Orien School — the sa day, while Ren had been deep inside the Secret Realm.
A eting was already taking place.
It was being held on the top floor of the main school building, inside a large conference room reserved for important internal matters.
At the mont, the room was noisy. Very noisy.
Teachers were sitting on both sides of a long table, but instead of discussing things calmly like proper staff mbers, many of them were talking over one another. So were arguing a point. So were interrupting soone else’s point.
The only person not participating in the chaos was the one sitting in the main seat at the front.
The principal. Caelan Veyr.
At first glance, Caelan looked like a man in his twenties.
His appearance was almost unfair. He had an extrely handso face, black hair, and a calm, refined bearing that made him look more like the elegant young master of so ancient noble family than the principal of a school. His face carried a natural kindness that, to soone who didn’t know him, could even seem harmless.
But that illusion only lasted until they looked into his eyes.
There was a sharpness there. A kind of quiet majesty. Not the kind that demanded attention by force, but the kind that made it instantly clear he was not soone to challenge casually, ignore lightly, or mistake for a pushover.
And that was without even considering the fact that he was, publicly, registered as a powerful Tier 3 Plant Pathway cultivator.
Publicly.
Caelan watched the teachers argue for a while. Then he gave a small sigh and tapped the table once.
"Silence."
Not a single teacher stopped. The argunt continued like his voice had been background decoration.
Caelan’s expression did not change at first. Then, very slowly, a small smile appeared on his face.
It was a nice smile.
Unfortunately, everyone in that room knew from experience that this was exactly what made it terrifying.
Caelan leaned back slightly and spoke again, a little louder this ti.
"If even one person is still talking and not sitting properly in the next three seconds," he said pleasantly, "then they can co play Caelan’s Special Bungee Jumping Ga with ."
The effect was imdiate.
The entire room froze. Voices died. Chairs straightened. Spines snapped upright.
In less than two seconds, every single teacher was seated properly and facing forward like the most disciplined staff in the country. If a stranger had walked in right then, they might have thought this room had always been perfectly calm.
Seeing the sudden order, Caelan’s smile widened a little. Then he put on an innocent, almost sad expression.
"Ara," he said softly. "I really thought soone would want to play with today."
He rested one cheek lightly on his hand and sighed.
"Poor . Every year I prepare such a fun school activity, and every year all of you cruelly reject my kindness."
Not a single teacher answered. But several lips twitched.
Because every single one of them was thinking the sa thing.
’Poor him my foot.’
This shaless old fox really had no sha at all. Did he not rember what happened the last ti soone got fooled by that innocent-looking face and thought he could ignore his authority?
That poor teacher — newly transferred, still not knowing what kind of principal Caelan really was — had underestimated him. Just once.
Caelan had invited him to "play a little ga."
Afterward, the man had been hospitalized for months. And even after recovering, he still had nightmares, had gone to therapy, and eventually requested a transfer to a different city and a different school.
No one in this room was stupid enough to repeat that mistake.
Caelan let the fake sadness vanish from his face. His expression turned calm again, though the corners of his mouth still held a trace of amusent.
"Good. Now that all of you have rembered how to behave like teachers, let’s continue."
He looked over the table once.
"Everyone has seen this year’s awakening files, right?"
Several teachers nodded. One answered, "Yes, Principal."
Caelan folded his hands on the table.
"This year, sixty-three percent of our students awakened successfully."
That number alone caused a slight stir in the room. Just visible surprise. Because that was high. Very high. Even in a good year, fifty percent was already standard. Anything noticeably above that was enough to get the attention of higher-level educational authorities.
Caelan continued calmly. "Out of that sixty-three percent, the majority fell into expected ranges. Plant Pathway. Bloodline Pathway. A normal distribution between both."
He paused. Then his eyes moved slowly across the room.
"But."
He let the word sit in the room for a few seconds, long enough for every teacher to feel that sothing unusual was coming.
Then he said it.
"This year, a total of seven children in this school have awakened the Bloodline Plant Lord Talent."
For a beat, the room did not react. It was the kind of silence that happens when a number does not imdiately compute.
Then it hit them.
Seven was not a lot. Seven was unprecedented.
In Orien School’s entire recorded history, only three Bloodline Plant Lords had ever awakened. Three. Not in one year. Across centuries. The school’s official founder-era records, the city’s awakening archives, the regional pathway files — all of them combined had only three nas listed under that talent across the entire span the institution had existed.
And now, in a single awakening cycle, seven were sitting sowhere in this school building waiting for their first day of classes.
That was not a high year.
That was the entire previous historical count, more than doubled, in one night.
One teacher with narrow glasses pushed them up his nose and said in a flat, disbelieving tone, "Principal. Seven. Are you certain?"
