Being entrusted with someone's life by a stranger of great power—this was an experience Mi Bai had never encountered before.
He had no doubt that even if he commanded the man in front of him to march to his death, the other would comply without hesitation.
He also understood clearly that this unwavering obedience came solely because he held the Dean's token. Such extraordinary authority left this lifelong academic, who had taught no more than orphaned children in times of war, somewhat flustered.
But the composure honed by years of study calmed him quickly, allowing him to carefully contemplate the entire situation's context and implications.
The council chamber was so silent that only the even rhythm of Mi Bai's breathing could be heard, while the others waited quietly. They all understood that this was nothing more than a formality.
