CHAPTER 152: CHAPTER 152 FRESHER VILLAGE, EARTH

The ten days of the first phase of the tournament had finally come to an end.

Below the towering stadium-like podium, three hundred teachers gathered around the massive teleportation altar.

They sat cross-legged in perfect formation, hands weaving through intricate seals while chanting in unison.

A vast surge of mana drained from their bodies, pouring into the engraved concrete floor covered in elaborate runes and mantras.

Moments later, the entire altar began to glow.

The lines on the ground flared bright gold, and ten colossal gates rose from the floor like ancient monuments awakening from slumber.

A countdown appeared on the massive holographic screen hovering overhead.

Excitement rippled through the crowd as names and ranks from the first phase scrolled across the screen.

Some faces gleamed with satisfaction, but others darkened with envy or disappointment—especially among those whose favored students had failed to rank high enough.

When the timer struck zero, the ten gates pulsed with light.

Their centers liquefied, turning into shimmering, mirror-like surfaces.

A heartbeat later, the teleportation gates activated—spitting out participants one after another in flashes of light and ripples of energy.

For over fifteen minutes, the process continued, each group landing roughly and groaning as they regained their senses. Then came the senior students and the teachers who had accompanied them to Mars.

Once the gates finally fell silent, the supervising teachers began a roll call—checking off each name.

Halfway through the list, one of the teachers frowned. "Wait... we’re missing one."

The others turned to him, and a few quickly cross-checked their own lists.

Indeed—one participant was missing.

A burly man with gray streaks in his beard stepped forward. "I know who’s missing," said Ronaldo, his tone oddly casual.

Every teacher’s gaze snapped toward him. The junior instructors who had returned alongside him from Mars glared openly.

They still hadn’t forgotten the scam he’d orchestrated with Zane and his team—a betrayal that had caused uproar back in the village.

But Ronaldo, as shameless as ever, ignored their hostility. He scanned the crowd of returning participants until his eyes landed on a familiar trio—the Twins, Asphalt, and Henry.

Henry looked particularly distraught, his eyes darting across the platform as if still searching for someone.

Ronaldo strode up to them, followed by several curious teachers.

"Where is Zane Carter?" he demanded.

Har shook his head. "We don’t know. After entering the city gate, everyone got separated."

Dar, the chubby twin, added with a worried frown, "Yeah, we’ve been looking for him too. Is something wrong?"

Ronaldo exhaled heavily and turned toward Asphalt, then Henry, who looked up with a blank, anxious stare.

Finally, he muttered, "Alright. I get it. He didn’t return. I suspect something went wrong with his green card—the teleportation module. I’ll report this to the higher-ups immediately."

He didn’t wait for a reply. Spinning on his heel, Ronaldo sprinted toward the podium, brushing past rows of teachers.

He stopped near the top, where Director Aaron sat calmly playing chess against Pudge, the white-bearded elder of the Academy.

"Sir Director!" Ronaldo bowed deeply. "One of the students—Zane Carter—hasn’t returned. I believe his green card may have malfunctioned!"

Director Aaron paused mid-move, the black knight still hovering above the board. He looked up, eyes calm but sharp.

"I’m aware," he said evenly. "I already dispatched Gemini to investigate. There’s no malfunction in the card."

A quiet stir went through the teachers below.

Aaron leaned back, folding his arms. "According to her report, the boy is still alive. That means something else is at play."

Ronaldo blinked. "Alive? Then—"

"I’ll handle it," Aaron interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "I’ll send a recovery team to verify the situation in person."

He set down the chess piece and added, almost as an afterthought,

"For now, everyone is dismissed."

The group of teachers quickly dispersed.

Director Aaron leaned back, picked up the knight piece, and moved it with a sly grin.

"Checkmate! That makes it fifteen-all. We’re tied now."

Pudge lifted his beer can and downed it in one gulp.

"Alright, time for your speech," Aaron said. "You can also announce the end of the first phase of the tournament. Go on."

Pudge stood up just as a swarm of drones zipped toward the podium, broadcasting his image across the large virtual screen hanging in the air.

He smiled confidently. "Hello, everyone. With today’s event, I officially announce the end of the First Phase of the Ranking Tournament."

He paused for effect before continuing, "Since I’m new here, let me introduce myself before revealing details about the next phase.

I’m Pudge, the newly appointed Dean of the Academy. After a bit of convincing, I’ve also bought the Draconic House. As its new major shareholder, I’ll personally sponsor all its needs. The entire infrastructure will be renewed — every advanced program and facility upgraded to top-tier quality."

He chuckled. "And yes, I’m bold enough to say it — because I’m super rich."

A ripple of laughter and murmurs spread through the crowd.

"Now then," Pudge concluded, "the final phase of the tournament will be held here in Fresher Village after ten days. Until then, you’re all dismissed."

The crowd erupted in chatter — some excited about the revival of the Draconic House, others clearly displeased.

Among those frowning were the elders and noble representatives who sat stiffly in their high seats, exchanging wary looks.

Once the crowd had left, only teachers, deans, and high-ranking academy officials remained.

The small cluster of noble elders finally stood, and Elder Rutherford stepped forward.

"I demand to speak with the Director of the Academy," he announced loudly.

Aaron folded his arms. "I’m listening."

Elder Rutherford’s voice hardened. "Sir Aaron, with all due respect, we — the members of the Nobility Council — are firmly against sponsoring the Draconic House. We all remember the traitor who came from that place. The betrayal still scars our history. Please, reconsider your decision."

Aaron slowly rose from his seat, his gaze sharpening.

"What? You’re still talking about that day?" he said, his tone edged with irritation. "Yes, Zorro Carter was a villain — a traitor to humanity. No one denies that. But it’s been twenty years."

He took a step forward, voice firm.

"It’s time to lift the curse on that house. The decision stands. The funding comes from Dean Pudge’s pocket, not yours. And let me be clear—what happened with Zorro Carter has nothing to do with the Draconic House itself."

He waved a dismissive hand.

"The house is part of my academy. So stop wasting your breath and leave."