Having a mentor or an idol to guide one's fate was the ultimate determining factor. As he sat among these students, William made a silent vow.
He wouldn't lead them—he had no interest in the muddy waters of academy politics or being the "King of Commoners"—but he would watch.
If he found a single soul among these kids who was truly worthy, who possessed that rare, unbreakable spark, he would support them from the shadows.
"I can see we have two new faces among us today."
The voice cut through William's ruminations. The Class Master had begun the session. He was a middle-aged man draped in a long white robe that seemed to shimmer with its own inner light, topped with a silver cape that spoke of high rank.
His face was unnervingly calm—so serene that if William didn't know better, he might have suspected the man wasn't a spirit master at all, but a common scholar. However, William knew that such absolute stillness usually hid a sea of unfathomable power.
