Deep within the inner sanctum of the Imperial Academy, an architectural marvel carved from ancient, world-synchronizing white spirit stone, thousands of Master Teachers sat in designated, ascending tiers of semicircular stadium seating.

The atmosphere within this grand viewing amphitheater was thick with the silent, vibrating tension of a gathering of pure intellect and spiritual wisdom.

Thousands of minds, none below the rank of an 8th rank Master Teacher, remained entirely focused on the center of the hall, where a massive, country-sized holographic projection screen actively illuminated the dim chamber.

The screen hovered like a miniature sky, casting a soft, blue-and-gold light over the serious faces of the faculty as they watched every single movement of the ongoing trial with razor-sharp, clinical precision.

On a remarkably high, isolated platform that floated above the main tiers of the faculty, ten ancient, majestic elders sat upon magnificent golden thrones that radiated an absolute, world shattering spiritual pressure.

They were the legendary Ten Sages of the Imperial Academy, individuals whose very names were whispered with absolute reverence across the infinite star systems.

Their cultivation bases alone were enough to alter the weather of an region; half of them currently sat firmly at the absolute peak of the Earthly Saint Realm, while the remaining five had already successfully smashed through those mortal limitations to reside within the terrifying boundaries of the Heavenly Saint Realm.

Yet, what made them truly untouchable within the hierarchy of the Tian Yuan Empire was not their raw martial output, but it was their professional status.

Every single one of them was an absolute Rank 10 Master Teacher, possessing a depth of pedagogical wisdom that could guide a common beggar to shatter the heavens.

The Venerable Sky Cloud was one of them, seated directly at the far right position of the high platform.

He was universally considered the undisputed leader and premier voice of the Ten Sages, and his current level of comprehension was recognized by the world’s core as being the absolute closest to finally getting promoted to the legendary, mythical status of a Rank 11 Master Teacher—a rank that hadn’t been actively held by a living human since the dawn of the current epoch.

Even the legendary Shen Clan has no Master Teacher that is close to his level.

Positioned right beside their floating golden thrones, a man with exceptionally long, flowing jet-black hair and a pair of deep, incredibly cold blue eyes sat in an imposing, regal posture upon an enormous, gold-trimmed dragon throne that seemed to actively consume the ambient spiritual energy of the room.

He was draped in a majestic purple imperial robe embroidered with the images of nine ascending golden dragons that subtly shifted their claws across the silk fabric with every breath he took.

He was Emperor Xu, the current absolute ruler and supreme sovereign of the grand Tian Yuan Empire.

"Honored Sages of the realm, if I may be so bold, I would highly desire to ask your personal thoughts regarding the current display," Emperor Xu spoke, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that carried the innate, calculated dignity of a man who ruled over trillions of lives.

Hearing his voice, almost everyone shifted and stared at him, curious.

Emperor Xu slightly turned his head toward the golden thrones, a faint, polite smile playing on his lips. "The gates have officially opened, and the talents of the empire have entered the steps. Have any of you already chosen someone specific to be your personal disciples among the massive sea of people gathered here today?"

The Ten Sages looked at each other across their floating platforms, a series of brief, silent spiritual transmissions passing between their minds, before they simultaneously shook their heads in a slow, unified disappointment.

"Your Majesty, if you will permit me to be entirely blunt regarding the current state of the empire," said the Tenth Sage, who was the youngest and most progressive of the group, though his voice raspy as he has been in isolation for hundreds of years.

Emperor Xu smiled at him, "Tenth Sage, please."

The tenth sage gestured casually toward the flickering blue light of the holographic projection. "The raw talent and structural foundations of this specific generation, with the absolute, sole exceptions of those elite descendants originating from the core Immortal Lineages, are significantly worse than the previous eras. The cardinal regions are producing nothing but soft, pampered weaklings who rely far too heavily on artificial medicinal pills to inflate their cultivation realms, and the nobles in central regions are, well, nobles."

