The three Nascent Soul Masters surged forward, their auras colliding with enough force to twist the air. Finn stood unmoved, Yang's fiery presence flaring behind him like the sun. The first master unleashed a barrage of spirit blades, tearing trenches through the earth, but Finn stepped through them as if strolling on calm grass. His palm struck once, shattering the man's defenses and folding his cultivation. The second leapt from above, conjuring a flaming halberd, yet Finn caught the weapon mid swing, crushing its energy with a simple twist. His kick sent the master spiraling into the courtyard wall, the stone crumbling around him. The third tried to flee, but Yang's roar trapped him within a vortex of pressure, forcing him back before Finn with trembling legs.
Finn raised a single hand and the battlefield fell silent, power swirling in a tight orbit around his fingers. "You touched what was mine," he said softly, but the world itself still trembled. The three masters collapsed under the weight of his intent, their bodies no longer able to resist. With effortless precision, and without lingering on the brutality, Finn severed their lifelines and drew forth their Nascent Souls, the cores pulsing faintly in his grasp. He stored them away, untouched by remorse. "You will still serve a purpose," he murmured, turning as Yang stepped beside him. "Just not the one you imagined."
Finn regarded the trembling Golden Cores with calm authority. "By the Azure Code, strength rules," he declared. "This estate now belongs to me, and from today, it is a property of Pantheon. The slavers who suppressed your cultivation are dead. Your shackles are gone. Serve with loyalty, and Pantheon will raise you higher. Walk the path of evil, and Pantheon will erase you without hesitation." His gaze swept across them, sharp as a decree. "Choose your own Governor and spend the next ten years building your strength. From this moment on, you will guard and serve this village." With that, Finn turned away, Yang pacing proudly at his side as they headed toward the village academy.
Heaven's Smile Academy had once been a legendary institution, so ancient that its founding predated several forgotten empires. Time and war, however, had stripped it of its glory, leaving only thirty students within its cracked stone walls. Yet those thirty were fiercely loyal and proud, bound together like family. Their dean, Elder Jordan, was a Nascent Soul cultivator who had remained stuck at the early stage for two and a half centuries, but his will had never wavered. On this day, the academy buzzed with excitement; it is their annual tournament, a cherished tradition meant to ignite growth in their young cultivators.
The final match had just ended, and cheers erupted as the tournament champion, Vin Max, was announced. Before the applause settled, Dean Jordan suddenly stood, his attention locked on the heavens. From the clouds, a majestic horse descended, its crimson mane shimmering like heavenly flames. Atop it sat a figure robed in black and gold, a sharp dragon masked silhouette exuding quiet dominance. The arena fell silent as Finn dismounted gracefully. His voice carried effortlessly, "I am Pantheon Master, Shadow Dragon. I have come with an invitation for Heaven's Smile Academy to join us." Gasps rippled through the crowd. An ancient academy, long forgotten, had just been offered a new destiny.
Dean Jordan narrowed his eyes, the weight of leadership pushing him to test the stranger who dared to command an academy. He stepped into the center of the arena, spiritual pressure rising as he cupped his fists. "Pantheon Master, forgive this old man, but Heaven's Smile cannot bend to words alone." Finn didn't move. With a single gesture, a colossal spirit palm, woven with dense, shimmering Immortal Qi, manifested above the arena, pressing down with a force that made the ground cry. Jordan's legs buckled instantly. Shocked and humbled, he fell to one knee. "Students! Teachers! Pay respects!" he shouted. And in a wave, the entire academy knelt before the Shadow Dragon.
Finn let the phantom palm fade, then raised a hand for everyone to rise. His voice carried across the arena with calm authority. "From this day forward, all future generations of Pantheon shall study and train here at Heaven's Smile Academy, and nowhere else. Your halls will shape our pillars, and we will shoulder every financial burden you possess. You will need nothing from the ministries, nor the Imperial Court." Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the crowd. "Stand with the empire, yes," he continued, "but remain unphased by its games." With that, Finn slid gracefully from Yang's back and turned to Jordan. "Dean, walk with me. We have matters to discuss."
When they reached Jordan's office, the door closing softly behind them. Finn stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. "Do you know the meaning behind the final part of my declaration?" he asked. Jordan pondered for a moment before replying, "You intend to balance the empire's power through multiple sources, not just a single throne."
Finn nodded. "Absolute power corrupts. Even the purest heart will rot if left alone long enough. Peace can birth chaos just as chaos can birth peace. If all authority rests in one force, vulnerable to ambition and decay, which of those two states do you think will rule?" His gaze sharpened. "At first, I considered dismantling the Imperial Order entirely. But no, its design has purpose. Sometimes laws must shift quickly, decisively, and only a structure that is both above the people and bound by its rules can achieve that. Pantheon will not replace the empire. Pantheon will keep it honest. If necessary, make them afraid to take the wrong step."
Finn explained that separating education, especially the training of cultivators from the tides of politics was not just ideal, but essential. Only through independence could knowledge remain pure, historical truth remain unbent, and the next generation be taught by facts rather than the whims of reputation or emotion. "Regardless of one's image," he said, "what is true must be told." The path ahead would be difficult. Immortals themselves would challenge such reform, and the forces protecting the old ways would not yield quietly. But Finn called it a worthy cause. If no one dared to reshape the world, then what future would life have? How could anyone claim to walk the righteous path while remaining silent?
Jordan listened, stunned. In all his years, more than a thousand years cultivating, with at least two thousand more ahead, he had never heard such a vision spoken so plainly. The conviction in Finn's voice lit something inside him, a spark he had not felt since his youth. As an educator, the clarity of that purpose struck him like a revelation, and the sincerity behind it subtly stirred his cultivation, as if granting him a glimpse of a higher path.