite the insulting nature of the grading system itself, everyone present had already realized that Trash was currently the highest category available.

Valdak stepped forward immediately afterward.

His punch landed slightly weaker than his brother’s, however, the verdict still remained the same.

”Trash.

Next.”

Garron said, as the younger boy still grinned proudly while stepping aside beside Buldak afterward as though he had just achieved something worthy of admiration.

From there, the line began moving rapidly.

One privileged child after another stepped forward confidently before punching Garron’s palm with varying levels of strength and technique.

”Trash.”

”Trash.”

”Trash.”

The same verdict repeated itself constantly while Garron showed surprising leniency toward almost every well-dressed child standing among the legitimate members of the tribe.

Even those whose punches looked unimpressive still somehow managed receiving the Trash grade regardless.

As only a rare few children who threw especially pathetic punches received the Super and Ultra Trash category instead, as the atmosphere among them gradually became increasingly relaxed as confidence spread visibly throughout their ranks.

However, the moment the underprivileged children finally began stepping forward, the mood of the field changed completely.

The first bastard approached Garron nervously while keeping his head lowered toward the ground before eventually planting his feet and throwing his punch with everything he had.

Riven noticed the desperation hidden behind that strike instantly, as he could see how the boy was trying to prove something.....

Trying to prove that he was not weak.

Trying to prove that he deserved to stand there just as much as the others did.

And honestly, his punch looked stronger than many delivered by the privileged children earlier.

*Smack*

The punch hit hard, however, instead of giving him the ’Trash’ grade—

”Ultra Trash!”

Garron declared emotionlessly.

”Huh?”

The boy said in shock, while behind him, several privileged children immediately began chuckling quietly among themselves, as they looked down toward the underprivileged group with mocking amusement shining across their faces.

”Weak lowborns....”

They muttered, as though that result alone had somehow validated the superiority of their bloodline.

As they giggled and felt good about themselves by watching the misery of others.

”Next.”

Garron demanded, as another bastard child stepped forward.

*SMACK*

Another hard punch landed, this one arguably the best that anyone had threw yet, and yet—

”Ultra Trash.”

The same pattern repeated itself again.

”Next....”

Garron called, as from that moment onwards the same result began repeating on loop, as regardless of whether the child standing before Garron was male or female, bastard or slave, strong or weak, nearly every single member of the underprivileged group continued receiving the lowest possible grade no matter how hard they punched, while only a very small number managed to reach the Super Trash category.

By that point, even many among the underprivileged children themselves had begun lowering their heads with defeated expressions while the atmosphere around their side gradually became heavier and more humiliating with every passing minute.

Eventually, it finally became Riven’s turn.

He slowly stepped forward before Garron while feeling countless eyes land upon his thin frame from every direction.

Then quietly, he planted his legs exactly the way Garron had demonstrated earlier.

Twisted his hips.

And threw his punch.

However, instead of striking with everything he had, Riven deliberately held back nearly half his strength while making sure his fist landed weakly enough to appear unimpressive.

*Tap*

The strike that landed against Garron’s palm felt weaker than even several punches thrown earlier by girls his own age.

As for one brief moment, Garron looked directly into Riven’s eyes silently.

’Are you a masochist, kid?’

Garron wondered, as he could see that Riven deliberately held back, however, a moment later, he decided that confronting the kid was not worth it today, and hence, he simply declared the result and decided to move on with his life.

”Ultra Trash.”

He said, as Riven immediately lowered his head afterward before quietly stepping aside while maintaining the appearance of someone ashamed by the result he had just received.

Yet beneath that lowered gaze, he could barely suppress the satisfaction rising inside his chest.

Because unlike the others standing within the Ultra Trash category, Riven did not care about humiliation.

Nor did he care about the mocking glances coming from the privileged children nearby.

As the only thing that mattered to him was that starting tomorrow, the ultra trash group was going to undergo the most training of any other group.

As for him, that was not punishment, but rather the opportunity to grow stronger that he seeked desperately.

’If I can train for 25 hours a day, I won’t even accept training for 24....’

Riven thought, as letting out a satisfied breath, he waited for Garron to finish sorting all the children.