The discussion continued long after night had fallen.
Outside, Eastern Horizon Academy remained active as always.
Formation towers illuminated the mountains.
Students moved between training halls.
Research laboratories continued operating despite the late hour.
Yet inside the meeting chamber, nobody seemed eager to leave.
Because every topic they touched upon led to another question.
And every question forced them to think about civilization itself.
The glowing words still floated above the table.
Talent.
Character.
Discipline.
Contribution Mindset.
Foundation Quality.
The proposed admission criteria for the future academy.
Simple.
Yet not simple at all.
An academy could not survive on ideals alone.
Sooner or later, reality would test those ideals.
And everyone in the room knew it.
One of the elders finally spoke.
"Let's assume we implement this system.'
He looked toward Krishak.
"What happens when a genius fails the character evaluation?"
The room immediately became interested.
Because it was a realistic problem.
Not a hypothetical one.
Every cultivation era produced such individuals.
People with extraordinary talent but questionable morals.
The elder continued.
"A person with Saint-level potential appears."
"He possesses exceptional comprehension."
"Exceptional cultivation talent."
'But he is arrogant."
"Selfish."
"And only seeks personal power."
He spread his hands.
"Do we reject him?"
"Correct."
Krishak replied.
"Potential determines what a person may become."
"Character determines what they choose to become."
The distinction struck everyone immediately.
Meera smiled slightly.
"That might be one of the most important admission principles."
Several people nodded.
The conversation then shifted naturally toward another topic.
Arun tapped the table lightly.
"I see a problem."
Immediately several people looked toward him.
"If we're serious about creating a civilization institution rather than a traditional academy, then our greatest resource isn't students."
He paused.
"It's knowledge."
The room became quiet.
Because he wasn't wrong.
Most organizations throughout history fought over resources.
Spiritual mines.
Rare herbs.
Ancient inheritances.
But the real source of power had always been knowledge.
Rohon nodded slowly.
"Which creates another problem."
He folded his arms.
"How much knowledge are we willing to share?"
That question immediately shifted the atmosphere.
Everyone in the room understood its importance.
After all-
Years ago, the decision to release cultivation fundamentals had changed the entire world.
Many powerful organizations still hated Krishak for that decision.
Tara spoke first.
"Everything."
Several elders immediately frowned.
Tara remained calm.
"Knowledge grows when shared."
"Knowledge also kills when misused."
One elder replied.
The formation genius considered that.
Then slowly nodded.
"That's true."
The discussion began.
Meera spoke next.
"Medical knowledge should remain public."
"At least the fundamentals."
Nobody disagreed.
Her own achievements were proof of what open knowledge could accomplish.
Before Krishak's teachings spread, countless people died because basic cultivation knowledge remained restricted.
Now survival rates had increased dramatically.
"But advanced techniques are different."
Meera continued.
"Some alchemical methods can poison entire regions if used incorrectly."
Rohon nodded.
"The same applies to forging."
Several people looked surprised.
Rohon shrugged.
"Most people don't realize how dangerous forging can be."
He pointed toward the holographic map.
"A badly designed spiritual weapon can explode."
"A poorly balanced energy core can destabilize."
"A defective artifact can kill its owner."
The room became quieter.
Because civilization had advanced enough that every field carried responsibilities.
Arun leaned back.
"So complete openness isn't practical."
"And complete secrecy isn't practical either."
Meera added.
Now everyone looked toward Krishak.
For several moments, he remained silent.
Not because he lacked an answer.
But because he was organizing the problem properly.
Finally he spoke.
"Knowledge should not be restricted by status."
The room immediately focused.
"But it should be restricted by capability."
Several people frowned thoughtfully.
"Explain."
Rudra said.
Krishak pointed toward Tara.
"If a first-year student asks Tara for the blueprints of a city-scale defensive formation, should she provide them?"
"Of course not."
Tara answered immediately.
"Why?"
werea diately.
"Because they wouldn't understand them."
Krishak nodded.
Then pointed toward Meera.
"If a beginner asks for advanced medicinal formulas?"
"They could kill themselves."
Again he nodded.
The answer gradually became obvious.
The problem was never knowledge itself.
The problem was preparation.
Knowledge should not be hidden forever.
But neither should it be given before someone was ready to understand it.
Arun's eyes brightened slightly.
"So knowledge isn't earned through rank."
Krishak nodded.
"It's earned through competence."
The room became silent.
Because that one sentence perfectly matched everything they had discussed so far.
Not family background.
Not wealth.
Not influence.
Not connections.
Competence.
For the first time that evening, the framework of the future academy began to feel real.
Not merely idealistic.
Practical.
And this was only the beginning.
Because if deciding who could enter was difficult-
Deciding how to build an institution capable of educating humanity for centuries would be far harder.