"You heard already?" Ray asked.

Lily nodded calmly. "It should be about yesterday."

A cold glint flashed through Raziel Phoenix's eyes. "Let's go."

He grabbed Ray and started toward the gates.

"Wait!" Ray said heavily.

Raziel Phoenix snapped back, "What are we waiting for? If it's that trash from yesterday, we'll beat them again! Bullying shop owners and now daring to make trouble at the academy?"

Ray tightened his grip. Raziel Phoenix struggled, but against Ray's strength, it was useless.

"Don't be impulsive," Ray said firmly. "This is West Ocean Academy. If they still dare to come here, it means they have backing. We're still too weak. The right move is to find a teacher first."

Raziel Phoenix gradually calmed down. He was smart. Once he understood the logic, his anger subsided.

Lily nodded. "I agree with Ray."

Miel swallowed nervously. "There are at least two hundred people outside. They're extremely arrogant. What did you guys do?"

"I'll explain later," Ray said. "Let's find Teacher."

Alfred was easy to find. After dinner, he always meditated.

Dressed in a white chang pao, Alfred opened the door and looked at them coolly. "What cultivation problem do you have?"

Raziel Phoenix instinctively fell silent and looked at Ray.

Ray took a breath. "Teacher… we caused some trouble."

He recounted everything that had happened.

Alfred listened expressionlessly. When Ray finished, he said coldly, "So you're capable of causing this much trouble now."

Then he turned and walked out.

His robes fluttered softly, white as snow, carrying an icy, otherworldly aura. For a moment, it felt unreal.

Ray snapped Raziel Phoenix out of his daze, and the three followed Alfred toward the academy gates.

Outside, more than two hundred burly men blocked the entrance, weapons in hand. Some even carried prohibited soul devices.

Among them, several people pushed a stretcher forward. Sebastian lay atop it, wrapped in layers of bandages.

A massive banner was raised high: "Murder must be repaid with life! Debts must be paid! Hand over the culprit!"

Despite their arrogance, they didn't dare step inside the academy.

At the forefront stood a man over two meters tall, his head shaved clean except for short sideburns. His physique was terrifying, muscles coiled with power. His eyes swept the crowd coldly, searching for the faces in the photographs.

"What kind of people dare cause trouble at the gates of West Ocean Academy?" a furious voice rang out.

Aaron arrived with more than ten teachers.

The tall man spoke coldly, his voice like rolling thunder. "My name is Eren. The one on the stretcher is my younger brother."

Aaron's pupils shrank.

"Eren… the captain of West Ocean City's mecha brigade?" A mecha brigade stood at the Master Regiment level, only one rank beneath West Ocean City's chief executive. More importantly, there was no subordinate relationship between the two.

The instant Aaron recognized the towering, iron-like man before him as Eren, his expression changed drastically. Even if the chief executive himself were present, he would have no authority to command this man.

"I am not here as the captain of the mecha brigade," Eren said coldly. "I am here as an elder brother whose younger sibling lies gravely injured. Hand over the culprits."

His voice was steady, devoid of emotion, yet it pressed down like a mountain.

"Captain Eren," Aaron replied carefully, his tone far gentler than before, "there must be some misunderstanding. The photograph shows three children. Surely you're not saying your brother was injured by those three?"

Aaron was keenly aware that Eren was not someone to provoke. A man who commanded a mecha brigade meant that every one of the burly men behind him was a Mecha Master.

Though ordinary people could pilot mechas, such cases were rare. Most Mecha Masters were Soul Masters with rich combat experience and exceptional control over soul devices.

Against such a force, West Ocean Academy could not afford a direct clash. Worse still, the other side could mobilize full combat mechas if pushed.

Eren was a legend in West Ocean City.

Born to an ordinary family, orphaned at a young age, he had clawed his way upward through sheer talent and relentless effort.

At thirty-five, he held the rank of brigade captain. His soul power cultivation had reached six rings. A genuine Soul Emperor. His Mecha Master rank had also reached Emperor level.

Within West Ocean Academy itself, there was only one person with such cultivation.