"If I weren’t certain," Caelan said pleasantly, "I would not be wasting my morning listening to all of you scream in my eting room."
That shut several mouths. Not because his tone was loud. But because everyone in the room knew what kind of principal he was. Caelan did not joke about serious matters. Especially not school records. Especially not cultivation talent records.
A heavy silence settled in. So of the teachers were already trying to do the math in their heads. The numbers refused to settle into anything reasonable.
Caelan let them sit with it for a mont.
Then he tapped the table once more.
"However."
The teachers waited.
"That is the number for Orien."
"The total number for Edius this year — across every recorded awakening, in every school, in every region — is twenty-seven."
For one full second, no one reacted. It was not because they did not understand him. It was because they understood him too well.
Then the room exploded.
"What?!"
"Twenty-seven?! Across the entire planet?!"
"That’s not possible — the Alliance must have miscounted —"
"You’re saying our seven is more than a quarter of every Bloodline Plant Lord on Edius this year?"
Several teachers half-rose from their chairs before catching themselves. One old instructor nearly knocked over the cup beside his hand. Another woman at the far end of the table stared at Caelan as if she was waiting for him to laugh and say it was a joke.
But he did not. He only sat there quietly, watching them with that sa composed expression.
The math hit them all at the sa ti. Edius had hundreds of cities. Hundreds of schools. Hundreds of millions of awakening-aged citizens this year. And the total Bloodline Plant Lord count, across every single one of them, was twenty-seven.
Of those twenty-seven, seven were sitting in Orien.
That was not a normal distribution.
That was a pattern.
Caelan let them process it for a bit longer. Then he said, "Good. Now that all of you have finally rembered how to count, perhaps we can continue the eting like educated people."
No one replied. Which, in this room, was the clearest sign possible that everyone was paying attention.
Caelan’s fingers tapped once against the table.
"I know everyone is shocked," he said, his voice calm. "But you do not need to ask why. Because even if you ask, I will not answer."
That imdiately made several teachers who had already opened their mouths close them again.
"I know the reason. The higher-ups know the reason."
He paused before adding, "And it is not sothing any of you should investigate."
The room beca even quieter. A few teachers exchanged glances. So looked more shocked. So looked suspicious. So clearly wanted to ask anyway. But none of them dared.
Caelan’s gaze swept across the room.
"You only need to know one thing. This is a good thing. Very good."
"And if anyone here gets curious and starts investigating matters they are not supposed to touch — you will get into trouble."
No one spoke.
Because everyone in that room was old enough, experienced enough, and smart enough to understand what that ant. There were things they were supposed to know. And there were things they were supposed to pretend not to know. That was simply how the world worked once a matter beca large enough.
Especially in a world where schools, families, guilds, countries, and the All-Being Survival Alliance all existed under the shadow of survival.
Caelan watched them for a few more seconds, then nodded faintly.
"Good. Now let’s talk about class distribution."
And just like that, the eting moved on.
Class assignnts were debated. Departnt heads argued over the larger Plant and Bloodline Pathway groups. Hours passed in negotiated trades and shifted allocations. Caelan settled the worst disputes with single sentences.
Eventually, the room cald down again. The bigger files thinned. Voices lowered.
And once it was clear that the ordinary class distribution had been mostly settled, Caelan tapped the table again.
This ti, everyone quieted much faster.
"Good. Now —"
He glanced at a locked file still floating separately from the rest.
"Let’s talk about the class for the Bloodline Plant Lord students."
The reaction was imdiate. The room, which had only just cald down, beca noisy all over again.
"I can take that class."
"No, my division is better suited."
"You’re a Plant Pathway teacher, not a Bloodline Plant Lord user."
"And you are?"
"What matters is teaching record —"
"What matters is who can handle seven of them without wasting any —"
For the first ti in a while, even so of the teachers who had stayed quiet earlier were speaking up. Because this was different. The class for the Bloodline Plant Lord students was not like the others. Whoever got that class would automatically receive more internal prestige. More resources. More attention from above. And, if things went well, the future benefits would be enormous.
Caelan let them argue for a few seconds. Then he raised a hand. The room did not quiet imdiately.
So he said, very softly, "Do I need to prepare the rope?"
Silence. Instantly.
A teacher at the far end even straightened so fast it looked painful.
Caelan smiled mildly. "No? Good."
He rested one arm on the chair.
"You don’t need to argue. I have already chosen soone for the class."
That made the silence even stranger. Everyone stared at him. Inside their heads, many of them were practically shouting the sa thing.
Pick . Pick . Pick .
Caelan, however, did not look at any of them. Instead, he turned his head toward the conference room door.
"You can co inside."
The mont he said it, the door opened.
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