In a room, two people were looking at each other. One of them was a large, elderly man whose presence filled the room. "Is that all?" the man's deep voice echoed in the room. The other was the instructor who was observing the situation in the dungeon at the time. "Yes, Chairman, that's all. Healer Sylvie's ability unexpectedly erupted, and she successfully healed the seriously injured Morse. The extent of Morse's injuries is still unclear, and he left the room shortly after being healed. Sylvie seemed to have awakened her gift during the treatment." The head of the academy, known for his wisdom and strength, listened intently as the instructor described what was happening in the treatment room. The dean stroked his beard, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Morse... that kid again." The dean was very familiar with the name Morse Scott, a child who had been giving him a headache recently. "Do you know him, sir?" The tutor looked at the dean with curiosity. Deans usually do not show interest in low-ranked students, especially those at the bottom of the rankings. "I guess so." The dean's answer was a little mysterious, and also revealed a tone of unwillingness to continue explaining.
The tutor realized that the dean did not want to be questioned about this matter again, so he refocused his attention on the main topic. "So, what do you suggest we do?" she asked, looking at the dean. "I'm not sure the others have noticed the change," the Dean muttered, continuing to stroke his beard. His eyes flickered slightly, as if the magical power around him was gathering towards him. "But we need to be prepared. Times are changing." The dean's gaze became distant, as if he was contemplating the invisible thread of fate. "And this is the first step to change. The stars have begun to move." The tutor looked at the dean but said nothing. Although these words sounded like those from a madman, she knew that the dean had long since transcended the scope of ordinary humans. After all, he was one of the holders of the [Venerable] Seat, and the only reason why this academy could operate independently without interference from outside forces. "Even if they haven't noticed it yet, they will soon realize the changes. That girl needs to understand her destiny." As these words fell, the room was suddenly filled with a large amount of magic power. Boom! With a tap of the dean's cane, the gathered magic power dissipated instantly. "The power of the First Lord... many people will covet it." "The power of the First Lord?" the mentor couldn't help but ask. "What does 'First Lord' mean?" "Heh..." The dean chuckled when he heard the question. "Now I understand." He turned back to his mentor with a smile on his face. "There are some things you shouldn't pry into." His words sounded a little arrogant, but the mentor understood the meaning. "I see." She nodded and lowered her head. "So how should we handle this situation?" "What should we do..." The dean's eyes fell on the documents on the table. Among them was a special document with a photo of Sylvie attached to it. "He was the catalyst for that Sylvie's awakening. So, he could be the key to her path." The instructor nodded, digesting the dean's words. "What do you suggest we do, Chairman?" “Their bond is vital,” the Dean said. “Put Morse and Sylvie together. The tide of fate has brought them together. We must ensure that they navigate this changing landscape together. Their destinies are closely linked, and the future of the College depends on their journey.” The dean stood up from his seat, his expression becoming urgent. "Be prepared for the convergence. Other [Venerables] may already be making plans. We must act cautiously and decisively. The time of change has come, and we will ride this tide to ensure the survival of the Academy."
