For Han Xiangxue, Lai Yingxin, and Qu Yi, Teacher Su Yin felt a tangled mix of affection and frustration.

She adored their exceptional talents—it was certain they’d graduate with flying colors.

Yet she was endlessly exasperated by how unruly the three girls were!

After all, whether in talent or family background, each surpassed the last.

Fortunately, their upbringing was solid; none had ever leaned on their status to defy teachers.

Thus, few at the academy knew Qu Yi and her friends’ true backgrounds. Most only saw three stunning girls who always stuck together—powerful, radiant, and the undisputed strength-and-beauty icons of Class One!

"Class is in session!"

"Good morning, Teacher!"

"Good morning, everyone. Please be seated!"

After exchanging bows, Teacher Su Yin opened her textbook.

"In past lessons, we covered the duties and benefits of being a Demonhunter in the Dragon Realm. Today, I’ll explain why over eighty percent of the nation’s Demonhunters choose to serve under its banner..."

Academy life here was no lighter than regular high school.

Cultural courses? Barely passing was enough—they were just supplementary.

The real focus: forging competent, formidable Demonhunters.

The heavy workload kept Qu Yi busy for days, granting Ye Thirteen blissful lazy mornings.

But after slacking off too long, restlessness crept in.

He caught himself hoping the doorbell would ring—longing to open the door and meet Qu Yi’s bright, heart-mending smile.

Still, "slacking" wasn’t total idleness.

Ye Thirteen stood on the balcony, braving the cold wind with a cigarette between his fingers, scrolling through confidential intel reserved for Dragon Realm’s highest echelons.

"The situation’s better than I feared. At least state-employed Demonhunters obey orders. As for the independent ones..."

He took a slow drag, eyes shadowed with helplessness.

Independent Demonhunters were raised within noble families—never reliant on the state like ordinary recruits.

True, Demonhunters held immense potential, but cultivation demanded staggering resources: mountains of food, demon flesh, essence blood... and far more.

For an awakened citizen, joining the state system was the wisest path—specialized military or police units, with far better benefits.

Dragon Realm citizens took pride in this path. The culture held strong.

Yes, some joined noble houses—but often as lackeys.

Unlike state-certified Demonhunters bound by strict regulations, noble-affiliated hunters operated with fewer constraints.

Yet with the Realm actively curbing talent-hoarding clans, the overall distribution remained reasonably healthy.

Still… Demonhunters were desperately scarce.

Not as grim as Ye Thirteen once feared, nor as hopeful as he’d imagined in Jinling.

Take Southgate Garrison:

A towering wall repelled demons; a million border troops and numerous Demonhunters stood guard—shielding the Realm’s southern peace.

Regular soldiers? Plentiful.

Demonhunters? A glaring shortage.

Border-wall squads were prioritized. When Greater Demons struck, Qu Xuelin rushed to assist. That front held firm.

The real crisis? The six urban districts thriving under Southgate’s shadow.

Tens of millions lived there. The Demonhunter demand was colossal.

Thankfully, city-incursion demons usually emerged via Micro Sky Rifts—manageable by a well-coordinated fourth-rank Patrol Squad.

But fourth-rank hunters were elites, mostly stationed at the border.

Qu Xuelin, however, was brilliant.

He proposed letting top Demonhunter students form urban Patrol Squads—framed as "nurturing excellence through real-world practice."

No first-rank rookies or second-rank novices were sent; only third-rank minimum, mostly fourth-rank.

They lacked only experience. With combat footage study and field drills, they could uphold city safety.

And if a true threat emerged? Academy teachers would drop everything to support state-employed urban guards.

This was Ye Thirteen’s summary. To enact it, Qu Xuelin drafted dozens of laws—freeing nearly a thousand Demonhunter posts at Southgate.

Yet over a thousand still labored under crushing rotations. Fatigue hindered growth; casualties rose.

The outlook remained bleak.

Bored, Ye Thirteen calculated: 1,500 more elite fourth-rank hunters needed for sustainable shifts. 3,000 to truly resolve the shortage.

The Realm might scrape together that number… for Southgate alone. Other regions? Likely worse.

He’d heard Qu Xuelin’s so-called "child labor" scheme was spreading nationwide—a clear sign: qualified Demonhunters were scarce everywhere.

A headache prickled behind Ye Thirteen’s temples.

He was an authority in this field—but he couldn’t conjure thousands of hunters from thin air.

Worried? Slightly. Only slightly.

If the Realm’s greatest minds hadn’t solved this, he wouldn’t crack it overnight.

One step at a time. Contact old comrades when a plan emerged.

For now—let it be.

He stretched, heading to cook instant noodles.

After tasting Qu Yi’s cooking, he’d accepted his own skills were rookie-level. Frankly, he couldn’t be bothered.

As he ate, a notification flashed on his holographic display.

An auto-subscribed channel?

He glanced up. Latest intel on the Starlight Feather Squad.

His expression darkened.

Not because they thrived—but because they struggled.

He’d co-founded that squad. Even after leaving, he’d quietly hoped they’d flourish.

But…