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Kaist Maika tapped his fingers on his office desk as he read through the form in his hand. Even though he was over 100 years old, his appearance evoked a youthfulness of a middle-aged man. If not for his eyes that betrayed the inevitable vicissitudes of life, one could easily mistake him for a 30-year-old.

He wore a clean suit bearing the academy's colours, with some extra regalia indicating his position as the headmaster.

Just yesterday he received a notice from the academy's administrative department that a teacher filed a form requesting a transfer of a teaching apprentice.

Usually, such requests involved the acknowledgement of the teacher under whom the apprentice was currently working and the teacher under who the apprentice was set to be transferred.

The issue here was that the form was submitted with only the signature of the latter, and just the name and information of the former. Such one-sided and blatant requests were usually shredded at the end of the week, but this one was special.

The guys at the admin department were stumped because the teacher who submitted the form was Al Jeeves.

Kaist sympathised with them. In the past few years, he had also started to regret seeking out the man and convincing him, through an extremely laborious process, to join his Radiant Academy.

Although Radiant City was one of the most well-known cities in the Solar Empire, Radiant Academy was only a second-tier academy within the empire. This was primarily because the highest level of teaching certification held by any teacher in the school was 3-stars.

So it was a little counterproductive to seek out a teacher who only held a 1-star license to boost the school's prestige. But the fact was that although Al was only a 1-star teacher, his capacity was far beyond that.

Even Kaist, who held a 3-star license, had to display his deference in front of Al.

Unfortunately, even though Kaist convinced Al to join the Radiant Academy 50 years ago, it appeared as if it was only in name. Al refused to involve himself in matters such as apprenticeship and tutoring. The man basically shut himself in the academy library and refused to entertain anyone.

But this didn't stop Kaist from shamelessly plugging in Al's name when wealthy families surveyed academies for their children.

"Our academy is also home to the renowned Teacher Jeeves," he'd tell them.

When they'd ask if it was possible to put in a good word for their children with Al, to which he'd say, "Well... I can't promise anything. He's very strict when it comes to choosing personal students."

The parents usually mistook that for a hint that some monetary lubrication would be needed to grease the metaphorical wheels.

They'd then offer some "donations", which of course Kaist would reject once. But after a few volleys of half-hearted pushing and pulling, he'd "reluctantly" accept the amount while assuring that he would, "try my best to put your children's names at the top of the list when Al considers taking in some personal students."

He didn't lie. He would always mail in a list of names every year to Al. What Al chose to do with that list? Not his problem.

So it was a pleasant surprise when the apprentice transfer form with Al's name printed on it popped up in the admin department. Luckily, the guys working there had the presence of mind to contact him instead of disposing of it.

As Kaist read through the form, he took note of the apprentice listed for the transferal.

"Guy Larks," he muttered as he dug through his memories for any information related to that name.

As a mage in the Core Condensation realm, his mental faculties were far beyond the limits of mortal men. So it came as a surprise when Kaist failed to recollect anything about this man.

As he scratched his forehead to dig out any information, a series of equally spaced out knocks interrupted him.

Kaist sat up straight in his seat and waved his hand. The air pressure in the room shifted slightly causing the door to open slowly.

"You called for me?" Al asked as he walked into the room calmly.

Kaist wore an amicable smile and gestured Al to take a seat. "It's getting harder to get you out of the library, old friend."

"Nothing interesting happens nowadays that necessitates it. Besides, it's more fun to live amongst books," he replied mirthfully.

The two then descended into friendly banter as they exchanged new tidbits.

"... so I told him, 'I don't think those are vines...' But he didn't listen. He walked up and poked the tips hanging off the ceiling. And guess what?"

Al leaned in in anticipation.

"The 'vines' instantly fired through his nostrils and slithered down his backside. Before he could flush his system, they hardened and broke off," Kaist chuckled.

Al subconsciously clenched his anal sphincters.

Kaist quickly waved his hand and assuaged Al, "Relax, it didn't hurt. We did some research and found out that these, let's call them Mimic Vines, constantly seek the quickest way into the soil. Unlike regular plants, they germinate in extremely dry and nutrient-less locations. As they grow, they creep towards nutrient sources in order to sustain themselves. Considering this peculiarity, they're extremely rare and only grow in highly specific environments."

Al nodded in understanding and quickly fired off a few questions related to these new plants.

As Kaist answered them methodically he chuckled inwardly, 'Still as inquisitive as always.'

