Lord of the Truth

"...I am ready to die for you, Substitute teacher!!!"

"Substitute teacher, let me shine your shoes and cook your meals!!"

Amidst those passionate cries, the woman standing proudly beside the battlefield below gently raised her hand and waved to the gathered students, her crimson nails glinting under the sunlight.

"Hehe~ Thank you for your kind words, children."

Of course, that woman was none other than Morgana herself… She wore a long crimson dress that shimmered faintly like liquid fire, tightly fitted at the waist and chest, emphasizing her hourglass figure with almost unnatural elegance. Even among her male students, she towered above most of them, surpassing two full meters in height.

Her lips gleamed red as if painted with blood, a faint crimson hue surrounded her eyes, while her cheeks were flushed like ripe apples, giving her an allure that was both dangerous and irresistible—anyone who laid eyes on her would immediately feel the urge to take a bite, to surrender.

Naturally, there was no need to speak of her features; the royal bloodline she inherited as a princess of a dynasty that once ruled a millennial empire was overwhelming in its majesty. Every detail—her delicate face, her sculpted body, even the way her limbs moved—was like a masterpiece crafted by the heavens themselves. She was beauty and power, fused into a single existence.

"Heh~ That's not fair, Teacher."

The girl called Norin descended from the stage with a weary sigh, though the mischievous smile tugging her lips could not be hidden. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, but her eyes glimmered with admiration.

"I won, but you're stealing all the spotlight again. This isn't fair at all."

"Of course the Teacher steals the spotlight—the spotlight was made for her!"

"Teacher is the light itself!"

Dozens of boys and girls surrounding Morgana shouted in chorus, their voices trembling with passion, their eyes shining with the starlight of unshakable devotion.

…Ever since Morgana appeared decades ago in the ancient academic building of Professor Robin Burton, declaring that she would act as a substitute teacher until his eventual return, the entire academy had undergone a revolutionary transformation!

During the first few years, Morgana walked a path similar to Robin's—isolated, detached, immersed in long stretches of silence. But unlike Robin, she had no research to drown herself in, no truth-chamber tasks to distract her endless days. All she could do was listen—the lecture hall filling each day with the chatter of young boys and girls, hear the whispers rising from below, hear Shaddad occasionally booming his own lessons.

Out of sheer boredom, one day she sighed, brushed her hair back, and descended from her high seat. She began to lecture about soul force—especially about soul creatures.

At that time, her entire audience was no more than two boys and a single girl, all from the same batch Robin had once disciplined harshly. Shaddad too would scold them whenever he attended, smothering them with his suffocating "bear hugs" and other incomprehensible punishments.

So when this angelic yet imposing figure appeared before them, declaring herself a royal soul mistress, she simply explained a few principles, then casually dismissed them—telling them class was over and they were free to leave. Yet something deep shifted inside those three students that day.

...So this is what a normal teacher is supposed to be like?!

The following week, Morgana was astonished to find not three, but ten students waiting in the lecture hall. She went down again and gave another lesson. But this time, after the class ended, none of them left. They lingered. They approached her with burning eyes, asking her questions—personal questions, trivial questions, questions that revealed their hunger for closeness.

The girls, especially, were captivated by her presence. Female instructors in the academy were rare, and none carried such ethereal beauty nor that balance of strength, refinement, and self-care. To them, Morgana was more than a teacher—she was an ideal, a living standard to aspire to, proof that a woman could be both feared and adored.

And for Morgana herself —who in all her long life had never once tasted the sweetness of being admired openly, of being cherished— this sensation was entirely new, almost intoxicating.

For the first time in centuries, she felt something stir within her: an anticipation, a curiosity…

An event worth looking forward to in the weeks to come.

And indeed, after that very first week, they came back once more.

This time, the number had swelled to nearly a hundred eager boys and girls. The male students came for one reason alone—to set their eyes on the new beauty, to confirm whether the rumors they had heard in every corridor were true.

The female students, however, came with brighter expectations—to see for themselves if there truly was a gentle new teacher who would answer their questions with patience and kindness, someone different from the usual harsh and distant instructors of the academy.

What they found was not only what they had hoped for, but far more. Morgana was not just beautiful—her presence was overwhelming, her aura was intoxicating. And yet, her lectures were surprisingly practical. She offered valuable advice, spoke with a clarity that cut through the usual dullness of technical lectures, and—most astonishingly—she opened almost half of every session for questions. For these students, it was the first time in their lives that they had seen a Royal Soul Mistress show such humility and grace, lowering herself to the level of ordinary students without arrogance.

It was no wonder, then, that the following week nearly a thousand students flooded the hall!!!

The situation escalated so wildly that Althera herself was forced to intervene. The free admission to Morgana's lectures was immediately canceled, and a steep price was set for anyone who wished to attend from that day onward.

These restrictions did slow the flood somewhat; now, attending Morgana's classes came at a cost. The other teachers in the academy breathed sighs of relief, glad that the chaos would finally settle down. To them, the uproar had been frustrating, even demoralizing.

But to their absolute shock, the very next week, more than 800 students still crowded into Morgana's lectures. And week after week, the number continued to grow, like a tide no wall could hold back.

By the end of the first year, her class had reached nearly 2,000 students. Almost every soul student who, for one reason or another, had not joined Professor Barok's class found themselves drifting into hers instead!!

And yet, despite this massive growth, Morgana's approach never changed. She still lectured with the same calm voice, the same unhurried tone. She still spent half the time answering questions, listening to even the smallest voices in the hall. Sometimes she laughed with groups of girls, sometimes she joined them on outings to restaurants and cafés across the planet, and sometimes she even strolled with them through the library aisles, helping them choose which books to study.

Even Morgana herself could not quite explain why she did it… Did she see them as younger sisters? As children of her own? Or perhaps as friends—companions with whom she was simply trying to relive, or even replace, the childhood she never had?

Whatever the answer, she discovered that she liked this life. For her, this was infinitely better than solitude.

And for her students, her unique style became a sensation—an approach that spread by word of mouth like wildfire.

By the end of the first year, substitute teacher Morgana had already become one of the wealthiest and most celebrated instructors in the entire academy. Her students, too, were beginning to show remarkable progress, their results shining brighter with each season.

By the end of the first decade, her reputation as the gentle teacher —and as a Royal Soul Mistress— had spread far beyond the academy walls. The outstanding achievements of her students in the field of soul arts in general, and especially in the mastery of soul creatures, brought her fame across planets. Many new students joined the academy not for its prestige, nor for its heritage, but for one reason only: to learn under Morgana.

By the end of the second decade, her class had risen to compete for the very top positions in every academic field. In the Student War Arena, her students secured three of the top ten ranks. As for the rest, every single one of them was placed within the top ten thousand—out of a hundred thousand students in the academy!!!

The outcome was undeniable.

The third decade of her tenure was not even over yet, and already Morgana's class had swollen to nearly 5,000 students—most of them having come from outside the academy itself, drawn across worlds for a single purpose:

To sit at the feet of Morgana.