Disciple Cultivation System:All my students are legendary.

An explosive rang through the academy, causing the ground and building to quake.

From the origin point of said explosion, panicked students and even teachers who had rushed to the site after sensing the enormous concentration of aura all had their gaze fixated on the cloud of dust obscuring the field, where Art and Grim fought.

"Is the academy under attack?" one teacher panicked.

"No, but I heard two teachers fought."

"Teachers?"

"Yeah, Instructor Art and Professor Grim," another chimed in.

"So who won?"

"That's what we're waiting for."

Glancing at the cloud of dust now settled, an eerie silence filled the crowd of spectators.

Who would win was simple—it should be the veteran professor, the retired assassin. But from the chatter of some students, the new instructor was no slouch either.

He had awakened his intent during the fight—not just a simple color, but a golden intent, one only ever seen in geniuses and one that symbolized divinity.

If what the students said was true, it meant not only did the new instructor have the potential of growing into a saint, who were revered by many, but also had the unique ability to be stronger than anyone within his rank.

The appropriate gauge for him now was a three-star aura user, but after his intent awakening, he would be able to fight a four-star and even give a five-star a run for their money—all because of the purity of his aura.

This wasn't just talent but also an anomaly, so who would come out victorious wasn't certain.

"What the heck is going on?"

Busting into the scene was Professor Levi, his passionate voice drawing just as much attention as the anticipation of the winner of the still-undecided fight.

"I heard Grim's going up against the new recruit."

Following him was Professor Cerci, beaming with joy and anticipation.

"Which recruit?"

"Villeir's apprentice!"

"Oh, that boy."

Crossing his thick arms in front of his chest, he proudly watched as the dust fully settled.

"That brat."

A scene none could have predicted followed as Art—his wooden sword having shattered, leaving in its place a golden, transparent sword—hacked down at Grim, who lifted her aura-coated hands over her head to block.

For a moment, they locked gazes, neither refusing to give in. But in the end, rank came into play as Grim forcefully pushed her arms up, flung Art into the air, and pivoted her right leg up, sending a roundhouse kick at him.

Art, unable to dodge midair, positioned the aura construct diagonally in front of him to block.

As he and everyone expected, his blade—made out of his aura—was too weak and fragile, shattering upon coming in contact with her leg. But it bought him time as he landed on his feet and rushed forward.

"He's fast."

Seeing him dodge Grim's blow aimed at his head, Levi remarked.

"His aura color is also intriguing."

Cerci, making her own observation, spoke right after Art infused golden aura into his fist and launched a clumsy punch at Grim.

"He's impressive..."

Blocking his blow, Grim was pushed back, her face expressing hints of surprise as steam began emitting from her arms, which she had used to block his strike.

It wasn't perfect—it was lacking in technique and was undoubtedly amateurish—but she wouldn't deny one thing: it hurt much more than she expected.

Finally deciding to take him even more seriously, she lowered her stance, her fists raised and positioned in front of her.

Art, ignorant of the sudden change, charged at her blindly, his body burning with intense aura.

He started with a punch once he was close enough to Grim. Since Art was superior in height, she ducked just enough for her shoulders to align with his punch. Then, stomping her feet forward, she allowed it to graze her right shoulder at just the right angle and timing to offset the direction before following with a counterattack.

Her left hand whipped forward like a chain—blurry, sharp, and soon impactful—as it crushed into Art's face, killing his balance and burying him in the ground in a brutal finisher.

Retracting her bloody hand from his now bruised and swollen face, she shook it lightly to scatter the blood before turning around in confusion at the gathered crowd.

---

Art's vision was blurry. From the moment he awakened his intent to everything he experienced in the soul world, one might say he wasn't in the right state of mind.

He was exhausted, his body heating up and burning with intense pain. His face had almost been caved in, and while his teeth and nose were still intact, he couldn't help but feel a wet liquid flowing from his mouth.

He had been crushed, his body now lying flat on the ground without any means of getting up. But he didn't feel sad—on the contrary, he was happy because all of this was his power.

No inherited swordsmanship, no dagger arts—everything was his, even if he hadn't fully worked hard for it. He was glad to know that even without Trish's skill, he had something so... It was enough. He no longer needed to push further.

He needed rest. He had pushed himself far too much. He had fought with his all, he had lost with his all, and he would grow with his all.

From now on, he wouldn't slack off. He would work hard, grow strong—not for himself, nor the world, but for the students he was now in charge of.

No matter the situation.

No matter the villain—be it a Demon Lord, a dragon, or even a god.

No matter what came at him.

He'd do his best.

He wasn't the protagonist nor an extra.

He wasn't the center of the world, nor was he ignored by said world.

He was just a simple teacher—one with a role unlike any other.

Feeling his sight grow darker, he first looked up—first at Grim, who was blushing for some reason, and finally at Valeria, whom, among all the mass of students, he found easily.

"Stop being a brat and get... over your... trauma."

She probably wouldn't hear what he said, but Grim would—and that was enough for him.

So he went into slumber once more... a continuation of the one he had left behind in his soul world.