She raised an eyebrow. "That confident? Do you think your teaching already surpasses the academy's?"

Alfred shook his head. "I stopped caring about victory and defeat long ago. I didn't have them compete for the sake of winning."

She studied him, then asked, "How's the kid from yesterday? The one with the variant martial soul."

Alfred glanced at her. "If I said I don't fully understand his body either, would you believe me?"

She froze, then laughed softly. "I would. When has Sky Ice Alfred ever lied? But even you don't know? That… that really is strange."

Alfred spoke in a low, steady voice.

"His martial soul was originally nothing more than an ordinary Silverfalls Vine, and his spirit soul was weak as well. Yet his body… his body is exceptional. What confounds me is that his bloodline evolution and his martial soul influence one another, yet they are not the same thing. Even stranger, the mutations in his bloodline have nothing to do with his martial soul at all. They are two entirely separate existences, but they aren't twin martial souls either. This is the first time I've ever encountered something like this."

The white-haired woman listened carefully, her expression thoughtful. "Why not bring him back to the academy? We could ask a few elders to examine him properly. They might uncover the truth."

Alfred's gaze hardened, a layer of frost settling over his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. If they are to enter the academy, it will be through their own strength. Nothing more."

A soft sigh slipped from her lips. "Are you still angry about what happened back then? Actually, the situation at the time—"

"Enough." Alfred cut her off. His voice was calm, but final. "I hold no grudges against them. If there is resentment, it is toward myself alone. I'm already a man walking toward death. If not for the hope of reviving her… I would not care whether I lived or died."

For an instant, pain flickered through his eyes, sharp enough to wound.

"You're too stubborn," the woman said helplessly.

Alfred's expression returned to its familiar icy indifference, as if that moment of vulnerability had never existed. "If I weren't stubborn, would I still be me?"

She laughed softly. "That's true. If you weren't like this, you wouldn't be the man in white with the blue sword, cold as the frozen heavens. You wouldn't be the man Rihanna loved."

Alfred continued watching the matches below, but his gaze had lost focus.

Memories stirred in the depths of his mind, surfacing one after another like shards of ice.

After a long while, he murmured, "Giselle, I went to see her a few days ago."

The woman stiffened. "You went to Arcana Continent? Are you really never returning to the academy? Do you have any idea how much your teacher suffered after you left?"

Agony crossed Alfred's face. "I don't deserve to face my teacher. I'm too ashamed to go back."

Giselle sighed. "Are you raising these children just to send them back as compensation?"

Alfred did not reply.

"You're wrong," Giselle continued softly. "No one can replace you. The only person who can make up for everything… is you yourself. You're still alive. You should go back."

*

Because of the tight schedule of the round-robin stage, the four students of Class Zero arrived at the stadium early.

Each group followed its own timetable. With nine teams per group, one team would receive a bye each day.

Unfortunately, Class Zero was not granted a bye in the first round. Their opponent was Skysea Academy's B-team.

In a city as massive as Skysea City or West Ocean City, it was common for academies to send two or even three teams to the same division. Ray's group was just one of West Ocean Academy's many teams, and the youngest among them.

Skysea Academy was the strongest intermediate academy in the entire Skysea Alliance. Even their B-team possessed formidable strength.

"Adapt as needed, but stick to the plan," Ray said quietly.

They had already observed several of Skysea Academy's matches during the knockout rounds. In terms of cultivation, technique, and coordination, their opponents were outstanding for their age.

"Ray, are you really okay?" Lily asked. Her concern was understandable, given his injuries from the previous day.

Ray smiled gently. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Raymond"

An unfamiliar voice suddenly called out.

He turned to see a white-haired old man approaching with a middle-aged man at his side. The elder walked at the front, his hands callused and powerful, his tall figure radiating authority and vigor.

"You're looking for me?" Ray asked politely. He was certain he'd never met this man before.

"I heard you were injured yesterday and couldn't participate in the final round of the blacksmithing competition," the old man said, stopping directly in front of him.

The man was astonishingly tall. Even Ray, tall for his age, barely reached the old man's waist.

"Yes," Ray replied honestly. "I was injured and didn't want to risk worsening it."

The old man nodded. "I am the president of the Skysea Blacksmith's Association. You may call me Godfrey. You're very talented. It's a pity you couldn't compete in the final round."

Ray's eyes widened slightly. President of the Skysea Blacksmith's Association?

"Greetings, Mr. President," he said respectfully. "I'll work harder next time."

Godfrey smiled. "Skysea City has a recommendation program for outstanding talents. When I saw your work, I knew you had great potential. Are you interested in coming to Skysea City to develop further?"

So that's it.

Ray immediately understood the old man's intention.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President," he said without hesitation. "I must decline."

He had already put down roots in West Ocean City. Alfred and Nigel were his teachers. Everything he had achieved so far was because of their guidance. There was no reason to leave.

"Don't refuse so quickly," Godfrey said calmly. "Hear my conditions first. Skysea City is the largest city on the West Coast. In terms of political and economic power, it far surpasses West Ocean City. Whatever West Ocean's Blacksmith's Association can offer, we can match. More than that, we are willing to cover all forging expenses until you reach Saint Blacksmith level."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"You should know how much time and money Spirit Refinement consumes. Many blacksmiths waste decades and countless resources at that stage. Given your talent, we're willing to sponsor you until you break through Spirit Refinement. We also guarantee your cultivation will reach at least Soul Emperor. This is our offer."

It was impossible to deny how tempting those words were.

Funding Spirit Refinement alone was enough to make any blacksmith's heart race. Even Ray felt shaken.

"Thank you for your kindness, Sir," Ray said, bowing deeply. "But I truly cannot accept. I already have a teacher. I am a member of West Ocean's Blacksmith Association. I cannot betray my conscience."

His tone was respectful, but his resolve was immovable.

Godfrey frowned. "Do you understand how vast the resources I'm offering are? Even with talent and luck, you might need another ten years to reach the same level on your own. Miss that golden period, and becoming a Saint Blacksmith will be far more difficult. West Ocean cannot give you what Skysea can."

Ray lowered his head. "I understand, Godfrey. But I truly cannot accept. I will not betray my teacher."

The old man stared at him for a long moment. The middle-aged man beside him was about to speak, but Godfrey raised a hand to stop him.

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