Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons

Being S-Class as a first-year student automatically made him notable.

Furthermore, news about him being the guild master who triggered a manifestation made him infamous.

A green-uniformed senior stepped directly into his path.

"You're the Power Guild master?" he asked, his tone curious rather than confrontational.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I am."

The senior's face broke into a genuine smile, extending his hand. "It's an honor to meet you. I'm Barron Whitehall, a second-year A-Class. I've been hoping for a chance to introduce myself."

Arthur shook his hand, taking note of the two lines on Barron's badge that marked him as a second-year student.

'He's probably trying to jump on my ship before it sails,' Arthur thought. 'Still, a second-year A-Class student could be useful. Well-connected too,"

"Pleased to meet you, Barron, my name is Azarel," Arthur replied with warmth. "I'm always glad to make connections at the Academy."

Barron's posture relaxed visibly. "Most new S-Class students barely acknowledge anyone in lower ranks. It's refreshing to meet someone different."

"Ranks are temporary. Alliances last," Arthur said. "Unfortunately, I have orientation starting shortly, and I hear the professors here aren't fond of tardiness."

"Of course, I understand completely," Barron stepped aside. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation over lunch? The A-Class dining hall isn't as luxurious as yours, but the food's decent."

"I'd like that. Find me after morning classes."

As Arthur continued toward the S-Class building, he could hear the whispers of students who had watched the exchange.

"Did you see that? Whitehall just scored an in with the new guild master."

"He's quite humble for an S-Class student. I thought he'd be arrogant, especially considering he's a guild master too."

"Maybe S-Class doesn't automatically mean 'complete jerk' this year."

Some of the second year's also watched the interaction.

"Strategic move from Barron. His father has a guild, and they haven't made any progress in recent years. Becoming an ally with the new guild will bring them benefi-"

"But also bring them harm," His friend cut him off.

A yellow-uniformed girl sighed dreamily. "His manners match his looks. The complete package."

Her friend elbowed her. "Don't get any ideas. Rumor has it that the Draketower already claimed the package. They were seen hanging around the academy a couple of days back,"

Arthur kept his face neutral as he heard all this, but inwardly, he was pleased. First impressions were crucial, and he was cultivating exactly the image he needed.

'Powerful but approachable, exclusive but not arrogant.'

...

Arthur soon arrived at the assembly point. All first-years needed to attend before starting classes—a formal event where the headmaster would welcome students and deliver the obligatory motivational speech.

He'd arrived early, giving himself time to assess the environment. The assembly hall was impressive.

It had high ceilings with magical light fixtures, enchanted acoustics to carry sound perfectly to every corner, and a grand stage where the headmaster would give his talk.

But something immediately caught Arthur's attention.

The seating arrangement.

Rows of identical chairs filled the hall.

There were no sections, or divisions.

There was nothing to indicate where each class rank should sit.

Arthur frowned.

'Did they do this on purpose?'

The Academy of Mera prided itself on hierarchy.

It was woven into every aspect.

Whether it was the color-coded uniforms, separate facilities or the resources.

The system wasn't subtle, it was explicit by design.

So the question that begged to be asked was; why would they create a situation with no clear seating protocol?

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he examined the setup more carefully.

'They're creating a social pressure test.'

It was obvious once he thought about it. If a C-rank student sat in the front row, and an S-class student wanted that seat, what would happen? The lower-ranked student would have no official rule to cite. They'd be forced to either yield their position or challenge someone vastly more powerful.

Most would move without argument.

But those who resisted would face consequences, not from the academy or its instructors, who would conveniently avoid intervening, but from the higher-ranked students themselves.

It was a practical lesson in hierarchy, disguised as a simple assembly.

'Clever,' Arthur thought. 'Brutal, but clever.'

The ritual would reinforce everyone's place in the system more effectively than any lecture could.

Lower ranks would internalize their position.

Higher ranks would assert their dominance. And the faculty could claim they'd done nothing to encourage it—after all, they'd provided equal seating for all.

More students began filtering into the hall.

Green, yellow, and red uniforms clustered together, friends finding each other, nervous first-years seeking safety in numbers. They filled seats randomly, unaware of the social minefield they were walking into.

Arthur remained near the entrance, watching.

