Michael’s first impression of Brian had been simple.
The old man was powerful.
His second impression—what had stuck with him the most before they started interacting more—was that Brian was incredibly blunt.
Kind? Maybe.
But even that kindness came with a certain sharpness, a no-nonsense edge that didn’t care for relationships or pleasantries.
That was Brian.
Michael almost blurted out, “You’re mean,” but held his tongue.
In any case, it seemed like his family was fine—and that was what truly mattered.
Of course, Michael still wanted to confirm it with his own eyes.
But before he could even ask where they were, the world around him shifted.
In a flash, he found himself floating midair beside Brian.
On instinct, his undead snapped to a combat stance.
Though Michael was just as surprised, his trust in Brian ran deep—deep enough that his immediate reaction was to calm his undead before they moved.
However before Michael could speak, Brian beat him to it.
However, before Michael could speak, Brian beat him to it.
“What happened to you, kid?”
Michael met the old man’s sharp gaze. From the very beginning, he’d noticed Brian’s observant eyes, constantly analyzing him like an open book.
“I got an opportunity in the Land of Origin,” Michael answered calmly. “I didn’t actually advance.”
It wasn’t a lie, not really. But it wasn’t the full truth either.
Brian didn’t say anything for a few seconds. His silence was more pressing than a dozen questions. Michael could feel his scrutiny deepen.
“I see,” Brian finally said, voice slow.
For a moment, Michael thought the old man believed him—until Brian started listing things.
“Your body,” he began. “It’s near flawless. Like it was sculpted from the best materials available.”
Michael blinked.
“Your skin—smooth, tight, and vibrant. Even those ‘Holy Children’—you know, the ones raised from birth on body-cleansing treasures—would look dull standing next to you. I’ve seen them. You’re shining brighter.”
Michael didn’t even know what a “Holy Child” was, but he wasn’t given a chance to ask.
“And then your face…” Brian paused, his tone suddenly weird. “Beautiful. Not handsome—beautiful.”
Michael’s eye twitched. “Teacher Brian…”
“What? I’m just saying what I see,” Brian shrugged with a completely serious face.
Michael turned his face slightly, expression unreadable. If he wasn’t used to Brian’s bluntness, he might’ve actually thought the old man was mocking him.
However, in his heart he was starting to understand Brian current action.
His form after evolving was surely the cause of all this.
In fact if anyone familiar with him didn’t notice anything different about him, that would say a lot….
“And finally…” Brian’s tone grew more thoughtful. “The mana. It clings to you. No, more like… it wants to serve you. That kind of passive mana attraction…”
He looked at Michael again, sharp and unblinking.
“It’s similar to those naughty elves,” Brian said, squinting at Michael. “Except you don’t have long ears.”
Michael blinked.
Elves?
Teacher Brian had met real elves?
A mix of confusion, curiosity, and a little suspicion flickered through him.
“There’s only one high race that shares traits with elves,” Brian continued, voice low.
Michael suddenly felt a sense of foreboding.
“High Humans. A neutral race,” Brian said slowly, each word weighted.
Then he gave Michael a pointed look.
“How did you become a High Human, kid?”
“No, no—I shouldn’t be asking about your opportunities,” Brian muttered, shaking his head.
But that didn’t stop him from commenting anyway.
“Still… you’re one lucky bastard, kid. Stumbling upon a treasure that could change your race. I suppose only in a place like the Land of Origin could a weakling like you luck into something so absurdly precious..”
Michael’s eye twitched, but he held his tongue.
It was clear Brian still believed the race change was some sort of opportunity—and Michael had no plans to correct him.
If anything, that misunderstanding worked in his favor.
Still… it seemed the change to his race was more obvious than he thought.
He’d assumed cutting his hair would be enough to hide it.
He was too naive.
And… was that envy he’d heard in Brian’s voice?
Michael couldn’t help but be shocked by the thought.
Brian—the man who looked down on Awakeners, who dismissed anything related to the system or its strange phenomena—envying something he gained from the Land of Origin?
Was the High Human race really that special?
Michael treasured his new race, of course, but was it that valuable?
His curiosity flared…
Unable to hold it in, he looked at Brian and asked, “Is the High Human race really that special, Teacher Brian?”
