Standing before Leylin was the enigmatic Rhea Allen.
Rhea quickly recomposed herself, lowering her eyes and offering a noble bow. "Teacher Alistair, I found myself confused by a contradiction between your previous lecture and today's lesson. If you do not mind, I would like to ask a question."
"Go ahead, dear. I am listening," Leylin replied, offering a reassuring smile.
"In our first class, you stated that hard work can overcome aptitude," Rhea began, biting her lower lip slightly as she looked up. "Yet today, you explained that some individuals are simply born with superior talent, and that a standard empire lacks the foundation to ever rear a true powerhouse. If only the Four Great Dynasties possess that capability... does that mean the rest of us are destined to remain bottom feeders? What is the purpose of striving so hard if the ceiling is already sealed? What is the point of effort?"
There was genuine confusion and vulnerability in her gaze. To Leylin, it was immediately clear that she was not truly questioning his pedagogy; she was undergoing a quiet crisis of self-doubt.
"The world is fundamentally unfair," Leylin said with a light sigh, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "I would be the first to admit it. Some people spend their entire lives scraping through the dirt only to die in poverty, while others inherit immense wealth at birth without lifting a finger. It is a harsh, indifferent reality. However..."
Leylin looked at her, his expression turning bright and warm. "Remember this: while working hard does not guarantee you will reach your goals, refusing to work hard guarantees you never will. Believe in yourself. And if you cannot bring yourself to do that right now, then believe in the me who believes in you. You are brilliant, Rhea."
He delivered the motivational speech shamelessly, feeling a faint trace of internal irony as the words left his mouth.
Preaching the virtues of hard work to a teenager was somewhat absurd coming from someone with his background.
Leylin was a Rank 3 Warlock under fifty years old, possessing strength that rivaled a peak Crystal Phase Rank 3 Magus. He commanded an army of high-tier summons, had created Astral Requiem, and was currently studying and researching an entire foreign world while his followers attempt to conquer the Twilight Zone.
In terms of talent, Leylin was not merely a genius; he operated in a category entirely of his own.
Hearing his words, Rhea's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She quickly wiped them away, nodding with sudden, intense vigor. Bowing deeply once more, she turned and hurried down the stone hallway.
Leylin watched her retreating figure, a subtle purple light flashing across his pupils as he activated his perception spells.
'As expected, her sea of consciousness carries a soul imprint as well.' Leylin analyzed. 'And this one is at least at the Brigadier Stage(Rank 3).'
Unlike the one within Lita, this soul imprint contained an aggressive, lethal intent backed by an advanced level of soul manipulation.
'A Brigadier-stage entity represents a level of power exclusive to the Four Great Dynasties.' Leylin calculated. 'The empires are essentially vassal hounds raised by those dominant factions. Why is an someone tied to a Brigadier-stage powerhouse attending an academy in a minor empire?'
As his gaze remained fixed on her back, his pupils shifted from deep purple to a stark, brilliant white, peering directly into the ethereal energy overflowing from her.
'More importantly, the strands of fate are swirling heavily around her.' Leylin thought, a smirk touching his lips as the white light faded. 'Another child of destiny... How amusing.'
Retracting his vision, Leylin turned and resumed his walk toward the administrative tower to complete his scheduled business.
Leylin pushed open the door to the principal's private quarters.
The outer suite served as a formal waiting room, equipped with comfortable leather couches, fresh refreshments, and an administrative secretary. Upon his entry, the receptionist stood up immediately, offering a polite bow.
"Teacher Alistair, Principal Henry is expecting you. Please go right in," she said softly.
The attendant was a young blonde woman with sharp, attractive features and a fitted uniform that accentuated her figure. She offered Leylin a coy smile, stealing a subtle glance as he walked past her desk toward the inner sanctum.
Leylin gave her a brief nod before knocking twice on the heavy wooden door.
"Come in!" a deep, authoritative voice sounded from within, aged yet carrying the quiet weight of one of the empire's senior figures.
Leylin opened the door and stepped inside. The office was sparse and functional, devoid of ostentatious decorations. The walls were lined with simple wooden bookshelves, historical treatises, and framed military commendations from the empire's early campaigns.
"I must admit, Principal, your taste in staff is commendable," Leylin said informally, walking across the room toward the visitor's chair. He sat down casually, glancing at the brass smoking pipe resting on the mahogany desk. "And your taste in tobacco appears equally refined."
Keith Henry chuckled, the deep wrinkles around his eyes creasing as he looked up from his papers, "Ah, friend Lucian. I am hardly young enough to pursue such matters. She is merely the daughter of an old colleague, essentially a niece to me. Though if she catches your interest, you have my full blessing to pursue her."
The principal opened a small carved cabinet beside his desk, retrieving a second unlit pipe along with a tin of aged leaf.
Using a small silver spoon, he carefully scooped a precise blend of dried herbs and dark tobacco into the bowl, tamping it down with practiced movements.
"How are you finding the Elite Class?" Keith asked, handing the freshly packed pipe across the desk to Leylin. "With an instructor of your caliber guiding them, I sleep much easier knowing their development is in good hands."
Keith struck a match, lighting Leylin's pipe first before igniting his own. Leylin took a slow puff, leaning back into the soft leather cushion and resting his boots directly onto the edge of the principal's desk.
Keith simply exhaled a stream of aromatic gray smoke, his expression entirely serene despite the casual breach of etiquette.
Their rapport had been established 2 years prior, after the Greg family used a favor to secure "Lucian Alister" a position at the academy.
When Keith Henry, a long-time ally of the Greg clan patriarch first met Leylin Farlier, he had been shaken by the overwhelming, unmeasurable depth of the his presence.
Recognizing an entity whose true power probably far exceeded the Captain Stage, Keith had chosen complete cooperation over hostility, granting Leylin's follower Lucian Alistair total academic freedom in exchange for mutual access to information and political prestige.
Over several private meetings, both men had traded valuable insights. Leylin found Keith's decades of experiences intresting, while Keith was repeatedly stunned by Lucian's grasp of energy mechanics and innovative Beast Tamer theory.
"Would you care for a glass of brandy?" Keith offered smoothly, gesturing toward a crystal decanter on the side table.
His face radiated the gentle, benevolent warmth of a kindly elder. However, Leylin's eyes remained completely unfooled.
As a Dark Magus, he easily recognized the lingering aura of a man who had spilled oceans of blood to reach his position; their working relationship was built entirely on cold, mutual utility.
Leylin tapped his fingers rhythmically against his knee, setting the pipe aside.
"No," Leylin said, his tone shifting into a direct, businesslike cadence. "Let us speak of important matters, Principal Keith."