The difference between A-rank and S-rank is clearly distinguished by an indicator in-game.
Level.
No matter how much an A-rank character levels up, they cannot surpass level 89.
While this is due in part to the game mechanics defining rank thresholds by level, there’s also a distinct, qualitative gap between A-rank and S-rank.
One might scoff and say, “What’s the big deal about just one level?”
But to ascend from level 89 to level 90, the core of one’s being must undergo a transformation referred to as ‘Awakening.’
In other words, S-rank cannot be achieved simply by accumulating experience and leveling up conventionally.
So, how does one reach S-rank?
Is it through the experience of defeating S-rank monsters?
Absorbing an S-rank core?
Taking on trials created by S-rank entities and overcoming them?
There are various paths, but the game introduces an event called ‘Enlightenment.’
Through moments of crisis, the player and their companions undergo awakening, allowing them to transcend into true S-rank status.
Of course, one must first level up to at least 89 before attempting any awakening. But once S-rank is achieved, the world itself appears different.
I know this firsthand.
As someone whose core has risen from E-rank to S-rank and beyond, I’ve personally experienced how awakening alters one’s perception of reality.
Therefore, I can say with certainty.
Though I sympathize with Ludmila, my decision to accompany Instructor Esta to the sealed Earth Tower and enter without hesitation is not unfounded.
Slash.
With each swing of her sword, the monster’s body is cleaved. Its once impenetrable skull splits into countless shards, while her strikes slice through the brain as though it were tofu.
Slash.
Instructor Esta leaps gracefully, stepping on the heads of the monsters. Using their inability to jump effectively, she dances across their forms, wielding her blade with precision.
Slash.
Her crescent-shaped, luminous white slashes descend like moonlight, severing necks and leaving explosive impact upon hitting the ground.
‘This is really amazing.’
I had seen Instructor Esta fight before, during my initial fall into this world from the Demon World. Her entrance atop a unicorn, mowing down monsters in a single charge, was a sight to behold.
Yet, compared to now, that seemed like mere warm-up.
Slash, Slash, Slash!
With every swing of her sword, silver arcs of light cut through the monsters, cleaving them cleanly. The sheer number of monsters made it seem like the increase in sword swings was inevitable, yet Instructor Esta felled one monster with each precise strike.
Watching the mechanical precision of her movements and the seamless flow of mana, I began to understand why Ludmila held such deep reverence for Esta.
‘She uses exactly the amount of mana needed to kill.’
There was no overkill.
If an A-Rank monster required 10 units of mana to be killed, she used exactly 10 units with unerring accuracy. There were no flashy wide-area attacks wasting excessive mana.
Even if it took longer, she ensured each strike was thorough and deliberate.
If the monsters weren’t part of a trial designed with the Four Founders’ mechanics—programmed to kill anything containing traces of angelic abilities—they might have fled in terror, witnessing their comrades fall.
For any living creature, the approach of death is a primal fear.
To these monsters, Instructor Esta was nothing short of a reaper.
Slash.
The 400th and final strike, a radiant white slash.
Perhaps for dramatic effect, Instructor Esta executed her final attack right before me. The monster was cleaved from head to tail along its spine by the brilliant white blow.
The 400 corpses now lying on the ground told the full story of why Esta was known as the White Sword Saint.
It made clear why, despite her sometimes unorthodox behavior in the Old School Building, the faculty dared not cross her, why she was chosen to lead the Academy’s special class, and why she was considered unparalleled in combat.
“I’ve cut down unnecessary things again.”
Instructor Esta dismissed her aura blade, brushing off the remaining mana with a casual flick of her hand. It wasn’t arrogance, but a calculated conservation of mana for adversaries yet to appear.
“I suppose I’ll have to apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?”
“I’ve killed all the A-Rank monsters here.”
Esta smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of her head.
“Ludmila was planning on getting revenge, but I hunted them all down.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Why not?”
“Unless you clear the seventh floor directly, they’ll just respawn. It’s part of the system.”
“…”
Her expression darkened slightly at my response.
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“It’s how it works here. If you want to complain, take it up with the Four Founders.”
“And not you?”
“I’m not one of the Four Founders.”
In truth, complaints about such mechanics should be directed at the game developers who set up this system. However, neither the developers nor the Four Founders can be immediately summoned to patch the issue on command.
If such a patch were to be implemented, it would require interference with the persistent mana seals that govern this Tower. Only a being with the ability to manipulate such enduring constructs could enact such a change.
For instance, someone like the Demon of Continuity.
