Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

“Enough, stop wasting words on him.”

The elderly man who looked to be around the same age as old Gayle spoke softly. “Gayle, you might not know this, but after we graduated, the previous headmaster left behind a will through his residual mana, formally severing all ties with Sirius Academy.”

“In other words, the institution you now stand in is no longer Sirius Academy. It’s just a product of your obstinacy. You’ve disgraced the name of Sirius. Naturally, don’t expect a shred of help from us. I advise you to conduct yourself with dignity—stop your extreme actions and at least leave yourself and us a final ounce of decency.”

“Decency?”

Old Gayle froze in place upon hearing those words.

A bitter smile gradually spread across his face.

As he expected—he couldn’t protect anything. Not back then. Not now.

Perhaps this was his punishment.

Having driven the previous headmaster to his death, this was his retribution—to watch the Sirius Academy he had built with his own hands crumble into ruin.

He extinguished the surrounding runes and cut off the transmission to the energy amethyst crystal. Then, Gayle raised a silver flask to his lips.

But after only a few sips, he fell to his knees, retching violently.

He had been drinking for most of his life. Yet this was the first time he realized just how bitter alcohol could be.

The kind of bitterness that clawed at the soul. He couldn’t understand how his former self had endured and accepted such bitterness for so long.

Meanwhile, in front of the Lioncrest Academy gates—

Alan and his companions stood silently, a crowd of curious onlookers gathering behind them.

“Mr. Alan, can you explain why students like you arrived yesterday on a royal-exclusive magic train?”

“Has Sirius Academy officially entered into full cooperation with the royal family?”

“Are you aware of the massive bounty Lioncrest Academy issued for your head, which attracted bounty hunters from foreign nations to the capital?”

Alan didn’t respond to any of these questions.

He simply walked straight through the academy gates.

The others followed quickly behind.

Looking at the empty training grounds of Lioncrest Academy, Francis muttered nervously, “Something’s off. Alan, do you think those bastards are hiding somewhere, ready to ambush us?”

Alan replied indifferently, “Whether it’s an ambush or a direct confrontation, there’s no avoiding this battle. What, are you afraid?”

“M-me? Afraid? No way! I’m just… a little nervous, that’s all.”

Fort chuckled, “Which is just another way of saying you’re scared.”

Blanche immediately cut in, “Cut the chatter. Fort, use your detection skills to sense where the Lioncrest mages are.”

“No need,” Alan said as he raised his hand to stop them from acting recklessly.

He summoned Lumen Sancta, gripped the radiant sword with both hands, and stood before the largest building in Lioncrest Academy.

Then, he roared, “Tier-Silver Magus, student of Sirius Academy, hereby challenges all members of Lioncrest Academy to a life-and-death duel!”

Alan’s voice boomed powerfully, echoing far into the distance.

The crowd behind him erupted. When they heard the words “life-and-death duel,” they cried out like a tidal wave.

It had been years—perhaps even decades—since anyone had seen a true life-and-death duel between mana users.

Perhaps it was human nature, that dark, unchanging curiosity—but one could not deny the allure of watching two formidable individuals fight for their lives.

Moreover, Alan’s heroic stand against the Barton Kingdom’s invading forces in Ironblood City had been embellished and broadcasted across the empire by Emperor Denken himself.

In contrast, Lioncrest Academy’s despicable act of hiring bounty hunters from foreign—and even enemy—nations to assassinate Alan had left the people of the capital thoroughly disgusted.

As a result, public opinion had shifted dramatically.

Lioncrest was now seen as a den of disgrace and treachery, while Sirius Academy was hailed as a beacon of national pride.

In recent weeks, many young people—those with dreams of saving their nation—had expressed a desire to enroll in Sirius.

Unfortunately, old Gayle, for reasons no one could understand, had steadfastly refused to admit even a single new student.

“Strange,” someone in the crowd murmured.

“According to the mage’s code, once a life-and-death duel is proposed, the challenged side must respond immediately, no matter what they’re doing.”

“But there’s no response from Lioncrest Academy… why hasn’t anyone come out to fight?”

“Could it be… Lioncrest has turned into a nest of cowards?”

“Hah! Seems like it. Alan slaughtered over a hundred students last time he came to Lioncrest. I bet everyone there sees him as the Grim Reaper now. Forget fighting—just standing in front of him would probably make them piss themselves.”

The crowd grew rowdier, their voices thick with mockery and contempt.

Insults flew freely, targeting Lioncrest’s reputation, honor, dignity, and pride.

But none of those words seemed applicable anymore—not in the eyes of the Imperial Capital’s citizens.

Lioncrest Academy was no longer a respected institution. It wasn’t even seen as an educational facility. It was a disgrace.

Some time passed.

Just as Alan was beginning to wonder if the academy was truly empty, the grand doors of the largest building before him slowly creaked open.

Alan’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the man stepping out.

It was Krom.

Krom’s face was filled with irritation as he addressed Alan, “You little brat, you don’t have much time left to live. Stop barking in front of our gates. Shouldn’t you be spending your final days with your family?”

He had deliberately used those words, knowing how important Isabella was to Alan—hoping to provoke him by twisting that knife.

But what Krom didn’t know was that Alan had already let go of that emotional vulnerability the day he parted ways with Isabella.

Right now, he had no attachments, no distractions. He was arguably in his most dangerous, most unrestrained state.

Alan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Then, lifting Lumen Sancta, he pointed the tip of the sword directly at Krom’s forehead and said coldly, “Enough nonsense. If you want to fight, then come at me. If not, get on your knees and bark like a dog. Or…”

He swept his gaze over the grand building behind Krom and added with biting sarcasm:

“Is your academy so enormous that not even one student with a backbone can be found?”

“You—Alan!”

Krom’s face twisted in anger, ready to retort.

But Alan cut him off with a casual wave of his hand. “Forget it. Lioncrest Academy only produces trash anyway. Krom, you’ve always hated me, haven’t you? Well then, I’m giving you a chance.”

As he spoke, Alan compressed his mana into a sphere and flung it straight at Krom’s face.

The orb wasn’t meant to deal damage—it lacked any significant offensive power.

But the insult it carried couldn’t have been more direct.

It was an unmistakable gesture: the formal initiation of a mage’s duel.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

Alan had just issued a challenge—to Krom!

No matter how much one disliked Krom, he was still the Vice Headmaster of Lioncrest Academy.

And Alan? He was only a young man in his early twenties.

The difference between them in experience and seniority spanned at least two full generations.

For Alan to do this…

It was clear as day:

He didn’t even see Krom as human.

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