Once the discussion reached a standstill, Kaist decided to carefully probe Al regarding the transferal form.

"So enough about me. What I really called you here for was to ask you about this," he said while sliding the form across his desk.

Al glanced at the form blankly and answered, "It's an apprentice transferal form."

Kaist snorted and commented sarcastically, "Really? I did not know that."

He then shook his head and rephrased his question, "It's been 50 years since you joined this academy, and not once have you actively involved yourself in its matters. I consider you a friend and an invaluable source of credible advertising, so I didn't bother you about it. But now I see that you're taking on an apprentice, and that too some random bloke called Guy Larks."

"And?" Al urged impatiently.

Kaist choked on his words, "And? What gives? Why now? And why him? If you want I can suggest a few promising teachers or apprentices with good aptitudes."

Al quickly shook his head and interrupted Kaist, "I'm not doing this because I want to train a teacher. Why would I take on an apprentice willingly? I already told you that I'm not planning to ever teach another person in my lifetime."

As he finished that sentence, the expression on Al's face dropped.

Kaist furrowed his brows in sympathy, "I heard that Ziva has started his own sect deep within the Blackstar Kingdom."

Al nodded in affirmation, "I know..."

The person of interest, Ziva Lune, was Al's first and last student. The boy displayed a high affinity for magic and managed to achieve his 1-star teaching license at the age of 18.

Kaist remembered the immense pride with which Al used to tote his student's accomplishments.

But as the saying went, "tall trees fall the hardest". Who knew whether it was because he advanced in realms too quickly, or if he grew too arrogant, but the boy started to display unfettered sociopathic tendencies, stopping at nothing to advance his strength.

By perverting techniques Al himself created, the boy developed his own techniques to unleash a potent plague that wiped out the population of an entire city in less than a week. The worst part was that the plague lingered and could sustain itself indefinitely. It also wrought a drought so vile that it turned the land into an expanse incapable of supporting any form of life.

To date, none could formulate a countermeasure to the disease. Essentially turning a strategic portion of the Solar Empire into an uninhabitable no man's land.

It was then that Al slowly retreated into a shell and obsessively seeked new knowledge. For others, this looked like a consequence of Al's cultivation method, but that was only a half-truth. Al's cultivation method did require him to accumulate new or unheard-of knowledge, but it wasn't to a level that he had to seclude himself.

Kaist knew that Al, rightfully, held himself responsible for the calamity his student wrought into this world. He knew that Al was constantly searching for a way to counter the plague.

"So then why are you taking on an apprentice now?" Kaist voiced his concern.

Al's seriousness dissipated as he chuckled, "I'm doing it because the boy needs resources for his student."

Kaist stared at Al with a stumped expression, "That's it? He asked you to take him on because he lacked resources?"

Al nodded, "His previous supervisor hoarded everything and refused to give it to his student. Saying that there would be no point and that the student was a waste anyway. But the boy was unconvinced, so I decided that I could register for him. It's a win-win situation if you ask me. He gets his resources, you can finally advertise that I took someone under me. I know that there have been complaints that I'm just here in name."

Kaist's forehead crumpled, "What's the real reason?" he asked suspiciously.

Al sighed, "I might have finally found a way to tackle the plague. And I think this boy has the solution."

Kaist's eyes widened. He quickly shuffled in his seat as he sat up straight. "What?"

But Al quickly gestured to Kaist to calm down, "Relax! I don't need you to do anything to him, or for him. This is my responsibility. I just need you to approve this request," Al said while pointing at the form.

Without hesitation, Kaist took another look at the transfer request.

"Blevin Hinds? Wasn't he the teacher who crapped himself in a spar against his apprentice?" Kaist said while clicking his tongue.

Shaking his head he stamped his seal of approval on the form. "If what you said is true then it would definitely be a waste to keep that boy under Hinds."

Blevins, who was currently laying in the infirmary treating his physical injuries and his shattered ego sneezed ominously.

'Is someone talking shit about me?' he surmised as he massaged his buttocks. Apparently, even after entering Foundation Establishment, the anus remained the most vulnerable part of the body.

The forceful evacuation of his bowel had ended up injuring a lot of the nerve endings located in that region. Resulting in him losing all control of the muscles in and around his anus.

He gritted his teeth as he swore to the heavens, in a whisper, "I'll definitely have my revenge, Jo Way! Just you wait... just you wait..."