Without the guidance of ‘Jiryun’, who brought humanity the miracle of Magic Pants, this trial will regenerate demonic beasts if we leave without completing it.
“Let me ask seriously, since no one else is here. How do you know all of this?”
“If I said it was divine revelation, would you believe me?”
“Do you think it’s wise to withhold crucial information until it’s convenient to share, only to reveal it later?”
“At least for now, yes.”
Instructor Esta didn’t deny it.
It couldn’t be helped; this mental space connects our minds, allowing for more vivid emotions to be shared—making lies impossible.
“Having information to hide means it’s not the right time for people to handle it. If it’s something they should know, I’ll tell them—just as I’ve shared much knowledge, details about this trial, and other information during the first semester of the Academy.”
“Then when is the right time? When you graduate? Or earlier?”
“When one becomes S-rank, like you, Instructor Esta, and is capable of ascending the Tower of Trials?”
“Then I have the qualifications to hear some of what you know.”
“Perhaps. But that remains unproven, doesn’t it?”
I gestured ahead.
“Convenient timing—it’s here.”
Kiaaaak!!
Beyond the pile of 400 slain demonic beasts, a massive creature roared, emerging into view.
“An S-rank beast, [Trigera Saurus].”
Its body, nearly 50 meters long, was a colossal, armored drake.
Its head bore a shield-like shape, reminiscent of a dinosaur but more akin to a dragon in appearance.
“…So 500 years ago, such beasts roamed the plains?”
“Yes. And in terms of danger, this was considered among the weakest.”
“From where I stand, you seem more dangerous.”
Instructor Esta smirked, summoning her Aura Blade.
“If you’re not improvising its name and aren’t from 500 years ago, you’ve somehow unraveled all of these trials, haven’t you?”
“That’s about right.”
I covered my eyes.
“These eyes… they can see mana lines.”
“?!”
“Think of it as something akin to emotion magic. Since this space is a mana-constructed trial, I can perceive the ‘information’ that composes the demonic beasts here.”
“Information…”
“The combat experience of the Four Founders is embedded in the mana used to create the beasts. That’s how I can see it.”
Forming a rectangle with my hands as if framing a picture, I pointed at the S-rank beast.
“Its danger level… on a mana scale, it’s ’95.’ The upper threshold of S-rank.”
Level 95.
Even in this era, a creature at the peak of S-rank would require multiple S-rank individuals to stand a chance.
“If the White Sword Saint can defeat such a beast alone, they’re qualified to learn the truths of this world. But the truths will be steeped in despair and hopelessness.”
“Then the answer is simple.”
Instructor Esta placed a hand on her waist, bending slightly forward like preparing for a draw.
“If only the mentally prepared can accept the truth, then I’ll steel myself to climb this tower.”
“Indeed.”
“Then bear witness—to my resolve.”
The moment Instructor Esta stepped forward—
“White Flash.”
A brilliant streak of white light gleamed briefly.
Swish.
Instructor Esta appeared near the beast’s tail, while the creature froze in place.
500 years had passed.
The Four Founders and heroes had culled many S-rank beasts, reducing their threat. Yet even after 500 years, individuals capable of matching them still emerged.
Fwoosh!
Instructor Esta was one such individual.
Her strike had severed a creature that even S-rank aura blades struggled to scratch.
She wasn’t known as Heroine No. 11, [Purity Apocalypse], for no reason.
Being the number 1 heroine and end of the adult group, not a student, means that she has a body with incredible talent.
“Bravo.”
I applauded her feat.
“Congratulations on clearing the first floor of the Trial of the Earth.”
“…Phoenix.”
In an instant, Instructor Esta closed the distance between us.
“I have many questions, though I suspect you won’t answer all of them.”
“Likely not.”
“Then I’ll limit myself to those you can answer.”
With a serious expression, she pointed at me.
“What lies at the end of this trial?”
“Hell. And…”
I wouldn’t lie.
“A 17-heroine harem ending.”
No lies.
“…What nonsense are you spouting?”
“It’s the truth.”
Only those who conquer the Demon World can achieve the 17-heroine harem ending.
“Oh, was this the kind of answer you were hoping for?”
I was definitely considerate.
“The trials that the Fourth Founders created to prepare for what will actually be coming down from above?”
“…!”
“In celebration of clearing the first floor, I’ll tell you this much.”
As I stepped closer, Instructor Esta instinctively took a step back, but I grabbed her wrist, pressing her hand against my chest.
“The Goddess despises, hates, and wishes to obliterate men.”