"Misunderstanding?" Eren repeated, eyes darkening. "My brother lies beaten to the brink of death. As his elder brother, I will investigate this matter myself. I've already given West Ocean City enough face by waiting here. Hand them over within twenty minutes. Otherwise, we'll enter and search for them ourselves."

Aaron's face hardened.

"Captain Eren, don't go too far! This is an academy, a place for nurturing students. Which one of you didn't graduate from an academy? I will not hand them over. If you wish to force your way in, activate your mechas and step over my corpse first. Otherwise, don't take a single step into West Ocean Academy!"

A wave of heat surged through the students.

Those who usually complained about Director Long's sternness now felt their blood boiling. Several senior students stepped forward instinctively, standing behind him.

Eren suddenly took a step forward.

Boom!

The ground shook violently. A deep rumble echoed outward as if the earth itself had groaned. Students at the front staggered, some falling outright.

"I believe only in strength," Eren said coldly. "You shelter the ones who crippled my brother, yet speak of righteousness? I tried reasoning with you. Since my fist is larger, I'll use it. Let's see who can stop me."

At that moment, an ice-cold voice echoed from within the academy.

"I dislike reasoning the most. Settling things with fists is much simpler."

The crowd blinked.

A blur passed through their vision, and suddenly, a figure stood before the gates.

Coral-blue hair cascading down his back.

Inky-green eyes as calm as frozen lakes.

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

This sensation struck Eren most strongly. The crushing momentum he had built shattered instantly, like a wave crashing against an ancient glacier.

"Teacher… It's Teacher!"

Cheers erupted from the academy's side.

Eren narrowed his eyes, forcibly gathering his aura once more. "Who are you?"

Alfred replied calmly, "The students you seek are my students. Defeat me, and you may proceed. Otherwise—leave."

His words were flat, cold, unquestionable.

Eren laughed loudly, fury blazing behind his smile. "Good! No one has spoken to me like this in years. You've piqued my interest!"

A powerful yellow radiance surged from his body.

Yellow. Yellow. Purple. Purple. Purple. Purple.

Six soul rings rose beneath him.

A collective gasp swept through the students.

Six rings. A Soul Emperor!

As Eren released his martial soul, his body swelled by half a meter. Metallic-gray scales spread from his forehead across his shoulders, torso, and limbs, encasing him in armor-like skin.

Three spirit soul manifestations appeared:

Two yellow lizards, identical in form.

One massive purple python.

A thousand-year spirit soul.

Only elites possessed such a soul.

His martial soul was Armored Dragon, the same as Sebastian's—but incomparably stronger. The aura it released was like an unscalable mountain.

A violent storm of momentum roared toward Alfred, whipping his long blue hair into the air.

Then—

Cold.

An icy chill swept the field.

A pale blue flash cut through the storm.

The raging momentum split in half… then vanished.

Alfred stood unmoved, right hand raised. A pale blue longsword had appeared in his grasp.

The sword's tip gleamed like an autumn spring. Sword light flowed like a cascading waterfall.

White robes. Blue sword.

Like an immortal descended into the mortal world.

Soul rings shimmered along the blade.

Yellow. Yellow. Purple. Purple. Black. Black.

Black.

Ten-thousand-year soul rings.

The world froze.

The sky seemed to hold its breath.

Alfred stood silently, yet Eren's towering presence felt suddenly insignificant.

Ten-thousand-year…

Ten-thousand-year soul rings…

How was that possible? Eren stared at Alfred, utterly stunned.

Since the extinction of soul beasts, ten-thousand-year soul rings had become vanishingly rare. Even the Spirit Tower found it extraordinarily difficult to produce ten-thousand-year spirit souls. Yet this man before him possessed two.

How?

How could someone so young have ten-thousand-year soul rings?

Who exactly is he?

The pressure bore down on Eren like an invisible mountain. His impulsive nature still burned with the desire to fight, but the moment he truly faced Alfred, uncertainty crept in. Victory was no longer something he could be confident about.

Alfred did not even spare him a glance.

Instead, he lowered his head, gazing quietly at the longsword in his hand.

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