Brian snorted, eyes narrowing.
“You idiot. You think I’d praise you if it wasn’t?”
Michael flinched slightly, more from the tone than the words.
“The High Human race isn’t just special—it’s absurd,” Brian said bluntly. “Even among high races like the Elves or the Dragons, at their peak, High Humans aren’t inferior. Not even close.”
His gaze turned sharp, his voice calm but with an undertone of weight. “You think I’m just saying this for fun?”
Michael opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Can’t you feel it?” Brian asked suddenly, voice dipping. “That power inside you—it’s not something a normal human would have. Imagine you were still human right now. Same rank, same experience, same effort…”
He raised a brow.
“Now imagine fighting yourself—your old human self—against your current body as a High Human. Who wins?”
Michael paused, really thought about it.
The answer was obvious.
And honestly? A little terrifying.
Brian continued, voice quieter now, like he was speaking more to himself. “Advancing through ranks gives you more power. But changing your race—especially to something like this—changes your foundation. That’s the difference between stacking bricks and forging steel.”
Michael remained silent, but inwardly, he began to understand why Brian had reacted so strongly.
However, there was also something Michael was curious about.
“Teacher Brian?”
“Yes?”
“You’ve seen a lot of races?”
“Quite a few.”
“Are demons part of them?”
The question made Brian pause.”You’re talking about the incident, right?”
“Yes.”
Brian immediately knew what he meant.
The recent chaos caused by the demonic supernaturals.
But what most people didn’t know was that those beings had been acting in collaboration with actual demons.
The only reason Michael was even aware of that truth was because of what he had seen with his own eyes.
The first time he ever encountered a demonic cultivator, they had used a certain material to summon those cracks.
Demon remains.
It had haunted him ever since.
Now, hearing Brian talk about races—Elves, Dragons, High Humans—Michael couldn’t help but wonder.
Were demons included in that grand scale too?
Or were they monsters like he had also suspected?
Michael caught a flicker of conflict on Brian’s face before it quickly returned to his usual indifferent expression.
“Don’t ask those kinds of questions now,” Brian said, his voice low. “You’ll understand once you enter an academy.”
He turned to stare directly at Michael and added, “Which, given your current condition… shouldn’t be hard.”
Michael frowned, disappointed by the abrupt dismissal. But the moment he heard the word academy, his eyes lit up.
This—this was why he loved talking to the old man.
Brian was a walking library.
A mean, grumpy library… but still a library!
“Can you tell me something about the academy, Teacher Brian?” Michael asked, hopeful.
Fortunately, this time, Brian didn’t dodge the question.
“As you probably know, there are two main types of academies,” he said. “One caters to Cultivators, the other to Awakeners.”
Brian continued, his voice steady and firm.
“Let’s start with the Cultivation academies. They’re older. Much older. They’ve existed before the Awakener system was even a thing.”
Michael listened intently.
“Their goal is simple: build a foundation for their students. There are no shortcuts in cultivation. No stats. No panels. Just you, your body, and the path you carve.”
Brian glanced at Michael. “Which is why I find it hilarious when system kids act superior. You think some floating numbers and flashy abilities make you strong? Cultivators crush that kind of arrogance before breakfast.”
Michael didn’t respond, though his lips twitched slightly. Classic Brian.
“Each student walks their own Path. Some focus on body refining. Others on magic, energy control, spiritual projection, weapon paths, or alchemy.”
Brian folded his arms. “But it’s not just about strength. Cultivation academies also teach you about the world. Other races, their habits, histories, weaknesses. You want to understand elves, dragons, beastkin? You’ll learn. That’s why I said to wait.”
Michael tilted his head.
Brian’s tone turned dry. “Compared to the Awakeners’ academy, it looks more like a pure school.”
“It’s more like an organization,” Brian said with a shrug. “I’m a cultivator, so I can’t speak much on their system. Take my words as a grain of sand.”
He paused, then added, “I know they teach and train and all that. But honestly? It just feels like a watered-down version—or maybe about the same level—as the Supers Association and its members.”
Michael blinked.
The cultivation academy he understood.
But the Awakeners’ academy?
Michael shook his head.