Re: God of Formation.

"What do you mean there are bandits on the road?" The City Lord asked, his voice laced with disbelief as he looked at his butler with furrowed brows.

For as long as he could remember, there had never been any bandits on the major roads leading to Mystic City.

The area was under the strict jurisdiction of the Mystic Path Academy. No one dared to disrupt its peace.

So where did these bandits suddenly come from?

"My Lord, I don't know," the butler replied, shaking his head helplessly. His face mirrored the City Lord's confusion.

"Then send our men to chase them away. No—better still, kill them all." The City Lord's tone turned cold, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

For bandits to appear so brazenly near Mystic City, they were not just committing crimes, they were openly challenging the authority of the Mystic Path Academy itself.

If the City Lord didn't make an example of them, others might start thinking the academy had grown weak, an easy target to provoke.

"Yes, my Lord. I'll see to it immediately." The butler bowed respectfully before turning to leave.

Once the door closed and he was alone, the City Lord exhaled deeply and rubbed his temples.

Lines of exhaustion creased his forehead.

Since the arrival of Heaven's Blessing, the city has changed drastically.

Many people were restless.

The balance of power was shifting.

He sighed heavily.

"I hope everything we've done is worth it," he muttered to himself.

…

Mystic Path Academy

"Vice Dean, the situation is getting out of hand."

An elderly teacher with a long white beard and tired eyes spoke gravely, holding a thick ledger in his wrinkled hands.

The Vice Dean, dressed in pristine blue robes, looked up from his book.

"Old Guo, what's troubling you? Speak, and I'll do what I can to resolve it." His tone was calm but curious.

"Vice Dean…" Old Guo hesitated before stepping forward and handing him the ledger. "I don't think this is something you can resolve easily."

The Vice Dean frowned and accepted the book.

As he flipped through its pages, his brows gradually furrowed deeper and deeper.

By the time he reached the last page, his expression had completely changed.

From mild curiosity to utter shock.

"How… how could this be?" he exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly as he raised his head to look at Old Guo.

"Everything began three days ago," Old Guo explained gravely.

"One after another, students began withdrawing from the academy. At first, I and several other teachers thought it was nothing serious, but when the numbers kept rising, I knew something was terribly wrong. That's when I decided to report to you."

The Vice Dean's mind raced.

Mystic Path Academy had been one of the most prestigious academies in the region

Why would many students suddenly leave?

"Has the number stopped increasing?" he asked, his tone laced with unease.

Old Guo shook his head gravely.

"No, Vice Dean. The number continues to rise every day. If we don't find a way to stop it soon, by the end of the week we might not have any students left on academy grounds."

'This is bad…' he thought grimly.

"How about the Gong Clan and the Jun Clan?" he asked after a brief pause.

Old Guo sighed. "A few of the Jun Clan's disciples are still here, but most have withdrawn. As for the Gong Clan… they've all left completely."

The Vice Dean closed the ledger slowly and took a deep breath. "I understand. You may return to your duties, Old Guo. I'll handle this matter personally."

Old Guo bowed deeply, concern etched into his face. "Vice Dean, please find a solution soon. The academy's reputation is at stake."

"I will," the Vice Dean replied quietly.

As soon as Old Guo left, the Vice Dean's composed expression vanished.

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

"I need to report this to the Dean," he muttered, striding toward the door.

Outside, a few students caught sight of him hurrying across the courtyard and whispered among themselves.

Even the teachers who greeted him received no acknowledgement. His thoughts were consumed by the growing crisis.

A few minutes later, he arrived at a secluded courtyard near the back of the academy.

It was quiet and serene, surrounded by lush bamboo groves.

He stopped to catch his breath, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.

Before he could knock, a calm, aged voice drifted out from inside the courtyard. "What is troubling you, Little Peng?"

Creak.

The Vice Dean pushed open the courtyard door.

Inside, the Old Dean sat comfortably on a bamboo chair beneath a large tree, sipping tea and enjoying the warm afternoon breeze.

His white hair and beard shimmered under the sunlight.

"Dean…" the Vice Dean began anxiously.

The Old Dean gestured for him to speak. "Tell me what troubles you."

"Yes, Dean." The Vice Dean bowed respectfully before explaining everything that had happened.

The Old Dean listened quietly, his expression calm and unreadable. When the Vice Dean finally finished, he looked at him expectantly.

"Dean, what should we do?" he asked, trying to sound composed despite the panic swirling inside him.

"Nothing," the Old Dean said simply, taking another slow sip of his tea.

The Vice Dean blinked in shock.

"N–Nothing? Dean, if we do nothing, we'll lose everything! Students are the lifeblood of the academy. Without them—"

"Do you think this is ordinary?" the Old Dean interrupted, finally setting his cup down.

The Vice Dean hesitated before shaking his head. "No… it's not. Someone must be behind this."

"Exactly." The Old Dean's eyes glimmered with a faint light. "Someone is pulling the strings, trying to weaken us. But if they wish to play the long game… then we shall let them play."

The Vice Dean frowned. "But, Dean—"

"Little Peng," the Old Dean said softly, his tone both patient and firm.

"Times are changing. We must adapt quickly if we are to survive the new era that is coming. Do not worry about those who resist change, they will be swept aside in due time. For now, go and prepare to welcome the Frostwind students."

Understanding dawned in the Vice Dean's eyes. He bowed deeply. "I understand, Dean."

As he turned to leave, he hesitated and looked back. "Dean… may I ask one thing?"

The Old Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Speak."

"Why do you place everything on this single gamble?"

For a moment, silence filled the courtyard. Then, the Old Dean smiled faintly, his gaze distant and melancholic.

"Because, Little Peng," he said softly, "this is our last chance to escape from our impending doom."