First Legendary Dragon: Starting With The Limitless System novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Vice Dean’s Speech

Beside her, a dark-haired noble boy with House Thorne’s crest clicked his tongue irritably. "Calm down, Claire. You’re drooling."

"Shut up, Lukas, you’re just jealous!" Claire whispered fiercely with flushed cheeks. But she turned her head and looked at Lukas with unkind eyes, "And why are you even here? I already told you I don’t like you."

Lukas gritted his teeth and stood up before leaving without saying another word.

Further ahead, a boy named Leon whispered excitedly to his companions, "He knows Princess Arya personally? Maybe those rumors about him aren’t exaggerated."

"Quiet, Leon!" hissed a girl named Maya. "He’ll hear you!"

"Well, I don’t think he would mind us. After all," another young man named Dane pointed around them, "Everyone is already discussing him."

The trio looked at each other and decided to mind their own business.

Orion, however, paid none of the students there any mind, calmly walking alongside Arya until they reached the plush front-row seats, but they were the same as all the other seats—clearly showing how the academy treats all its students equally.

As they took their places, Orion settled into his seat. Arya sat in the middle with Orion at her right and Emilia on her left. Orion continued to feel eyes drill into his back.

’Ha, I really did choose the right hairstyle,’ he thought smugly, casually crossing his legs and waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Minutes later, a heavy silence suddenly descended upon the auditorium as two imposing figures stepped onto the floating platform from opposite ends.

An instructor named Viren stepped forward first, calling out clearly, "Everyone, rise to welcome Vice Dean Hargan and Vice Dean Elanora."

All students rose swiftly, respectfully silent. Orion joined, curiously observing the two vice deans. ’Interesting... such opposing auras. One like a rose, the other like an old sword...’

One was an elegant woman whose very presence captured every eye. She possessed a refined beauty, dressed in flowing emerald robes that hugged her mature, enticing figure.

Her silky raven-black hair drooped down over her shoulders as she surveyed the students with a charming, playful smile—a smile so deadly it made the male students in the auditorium straighten their backs. This was Vice Dean Elanora. Expert in the spirit arts and also the highest-ranking teacher in the Spirit Art Department of the academy.

She’s feared and admired across the surrounding kingdoms, as rumors said she had once defeated a group of people who tried to ambush her. And the thing that made people fear her was that she massacred the entire group—a group made up of beings above Tier 9.

Beside her stood an elderly man in a deep azure robe embroidered with cloud and thunder motifs. His beard reached his chest, and his eyes were sharp, with an aura of unquestionable authority.

This was Vice Dean Hargan—a legend among elementalists and known across the surrounding kingdoms for molding some of the kingdom’s finest mages.

Hargan stepped forward first. His voice was calm but carried effortlessly to every corner of the room.

"Silence."

The hall obeyed in an instant.

His gaze swept the room slowly. "You stand within the heart of Thunderpeak Royal Academy. This is not a sanctuary. This is not your home. This is not a place where you come to simply exist."

From the audience, a boy named Felix nervously whispered to his friend Tessa, "He’s terrifying... are we going to survive here?"

"Quiet," Tessa muttered anxiously. "I heard he expelled three nobles last year just for tardiness."

"This academy," Hargan continued, "was forged in the chaos of war. It was built to raise those capable of leading kingdoms, defending our home, and confronting those accursed demons."

He raised his hand and mumbled a name, and with a spark, a storm cloud condensed above the stage.

"Those of you admitted here... are the finest your families, clans, and provinces could offer. But talent alone means nothing. I have seen prodigies burn out within a year."

The cloud crackled, then dispersed.

"I do not care for your birthright. Nor your wealth. Nor the crest on your robes. The only currency that matters here... is progress." He looked directly at a few nobles, making them flinch.

Behind them, a noble student named Marcus mumbled, visibly shaken, "Great. I can feel my future slipping away already." _{fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓}