It had been less than three hours since the Federal Unified Exam had officially concluded.

  Normally, the geniuses who participated would stay for a day or two to soak in the majesty of the sector's capital. But today was a catastrophe. Planet Solaris had been torn apart. Fortunately, the transport vessels were stationed nearby, and most of the participants—aside from those swallowed by the initial planetary rifts—had already been evacuated.

  But Silas was frantic. Every attempt to ping Lance or Selina met with silence. He had no way of knowing that the moment they emerged, they had been pulled into the Solaris Academy secret realm, an area completely shielded from outside communications. Then came the confrontation with The Solaris Emperor and a life-and-death battle. They hadn't exactly had a moment to check their notifications.

  The only thing keeping Silas from a total breakdown was the life-sign monitor on their Wrist Communicators. Both were still active.

  "Oh? If it isn't Silas Stuart. What’s the matter? Your little geniuses haven't shown up yet?"

  A message request pinged from a neighboring Tier 4 vessel. A moment later, the holographic projection of an old man flickered into existence in Silas’s control room. Silas snorted the moment he saw him.

  "Morlund? You're still kicking, you old fossil?"

  "If you're still alive, why would I be dead? Hahaha!" Morlund shot back with a grin. He was an Inspector from a system neighboring Silvermoon. Given their proximity, their systems were in constant competition, and they never missed a chance to trade insults. "Aren't you going to ask me why I’m here?"

  "I couldn't care less," Silas grunted, looking away.

  "Hahaha! I knew you'd say that, but I’m going to tell you anyway. My planet produced an S-Rank genius this year. He ranked 1,700th in the exam. And get this: he’s only nineteen. That means by next year, he has an eighty percent chance of entering Solaris Academy!"

  Morlund’s laugh was a roar of triumph. He gestured, and the projection of an arrogant-looking teenager appeared beside him. The boy looked at Silas with utter indifference. Ranking 1,700th meant his cultivation was at least [Gold Tier, Rank 8]. With that kind of talent, it was only a matter of years before he surpassed the likes of Silas and Morlund to become a Grandmaster. If he made it into Solaris Academy, he had a real shot at becoming a Great Grandmaster one day. Why would a future titan show respect to a mere Inspector?

  Silas’s expression soured. The official list of Solaris Academy students wouldn't be released until tomorrow, and since his representatives were missing, he had no idea how they had performed. In his mind, a rank of 1,700 was incredible—a talent likely to hit the top 100 within a year. It was a result that eclipsed most S-Rank elites.

  "Dammit, I’m getting upstaged by this old bastard again," Silas muttered. He had thought he’d hit the jackpot with Lance, but it seemed Morlund had stumbled into his own stroke of luck.

  "So, where are your representatives? Did they die?" Morlund began to sneer. "It was a dangerous exam, after all. It’s perfectly normal for the weak to perish."

  That was the last straw. Silas snapped.

  "Bullsh*t! You think you're the only one with an S-Rank genius? I brought an S-Rank and an A+ Rank this year, and they are both very much alive!"

  Morlund blinked, caught off guard. An S-Rank? "Don't bluff me, Silas. If you really have an S-Rank, tell me the name. I'll check the registry right now to see if he's actually from Silvermoon."

  The teenage genius beside Morlund also looked over, his curiosity piqued.

  "Fine! My Silvermoon genius is named Lance. Look him up!" Silas smirked, seeing Morlund’s composure slip. "And my A+ genius is Selina. Go ahead, check the database. If I’m lying, you can mock me however you want!"

  Silas was enjoying the look on Morlund's face. Even if Morlund had one S-Ranker, Silas had an S-Rank and an A+ to boot. He’d won on paper.

  "What? Lance? Selina!?"

  The moment the teenager heard those names, his face drained of all color. He let out a strangled gasp. To the survivors of Planet Solaris, those names were legendary—bordering on taboo. He had even begun to suspect that the SS-Rank genius the Emperor and the Monarch were fighting over was Lance.

  "Eh? You know them? Are they really S-Rank?" Morlund was confused by his protégé's reaction. Even an S-Rank shouldn't warrant this level of shock. He quickly opened the public registry.

  Sure enough, Lance’s name was listed under verified S-Rank talents. Since the official update for his SS-Rank status hadn't been released to the public yet, the world was still speculating.

  "Hmph. So it's true. An S-Rank... and he’s only fifteen?" Morlund muttered, still not noticing that his own genius's legs had begun to shake. "You old fool, you really did have a stroke of luck. But letting a fifteen-year-old enter an exam this dangerous? If you were on my planet, I’d have you hauled before the Martial Court for negligence!"

  "Fifteen... he's only fifteen... Lance is only fifteen!?" the teenage genius stammered, his voice trembling with terror.

  They all knew Lance had the power to kill a Grandmaster-level Blaze Demon Wolf, but they had assumed he was twenty. At twenty, that would make him an S+ Rank talent. But fifteen? If the file said fifteen, then the rumored SS-Rank genius was definitely Lance.

  The sight of the boy being scared out of his wits left both Silas and Morlund stunned.

