"Haha, of course, of course!"Daniel laughed heartily. "When I first joined the Church, I started out in the exchange departnt, you know. Don't worry—I'll make sure your Legendary items fetch an excellent price!"
The conversation between Alan and the archbishop had gone smoothly. Later, Alan brought Daniel to the temporary base he and his companions had constructed during the academy's reconstruction period.
Aside from the magical jug he had given to Francis, and the bramble-patterned wristguards he had handed to Fort, Alan entrusted all the remaining loot—every single Legendary item and magical artifact—to Daniel for safekeeping and transport.
Daniel, of course, was overjoyed.
Ever since he had unilaterally activated the Church's sacred defense chanism, several of his colleagues had openly criticized him, accusing him of reckless decision-making. To make matters worse, the Church's finances had been decimated, and believers across the region were left hungry and desperate, their faith tested not only by spiritual hardship but physical scarcity. Daniel's already unstable position within the Church had beco even more precarious.
But now, thanks to Alan's tily assistance, the storm had passed. The crisis was no longer a threat, but a stepping stone.
Not only would Daniel avoid dismissal—he might even be promoted.
After all, Legendary-grade magical gear had beco a form of hard currency in the Sacred Realm. The market was so overheated that prices had skyrocketed, with wealthy collectors and powerful mages scouring every corner of the land to scoop up anything labeled "Legendary." The shelves were now empty; demand remained high, but supply had vanished. It was a textbook case of scarcity.
Daniel didn't even dare to imagine the kind of profit he'd make from selling Alan's batch of loot.
Even if only thirty percent of the earnings went to him, it would be enough to keep him and the Church's followers fed and clothed for years to co.
And all of this was thanks to Alan.
This young man, who not only possessed terrifying strength but also wielded impressive influence and charm, had beco Daniel's lucky star.
More importantly, Alan was loyal and deeply principled. If soone showed him kindness, he would return it tenfold. The sa, of course, applied in reverse.
And so Daniel understood sothing crucial: with people like Alan, honesty was key. Sches and manipulation were useless. No matter how many layers of plotting one devised, they would never match the simplicity and power of sincerity. Being straightforward with Alan—that was the real way to cooperate.
Today, he had tested that theory… and succeeded.
…
So ti passed. The rebuilding of Sirius Academy began to take shape.
Looking at the newly constructed central hall, the elegant towers, and the soaring peak behind the academy, Alan couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion.
He raised his hand and pointed to the summit—the very top of the mountain, where an enormous teleportation array had been established.
"That peak," he said quietly, "from now on, it'll be called the Gayle Do. Our forr headmaster may be gone… but his spirit remains with us, always."
"Well said!"Francis imdiately broke into applause. Blanche and Fort also turned to look at the mountaintop, their expressions full of complex emotions—grief, pride, and reverence all mingled in their eyes.
A few monts later, the four of them stood beside a blazing bonfire, quietly putting their gear in order.
Then they descended the mountain.
Their destination: Lioncrest Academy.
Stephen—the headmaster of Lioncrest—was already dead, erased from existence. But a beast like a centipede doesn't die from one blow. The lingering remnants of Lioncrest still festered in the shadows. Alan would never allow those vermin to slither away unpunished.
"Wait… is that Alan?""It really is him! He's still alive!""Look at where he's headed… Is he going to Lioncrest?""This is incredible! Those scumbags from Lioncrest Academy betrayed us, colluded with foreign invaders from the NK Kingdom, and reduced our holand to rubble. I've hated them for so long! Co on—let's follow Alan. Today, we raze Lioncrest to the ground and avenge our people!"
"Flatten Lioncrest! Long live our holand!""Flatten Lioncrest! Long live our holand!"
More and more citizens of the imperial capital joined the march. What began as four figures soon beca a tide of people—shouting, unified, righteous.
Their cries echoed across the land like a divine horn announcing judgnt day, a thunderous advance that surrounded Lioncrest Academy on all sides.
Eventually, Alan stopped in front of the academy's grand gates.
He inhaled deeply, then bellowed into the silent compound with commanding fury:"Cowardly remnants of Lioncrest! Who among you dares face in battle?!"
Silence.
Since Stephen's death, not a single soul from Lioncrest had been seen. It was as if the entire academy had beco a tomb.
"Hah! They're terrified. Probably curled up under their beds, shaking like leaves."Francis clutched his stomach, laughing uncontrollably.
Just then, a figure erged from the shadows.
Vice Headmaster Tyrande stepped forward, her expression complicated as she looked at Alan and the crowd behind him.
"Enough!" she shouted. "That's enough! Alan, our headmaster is already dead—what more do you want? Can't the cycle of hatred end here?"
Her voice had barely faded when Alan beca a blur of motion, dashing forward like lightning.
His hand clamped around Tyrande's throat, lifting her off the ground.
"Oh? End the hatred? Did you pause to consider that when you were plotting my demise?!" he growled coldly."You're not repenting. You're just afraid to die!"
And with that, Alan swung his arm. Tyrande's body slamd into the ground like a teor, creating a crater wider than a grown man.
The crowd gasped in shock.
This was Tyrande! A Tier-Diamond mage! Yet Alan had flattened her as if she were nothing.
How powerful had he beco?
"Cough… cough… cough!"Tyrande clutched her chest, coughing up blood, dazed and broken. After a long pause, she looked up at Alan, eyes wide.
"You… you've mastered mana to such a level already? Don't tell … you've beco a Magus Sovereign?!"
Alan didn't answer.
Instead, he silently conjured Lun Sancta, his signature radiant blade. In the blink of an eye, Tyrande was sliced into countless pieces, her remains scattering across the cracked stone floor.
He didn't know what title he now held—whether he was Tier-Gold, Tier-Platinum, or even a Sovereign.He didn't care.
Titles were aningless to him.
Today, he had only one purpose: to wipe out every last soul connected to Lioncrest Academy. No rcy. No survivors.
With Tyrande gone, Alan turned and led his companions deeper into the academy grounds.
Lioncrest's structure resembled Sirius Academy, only on a much grander scale. But the group didn't linger to admire the architecture—they made their way directly toward the central hall.
However, midway through, they were forced to halt.
"…These monsters."
"To think they would abandon even the last shred of dignity as mages... just to survive."
"…"
Blanche stood silently, tears streaking down her face.
Blocking their path were not Lioncrest students. Not guards.But the remains of Sirius Academy's fallen students.
Alan had known not all the bodies had been recovered during the final battle. But he never imagined the depths of Lioncrest's depravity. To use the corpses of their enemies as human shields—to display them like obstacles—was a level of disgrace he hadn't thought possible.
"These bastards..."Francis gritted his teeth and turned to the gathered crowd.
"Don't just stand there! Help us bring our seniors ho. We'll bury them properly at Sirius—where they belong!"
But before anyone could respond, Alan raised a hand to stop them.
Francis looked up in confusion—then froze.
Alan's body was trembling. His eyes burned with cold, bottomless fury.
"No," he said through clenched teeth. "They had nothing to do with this."
"The ones who will carry our seniors ho... will be those filthy Lioncrest traitors. I will shatter their knees—and make them carry these bodies, crawling the entire way up to Gayle Do."
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