Inside the Vermilion Bird Guildmaster’s office.
Fire Finch, legs casually crossed, brought a potato chip to her alluring vermillion lips, a picture of utter contentment.
“Fire Finch! Could you possibly be more serious during a meeting?”
A furious rebuke erupted from the tablet before her, abruptly shattering the peaceful atmosphere.
Here they were, in the midst of a serious meeting, and this young woman was behaving as if she were merely whiling away the hours watching an idol drama.
Was such conduct truly appropriate?
“Yes, yes, just keep talking; I am listening, after all.”
Fire Finch rolled her eyes, and despite her placating words, she still surreptitiously tucked away the bag of potato chips she held.
‘This old fuddy-duddy is so utterly stubborn,’ she mused. ‘In this day and age, he still insists on doing everything by the book, which is just incredibly dull…’
Yet, he was an elder, and one had to show some respect; otherwise, he would undoubtedly report her to her grandfather, leading to yet another inevitable dressing-down.
“You young lass, how old are you that you’ve already forgotten how to show respect to your elders?”
Within a towering building in Wuling City, the ancient, resonant voice caused every passerby to quicken their pace, lest the old man, in a fit of pique, decide to vent his frustration on an innocent bystander.
Indeed, at that point, there would be no solace to be found.
“Fifth Uncle, please don’t be upset. Fire Finch is listening now, so there’s no need to harp on it.”
A man clad in a green robe, visible on the screen, offered a gentle, conciliatory remark.
“Hmph!”
Wu Cong let out a cold snort, then lapsed into silence.
He was well aware that, as a relic of an older era, he ought not to impose the rigid etiquette of the past upon the youth of today. Yet, each time his gaze fell upon the vivacious Fire Finch, the youngest among them, he invariably felt a familiar spark of frustration ignite within him.
The Four Symbols were sentient entities; as the divine beasts bonded with their contractors, the contractors themselves would be profoundly influenced by their presence, their physical forms diverging significantly from those of ordinary mortals.
Wu Cong, for instance, had been blessed with the Black Tortoise’s boundless vitality, rendering his life force considerably more robust than that of other contractors.
While the contractors of the other three Symbols aged and their divine beasts sought new inheritors, he alone remained steadfastly entrenched as the guildmaster of the Black Tortoise Guild. Indeed, with each passing year, his combat prowess seemed only to intensify.
It was for this very reason that Fire Finch had playfully dubbed him ‘old fuddy-duddy’.
The departure of his old comrades into retirement had left Wu Cong feeling adrift, and Fire Finch’s vivacious, almost impulsive, nature only exacerbated the chasm between their generations – a divide that seemed utterly insurmountable.
“Enough of this idle chatter! Where were we? Continue!” Bai Xiao, the guildmaster of the White Tiger Guild, interjected with an icy tone.
The sudden proliferation of dungeons within the imperial capital had utterly overwhelmed her these past few days; she had no time to engage in placid conversation with these individuals.
Let us swiftly conclude this utterly pointless meeting.
Ao Yu, the guildmaster of the Azure Dragon Guild and the man who had initially attempted to mediate, sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead.
In their fathers’ generation, the Four Symbols Guilds had been as one, united in spirit, with three guilds readily offering aid whenever a single one faced adversity. Why, then, had his own generation become so incredibly challenging to lead?
Even Fifth Uncle, renowned for his gentle demeanor, had grown so volatile. ‘This is truly exasperating!’
Swiftly, however, Ao Yu reined in his emotions and continued, “Let us return to the matter at hand!”
“You have all received the directives from above, I trust? Recently, dungeons have inexplicably begun to appear in vast numbers across various regions, and the current roster of adventurers is no longer sufficient to clear them in a timely manner.”
“Consequently, the think tank proposes establishing a university where S-rank ability users would be responsible for instruction. What are your opinions on this?”
“Absolutely not!” Bai Xiao was the first to vehemently refuse.
If S-ranks were to be responsible for teaching, they would need to be drawn from the major guilds. However, every single member of the White Tiger Guild had already been dispatched to clear dungeons, leaving absolutely no spare personnel.
