After a round of discussion, the guardians returned to their respective posts.
Brian also ordered them to prioritize the creation of farmland and livestock pens, knowing that agriculture was the foundation of any nation.
At the moment, Brian was leisurely fishing in the mountain stream near the castle when a figure resembling a fairy approached him.
"My lord, did you call for me?" Lylia asked.
"Yes."
"I've been walking around the city, and I noticed that many children aren't going to school. Even though we haven't established an education division yet, we should at least build an academy first. Tell the people to construct one that can accommodate five thousand students," Brian said.
"As you command, young master," Lylia replied.
A month later…
Brian and the guardians stood before a massive gate.
Brian was momentarily stunned—constructing a building capable of holding five thousand students in just one month would have been unthinkable in his old world. He even wondered whether the workers had gone without rest, working day and night to finish it.
As it turned out, his guess was correct. News that their city lord was building an academy for the children had stirred the townsfolk's enthusiasm, prompting them to volunteer and help with construction. With so many hands pitching in, the project was completed in record time.
Brian had come here with the others to inaugurate the academy. When the craftsmen asked what name should be placed on the plaque, Brian said it would be called Sky Academy, after the name of his dream future kingdom.
"Let's head inside. It looks like everyone is eager to see the academy open to the public," Brian said.
"Yes, young master!" the guardians responded enthusiastically.
Brian entered and stepped onto the stage, where a ribbon had been set up at his request—an idea borrowed from his past life's ribbon-cutting ceremonies.
"Citizens of Sevenbeast City," Brian began, "as your city lord, I hereby inaugurate the first academy in our city—a foundation that will make our children more intelligent and stronger in cultivation."
His speech was met with loud cheers and applause from the crowd. Even the guardians and city officials looked excited.
Brian cut the ribbon and declared, "With this, Sky Academy is officially open. Registration will begin tomorrow."
"Hooooray!!!" the people shouted.
"Long live the city lord! Long live our ruler!"
"Long live the great Brian!"
Brian then entered the principal's office, accompanied by the guardians.
Once gathered, Leo asked, "Your Excellency, do you already have cultivation techniques prepared for the students?"
"Don't worry," Brian replied.
"I want you and Lylia to oversee the admissions tomorrow. Oh, and have you both read the curriculum I prepared?"
"Yes, Your Excellency, but we're still a bit confused," Key admitted. "It's very different from other academies."
"Alright, I'll explain. Sky Academy has two divisions: Special and General. The Special Division covers government (politics), military, law, intelligence, and education—graduates will be eligible to work directly under the kingdom. The General Division covers agriculture & livestock, and business, though it's harder for general graduates to get government jobs."
"To enter the Special Division, students must pass an entrance exam that I'll personally design. Those who fail will automatically enter the General Division, which has no entry requirements," Brian explained.
"Special and General? Are you implementing a caste system in the academy?" Lylia asked.
"No, no—it's not a caste system. The Special Division simply requires more effort to enter, while the General Division doesn't. All facilities and treatment will be the same for both divisions. If any teacher discriminates against General students, they will be fired. If a student does it, they'll be expelled," Brian said firmly.
The guardians relaxed upon hearing this.
"Oh, and one more thing—announce to everyone that children aged six to fourteen are required to study here, free of charge. Those aged fifteen to twenty may still enroll by taking advanced classes, which will be taught directly by high-level experts," Brian added.
"Yes, Your Excellency," the guardians replied.
"Good. Return to your duties. And Lylia—find people who have already studied at an academy to fill out these," Brian said, handing her a stack of papers.
These papers contained test questions he had personally written, based on exams from his own schooling—from elementary, middle, and high school, and even a few from university—copied into about five hundred sheets. Brian had prepared them to help recruit qualified teachers for the academy.
A day had passed, and the academy was now bustling with townsfolk.
"Hah, so it's no different from other academies—still requires an entrance exam. People like us could never get in," grumbled a man.
"Hah? Nonsense! Haven't you heard? Children aged six to fourteen are required to study at the academy—and it's free!" barked an elderly man.
"Then why is there an exam to enter the academy?" the complainer asked.
"That's for the special classes! Those are for government, military, intelligence, and education. Meanwhile, business and agriculture fall under the general classes, and those are open to everyone," the old man explained.
"So, other than the military class, the rest won't learn cultivation?" the man asked again.
"They still will—but alongside other subjects that'll benefit them once they graduate," the elder replied.
Meanwhile, Brian was reviewing the papers Lylia had brought back. As he suspected, the people of this world were somewhat behind in education—most tested at a junior high level, with a few reaching high school.
But as he reached the last few pages, Brian nearly jumped in surprise—someone had actually managed to answer questions from the university-level section he'd included.
"Lylia, bring these people to me," Brian ordered.
"As you wish, Your Highness," she replied.
Not long after, five hundred people—both young and old—gathered before him, all standing respectfully.
"Greetings, Your Highness," they said in unison.
"Alright, I won't waste time. You've completed the test I gave, which serves as the standard for becoming a teacher—ranked Green, Yellow, Red, and White. If you accept the badge I give you, you'll become a teacher. If not, you may leave now," Brian said.
"Your Highness, do you mean… teaching at the academy you've established?" asked an older man.
"Yes. These badges represent your teaching class and rank," Brian confirmed.
"Anyone leaving?" he asked.
No one moved.
"Good. Since no one's leaving, I'll now distribute your badges based on your test results," Brian continued.
"Oh, and let me explain. First, the ranks: Green is the lowest, teaching beginners. Yellow is for senior teachers who train students after they pass the beginner level under a Green teacher. Red is advanced-level, and White is national-level, above the rest of you," Brian said.
"I understand the test isn't a perfect measure of intelligence, but I expect you to respect those ranked above you. If you want to advance, you can study at the city library when it opens in three months, then take the higher-level test from a White-ranked teacher," he added.
"Alright, let's go outside and watch the entrance exam for the special classes," Brian said.
Outside, two teenagers were talking.
"Watch—I'll get into the special class and crush you," one boy boasted.
"Hmph, not a chance. I'll be the one to enter the special class and work directly under His Highness Brian," the other shot back.
Many children had similar dreams—hoping to one day work under Brian himself.
As the crowd chatted, Brian stepped onto the stage, and silence fell instantly.
"Hello, everyone. I hope you all do well on the exam and achieve the scores needed for the special classes. But don't be discouraged if you don't make it—special and general classes will be treated equally," Brian announced.
"Without further delay, new students may head inside to begin the exam. And don't even think about cheating—anyone caught will be barred from the academy," he warned.
"Yes, Your Highness!" the crowd chorused, before filing into the classrooms.