Everyone looked at each other around the massive, mahogany dining table.
The ambient hum of the villa's protective barriers seemed to amplify the weight of Xu Xiansu's question.
Goal? What truly was their goal?
Until now, they had all been moving as a cohesive unit primarily driven by survival, the momentum of enrollment, or the overarching presence of Shen Haoran.
But the Imperial Academy was not just a simple school; it was a miniature reflection of the entire continent's power structure.
Entering its gates without a clear, definitive blueprint for what they intended to extract from it was a fool's errand.
Suddenly, breaking the heavy silence, Qian Yunxi spoke. Her golden hair caught the morning sunlight as she tilted her chin upward, her expression shifting into an icy, unyielding mask of geopolitical ambition.