With these words, the room fell silent again, and the mentor prepared to leave. "I understand, Father." With these last words she disappeared. ...... In a dimly lit room, shrouded in shadows, a man sat on an ancient and eerie throne. His eyes were dark and cold, revealing a sense of boredom, but there was also a subtle and strong hint of darkness flashing in them. Crack! The crackling of the torches made the room seem ancient and eerie. As the air in the room grew more ominous, a figure emerged from the shadows behind the throne. They were shrouded in mysterious darkness, their faces blurred, and their figures walked towards the man sitting on the throne with an awe-inspiring air. “It appears,” the masked figure whispers, a tone of foreboding in his voice. From his hand, several tentacles wriggled, revealing a small ball made of glass. "The prophecy we have all been waiting for has begun to unfold." The man on the throne shifted slightly, his eyes narrowed in interest. "Sooner than we expected." His words echoed in the room, his eyes fixed on the small ball. “This shouldn’t be happening.” His eyes were as black as ink, and his gaze was far away, as if he could penetrate the castle where he lived and see the outside world. The masked figure nodded. "The thread of fate has unravelled earlier than expected. The Saint's awakening should have had more time, and we were prepared for it. But this will change everything." As the masked figure narrates, he waves his hands, creating several silhouettes. One held a bow and arrow, the other a sword. One held a hammer and shield, while the other spewed flames from a staff. Behind them, a small figure kneeled on the ground, in a prayer gesture. "..." The man on the throne did not answer, he stood up. His eyes stared through the sky and narrowed. Turning to the small silhouettes, his eyes locked on the black silhouette in the front holding a spear. "Something is... different." He murmured quietly, a hint of alarm in his voice, "Something that shouldn't be there... appears." As if he could predict the future, his body trembled involuntarily and goose bumps appeared all over his body. Tick! He touched the small ball with his long claws. As he moved, magic power flowed smoothly into the ball and gathered at the core of the ball. As the mana flowed from the top of the man's head to the sphere, his form began to change, with sharp horns gradually growing on his head and his skin turning as pale as paper. His original human appearance gradually faded, revealing his true form, with a pair of horns growing from his head and a pair of giant wings suddenly spreading out from behind him. The sphere slowly rotates in the masked figure's hands, and the scene inside unfolds again. Six different figures appeared one by one, each holding a weapon that symbolized their status. One held a long sword, another held a long bow, the third held a staff, and the fourth held a shield and a hammer. The fifth figure put his hands together in prayer, and the one in the front was the silhouette holding a spear.
"Everything... is still the same as before." The masked figure whispered to himself, with a hint of complicated emotions in his tone. The man on the throne looked at this familiar scene, his eyes narrowed slightly. This was the prophecy they had witnessed many years ago, the scene of the Saint and the Guardians facing the mighty army. "etc……" However, as the scene continued to unfold, an unexpected change broke the original trajectory. A mysterious smoke suddenly enveloped the sphere, submerging the figures of the six people in a hazy state. Behind them, a new silhouette quietly emerged. This figure was completely different from the others, and there was an elusive weirdness in his actions. "What?" The man's eyes suddenly widened, surprise and uneasiness intertwined on his face. The sudden change in the prophecy awakened a long-lost feeling deep in his heart. It was as if something that had been dormant for a long time was waking up. "My intuition... is warning me." He whispered, with a hint of cold murderous intent in his voice. As the supreme being, he had not experienced this feeling of uneasiness for a long time. “Something…changed the course of fate.” His voice was low and cold, as if foreshadowing the coming storm. However, the mana consumption to maintain the sphere was so great that even he found it strenuous. Tick! Blood dripped from the tip of the man's nose. The power to play with fate and time has its limits, and even the highest beings cannot escape it. “…” The picture in the sphere changed again. The moon and the sun intertwined in the sky, casting an eerie darkness over the world. In this dark curtain, the newly emerged silhouette emitted a faint light, as if it was ignited by the interweaving of celestial bodies. The man felt the symbolic significance of this cosmic interweaving and murmured softly, "Descendants of the moon...one of them still exists." His words were filled with the heaviness of time and a hint of imperceptible worry. The masked figure behind him asked in surprise, "Descendant of the Moon?" A cold light flashed in the man's eyes, as if he was calculating something. "They should no longer exist in this world. I personally wiped out their existence and cut off their fate." This discovery confused him, and a hint of uncertainty broke his usual calm. The existence of the descendants of the moon... "An anomaly," he murmured, his tone filled with deep alarm. This posed a threat to his carefully planned plan... "The agreement is not yet complete..." He said as he slowly walked back to the throne, "Find the child of the moon." His command echoed through the castle, but somewhere in the world, a creature that pierced humans with its claws received it. "Hehehe... It's been a long time..." In the dark night, the figure laughed strangely. "It was six years ago... That girl... She was delicious..."