Twilight Academy—known across the cultivation world as the cradle of legends. Floating above the Eternal Sky Vein, it accepted only the brightest of the elite: peerless nobles, rare-bloodline geniuses, and monstrous commoners who defied logic.
But not everyone admitted was welcomed.
Han Li stepped through the grand gates, unnoticed among the brilliance. Students rode flying swords, spirit beasts, and glowing chariots. Teachers in white and gold barked orders from jade towers. All carried pride like armor.
A gatekeeper handed Han Li a sealed scroll.
> "Instructor Han Li. Assigned to Class D, Room 9. Status: Low priority. Students: Rejected."
Han Li read without expression and walked deeper into the academy, past statues of former saints, gardens wrapped in spiritual fog, and shrines to celestial emperors.
His class? Buried at the farthest edge of campus—an abandoned dojo surrounded by weeds.
Inside, six students waited.
Each had a story the academy didn't want.
A fox-eyed girl from a fallen sect known for soul magic.
A boy with a cursed bloodline sealed inside a coffin.
A noble heir whose clan betrayed the empire.
Others wore scars—some on skin, some deeper.
They were the "rejected"—too dangerous, too unstable, or simply too poor.
"Another washed-up teacher?" one sneered. "What are you, a janitor?"
Han Li's broom tapped once.
They all dropped to their knees.
"I am your Instructor. That is all you need to know."
The students trembled. No one had ever silenced them so effortlessly.
Han Li looked out the cracked window at the blood-tinged sky.
Only he could feel it—the ancient stir beneath the earth.
The Sky-Eater was waking. But no one else knew. Not yet.
And this group of broken misfits… might be his only chance to stop it.