Bam! Bam!

A great number of those soul creatures had a faintly glowing, pulsing core in the center of their chests — these were the force propulsion sigils designed by the substitute teacher and personally taught to them.

And yet, despite their brilliance, each of those soul creatures lasted no longer than a heartbeat or two before being completely shattered into soul fragments. Their masters were thrown back like broken dolls, their bodies smashing against the walls, hanging upside down from the stands in a most humiliating fashion.

"Hmm?" Robin turned sharply toward the professor's platform — and what he saw there made his brows twitch in disbelief.

Morgana was sitting calmly, her small mouth slightly open, her trembling eyes filled with confusion and panic. Her heart was clearly pounding; she hadn't expected things to spiral this far out of control. She was uneasy, perhaps even frightened, but... she wasn't doing anything to stop it.

"Mo—" Robin almost yelled at her to move, to do something. That girl didn't even seem to notice that he had stepped out of the chamber and shattered the sound barrier she had set around it.

Then he saw a shadow sitting beside her.

It was Jabba.

He was munching on snacks, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes wide open as if he didn't want to miss a single second of the chaos unfolding before him.

"That boy…" Robin muttered under his breath, pressing his hand against his forehead. He had just stepped out of an exhausting recovery process only to walk straight into a circus!

And they weren't the only ones treating this like entertainment — the academy's main gate and every window around the building were crowded with spectators. Hundreds... no, thousands of them had gathered, drawn by the sound of destruction echoing throughout the halls.

The only thing that calmed Robin's rage slightly was that every student seemed to have nothing more than a few bruises or minor fractures. It was clearly a training match — though one that had gone way beyond the acceptable limit. Had this been a real battle, all of them would've been corpses by now.

Still, the situation was unbearable. Robin clenched his fists, ready to unleash his own soul creatures to drive out the mob. But then—

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

A loud voice roared from within the chaos:

"You don't deserve to sit within the halls of Professor Robin! Only those who've earned his respect and carry his teachings have the right to stand here— get out!"

The voice came from one of the seven battle clusters — and within it, several massive blue dragons emerged. Their bodies were semi-translucent and gelatinous, their size stretching dozens of meters across.

Each dragon fought independently, spewing toxic fumes, raining down needle-like venom, or releasing slick, gelatinous traps from beneath their enemies' feet that detonated a moment later in dazzling explosions. They moved with frightening intelligence, as if each had a mind and will of its own, holding their ground against dozens of students simultaneously without faltering.

And there weren't one or two of them — there were ten!

Robin recognized them instantly and shouted, "Mirina?!"

"…?!" The girl at the center of the storm froze, her eyes widening. That voice — that firm, commanding voice — it felt like it came straight from the heavens.

"The Professor's voice…!" she gasped.

BOOOOOOM!

All ten colossal dragons turned instantly, roaring in unison as they blasted away the students around them, clearing a massive path through the crowd. Dust and wind swirled violently as they bowed their heads slightly, revealing a young man with short hair and a faint beard, standing proudly at the end of the corridor — calm, powerful, unshaken.

"Ahh—" Mirina's eyes filled with tears. She fell to one knee and shouted, her voice echoing across the battlefield, "I greet Professor Robin Burton!"

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

One after another, the battle clusters across the arena erupted. Six more students revealed themselves, each kneeling in unison and shouting at the top of their lungs:

"We greet Professor Robin Burton!"

Cough, cough—

"T-That's the real Professor Robin?"

"Damn…"

The thousands of wounded students turned toward him with awe and disbelief. Those still standing felt something between jealousy and reverence crawl through their veins, forcing them to take an involuntary step back. Even though the seven kneeling students had dropped their defenses entirely, not a single person dared attack them now.

If the students were monsters... then what in the world was their teacher?

"Y- your Majesty!" Morgana's voice trembled slightly as she stood, her expression still carrying the faint shock of everything that had just unfolded before her eyes. It took her a moment to gather herself before she bowed respectfully, her tone careful, almost reverent. "I sincerely hope… that the training session proved beneficial to you, my lord."

