"Hm...?"
With each step Robin took toward the towering academic building, his expression shifted—curiosity giving way to disbelief, disbelief lting into sothing akin to nostalgia and faint dread. The structure lood before him like a relic of another age, and yet it pulsed with life.
It had been over one hundred and forty years since he last set foot here—and back then, there had been only seven students scattered through its vast, echoing halls.
In his mory, the place had always been quiet, where a single cough could travel from one corridor to the next. It should’ve been abandoned long ago, left to crumble under layers of dust and ti. At best, he expected to find one or two lazy kids slumbering in a corner.
So why—
"By the heavens, Master... are you the professor here?!" Jabba’s jaw practically dislocated as he stumbled backward, his wide eyes darting around in disbelief. "All of these... are your students?!"
Robin’s gaze followed Jabba’s trembling finger, and even he found himself montarily stunned. The open courtyards and marble staircases were overflowing with life—hundreds of students moving in intricate currents like a living river of intellect and chaos. So exchanged notes animatedly; others sat cross-legged chanting formulas.
Inside, through the archways of the grand auditorium, Robin’s sharp eyes caught the sight of thousands more—filling every seat, every balcony, and every step. The once-empty building had beco a city of scholars, alive with voices, questions, and the hum of raw energy.
"...I think this place is mine?" Robin muttered, raising one eyebrow, his tone caught between irony and confusion. Could it be that, during his long absence, a rumor had spread that the old professor had left the academy forever—prompting every self-proclaid genius in the sector to invade and claim the hall for themselves? The thought was absurd... yet the evidence was right before him.
"..."
He climbed the steps slowly, each footfall echoing faintly, until he reached the massive gate. As soon as he stepped through the entrance, however, he froze mid-stride.
There was no idleness—no slacking, no daydreaming.
Every student in sight was deeply engaged in sothing profound.
Dozens were discussing the laws, tracing mathematical patterns with glowing quills. Others were studying the nature of souls, releasing soul creatures across the open courtyards. In the dueling grounds below the amphitheater, students sparred fiercely, channeling elental force into blinding arcs of light. Even the distant laboratories, visible through transparent panels, were alight with motion, arguing passionately over taphysical equations that would have terrified the average mind.
"Could it be...?" Robin murmured
Acting on instinct, he reached out and stopped a young man passing by. "Hey, you—who’s your instructor here?"
The student blinked, clearly offended. "Do you live under a rock, brother?" he scoffed, brushing Robin’s hand away with a flourish. Then, placing one palm dramatically on his chest, he lifted his chin with reverent pride. "She’s the Professor of Professors, the Teacher of Teachers, the pure and exalted lady— the Supre Morgana!"
His eyes sparkled as if even saying her na filled him with divine inspiration. "And if you’re planning to join her class, forget it! Enrollnt’s been closed for five years now—she entered seclusion to focus on higher enlightennt. Go back to wherever you ca from, old man!"
"Seclusion?" Robin blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. Then he smiled faintly, patting the young man’s shoulder as though consoling a lost child. "Thank you... you can go back to suck on your mother’s tits now."
But his heart was no longer calm.
All these students—here because of Morgana?
Why would she enter seclusion? After her injury, her soul and physical progression had been utterly sealed. No matter how much she trained, she shouldn’t have been able to advance even a single step. For her to attempt such a thing...
"Unless..."
His eyes widened. "Oh no, that’s not good..."
Without another word, Robin dashed forward, his body blurring as he sprinted through the corridors like a bolt of lightning. Startled students turned and shouted as gusts of displaced air rushed past them.
"Hey, what are you doing?!"
"Stop! That’s the substitute teacher’s private quarters!"
Their voices barely reached him. He didn’t slow down, didn’t even glance back. His urgency radiated through every motion, every heartbeat—he was certain sothing was wrong.
At last, he reached the top floor. Without hesitation, he seized the doorknob—click!—but it didn’t budge. The handle was like stone beneath his grip, unmoving, as though fused to the very world itself.
A protective spell. A strong one.
"MORGANA!!" Robin roared, slamming his fist against the door with all his strength. The echoes rolled through the halls like thunder, making the walls tremble.
"Call the guards!" soone shouted from below.
"I’ll stop him myself!" yelled another.
Before the chaos could escalate, Jabba—who had been panting halfway up the staircase—threw up both hands in desperation. "Please, everyone, calm down!" he bellowed, his voice cracking under the strain. "The professor knows what he’s doing—if you must, alert the administration, but do not interfere with him!"
