The crowd was still recovering from Ethan's shocking display when the principal of No. 3 Middle School silently clenched his fists.
Next to him, his grandmother—the former headmistress—stood up abruptly, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. Her hands, shaking uncontrollably, told the story of a storm of emotion surging inside her.
But her trembling wasn't just from Ethan's overwhelming combat skill.
Instead, it was from something deeper—something more personal.
"I told you," she whispered, voice barely above a breath, "my grandson is extraordinary."
The principal of No. 3 Middle School blinked, unsure whether to smile or stay silent.
She continued, her voice cracking as she looked at Ethan's performance on the field, "That skill... is it 'Sandstone Vortex'?"
He nodded slowly. "Yes. It's the same one I gave Tian'er back then. There's no mistaking it."
Tian'er.
Their late grandson.
The moment hung heavy in the air. It was a strange, bitter coincidence.
Ethan had not only chosen the same profession as Tian'er but had also unlocked the very same skill.
The grandmother's face darkened.
A deep memory returned, one full of pain.
Her eyes turned sharp. "You didn't... withhold this skill from him on purpose back then, did you?"
The principal looked at her in disbelief. "Do you really think I'd do something like that?"
She didn't answer.
Silence stretched between them.
She knew how much her son had loved Tian'er. In the name of justice, he had paid dearly. His beasts were slain, his spiritual space shattered, his body broken. All for a battle he couldn't win.
He wouldn't make light of it.
But the grandmother still held onto her cold gaze. "You don't expect this Ethan kid to avenge us, do you? He's strong, yes—but with just an S-rank talent? Don't expect me to help him grow just because he uses the same skill as Tian'er."
Her voice was firm. She was not one to be easily swayed.
The principal laughed softly. "If I truly wanted revenge, do you think I'd still be here like this?"
He looked out toward Ethan again.
"I don't care about vengeance anymore."
"All I want now is for Ethan to grow up strong, healthy, and happy. I hope he never learns about us, or what happened. I just want to live long enough to see the day he gets married."
His voice cracked slightly, but he smiled as he gazed at the boy below, now surrounded by admiration and awe.
His snowy-white hair caught the sunlight as he added, "Let me make one thing clear—I have never seen Ethan as a substitute for Tian'er."
"Tian'er is Tian'er. Ethan is Ethan."
At that, the grandmother's eyes softened, though only slightly.
She remembered everything: the battles, the loss, the pain.
Her grandson had died while her son returned home shattered and empty.
She blamed him.
Why hadn't he waited?
Why hadn't he let her consolidate power in the family before launching a revenge campaign?
She wanted to avenge Tian'er together—but by the time she was ready, the principal had already disappeared.
They hadn't spoken in ten years.
She had thought he ran from it all.
But now... she finally understood.
He hadn't wanted revenge. He hadn't even expected justice.
He just wanted distance.
To protect her, to remove himself from the family burden, and to let go of the guilt. All this time, she had misunderstood him.
And now that Ethan had appeared, using that same skill... she had assumed the worst again.
She had thought Ethan was a pawn—a substitute child recruited for vengeance.
But as the principal's calm voice echoed beside her, she realized how wrong she had been—again.
Just as she was lost in these swirling emotions, the principal gently placed his hand over hers, still resting on his shoulder.
His voice turned warm.
"I told you before... my grandson is something special."
She blinked and then smiled softly for the first time.
"He's not bad." Her voice was quiet but sincere. "But if I were to train him... he'd surpass you in no time."
The principal laughed, eyes bright with amusement. "Yes, yes. One of the Four Legends of the Dragon Kingdom would obviously raise someone better than a broken-down old man like me."
And just like that, the ice between them began to melt.
They both looked down as Ethan noticed them waving and hurried toward the stage, trying to avoid the overwhelming attention from the crowd.
Mr. Wong, ever observant, saw Ethan moving toward the stage and quickly raised his voice:
"Student Ethan is currently ranked first! Please continue gathering data. Work quickly—we don't want to delay everyone's leveling!"
His words broke the crowd's focus, and the students returned to their positions.
Ethan reached the stage, bowing slightly. "Principal, you called?"
The principal smiled. "Nothing serious. I just wanted to ask—where did you learn that skill?"
Ethan replied honestly. "It was dropped during my first dungeon run."
The old man nodded with a look of awe.
"Fate truly works in mysterious ways," he said, exchanging a glance with his grandmother.
Still, the principal's tone shifted to a more serious one. "Listen, Ethan. Don't rely too much on that skill."
"Remember, skills cost mana. Once you're drained, you're vulnerable."
"Since you've chosen the path of a magic user, make sure your summoned beasts are trained to protect you. Your survival depends on it."
Ethan nodded, listening intently.
The principal gave him a rare, genuine smile. "You did well today."
Unlike the praise shouted from fellow students, this came from someone who meant it like family.
And it felt different.
Just as the three were speaking quietly, Mr. Wong returned.
This time, however, he didn't look at Ethan right away.
Instead, he turned to the principal.
"I didn't understand it before," Mr. Wong said carefully. "But now... I do."
"I believe you made the right call—students should choose careers that fit them."
"I'll make sure that this year, No. 3 Middle School gets their fair share of the regional resources."
It wasn't flattery—it was acknowledgment. And coming from someone like Mr. Wong, that meant a lot.
He knew the principal didn't care for sweet talk, so he spoke with simple respect and humility.
After finishing his message, Mr. Wong finally turned to Ethan.
He reached into his robe and pulled out two items:
A dark-gold grade material, originally meant for Lily Winters
A silver-grade ring, promised earlier by the principal of No. 1 Middle School
He handed them to Ethan quietly.
"This is your reward for ranking first," Mr. Wong said, keeping his tone even. "Just as we agreed."
Ethan accepted them, unsure how to respond. Before he could speak, Mr. Wong had already turned and walked away, giving the stage back to Ethan and the principal.
The whole exchange had lasted barely a minute, but it left Ethan speechless.
As silence settled, the grandmother suddenly narrowed her eyes.
"I knew I recognized him," she muttered, staring at Mr. Wong's back.
"Do you know who his old friend is?"
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