Now my destination was the Celestara Academy.
It would take about a day and a half to reach from here.
I know, I said earlier that it takes just one day to travel from Celestara Academy to the Coalition of Twelve Lords — so, have the continents stretched and I didn't tell you?
Nope.
What I meant was the border. But right now, I'm further inside, so deal with it.
Well, in any case, my trip is going smoothly.
No idiot trying to buy my wyvern, and I don't need to land for such a short journey.
I've also been using my status as the Twelfth Lord quite a lot recently.
Now, where should I keep Aero?
Maybe the mountain behind the academy would be a good place.
I've placed an emblem on him to show that he belongs to me, so no one should attack him.
And I also taught Aero not to attack humans — so I'm not worried that he'll start killing and eating them.
And no, I didn't teach Aero that because I think every life is precious.
That sounded wrong.
What I mean is — I do think every life is precious, but I don't consider human life more valuable than, say, a fish's.
Like those hypocrites who say, "Life is precious," while eating fish.
My motto is simple — don't harm, but once it's convenient, don't stop.
Anyway, the real reason I taught Aero not to attack humans is because there are too many hypocrites — and others who use those hypocrites as weapons.
If Aero ever got caught attacking humans, I wouldn't know how to handle it.
Don't misunderstand — I'd kill the witnesses in a heartbeat.
But what if one of them was a Powerhouse?
I could still kill him, sure, but if I kill too many, humans will grow weak against demons.
So, for now, I want to avoid that kind of situation.
And if someone attacks Aero first?
Well, he bears my emblem.
Attacking Aero is the same as attacking me — and I'll kill that person, even if it's a student, even if I have to do it right in front of the Principal.
And so, I finally reached the academy city.
I placed Aero inside the mountain behind the academy.
Technically, I shouldn't let him inside the city, but the mountain is so large that it's hard to tell exactly where the city's border ends.
If anyone complains, I'll just say it was an accident.
Then I teleported a few times and arrived in front of the academy gates.
The guards spotted me and approached.
"Student, please keep your ID visible. For now, show it to us."
Well, since I'm about the same age as the students, they probably assumed I was one.
If I looked older, they might've asked for documents to verify my entry.
I didn't take out my ID.
Instead, I raised my hand, showing the ring that signifies I'm the Twelfth Lord.
I've been using this ring way too often.
At this point, I might as well be a husband using it to prove I'm taken.
The guards stiffened and saluted.
"I've been informed of your arrival. Please allow me to call someone to guide you."
I shook my head and said, showing my old student ID,
"I was once a student here, so don't bother."
The guards exchanged glances, clearly hesitant.
But they couldn't keep me waiting — not with my status — so they let me in.
As I walked through the gates, memories surfaced — where the carriage dropped me off, the spot I used to spy from, and where I fell.
Remembering all that made me laugh.
People nearby looked at me, but didn't pay much attention.
I sighed and moved toward the building where the teachers' offices and the Principal's office were located.
Inside, I approached the reception desk.
The receptionist, seeing my casual attire, advised kindly,
"Student, I'd suggest coming here in uniform. It's not a strict rule, but some teachers dislike it otherwise. If they happen to teach you, it might cause trouble."
I nodded and thanked her for the advice.
Then she asked,
"So, student, which teacher do you want to meet?"
It wasn't that she was stopping me — just making sure the teacher I sought was available.
I replied,
"I want to meet the Principal."
She asked,
"Do you have an appointment?"
Right. Not even students can meet him easily.
I smirked and placed my ringed hand on the desk.
"I believe I do."
Her eyes widened as she recognized the ring.
She immediately stood and bowed slightly.
"I apologize for my disrespect. Please allow me to inform the Principal right away."
I waved my hand.
"No offense taken. Oh, and please do inform him."
I was softer on her — not because she was a woman, but because she had been kind enough to offer advice when she didn't need to.
It might not seem like much, but in her line of work, she must have said the same thing countless times. Over the years, she could've become numb to it — and many nobles might've been offended by her advice. She isn't required to give such warnings. She did it to help due to her kindness.
Yet she still gave it.
That deserved respect.
She soon returned and said,
"Please go to the Principal's office."
I nodded and walked there.
Standing before the office, I knocked twice.
Knock. Knock.
A deep voice came from inside.
"Come in, please."
I opened the door and entered.
The first thing I saw was an expressionless man.
Instantly, memories from my first day in this world flashed through my mind — I'd seen him on stage when I clapped after his speech though I was not supposed to.
And once in a dream which terrifyed me to the core. I woke up due to the dream and my emotions took time to get stabilize.
yet I'd never caught his full appearance. I didn't had time , maybe mentality?
---
When I first saw the Principal of Celestara Academy with all the Nature Force I have gathered and understood far more than ordinary senses could, I understood why even the strongest hesitated to speak his name lightly.
He wasn't imposing in the usual sense — no oppressive aura, no roaring mana filling the air — yet the world itself seemed to pause around him.
The faint hum of mana that always lingered in the academy vanished, as if reality held its breath in his presence.
He stood tall, neither frail nor overly muscular — perfectly balanced, his posture naturally straight, as though gravity itself dared not bend him.
His hair, a pale ashen silver, flowed just past his shoulders, each strand faintly catching the light as if infused with moonlight.
His skin was pale — not from weakness, but from being untouched by mortal warmth, as if sunlight no longer dared to touch him.
His face was the most unsettling part — expressionless, utterly devoid of emotion.
Not the emptiness of someone who'd forgotten how to feel, but of one who had transcended the need to show emotion at all.
His eyes, though, betrayed him slightly — a deep shade of blue, no, deeper — like the color of the sky seen through an endless abyss.
When he looked at someone, it wasn't seeing — it was dissecting.
Every glance stripped away pretense, armor, and lies until only the truth remained.
And yet, there was calm in that gaze — cold, timeless calm, the kind found in ancient glaciers or the endless sea under moonlight.
Even when I looked directly into his eyes, I felt neither warmth nor hostility — only balance.
Perfect equilibrium.
The stillness that comes just before a storm — or just after one has erased everything.
His robes were simple, yet impossible to ignore — black, threaded with faint silver lines that shifted subtly as he moved, forming patterns that never repeated.
Runes of concealment and command, woven into the very fabric.
No ornament, insignia, or emblem declared his authority — he didn't need them.
He was authority.
Even the air around him behaved differently.
It didn't grow heavy — it simply stopped.
Mana particles refused to drift too close, forming a still perimeter around him, as though the laws of nature themselves were cautious in his presence.
When he breathed, even the air seemed deliberate — each exhale carrying the rhythm of something ancient, quiet, and absolute.
I'd heard countless titles for him: Archsage of the Sevenfold Path, Keeper of the Astral Archives, The Silent Sovereign.
But none of them truly fit.
They were just attempts by lesser minds to define something that couldn't be defined.
To stand before him was to stand before balance itself — not good, not evil, not chaos, nor order.
Simply existence — pure and unyielding.
Not influenced by small things as political situations.
And yet, what unnerved me most wasn't his strength or the stillness that followed him —
It was the haunting suspicion that if he ever did smile…
the world itself might not survive it.
He was Lio, the Principal of Celestara Academy.