I removed my mask as I left the Association's headquarters. Since its ability to hide my power no longer mattered, there was no reason to wear it—unless, of course, I wanted to keep pests from annoying me.
Yuuki approached me, a massive travel bag slung over his shoulder. He'd clearly followed the instructions I sent in the letter. The size of that thing made it obvious he planned to stay for a few days.
"You're bringing those kids to the festival too, right?" Yuuki asked casually.
"Yes," I replied, my voice steady but commanding. "Now that I've settled matters with Hinata, no one dares to openly challenge me anymore. Small incidents might occur, but nothing I can't crush if needed. I've already secured the necessary measures for security."
The festival in Eterna would host the most powerful figures from across the lands, and I had no intention of allowing even a flicker of chaos to stain it.
Yuuki gave a satisfied nod. "Then I'll allow it. They've been training hard and behaving well lately, so I think it's fair they get a chance to relax."
We hadn't told the kids yet. I preferred to see their raw, unfiltered reaction—a proper surprise. It was better this way than letting them get their hopes up too early.
As we walked, the grand structure of the Freedom Academy came into view—an imposing monument of Ingracia's pride. After exchanging words with the guard, Yuuki's presence—being the chairman—made the process smooth. Moments later, we were already on our way to the classroom.
The moment I opened the door, a streak of energy slammed into me.
"You're late, Atem-sensei!!"
Alice rammed into my stomach like a small cannonball. I didn't budge, of course—she may be strong for a child, but compared to me, it was like a breeze hitting stone.
The others immediately followed.
"Yeah! You promised to come more often!" Gail complained.
"Yes," Kenya added, arms crossed in exaggerated defiance. "We thought you forgot about us."
Ryota raised his hand, "But we're glad you're here!"
And finally, Chloe, smiling brightly, hugged me. "Welcome back, sensei."
Their warmth was genuine. Even for someone like me—who carried the weight of a Pharaoh's will—it was grounding.
Yuuki chuckled. "Still as popular as ever, huh? I'm jealous."
"Yuuki!!" Alice shouted, pointing at him dramatically.
"Big bro Yuuki!" Kenya grinned. "You're gonna fight me today, right?"
"Me too!" Ryota jumped in.
Yuuki laughed. "Hah! It'll take another hundred years before you can even scratch me. But not today, little warriors."
"Awwww! Why not?!" Kenya whined.
I stepped forward, letting my aura subtly tighten the air. Their attention instantly shifted to me—good. They responded well to authority.
"Because," I said calmly, "we don't have time today."
Chloe blinked. "Time? For what?"
I crossed my arms, my gaze firm but not unkind. "I'm inviting the five of you to Eterna. There's a grand festival tomorrow. But—" I let my voice drop slightly, a teasing edge creeping in. "If you don't want to come, I can always change my mind."
"WHAT?!"
Kenya was the first to explode.
"Hurry! Let's pack!!"
"Alright, Ken-chan!"
"Wooow! Atem-sensei, you should've told us sooner!" Ryota shouted.
"You're always so sudden!!" Alice huffed, but she was smiling too.
"Atem-sensei… I'm so excited!" Chloe added softly, her eyes glowing.
Before I could utter another word, they bolted from the room, leaving only the echo of their footsteps behind.
"Just bring a change of clothes!" I called out. Naturally, no one answered.
Their excitement was like a storm sweeping through the academy.
One teacher, who had been quietly observing, let out a long, defeated sigh. "Amazing… they never treated me like that."
Yuuki chuckled. "That's because Atem isn't just anyone."
The man—Clouse, as he later introduced himself—smiled bitterly. "I'm Clouse. I was hired to fill your place here. And… now I understand why they talk about you so much."
I studied him. A veteran, eyes sharp but tired. His presence carried years of battle—someone who knew the weight of real fights.
"Yuuki-sama," Clouse said suddenly, his expression firming. "I have a request. And I'd like Lord Atem to hear it as well."
Yuuki raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
Clouse continued, "The children are already nearing my level in strength. If this continues, they'll surpass me soon. I've seen this before—when young talents grow too fast without a proper mountain to climb, they stagnate. They need someone… someone like Lord Atem. Someone to keep them reaching higher."
I remained silent, letting him speak. His words carried sincerity.
He wasn't wrong. Each of those children carried tremendous power within—power tied to the greater spirits they hosted. They were walking a path that could either forge heroes… or shatter them.
Kenya in particular bore the mark of destiny—a spirit of light had acknowledged him as a candidate for True Hero. Under proper guidance, he could become someone exceptional.
Yuuki exhaled. "I can't deny that. Even I'd have to stay on my toes against them now."
"Exactly," Clouse agreed. "They're powerful. But they still need someone who can show them how far the summit really is."
I looked out the window briefly, my mind already aligning pieces like a strategy board. They're growing quickly… but power without direction is dangerous.
I turned back to Clouse and Yuuki, the air around me subtly shifting—like a silent storm ready to move.
"They want a mountain," I said slowly, my voice like steel wrapped in calm. "Then I'll show them Everest."
Both men went quiet.
Yuuki grinned. "You always know how to make things sound dramatic, Pharaoh."