"Out of the way!"
One of the overzealous young students dashed up the stairs and shoved Jabba so hard that the impact sent him sprawling backward, hitting the floor with a painful thud.
"Bff—!" Jabba gasped sharply as pain surged through his chest. Without any layer of protection left to absorb the blow, even a casual push felt like being struck by a hamr. His breathing beca shallow, his hands trembling as he tried to rise.
"Tsk~ pathetic worm," the arrogant student scoffed, looking down at him as if he were so crawling insect. "You? Stop ? Trash like you doesn’t even deserve to polish the steps of the servants’ wing, much less touch the sacred stairs of the professor!" His smirk widened with contempt before he turned away, leaving Jabba coughing and struggling to catch his breath.
"...?"
Robin froze mid-motion, his hand still pressed against Morgana’s sealed door. The faint echo of Jabba’s pain reached his ears, and a dangerous stillness fell over him. Slowly, his head turned toward the sound, his gaze igniting into a glare so sharp it could slice through steel.
Dozens of students were already charging up the staircase, their auras flaring, their faces burning with self-righteous anger.
Robin’s lips curved downward, voice low and filled with venom.
"You children... are courting death."
HUUUM!HUUUM!HUUUM!
At once, the entire corridor shook as dozens of soul gates materialized around him—glowing circles of ethereal light, humming with divine resonance. From within them, his soul creatures erged: towering figures woven from light and shadow, each radiating a wrath that mirrored their master’s fury.
The ground trembled as they stepped forward. Their eyes—if one could call them that—burned with blue fire. No more peaceful errands. No gentle chores. Today was for war.
BAM!BAM!TAAAK!
Below, hundreds of students had gathered at the base of the stairway, craning their necks to see the commotion. They expected a brief scuffle—a foolish intruder being beaten senseless by their peers for daring to disturb the sacred quarters of their beloved professor, Morgana.
But what they witnessed... was carnage.
SWOOOSH!
"AAAAH—!!"
The first group of students who charged upward were blasted backward as if struck by invisible cannons. One after another, they were sent hurtling through the air, slamming against walls, tumbling down the stairs, or colliding into their comrades below. Each face bore a mark—a glowing bruise, a burning handprint, a fist-shaped welt that shimred with spiritual force.
"Wha—what the hell is going on up there?!" a strong student yelled as he caught a female classmate flying straight at him like a launched projectile. He steadied her, eyes wide, then turned upward and bellowed, "You dare attack students, intruder?! Who do you think y—"
Before he could even finish, a white-and-gold soul creature appeared before him in the blink of an eye. The creature towered over him, haloed in radiant energy. It raised one glowing arm high—then SLAAAP!—the strike landed with such force that the boy’s head twisted sideways, his cheek splitting open as a tooth flew from his mouth and clattered against the floor.
"GET. OUT!" Robin’s voice erupted, a roar imbued with pure killing intent that shook the entire hall. "Every last one of you—OUT OF MY HALL!"
HUUUM!HUUUM!HUUUM!
More soul gates tore open all across the upper floors, flooding the air with blinding light.
Though Robin’s order had been strict—no killing, only blows and slaps—the sheer difference in power made resistance futile. Every student who dared to raise a defense, to invoke a law or chant a spell, found themselves flattened in an instant, their techniques shattered before they even reached him.
So summoned their soul force, others wove intricate law formations, and a few unleashed Morgana’s signature enchantnts—but none of it mattered. Each was silenced the sa way: a purple bruise blossoming across their cheek, the echo of a slap still ringing in their ears.
BAAAAM!
The last soul creature threw the final unconscious student out and slamd the massive door shut.
"Arghh—an intruder! An intruder’s attacking the academy!"
"Get the guards! Summon the faculty—now!!"
Down below, chaos reigned. Students scrambled, shouting orders, gathering the injured. Amid the noise, one young woman slowly lifted her head, blood trickling from her lip. She furrowed her brow and muttered under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper—yet the entire room fell eerily silent as her words rippled through the air.
"...Did he just say—’Get out of MY hall’?"
The murmurs began.
"Wait... have you heard the legend? The story about the true professor of this hall..."
"The seniors used to talk about him—said he was a monster who beat them senseless whenever he appeared."
"Soone once claid he nearly killed three students during training!"
"No way... it can’t be..." Another spoke with swollen eyes
A hush swept over the crowd, their faces paling as realization dawned.
And then, in a trembling voice that seed to echo through every heart present—
"...May the heavens have rcy on us all."
User Comments
0 comments from readers