Chapter 133: Graduation

Four years passed in the blink of an eye.

During this time, the little chubby Ding Le entered the Dream World less frequently. Through constant guidance from his most trusted Master Jie Ming and teachings from Magic Department’s Dean Zuo, his attitude toward dreams shifted. He began believing people must face reality, as dreams were ultimately illusions. As Ding Le’s doubts grew, the aura of the giant Creator in the Dream World weakened dramatically. Nearly one-third of the Creator’s authority scattered. Zuo Meng, acting as the world’s chess player, claimed the ‘pieces’ lost by the giants and absorbed part of their power. His own Dream World expanded massively, starting to merge with the World of Giants.

If Zuo Meng had once been an ant in the Dream World, after seizing a third of the giant Creator’s authority, he’d grown into a formidable force matching the Creator’s presence.

“Almost there.”

The Mystic Lord’s dojo—once the Liuhe Sect—had become a sacred site. As the world changed, the dojo grew more mysterious. The Mystic Lord, now a Lord who rarely appeared, became the most enigmatic of the four Lords. For Zuo Meng, managing the Dream World required minimal attention, as most of his consciousness remained in the Origin World.

Serving as Southeast University’s Magic Department dean, he taught magic he’d invented himself.

“Consider yourselves officially graduated today.”

Zuo Meng stood at the academy gates, finishing his speech to the graduating class. After a final glance at his students, he dissolved into elements and vanished.

The lively ceremony lasted until dusk.

Zhou Shang and Ding Le leaned against a pillar in the hall, chatting lazily.

“Graduated. What’s next for you?”

“Find work first.”

Both had changed markedly over four years, carrying themselves with newfound confidence.

“Not joining the guardians? Senior Sister Wu Li’s been there a year.” Zhou Shang elbowed Ding Le. After four years, they’d become inseparable friends. Zhou Shang had heard countless times about Ding Le’s crush on Wu Li.

In contrast, Zhou Shang had thrived romantically—within two years of enrollment, he’d dated Senior Sister Huo Yuanyuan and several others, becoming quite the smooth talker.

“Senior Wu…”

Ding Le fell silent. Unlike Zhou Shang, he’d been timid since high school, bullied by delinquents until insecurity became ingrained. Even entering the Magic Department—unreachable for ordinary people—hadn’t erased this trait. This lingering weakness explained why Master Jie Ming and Zuo Meng still hadn’t achieved their final goal despite years of effort.

“Maybe later.”

“That again! When will you grow a spine?” Zhou Shang rolled his eyes, having long since figured out his friend’s nature.

Unlike regular Magic Department professors, their group enjoyed special status. Being Dean Zuo’s last true disciples, they benefited from his prestige—senior professors never dared disrespect them. This bred inherent pride in Zhou Shang and four others, while Ding Le always seemed out of place despite trying.

“Let’s visit Master Jie Ming. Haven’t seen him in ages.” Zhou Shang changed topics, patting Ding Le’s shoulder.

“Master Jie Ming isn’t old.”

Ding Le smiled. After four years, Jie Ming felt like family. The monk’s selfless care was obvious to anyone.

Once, Ding Le had asked why Jie Ming treated them so kindly.

The answers always involved cryptic terms like “fate” or “karma.”

“Not old? Master Yan Kong from Scripture Pavilion said Jie Ming looked the same when he was young! Now Yan Kong’s ancient while Jie Ming hasn’t aged a day.”

“Wait—that bearded monk missing most teeth? He’s nearly a hundred!”

“Exactly! So Master Jie Ming’s practically ancient.”

“If true, he’s not just old—he’s immortal…”

Their chatter faded as they wandered off.

Both knew their paths would diverge after today.

“Let’s grab drinks too. I’m moving back home tomorrow.” Three other graduates hailed a taxi, planning a wild night.

With these five graduating, all seven of Zuo Meng’s students had completed their training.

Leaving campus, Zuo Meng materialized at Bailong Temple.

“His worldview’s set. Only that stubborn weakness remains—it leaves an escape route in his subconscious. Remove this flaw, and we’ll both be reborn.”

Zuo Meng never met Jie Ming face-to-face these four years. The monk assumed Zuo, like himself, served some great being. Their sound-transmission communications and combined scheming had smoothly molded Ding Le’s beliefs.

“I’ll handle it.”

Jie Ming raised his head, radiating energy distinct from ability users or mages.

Golden Core!

This demon monk truly deserved his reputation. Without external help in the Origin World, he’d forced his cultivation to Golden Core stage—strong enough to crush any ability user. Level one to three ability users were jokes before him; even taboo-level opponents stood no chance. Golden Core led to Nascent Soul, then Transformation God.

Here, Transformation God cultivators equaled deities. Nascent Soul matched demigods, while Golden Core surpassed taboo level, representing peak power with divinity.

Truthfully, taboo-level ability users, Golden Core cultivators, and Fourth-level Great Mages all ranked as strong individuals. But Zuo Meng’s lofty perspective made lower tiers seem chaotic and weak—like a billionaire viewing both $1 and $10,000 as trivial, though the latter counts as wealth elsewhere.