I smirked faintly. "I don't deal in drama, Yuuki. I deal in reality. Those children will not become complacent. I'll make sure of it."
The festival awaited. But beyond it—trials, lessons, and a future that would either elevate them… or break them.
I had already made my decision.
Like Clouse-san said, we needed to find a great teacher. But that raised the question—
"That's it. We need someone to properly train those kids, right? But if it's someone stronger than you, Clouse, we're talking about an active A-rank. Getting someone like that to settle down as a teacher isn't exactly realistic," Atem said, his voice carrying a natural authority that silenced any unnecessary chatter.
That was the problem.
Once an adventurer retires, it makes sense to take a stable teaching job. But if someone is still active, the money, the prestige, and the thrill all come from high-ranked jobs, not from babysitting children. And the Freedom Association wouldn't want to waste top-tier adventurers on something they could consider "minor."
"Precisely," Clouse admitted, exhaling a long, helpless sigh. "Assuming at least Rank A, I can't think of anyone who'd take the position. If it were just academic studies or basic adventuring skills, I could manage. But that won't be enough…"
Even though the idea had come from him, Clouse understood how difficult the task really was. Asking adventurers to teach was never going to be easy.
Atem folded his arms slowly, eyes narrowing as he thought. His presence alone made the air feel heavier—serious, unyielding. "Then we'll do it differently. I'm building a school in Eterna. We have plenty of B-ranks, and Hakurou—our 'Sword Master'—is already instructing there. In swordsmanship, he is a master. If it's about combat, he can train them."
Yuuki's eyes widened. Clouse looked stunned. Atem wasn't suggesting; he was declaring it.
"If we focused only on swordsmanship, that'd be perfect," Atem added, his tone even and firm. "But I intend to make them more than just swordsmen."
"That's… amazing! Then, can we entrust the kids to Atem-sama's country?" Yuuki asked eagerly.
"That's one option," Atem replied, but his tone sharpened. "But if we do that, they'll lose something important—understanding human society."
Atem's crimson gaze shifted slightly, a glint of calculation flashing within it. "Living among humans gives them the common sense they'll need to survive in human lands. If they grow up without that, they'll stand apart—not because of their strength, but because they won't understand how to communicate. Power alone won't bridge that gap."
Clouse and Yuuki exchanged a knowing look. This wasn't something they had thought deeply about.
"Ahh, because there are only monsters in Eterna… no human children," Yuuki said.
"I see. That could be a problem," Clouse agreed.
The two of them nodded at once, and Atem inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. At least they understood. But his sharp mind hadn't stopped there. There was another layer to this problem—one that weighed heavier on him than the rest.
"Well," Atem continued, "we could leave the skill training to Eterna. We can use teleportation magic. It wouldn't be difficult to bring them to us a few times a week. But more importantly…" His voice dropped lower, serious, commanding attention. "…they need to deepen their understanding of spirits."
The air seemed to tighten when Atem said that. This wasn't a simple matter. Each of those children carried a spirit within them. To use that power properly, they needed more than guidance—they needed knowledge and discipline.
And Atem, for all his power, knew this part wasn't something he could just hand over. His power as Pharaoh and his bond with Solarys, the Sovereign of Wisdom, was unique—something no ordinary child could be taught to mimic.
"My knowledge isn't something I can hand down in simple words," Atem said, eyes narrowing with intensity. "I can demonstrate how to control magic, how to wield power, but the essence of a spirit… is something that must be understood, not explained. Just like breathing—instinctive. But they have no such instinct yet."
Hinata and the Holy Knights came to Atem's mind. Their unique combat style—fusing spiritual energy with swordsmanship—was unlike anything most adventurers could pull off.
"If they could learn that level of control…" Atem's voice grew quiet but firm. "They'd have the foundation to protect themselves from anyone."
Yuuki followed Atem's gaze, clearly catching on. "If we're talking about spirits, then the Holy Knights are unmatched. Should I ask Hinata?"
"Um… I thought about that as well," Yuuki added quickly, a small shiver escaping him. "But isn't Hinata a bit… scary?"
Atem actually allowed a small, sharp breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh—but something close.
"Ah, yes. That is true," Clouse muttered.
"The kids won't underestimate her," Yuuki went on, "but I worry she might be too strict with them."
"I cannot deny what you said," Yuuki finally admitted.
Atem exhaled slowly through his nose. "Her strictness may be a weapon, but right now, it might crush more than it forges. We'll hold on that decision."
Their conversation paused as Atem noticed movement at the edge of the clearing.
The children were running toward them, small hands gripping travel bags almost as big as themselves. Their eyes sparkled with excitement—oblivious to the weight of the conversation the adults were having.
Atem straightened, the aura around him shifting like the calm before a storm. Duty would not overshadow joy today.
"Enough of this for now," he said, voice carrying a finality that ended the discussion without resistance. "We can face this problem after the festival."
He turned his gaze back toward Eterna's distant horizon, the faint echo of Solarys whispering through his mind—a quiet reminder that responsibility never sleeps.
But for now, Atem allowed himself to step away from the heaviness. The festival awaited, and the children deserved to laugh.
The problem wasn't solved—not even close. But Atem's eyes hardened with quiet resolve.
It would be solved. One way or another.