A loud group of red-uniformed C-rank students claimed the entire front row, laughing and joking.

They sprawled comfortably, tossing their bags on neighbouring seats to save places for friends.

'This will be interesting,' Arthur thought.

He didn't have to wait long.

A trio of yellow-uniformed B-rank students approached the front row.

"Hey, those are our seats," one said, towering over the seated C-ranks.

"We got here first," a brave C-rank replied. "There's plenty of other places to sit."

The B-rank's eyes narrowed. "Do you know who I am?"

"Someone who needs to find another seat?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Other conversations quieted as students sensed conflict.

"Get up right now," the B-rank coldly said. "or, you will regret it."

The C-rank hesitated, suddenly realizing his mistake. In terms of raw power, there was no contest.

Before the situation could escalate further, a group of green-uniformed students entered the lecture hall.

Among them was Sarah Draketower, an A-Class student.

Her sharp eyes immediately landed on the brewing conflict at the front of the room, and she didn't hesitate to step in.

She walked up to the group, her tone edged with irritation. "What are you idiots doing?"

One of the yellow-uniformed students scoffed, arms crossed. "A C-Class trash is taking the front seats. He doesn't know his place. He even tried arguing with me, and told me to take a seat somewhere else"

Sarah's emerald eyes flicked to the red-uniformed students sitting at the front. They had been quiet until now, shifting uncomfortably under her stare.

"Get up and move"

The C-Class students hesitated for a split second before standing without complaint. Despite her short stature, Sarah's power and status were enough to make them move without any protest.

She could kill them all in mere seconds after all.

One of the yellow-uniformed students—the one who had spoken earlier—grinned, already moving to take a seat.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sarah's voice cut through the moment, stopping him in his tracks.

He blinked. "Sitting down?"

She sighed, arms crossed. "Don't even think about it. The front rows are for S-Class students. Unless you want problems with them on your first day, I'd suggest finding another spot."

The B-Class student swallowed hard.

Everyone knew that S-Class students weren't just powerful—they had influence.

Making an enemy of one could ruin a student's future. Without another word, he nodded and moved toward the middle rows, his friends following.

Sarah let out a quiet sigh before taking a seat a few rows behind the very front.

Watching all this unfold, Arthur smiled and casually sat beside her.

"Hey."

Sarah glanced up from her seat, immediately recognizing him.

"Hi," she replied, her tone neutral. "What are you doing here?"

"Sitting down?" He replied.

Sarah leaned back in her chair, unfazed by his directness.

"Were you watching those idiots fight over the front row?"

Arthur nodded.

"You could've stopped them, you know. You're an S-Class yourself."

Arthur's lips curled into a small smile. "Why would I?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't care about your rank?"

He shrugged. "It's not like I want to sit there. I'd rather be here."

Sarah studied him for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether he was being honest or just trying to act unbothered.

After a beat, she simply shrugged. "Your choice. Not like anyone could move you if they tried."

Arthur chuckled at that.

A comfortable silence settled between them, though the quiet hum of students whispering about an S-Class presence filled the lecture hall. He ignored them, instead glancing toward the podium at the front.

"So, when's the headmaster supposed to arrive?" he asked.

Sarah exhaled, stretching her arms over her head. "No clue. Should be soon, though."

"Azarel!"

The voice cut through the murmurs of the hall like a silver bell. Princess Elara stood at the entrance to the row, her golden hair cascading in waves that caught the light, creating an almost ethereal halo effect.

The entire hall fell silent.

Princess Elara wasn't just royal—she was captivating. Her academy uniform, tailored to perfection, accentuated her figure in ways the standard design never could. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence and command, her skin glowed with health that spoke of the finest care money could buy. Even her stance exuded the confidence of someone born to rule.

Every male student stared, transfixed. Every female student straightened, instantly comparing themselves and finding themselves wanting.

The spell broke as whispers erupted throughout the hall.

"Who's Azarel?"

"Did she say Azarel?"

"Is that someone's name or is it her pet?"

Sarah turned to Arthur, eyebrow raised. "She's looking for you."

Arthur kept his expression neutral, though his mind raced.

'Is it a slip? Or deliberate?' He thought, although his intuition leaned towards the latter

Either way, the princess had just created a problem for him.

"I guess she is," He responded to Sarah.