Should even one S-rank ability user truly be diverted for teaching, the efficiency of dungeon clearing would inevitably plummet.
Even a momentary delay would lead to catastrophic economic losses, and she would not consent!
“This old man believes that requisitioning S-rank ability users is still too far-fetched. After all, each guild possesses only a dozen or two S-rank powerhouses, and they are all strategically dispersed across the nation, each safeguarding a vital region.”
“Should personnel be rashly withdrawn, and a major dungeon subsequently encounter issues, that is not a situation that mere wealth can rectify. Therefore, this old man casts his vote against the proposal.”
Given his extensive experience, Wu Cong possessed a far clearer understanding than the others. The notion of establishing a university staffed entirely by S-rank powerhouses for instruction was simply unfeasible.
While some positive outcomes might eventually materialize, their current strength simply did not permit such a perilous undertaking.
Furthermore, a newly established university would be incapable of providing them with immediate combat strength in the short term. Wu Cong firmly believed that a more prudent approach was advisable.
“Fire Finch, what are your thoughts on this?” Ao Yu directed his gaze toward Fire Finch, the sole individual who had yet to offer an opinion.
He was keen to hear the perspective of this young guildmaster, considering she might well possess an altogether different insight.
“I believe, Fifth Uncle is indeed correct; establishing a university where all instruction is handled by S-rank ability users is simply unrealistic.”
“However! If we were to amend the conditions, perhaps having A-ranks handle the regular instruction, while S-ranks conduct a single public lecture each week, that might indeed be a viable consideration.”
Fire Finch pondered for a brief moment, then articulated her proposal.
The vast experiences and profound insights of S-rank powerhouses would undoubtedly represent an invaluable opportunity for students who had yet to confront the challenges of a dungeon.
S-rank powerhouses were not merely defined by their innate S-rank talents, but also by their demonstrable ability and strategic acumen to solo A-rank dungeons.
A formidable reputation is forged through arduous combat, not merely whispered into existence.
An S-rank talent who has not endured the crucible of blood and fire cannot, by any true measure, be deemed an S-rank.
Otherwise, how could a nation as vast as Z-Country boast only a mere hundred or so S-rank adventurers?
Naturally, there existed exceptional individuals whose abilities were so utterly prodigious that they achieved their peak upon their very debut. Aya Tone stood as one such example.
“Therefore, combining all your esteemed opinions, the motion is hereby rejected!”
Ao Yu calmly declared the outcome of the meeting, a conclusion that, in his estimation, had been inevitable from the start.
Unless they were to relinquish a portion of the larger dungeons to free up personnel, they would indeed suffer from a severe manpower shortage, precisely as Bai Xiao had articulated.
However, the resources obtainable from each major dungeon were colossal; to abandon even one would entail the loss of an immense quantity of valuable assets.
“I shall go and discuss this further with those above. Meeting adjourned!”
With the meeting concluded, Fire Finch did not immediately disconnect the video call. Instead, she detained Bai Xiao, initiating a conversation.
“What do you want? I have no time!”
Bai Xiao was in a hurry to attend to dungeons, and having been summoned to the meeting had already filled her with simmering anger. To then be detained by Fire Finch after its conclusion, it was no wonder she was utterly incensed.
“Auntie Bai, there’s no need to be angry.”
“Call me Auntie one more time!”
A murderous glint flashed across Bai Xiao’s face. Barely in her thirties and at the zenith of her feminine allure, how could she possibly tolerate being addressed as ‘Auntie’ by a mere slip of a girl in her early twenties?
Fire Finch, however, remained unrepentant, for by the dictates of seniority, Bai Xiao was indeed her aunt.
“My father instructed me to call you that.”
“Go to hell, you little brat! I truly cannot fathom why the Vermilion Bird would skip an entire generation to choose a mere slip of a girl like you.”
“I don’t know either.” Fire Finch, too, harbored a deep curiosity as to why the Vermilion Bird had bypassed her father, choosing instead a newly awakened child like herself.
Thankfully, others were on hand to ensure the guild’s smooth operation, allowing her, as guildmaster, merely to preside over the central affairs. Otherwise, Fire Finch felt she might well have burst into tears.