Silence.
No one spoke.
No one even shifted in their seat.
Caelion's final words lingered in the air.
"The enemy... flowing through your own veins."
His goldish-blue eyes slowly swept across every prodigy.
Patient.
Calm.
As though waiting for someone to challenge him.
No one did.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Good."
"You've learned something already."
He walked slowly before us.
Hands clasped behind his back.
Each step measured.
Each movement deliberate.
"The ignorant..."
"...believe the enemy is always standing in front of them."
He stopped.
"They're wrong."
He tapped his own chest.
"The first enemy..."
"...is always yourself."
Silence deepened.
"The second..."
"...is the beast sleeping inside your blood."
Several brows furrowed.
A young man from the Azure Wolf Clan finally raised his hand.
"Instructor."
Caelion nodded.
"Speak."
The young man hesitated before asking,
"If our bloodline is inherited from our ancestors..."
"...why call it an enemy?"
A faint chuckle escaped Caelion.
"A good question."
He turned toward the class.
"Tell me."
"What is a beast?"
Several voices answered.
"A powerful creature."
"A magical lifeform."
"A monster."
"A predator."
Caelion slowly shook his head.
"No."
"They are all correct."
"And all incomplete."
He continued walking.
"A beast..."
"...is instinct given flesh."
"It does not debate."
"It does not hesitate."
"It acts."
"When hungry..."
"...it hunts."
"When threatened..."
"...it kills."
"When challenged..."
"...it dominates."
His voice remained calm.
"But humans..."
"...are different."
"We possess reason."
"We choose."
"We restrain ourselves."
He stopped once more.
"Now imagine..."
"...combining both."
The chamber grew quiet.
"Reason."
"And instinct."
"The intelligence of man..."
"...with the savagery of a beast."
His goldish-blue eyes seemed to gleam.
"That..."
"...is what every beast cultivator seeks."
He allowed the words to settle.
"But very few achieve it."
A girl seated near the front frowned.
"Why?"
Caelion looked at her.
"Because they mistake power..."
"...for mastery."
He raised a single finger.
"Listen carefully."
"Your bloodline..."
"...does not make you stronger."
Confusion immediately spread across the room.
Several prodigies exchanged uncertain glances.
Even I narrowed my eyes.
Caelion noticed.
A faint smile appeared.
"You disagree."
"I do."
I answered calmly.
"If bloodlines don't increase strength..."
"...why do clans treasure purity?"
A few heads nodded.
Clearly...
The same question existed in everyone's mind.
Caelion smiled wider.
"Excellent."
He turned fully toward me.
"Then answer this."
"If I place the sharpest sword..."
"...into the hands of a child..."
"Who becomes stronger?"
"The child?"
"...or the sword?"
Silence.
No one answered.
"The sword possesses power."
"The child possesses potential."
"But unless the child learns to wield it..."
"...the sword will kill its owner long before it kills anyone else."
Understanding slowly dawned across several faces.
He nodded.
"Exactly."
He tapped his chest once more.
"Bloodline purity..."
"...is merely the sharpness of your sword."
"It increases your potential."
"It does not guarantee victory."
He began pacing again.
"I have seen cultivators born with ninety-percent ancestral blood."
"They were hailed as geniuses."
"They were worshipped."
"They were envied."
A brief pause.
"They died."
No one interrupted.
"They awakened power..."
"...their minds couldn't control."
"The beast consumed them."
He looked across the room.
"I have also seen cultivators whose bloodlines were barely worthy of notice."
"They possessed little talent."
"Little recognition."
"But..."
"They mastered themselves."
"They climbed."
"Step by step."
"Until they stood above the very prodigies who once mocked them."
The room remained silent.
Every word carried the weight of experience.
Not theory.
Memory.
Caelion stopped before the tables.
He picked up one of the crystal cups.
Then filled it halfway with water.
Holding it before us, he asked,
"What do you see?"
"Water."
Someone answered.
He nodded.
"Potential."
Then...
He poured more water into the cup.
Until it reached the brim.
"What happens..."
"...if I continue pouring?"
"It overflows."
Another trainee replied.
Caelion smiled.
"Exactly."
"The cup determines how much water it can contain."
He slowly placed the cup back onto the table.
"Your body..."
"...is the cup."
"Your bloodline..."
"...is the water."
"If the vessel is too weak..."
"...the power spills over."
"And when that happens..."
His smile vanished.
"The beast awakens."
A cold silence settled across the chamber.
For the first time...
No one viewed bloodline purity with admiration alone.
Now...
There was caution.
Respect.
Even fear.
I remained silent.
Yet every word etched itself into my mind.
Potential.
Control.
Mastery.
The System had strengthened my body relentlessly.
Gravity.
Pain.
Endurance.
At the time...
I thought it had merely been making me stronger.
Now...
I understood.
It had been strengthening the vessel.
Preparing the cup...
Before filling it.
Caelion's gaze drifted toward me.
Our eyes met.
His goldish-blue eyes reflected quiet understanding.
Almost...
As though he knew exactly what I had realized.
Then he looked away.
"The beast within you..."
"...is neither good..."
"...nor evil."
"It simply exists."
"It waits."
"It watches."
"And one day..."
His voice dropped.
"It will ask a single question."
The chamber became deathly still.
"Who..."
"...is in control?"
No one answered.
Because no one could.
Caelion slowly folded his hands behind his back once more.
A faint smile returned to his face.
"Tomorrow..."
"We begin finding the answer."
His words settled like stones upon our hearts.
None of us realised it yet.
But today's lesson...
Had never been about bloodlines.
It had been a warning.
— End of Part II —