The perspective shifted far from the noisy square—to a private room, where a man with a thick beard sat in front of a monitor.
This was Master Holloway, one of the most feared and respected combat instructors in all of Ravenshade University.
His rugged fingers drummed on the desk as he stared at the ongoing broadcast of the rankings.
The entire event was being livestreamed across Ravenshade, and Holloway, curious about Lily Winters, had tuned in early.
At first, when the two SS-ranked students from No. 1 Middle School appeared on screen, he scoffed.
"What a waste of SS-level potential," he muttered.
But then a new recruit from No. 2 Middle School appeared—and actually surpassed the two SS-ranked students in raw power.
Holloway raised an eyebrow, now intrigued.
"Hmm… not bad. An S-rank student with combat power like that? Acceptable."
He leaned forward slightly, arms crossed.
"Thin kid, though. Let's see if he can handle my kind of training."
Next up was Fairwind.
Holloway's lips curled into a grin. "He's arrogant... but I like his attitude."
If there was a chance, Holloway wouldn't mind recruiting Fairwind either.
Finally, the moment he had waited for—Lily Winters.
Her combat power showed up on screen.
76 points.
BANG!
The desk nearly cracked under the force of Holloway's excited fist.
"I knew it!" he bellowed. "My instincts are never wrong. She's a rare one."
Then his tone turned contemplative.
"Though… Ravenshade might not be able to hold her. That could be a problem."
Holloway was known as the most intense, demanding instructor in the entire university—and also the most avoided. In five years, he hadn't had a single student graduate under him.
Fifty students had quit his course, unable to survive the pressure. He'd become something of a joke among his peers, but Holloway never changed his ways.
"I'm not the one who's wrong," he often said. "They just weren't worthy."
His logic was simple: once he compromised, he admitted that his methods were flawed—and that wasn't an option.
What he needed wasn't softer teaching. He needed a student with the will to endure it.
And now? Lily Winters might be that student.
As Holloway mused about ways to lure her into his program, the screen flashed again—Ethan's name appeared.
801 combat power.
Holloway's smile froze.
"...Huh?"
He double-checked.
"You've got to be kidding me."
But then he noticed the label.
Class: Beast Master.
Holloway relaxed slightly.
"Oh. That explains it."
He leaned back.
"This kid's loaded. Probably dumped millions into building a small army of beasts."
He smirked. "All that just to claim first place? What a waste of money."
"Could've bought ten cars with that."
But as the broadcast continued, Holloway's interest returned.
He leaned forward again. "Still… he's controlling multiple gold-tier beasts? That's not easy. Must be a talent perk—probably no limit on how many he can summon."
"Fitting for someone with more money than sense."
But when the camera zoomed in on Ethan's face, Holloway's jaw dropped.
"Wait a second…"
"That's the brat who rode in my car!"
His hand slammed down again.
"I knew his name sounded familiar! That smug little punk tried to exchange my favor for three million gold!"
"And after that? He deleted the account! Just vanished!"
Holloway growled. "He clearly looks down on me. Next time we meet, he's going to regret that."
Still fuming, he watched as Fairwind stepped forward, slashing himself open at the start of the battle.
"Now that's the kind of reckless madness I can appreciate," Holloway muttered, nodding in approval.
Then, the screen shifted again.
**No summoned beasts appeared. Instead, Ethan used a pure spell—**one so strong it buried ten students in a sandstorm in seconds.
"Wait… what?"
Holloway sat forward again.
"He didn't even use his beasts?"
He reviewed the footage.
"His spirit power is that high? What a waste—using that much spirit just to be a Beast Master?"
As the last grains of sand settled onscreen, Holloway spat out a curse.
"What kind of trash are these other students? Can't even force him to summon?"
RING~
His phone buzzed.
Holloway sighed and picked up.
"Hello?"
"I just got back from a mission—what now?"
"I found a few good seedlings. I was planning to poach them…"
"Wait. What? A mission from the organization?"
"After five years?! I thought you all forgot about me!"
There was a pause. Holloway's face went pale.
"...Are you sure the intel is real?"
"Alright. I'll leave now."
Click.
All the joking disappeared from his face.
In one fluid motion, he leapt out the window, landed on the rooftop, and darted toward the city center without even taking his car.
---
Meanwhile, back at the square, Ethan had just rejoined the group when Fairwind suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Let's go," he said with a grin.
"Huh? Where are we going?"
"You gave me a skill book. It's only fair I return the favor," Fairwind explained. "But I don't know what kind you'd want, so I figured—take you to the vault and let you pick."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "A skill book? Really? I mean… I'm kinda loaded now."
But he also knew how stubborn Fairwind was.
If he refused, the guy would probably nag him every day until the end of the year.
"…Alright. Let's go."
The two left the square and hopped into Fairwind's sleek, custom-designed luxury car.
In the passenger seat, Ethan still looked unsure.
"You don't really mean the City Lord's treasure vault, do you?"
Fairwind gave him a sly look. "Why not? I know the City Lord's out today."
He turned to his chauffeur. "Uncle Butler, to the vault. Fast. We'll be in and out."
"But the City Lord—" the butler started.
"Relax! We're only borrowing a little space. Ethan will pick one skill book and we'll leave. Easy."
Ethan slumped back in his seat. "Why not take me to a store like Darunhua and just pay for a scroll there?"
"Too casual," Fairwind replied. "The skill you gave me fit perfectly. I can't repay that with something random."
Soon, the high-rises faded away. Towering trees replaced the skyline as they entered a more private district.
Despite being called a "mansion," the City Lord's estate was more like a luxury woodland fortress.
The car coasted past layer after layer of magical defenses and gates, finally pulling up to a stone-paved courtyard in front of a massive manor.
Fairwind motioned Ethan and the butler to follow him.
"Come on—we'll be in and out before anyone even notices."
As they tiptoed through the halls, Ethan frowned.
"Fairwind… don't you think it's a bit too quiet in here?"
Fairwind shrugged. "Quiet's good. Less people, less trouble. We grab what we need and disappear!"
Ethan sighed.
Why does every good idea with this guy always feel like a crime?
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