Ethan's heart soared with a quiet thrill. Quests—the lifeblood of advancement in this cultivation world—were everything he had longed for since the day he found himself transmigrated here. This new quest had an A-rank difficulty, a challenge worthy of a true cultivator beginning their journey. The mission was thoughtfully broken into four stages, each promising rewards upon successful completion.
Yet what captured Ethan's attention most was the Special Mission appended quietly at the bottom of the notice:
Special Mission: Attract the interest of the faculty from the academy and encourage them to read books from the Library more frequently. Rewards will be doubled if completed.
Ethan reread the words several times, brows furrowing.
Why had no faculty members ever referred to the library before? Wouldn't such wise, experienced cultivators seek knowledge there—correcting mistakes, honing their teaching, preparing disciples for the world?
Surely, this would have been the surest way for the academy to regain its lost glory, or to at least stabilize its decline.
The thought stung—a tacit admission of failure. Even those who practiced the ancient arts were not infallible. Yet the neglect of their own literary foundation spoke volumes about the academy's spiral toward hopelessness.
Still, Ethan resolved he would complete his quest, Special Mission included if possible, but without obsession. It was enough to have a direction.
He finished his modest dinner—poor nourishment, but his body craved fuel—and rose from the table, steady but alert. Something prickled his senses; heads turned in his direction, eyes fixed and unreadable. A subtle yet unmistakable wave of judgment and curiosity rippled through the room.
Unaware at first, Ethan eventually realized that Ricky and his cronies had stirred the crowd. He forced a casual smile and said aloud just loud enough, "Oh, sorry, I was absorbed in my meal. What were you saying earlier?"
Heads turned fully toward him, jaws slack. Some students even spat out food or coughed violently, unable to believe the blasé response to Ricky's relentless public slander.
For several long minutes, Ricky had berated Ethan and Jake openly, his voice cutting through the murmuring crowd like a whip, damaging their reputations with slurs and insinuations that echoed off the very walls of the dining hall. Yet Ethan had barely lifted his gaze from his food. He had seemed indifferent to the spectacle, as if the accusations were little more to him than distant thunder.
The crowd was aghast. Could anyone really care so little about honor, pride, or personal image? To Ricky's dismay, the more he ranted, the more the spectators' shock deepened—not at Ethan's apparent weakness, but at his unfaltering calm and composure.
Ricky's face twisted into a scowl, humiliation giving way to seething rage. His own carefully constructed speech had been meant to incite shame and rage, to make Ethan squirm and crumble. Instead, Ethan's calm denial had shattered the effect.
"Focus on your food, then," Ricky growled, his voice low and bitter. "Don't you have an ego? Are you truly so shameless? You insult your benefactor, your master, and then sit here, ignoring your own disgrace?"
Had they been anywhere but the academy's ramshackle halls, Ricky might have taken his fury to violent ends. But restrained and watched by hundreds of fellow disciples, he settled for this bitter outburst.
Oliver, standing nearby in stoic silence, shot Ethan a cold, appraising glance. He refused to waste breath on someone so utterly beneath his notice.
Oliver had a calculated ambition; once he graduated from Sacred Wind Academy, he planned to leave—and never look back at anyone who couldn't match his prowess.
Ethan considered them both for a long moment—Ricky's burning hatred and Oliver's cold dismissal—then shrugged internally. "Let them think what they want. Strength is the only answer."
He collected himself, determined to not be a passive target. "Well, since we're all fellow disciples," he said, voice steady and clear, "allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Ethan Hunt. I joined just yesterday. I hope you'll take care of me, as this place is still new to me."
Some in the crowd murmured, surprised by his forthrightness and calm. Ethan was about to excuse himself when a sudden idea struck him.
Turning back once more, he addressed the entire hall with growing confidence: "Oh, and one more thing! I've taken on the role of librarian. The library is open to all of you. Please come by during your free time, and consider enrolling for membership."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle, then continued with the practiced cadence of a seasoned orator, "Membership costs fifty contribution points per month. The first three enrollees will enjoy their first month free. The fourth through tenth receive a seventy-five percent discount, and the eleventh through hundredth a fifty percent discount."
"This is a rare opportunity to support the academy's renewal and enrich your cultivation journey. Don't miss it! If you're not among the first hundred, you risk losing out on valuable benefits. So, spread the word—join the library, and let's revive Sacred Wind together. Cheers!"
The dining hall fell momentarily silent. Was this a joke? A stunt? Some foolish attempt to turn butchered reputation into something redeeming?
Ethan gave a slight smile and left the hall without waiting for a response. His priorities lay elsewhere—quests to complete, attributes to raise, a cultivation path to walk alone if necessary.
As he walked away, the disciples and faculty were left stunned, their trained pride shattered by the sheer audacity of the newcomer.
In the cultivation world, pride and reputation were currency as much as spirit energy. When any disciple's honor was attacked in public, they were expected to retaliate or at least defend themselves vigorously. Yet here was Ethan: insulted, humiliated, and utterly indifferent. More surprisingly, he'd taken Ricky's public assault and spun it into free publicity for his librarian role—a publicity stunt no one had expected.
Ricky's face burned with fury, torn between humiliation and rage. His perfect plan to damage Jake and Ethan's reputations had faltered magnificently. Worse still, his indignation became the unintended marketing tool for the very library he'd scorned.
A sudden grim thought gnawed at Ricky's mind:
'Who's the one truly humiliated here?'
And with that thought, he felt bile rise involuntarily—the ironic, bitter taste of defeat.