  "Son, have you seen Lance and Selina? We haven't been able to reach them—is something wrong?" Silas asked, his voice thick with anxiety and excitement.

  "Can't reach them? They're probably dead!" Morlund couldn't help but interject, despite his own confusion at the boy's reaction.

  "Sir... Lance and Selina are fine. They're actually..."

  The teenager’s arrogance had vanished. He was speaking to Silas with the utmost humility.

  Rumble!

  Before he could finish, a terrifying shockwave rippled through the void. A massive starship, over a million meters in length, slowly emerged from the depths of space. It came to a halt directly above Silas’s vessel.

  Vroom!

  To the horror of everyone watching, Silas’s starship was caught in a tractor beam and pulled directly into the belly of the titan vessel.

  "What the hell is happening!?" Morlund gasped as his holographic connection was severed. "That... that looks like a Tier 6 peak starship. Only a High Guardian has the authority to command a vessel like that!"

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  Human technology had advanced rapidly over the last hundred thousand years, but it had plateaued at the peak of Tier 6. The only Tier 7 ship in existence belonged to the Martial Paragon, recovered from an ancient ruin. A Tier 6 peak ship was the pinnacle of modern human tech, reserved for the Guardians of the race.

  And now, one had appeared just to retrieve that old fossil Silas Stuart.

  "Chief Inspector," the S-Rank genius beside Morlund finally spoke up, his voice hollow. "Lance and Selina... they've both been admitted to Solaris Academy. One is S+ Rank, and Lance... he's an SS-Rank genius. It looks like the High Guardians are personally escorting them."

  Morlund’s eyes bulged. He staggered back, his legs giving out as he collapsed onto the floor.

  "S... SS-Rank!? How is that possible!?"

  He could only watch as the massive ship vanished into the starfield.

  "This... how is this possible!?"

  Inside the Tier 6 starship, Silas Stuart was reeling. He had come here with an S-Rank and an A+ Rank representative. Now, he was being told they had ascended to S+ and SS-Rank status.

  "A lot has happened recently," Lance said with a sheepish smile, looking at the stunned Inspector. "I didn't have a chance to update you. I’m sorry for the worry."

  Lance knew his own strength, but even he hadn't expected the situation to escalate like this. He had originally just wanted to grab some resources from Solaris Academy, but now he was being fast-tracked to the Vanguard Elite Institute. As a matter of classified protocol, he couldn't give Silas the full details; he only mentioned he would be attending the First Academy of Terra.

  The First Academy of Terra was a legend—the ultimate destination for the greatest geniuses under twenty from across three thousand intermediate star systems. Many of its students were already Grandmasters.

  Most of them had achieved "Three Rotations" of their mana. A Fourth Rotation was a feat so rare it was considered the limit of human potential, achieved only by the Martial Paragon himself. According to the footage Lance had uploaded, he was currently at three rotations—because that was his level when he recorded it. He was actually at ten now, but no one knew that.

  This was the primary reason he was designated SS-Rank. If he had only one rotation, even killing a Grandmaster at his age would only have earned him an S+ rating.

  The High Guardians felt a pang of regret for Lance. Had he known the importance of mana rotations earlier, they believed he might have become the second human in history to reach the fourth. After all, he was only fifteen and already a Grandmaster.

  However, during their conversation, Guardian Aether was shocked to discover that Lance's true strength lay not in martial arts, but in his soul. The shock quickly turned into exhilaration. He repeatedly urged Lance to push his soul to its absolute limit before officially breaking through to the Grandmaster soul rank. If Lance could achieve a Level 4 soul mutation, he truly might stand on the same level as the Martial Paragon one day.

  "Hahaha! I'm just a small-timer, why tell me all these details?" Silas laughed, his eyes bright with joy. "As long as you become a powerhouse, it's a good thing for all of us!"

  As far as Silas was concerned, the prosperity of the human race was all that mattered.

  "You have done well," a warm voice resonated through the hall.

  An elderly man with a sage-like aura, stroking his beard, descended toward them with a smile. Silas began to tremble with excitement. The man before him was a figure straight out of the history books—an idol to trillions of humans across the cosmos. To have such a legend appear in person and praise him... Silas felt old tears welling in his eyes.

  "Silas Stuart of the human race... greets Guardian Aether!!" He dropped to his knees in a deep, respectful kowtow.

  With a lifespan of tens of thousands of years, Guardian Aether was effectively an ancestor to the entire race. He earned that gesture. He didn't stop Silas, knowing that to do so would leave the man with a lifetime of regret.

  "Rise," Aether said, a gentle wave of his hand lifting Silas from the floor. "Without the dedicated service of people like you, no matter how many geniuses our race produced, they would have been lost to the schemes of the aliens long ago."

  Aether had reviewed Lance’s files. He knew about the Skrull ambush on the way here, and he knew Silas had stayed behind to hold the line alone for the sake of the children. In Silas, he saw the reflection of the Guardians themselves. In many ways, Silas had done his job better than any of them could have asked.

  "Lord Guardian, you overpraise me," Silas said, overwhelmed. "It was merely my duty."

