At six o'clock, the welcome banquet began right on time.

"All students, please be quiet. First, let’s welcome the esteemed headmaster to give the opening speech." No matter where you were, large events always started with leadership speeches—usually light, formulaic remarks. Nothing unusual.

But this opening speech at the welcome banquet felt uniquely vivid to Ouyang Tao—even life-changing.

Headmaster Grant was an elderly man past seventy, yet still energetic and spirited. He wore a luxurious black robe and carried a bird specimen perched on a nest. He strode confidently to the podium. Behind him, staff members hauled several large iron boxes onto the stage.

"Good evening to all new students and outstanding seniors!" Though just a simple greeting, the headmaster’s booming voice carried such authority it instantly invigorated everyone.

Next, he raised the nest and asked, "You see this specimen. Does anyone know what bird it is?"

"It’s a cuckoo, Headmaster," someone stood up to answer.

"Correct, a cuckoo," the headmaster said, then pulled an egg from the nest. "Now, what kind of egg is this?"

"Naturally, a cuckoo egg, Headmaster," the same person replied. Snickers rose from the Beast Department seats.

"Please sit, student. Sadly, this is a sparrow egg." More laughter followed. The embarrassed student sat down awkwardly. The headmaster signaled for silence. "And this nest is a sparrow’s—cuckoos don’t build nests."

What was he getting at? This speech, which Ouyang Tao expected to be cliché, suddenly sparked intense curiosity.

"Cuckoos lay eggs only in other birds’ nests. But baby cuckoos hatch earlier, grow larger, and need more food. So what do they do?" With a flick, he dropped the sparrow egg. It shattered on the floor. "This is their way!"

He overturned the entire nest. All sparrow eggs crashed down, smashing into debris. For some reason, this act deeply shook Ouyang Tao—as if something inside him had shattered too.

"You are the early-rising cuckoos. And these…" He paused, then raised his hand. The iron boxes sprang open. Papers flew into the air like snowflakes, showering the hall. "…are failed sparrow eggs."

Ouyang Tao grabbed one paper and instantly understood—rejected applicants’ forms. Moments later, all forms ignited spontaneously, vanishing without ash. The headmaster continued.

"Every year, millions apply to Augustus College from across the globe, dreaming of your seats. But we accept at most three thousand thirty. You’ve defeated millions to sit here. Congratulations!"

Applause erupted, then faded. Yet a flicker of fear sprouted in Ouyang Tao’s heart.

"Some may call this cruel, heartless—even pity the failures. But I say: no need! Cuckoos face pine caterpillars ordinary birds can’t handle. You’ll accomplish missions beyond ordinary reach."

This was no ordinary academy! Ouyang Tao knew it instantly. The headmaster’s final words confirmed it.

"Augustus College is a war academy! Each of you is a warrior! Every day is battle! You won the first fight—but never slack off. The real war begins now!"

A strict hierarchy, brutal competition like war—this forge would produce magical elites. Truly the top-tier academy, as harsh as rumored.

But Ouyang Tao wondered: what were these "missions beyond ordinary reach"?

After the speech, the banquet began. Ouyang Tao was again wrapped in isolation. Now came his first true embarrassment—special department students dined on French set menus, but he couldn’t use knife and fork.

Others chatted elegantly over their meals. After finishing the garlic bread, Ouyang Tao stared helplessly at his plate, unsure how to start.

He tried mimicking others. But his knife and fork scraped the plate with a grating screech. Disdainful glances from his tablemates deepened his embarrassment.

Damn it—he couldn’t even eat properly! Their silent stares infuriated him more than past mockery. This was bone-deep contempt—plain disdain for commoners. It pierced his pride.

Ouyang Tao felt like sitting on pins and needles. Every second dragged. He almost stood to leave—but didn’t.

Leaving meant running away—admitting defeat. That’d only earn more scorn.

Besides, rare delicacies shouldn’t go to waste!

Screw it. Etiquette? To hell with it. Just get full.

He gulped the creamy soup in big swallows. Then he speared food—foie gras, cod, dessert, whatever—and stuffed it in. Even the steak, he gnawed straight off the fork. Finally, he downed the juice, wiped his mouth, and stood to leave.

"Truly uncultured." "A commoner is a commoner." "How he got into the Mechanical Department is a joke."

Ouyang Tao heard every whisper. But screw it—he was full!—though half from anger.

Do your own thing, ignore the noise behind you. This meal silently set the tone for his entire life at Augustus College.