Everyone looked up at the sky. High above, a slender old man with an air of wisdom and grace hovered midair, wearing a casual training uniform. His gray hair gleamed under the sun as if radiating its own light.
Behind him, a sea of flames stretched out, capable of engulfing the entire planet. The sheer heat distorted the firmament, making everyone's vision ripple like waves on water.
A golden crow, shimmering with blood-red highlights, materialized behind him. It almost looked solid, like an ancient mythical beast brought to life.
**An SS-level Martial Soul.**
**The Golden Crow.**
**A legendary power, wielded by the greatest warrior of the Westland Federation. The president of the Avalon Martial Soul Academy. A peak Saint-level combatant. Samuel Hawthorne.**
The appearance of the Golden Crow alone was enough to make entire armies of demons tremble in fear.
**"Samuel Hawthorne!"**
"Unbelievable! Even the greatest powerhouse of the Federation has been moved by this SSS-level Martial Soul!"
"With this, Jason Knight has truly ascended! No one can stand in his way now!"
"This is like a fairy tale—a commoner soaring to unimaginable heights!"
"Damn it, I should have pushed my daughter to marry him when he was just a nobody!"
"Let me tell you, his parents once suggested a childhood betrothal with my family, but I declined because they were too poor. Biggest regret of my life!"
In the next instant, the inferno in the sky vanished, and Samuel Hawthorne descended in a flash, appearing right in front of Jason Knight.
"Hello there, young man. Hehe, you must be Jason Knight, the SSS-level Martial Soul prodigy. I'm Samuel Hawthorne, headmaster of Avalon Academy. A pleasure to meet you!"
Samuel's smile was warm and grandfatherly, so much so that Jason was momentarily stunned. He had only ever seen this figure in news reports, a man whose Golden Crow Martial Soul had obliterated armies of demons without hesitation.
But this man, a legend known for his ruthlessness, was now smiling as kindly as an old neighbor.
Jason quickly extended his hands and shook hands firmly with the most powerful figure in the Federation.
"Good, good," Samuel said, nodding approvingly. "A Golden Holy Dragon. Such a commanding presence. Even my Golden Crow feels humbled before it. Truly worthy of being the strongest Martial Soul among the Dragon Clan."
The admiration in Samuel's eyes was genuine and unconcealed.
"Headmaster Hawthorne! Headmaster Hawthorne!" shouted a voice from the crowd.
A man rushed forward—Robert Dorne, the mayor of Valcrest City. His face was flushed with excitement as he tried to insert himself into the interaction.
But Samuel's expression turned cold, his smile disappearing in an instant. He frowned and gave the mayor a barely perceptible shake of the head.
The Westland Federation had too many cities for someone like Samuel to bother remembering every mayor. Only those with significant achievements or who had reached Saint-level power earned a place in his mind. A small city like Valcrest? Insignificant.
"I'm a graduate of the 25th Avalon Academy class!" Mayor Dorne stammered, desperately trying to establish a connection.
"A graduate of Avalon Academy?" Samuel replied dispassionately. "Well, you've nurtured an unprecedented talent. Good job."
Though the praise was perfunctory, it was enough to send Mayor Dorne's heart soaring. He turned to Jason, exclaiming loudly, "Jason, I've watched you grow since you were a boy. Such talent! Such promise! I always knew you'd achieve greatness!"
"And my son is very talented too. An A-rank Martial Soul! Perhaps, as a favor to me, you could let him join the academy as an inner disciple?"
Dorne's son turned crimson with embarrassment. He wanted to disappear. This wasn't just a social faux pas; it was a disaster. Jason could have him erased from existence with a single word.
Meanwhile, Sophie Glynne, standing among the crowd, looked pale and frail, as though the life had drained from her body. If there was a medicine to undo regret, she would give anything for it.
But Samuel ignored the mayor entirely. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
Suddenly, a booming laugh echoed across the sky.
"Hawthorne, you old dog! You really think you can claim this prodigy all for yourself?"
The sky split open, and an array of divine swords descended from the heavens, forming a brilliant, blinding formation. Each sword radiated immense spiritual power, making it hard for anyone to look directly at them—anyone except Samuel.
The swords vanished, and a tall, imposing figure stepped through the rift. His presence was sharp and unyielding, like the edge of a blade.
**"Marcus Reid, headmaster of Nexus Martial Soul Academy."**
Another legend. Another powerhouse. One of the few who could rival Samuel Hawthorne for the title of strongest in the Federation. His Divine Sword Martial Soul was also an SS-level power, feared across countless battlefields.
"An SSS-level Martial Soul, huh? No wonder it drew you here, Hawthorne. But don't think you can take him without a fight!"
Samuel's kind demeanor vanished. He rolled up his sleeves, and the temperature around him began to rise dangerously. Flames licked at the air, ready to ignite at any moment.
"And what exactly are you going to do about it, Reid? Think you're stronger than me now?"
Marcus smirked, a single sword materializing behind him. Its aura was sharp enough to make the air itself vibrate.
"Enough!"
A third voice cut through the tension.
Two more figures appeared in the sky, their presence equally commanding. It was clear that the heads of all four major Martial Soul Academies were converging.
The arrival of these four titans left the crowd in awe. Whispers filled the air.
"The Federation's strongest warriors, all in one place…"
"This is unprecedented! Even the demon race must be trembling right now."
Before the tension could escalate further, another voice boomed from the heavens.
"Hawthorne, Reid… You old fools think you can decide everything? The Four Great Families have a stake in this too!"
As the leaders of the Federation's Four Great Families descended, the sky itself seemed ready to collapse under the weight of so many legendary figures.