  "The Martial Paragon established the Martial Alliance on the principle of clear rewards and punishments," Aether said with a smile. "Once you return, your rewards will be issued in full. You have earned them."

  "Furthermore, regarding the exposure of your itinerary... those behind the scenes will face a punishment that is far from light! This is a Tier 4 Peak-Grade Punisher unit, and here is the list. Once you return to Planet Silvermoon, I leave these in your hands."

  Guardian Aether spoke with a calm authority as he tapped the ring on his finger.

  Vroom!

  Following a ripple in space, a mechanical warrior forged from sleek, black metal manifested before them. Simultaneously, a data packet was transmitted directly to Silas Stuart’s communicator.

  "A Subspace Ring!?" Lance’s eyes widened. He was finally seeing the real thing. The Solaris Emperor had one too, but it had been vaporized by Sovereign Glacia—a complete waste of a divine treasure. Lance couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Without one, his pockets were perpetually stuffed to the brim. He was literally carrying a cosmic powerhouse in his tactical gi. It was as primitive as it was pathetic.

  "Do you like Subspace Rings?" Guardian Aether asked, catching the boy’s lingering gaze.

  "Uh... I’ve heard they’re incredibly convenient. I was just a bit curious," Lance admitted with an embarrassed chuckle.

  "Then I’ll give you one." Aether laughed. He wiped his hand across the air, and a second Subspace Ring appeared. "It isn't massive—only a hundred cubic meters—but it’s enough to hold your essentials. Just brand it with your spiritual signature."

  Aether handed it over with a smile. Although the interior was only a hundred cubic meters, the ring itself was a Tier 6 Mid-Grade artifact. Its value was so astronomical that it wasn't even measured in Credits anymore; it was priced in Galactic Coins.

  One Galactic Coin was worth ten quadrillion Credits. This single ring was valued at a million Galactic Coins—the equivalent of 10 quintillion Credits. For that price, you could buy Planet Silvermoon several thousand times over.

  "I won't be polite then. Thank you, Lord Guardian!" Lance, never one to let a good opportunity pass, grinned and snatched it up.

  "Hmph. A hundred cubic meters? How pathetic," Sovereign Glacia’s voice scoffed in his mind. "If you want toys like that, I could forge you a hundred thousand of them right now—if only you’d let me out!"

  "If you had that kind of ability, why doesn't Selina have one?" Lance shot back, instantly deflating her boast.

  "That's because I didn't have the materials!" she barked. "Give me the materials, and I’ll make you a hundred million!"

  "If I had the materials, why would I need you? I could forge them myself," Lance replied dismissively.

  With his 100,000x Affinity and the system’s Reconstruction capability, he only needed to push his smithing profession to the 5th Rank. A 5th-Rank [Legendary Grade] smithing level was more than enough to forge a Tier 6 ring. The only bottleneck was the raw materials: the cores of collapsed stars. While the raw material was cheaper than the finished product, it still cost tens of thousands of Galactic Coins per unit. Her claim of making a hundred million was pure fantasy.

  Meanwhile, Silas Stuart’s face had turned deathly pale as he scanned the traitor list.

  The name at the very top was the Speaker—the strongest man on Planet Silvermoon.

  It all made sense now. Silas had only transmitted his itinerary to the Speaker. Only he could have leaked the information within hours and coordinated an ambush. Silas felt a dagger in his heart. The Speaker wasn't just a leader; he was Silas’s disciple.

  Silas had taken him in when he was just a Gold Tier warrior. The man was only fifty years younger than Silas himself. Originally, the Speaker’s seat belonged to Silas, but he had stepped down to give the position to his favorite pupil. The disciple had lived up to expectations, surpassing Silas within three centuries to become the number one powerhouse of Planet Silvermoon, reaching [Silver Tier, Rank 4].

  And now, he had betrayed the human race. Silas’s grief was immeasurable, but there was no hesitation in his eyes. He had given up his seat for the sake of the next generation; now that his disciple was trying to snuff out that very future, he would do what was necessary. He would clean house.

  Inside the ship's cabin, Selina remained unconscious.

  The previous surge of power from Sovereign Glacia had caused severe trauma to her soul. Glacia had warned her repeatedly, but Selina’s hatred for the Emperor ran so deep that she was willing to sacrifice her very essence for revenge.

  Glacia had originally planned to kill the Emperor and then take Selina into hiding to heal her soul. But Lance had changed everything. If the trauma wasn't treated immediately, the damage to her soul would become irreversible.

  "This soul injury is serious," Lance muttered as he stood by Selina’s side, examining her. "Relying on external power is a dangerous game."

  To Lance, this kind of injury was trivial—he could fix it in seconds. But to any other practitioner, it was a death sentence for their future potential. In his eyes, Selina’s soul was riddled with several tiny [Exploits]. Repairing them normally would be a monumental task.

  "Kid... please, I’m begging you," Glacia’s voice sounded in his mind, desperate and fragile. "Let me out just for a moment. Let me heal her, and then you can seal me back up. Please..."

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