Emperor Xu’s pale fingers silently clenched the gold-carved armrest of his dragon throne, the sheer force of his grip causing the solid metal to softly groan beneath his sleeve, but he said absolutely nothing in response, his expression remaining perfectly controlled as he maintained his practiced, imperial smile.

He knew the Tenth Sage was subtly mocking the decay of the empire’s internal provinces, which fell directly under the jurisdiction of the Imperial court.

The Ninth Sage, noticing the sudden, dangerous drop in the Emperor’s ambient temperature and not wanting to unnecessarily embarrass the sovereign any further in front of the thousands of watching faculty members, decided to smoothly interject and steer the conversation away from the decay.

"However, if we are to look closely at the royal lineage, it explicitly seems that your Third Prince, Xu Jingshan, is performing rather exceptionally. His talent is quite commendable, not in anyway inferior to the disciples of Immortal Sects."

The massive holographic image in the center of the hall instantly shifted its focus, zooming in to display the steady, muscular figure of Xu Jingshan.

The prince was climbing the gravity-fortified stairs with an unhurried, rhythmic pace, his posture perfectly straight, his breathing completely light, and his face entirely unbothered by the crushing pressure of the ancestral arrays multiplying around his ankles.

"True, his foundation is indeed remarkably solid," the Eighth Sage chimed in, nodding his head in mild approval as he stroked his silver beard. "But if we are to compare his current performance to the historical benchmark of the Crown Prince... the..."

The Eighth Sage suddenly, violently shut his mouth mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he realized he had just stepped onto a political landmine, fearing to embarrass the Emperor even further in front of the entire assembly.

A heavy, suffocating silence instantly blanketed the high platform.

The entire amphitheater of Master Teachers seemed to collectively hold their breath, none of them daring to make a single sound as the unmentionable topic was brought to the light.

Everyone in the room, from the lowest assistant instructor to the Emperor himself, knew exactly what the Eighth Sage had been about to say.

A few months ago, a horrific, reality-shattering recording had been spread like wildfire throughout every single province, tavern, and grand sect of the empire.

The video explicitly displayed the primary heir to the throne, the Crown Prince himself, crying out in absolute, pathetic terror, openly admitting his own craven cowardice, and thoroughly, completely humiliating his imperial status.

The political fallout from that single incident had been absolutely catastrophic, instantly damaging and destabilizing the divine reputation and absolute authority of the entire Imperial Family to its very core.

The common people began to openly whisper that the royal bloodline had turned thin and weak, which caused the luck of the empire to plummet.

The situation had grown so thoroughly volatile that Emperor Xu had been forced to personally step down from his secluded palace, lead his personal imperial vanguard into the northern wastes, and violently wipe out an entire, hidden demonic sect in a night of absolute slaughter just to forcefully stabilize the empire’s luck and the bleeding damage done to their imperial reputation.

Currently, as a direct consequence of his crimes against the state’s image, the disgraced Crown Prince was also actively participating in this very enrollment ceremony as a form of public penance.

However, instead of walking at the glorious front of the group alongside his brother, he was currently positioned all the way at the absolute, muddy back of the tens of thousands of ascending students.

He was draped in a tattered, tattered grey cloak with a massive hood pulled entirely down to cover his face in absolute, burning shame, desperately trying to avoid the mocking gazes of the nobility.

Emperor Xu took a deep, silent breath, forcing the violent surge of murderous rage back down into his core as he changed the subject entirely, his blue eyes shifting toward the far right of the high platform.

"How about you, Venerable Sky Cloud? You explicitly chose to break your century-long deep seclusion just to personally oversee the enrollment of this specific generation... have you perhaps managed to find a suitable disciple to inherit your mantle among the youths on the screen?"

Venerable Sky Cloud, safely seated on the far right of the ten golden thrones, remained completely silent for a long moment, his deep blue eyes staring intently at the flickering light of the holographic display.