"…?!" The crowd erupted in waves of disbelief. Every student, instructor, and spectator who had gathered began to exchange stunned, incredulous glances — and soon those glances turned into sharp stares of envy and confusion. Your Majesty? The substitute instructor, bowing her head to someone she should be commanding? What kind of authority did that man have?

Robin's eyes narrowed, his calm voice now edged with authority as it cut through the heavy air. "Morgana… what exactly is happening here?" His tone carried a hint of irritation, cold and commanding. "Why are all these rabble swarming my students like this?"

"Rabble?!" thousands of students cried out at once. Their combined voices shook the air like thunder, but it was short-lived. The pain of their bruises, the sting of their burns, and the exhaustion from battle made many flinch and stumble back into silence.

Robin looked across the battered faces — these were not just strangers; even though he had never formally accepted them as his disciples, they were still connected to him by name and legacy. Since when did others dare to treat his students, with such insolence?

"…!!" Mirina's lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears, and the six behind her shared the same look — relief, pride, and devotion lighting their faces. She took a hesitant step forward, her voice soft but clear. "Professor," she began, her words quick and pleading, "the instructor merely arranged a few light duels between the new and senior students — she only wanted to compare our strength. Please, don't be too harsh on her."

"...I see." Robin's voice lost its edge, turning calm again. He waved his hand lightly, as though brushing away the tension. "Alright then. Everyone step down from where you are and stop this nonsense at once. I'd rather not have those kids organizing another protest against me."

"Haha! I knew it the moment I saw those techniques!" Jabba burst into laughter, tossing aside the handful of roasted seeds he had been munching on. He strutted toward Robin, grinning ear to ear. "Master, you must teach me someday how to forge such magnificent creations. They're like art in motion!"

"Heh~ You wouldn't understand even if I did teach you," Robin replied, smiling faintly while buttoning the cuffs of his robe. "My focus has always been on the Laws themselves, from the very first day I began my path. You, on the other hand, have always preferred shortcuts and improvisation."

"Your Master?" Vanir's voice came low and skeptical as he landed nearby, slowing his descent. His brows furrowed, his sharp eyes moving from Robin to Jabba. "Professor… this boy here is your official disciple?"

The six other elite students shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward Jabba with clear envy in their eyes — but also disbelief. They scanned him from head to toe, searching for any trace of extraordinary aura or divine energy, but there was none. He looked… ordinary. Too ordinary.

The Professor had refused them all before, claiming he would take no more disciples. He had stated publicly that only two people had ever received his direct tutelage — one had ascended to become a Truth Chosen, and the other had become a planetary general commanding entire worlds. And now… this boy was the third?

Had he rejected them only to take in this smiling fool?

"Hmph…" Thousands of students across the courtyard shared the same thought, the same smirk. They crossed their arms, whispering among themselves, their mocking gazes sharp as blades.

Now this one looked like the kind of disciple a "pretender professor" would choose. And those seven kneeling students beside him? What a joke.

"Hehehe~ Professor Robin!" a mocking voice rang from the crowd. "Sure, sure, we believe that one is your disciple. But who exactly are those seven?"

"They're probably mercenaries he paid to act strong for him," another jeered, "just to save face and get back at us for the protest."

"All of this because we forced him to keep the substitute instructor? What a petty old man!"

"Get out of the academy!"

"Take your pet student with you!"

"Down with Robin Burton!"

"Down with Robin Burton!"

The chants swelled like thunder, rolling through the halls and echoing in the rafters.

Morgana, finally snapping under the wave of insolence, clenched her fists and shouted furiously, "You insolent, blind fools! Don't you see who—!!"

Bam! Bam!

The floor trembled. Deep, rhythmic thuds shook the entire corridor as if a colossal beast was walking toward them. The door behind Robin creaked open with a loud groan, and from the shadowed doorway emerged a familiar voice.

"Master…" Shaddad's head appeared, his hair still damp, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "What's with all the noise? It sounds like a battlefield out here."

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