He was an incredibly old, ancient man whose physical appearance resembled a classical immortal from the ancient scrolls, possessing a pair of wisdom-filled blue eyes, long white hair that fell like a silver waterfall past his shoulders, and a pristine white beard that reached down to his waist.

He was wrapped in a simple, unadorned white robe that completely absorbed the gold radiance of his throne.

"Eight hundred years ago..." Venerable Sky Cloud finally spoke, his voice a low, raspy whisper that somehow managed to perfectly carry across every single row of the grand hall, carrying the profound weight of a man who had watched generations turn to dust. "The names of Chu Xueyu, Feng Yuyan, and Leng Shuang violently shook the absolute foundations of the entire Prime Origin Realm. The three of them moved like three unyielding calamities from empire to empire, from continent to continent, and completely, ruthlessly suppressed every single peerless genius, ancient young master, and hidden monster of their entire era. They left absolutely no room for anyone else to breathe under the sun."

The ancient sage’s eyes narrowed into a sharp, gleaming line as the holographic screen shifted to display the flawless, golden-haired figure of Shen Haoran, who was currently walking up the gravity steps with a thoroughly leisurely, elegant stride, his hand resting casually on his sword hilt as if he were simply strolling through his own private gardens.

"Especially that terrifying woman, Chu Xueyu," the old sage continued, his fingers slowly, rhythmically caressing his long white beard. "When she took the path of the Slaughter Dao, a forbidden, blood soaked path that has always been frowned upon and rejected by the core laws of the heavens since the dawn of creation, and single handedly refined it into a proper, legitimate, and balanced Dao of the universe, she effectively forced the very consciousness of the heavens to bow and submit to her personal, unyielding will. She is a monster among monsters."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking entirely onto Haoran’s reflection. "I broke my seclusion today because I highly desire to see with my own eyes if Chu Xueyu’s direct offspring can truly be as outstanding, as unyielding, and as heaven defying as his mother... or perhaps, even more. If I remember correctly, his biological father was that peerless, legendary rogue swordsman, Jiang Chen, the singular man who was officially recognized and praised by the ancient Sword Emperor as being the absolute sharpest blade of his century, right?"

The other nine sages slowly, solemnly nodded their heads in absolute agreement, their expressions turning deeply serious as they recalled the terrifying martial output of that dead swordsman.

It was pity that such a man died from a spatial storm after he married into the Shen Clan, and he couldn’t even see his son grow up.

Beside them, Emperor Xu’s handsome face subtly stiffened for a fraction of a microsecond.

Deep within the dark corners of his imperial heart, an intense, burning wave of bitter, decades old jealousy violently flared up.

He had spent his entire youth desperately desiring to claim Chu Xueyu for his own imperial harem, utilizing every ounce of his empire’s wealth and diplomatic power to court her, yet she had completely, mockingly ignored his status.

He didn’t really mind it, considering her status was higher than him, and he just treated her as unattainable and untainted goddess she can only admire from afar.

Yet more than twenty years ago, she actually went and married that rogue swordsman from who knows where and even given him a son!

’Thank the absolute heavens that the miserable peasant finally died in that spatial storm,’ the Emperor thought to himself with a dark, twisted satisfaction, his smile remaining perfectly frozen on his face.

He stared at Shen Haoran, and couldn’t help but sigh, imagining how good would it be if he was his own son.

His eyes move to other girls around him, and his gaze stopped at a certain black haired, orange eyed girl.

’Hm? Why does that girl look so familiar? Have I seen her before?’

Venerable Sky Cloud continued to slowly caress his white beard, completely unbothered by the Emperor’s internal thoughts, his eyes never leaving the golden youth on the screen.

"The biological offspring of two of the absolute grandest, most peerless geniuses to ever walk the history of our era... Shen Haoran. I want to see what kind of storm he will bring to my academy."