Chapter 19: White-Bearded Starfall?

The Canteria Magic Academy, being an institution founded long ago and continuing to this day, enjoys considerable prestige both inside and outside the Empire.

Many nobles from across the Empire send their children here to study, regardless of whether they actually intend for them to learn magic.

Most of them are not truly hoping for their descendants to become mages.

They only want their children to gain the credential of having “studied at Canteria Academy” as a stepping stone for future advancement and status.

Although the presence of such students has always been a point of criticism from outsiders, in reality it is precisely because Canteria accepts these noble youths that the Academy receives such generous and unique support from the Empire.

Of course, this is only one of the many reasons Canteria is so renowned across the Empire and continent, and in truth, a very small part of it.

The main reason lies in its far more advanced teaching system, and the high degree of independence and success rate that system cultivates in its students.

Unlike other magic academies, which follow loose and unstructured teaching approaches, Canteria adopts a grade-level and class-based system.
Students of the same entrance year and similar talent levels are grouped into the same “class module,” forming an organic “unit.”

Students in these units are required to wear Academy-issued uniforms that signify their year and department.

And regardless of wealth or status, everyone must eat in the school cafeteria and live in the shared dormitories.

Reducing conflict caused by social comparison is only a secondary reason.

The primary purpose is to ease the instructors’ teaching burdens — they no longer need to individually adjust lessons for every student with different talent levels.

They simply teach the standardized curriculum prepared by the Academy to their assigned class.

After that, through a series of exams and evaluations, the Academy identifies which students are gifted, which are average, and which need special support.

With modular teaching and unified testing, instructors and the Academy leadership can more accurately assess overall teaching outcomes during each period, and adjust large-scale institutional decisions based on these results.

In short, after this unprecedented reform was implemented, Canteria — once unremarkable decades ago — rapidly rose to fame after graduating several widely recognized high-ranking mages in just a few graduating classes.

And here’s the interesting part.

The one who proposed and led this reform was not the headmaster.

It was Rein’s mentor — who had already earned a high-ranking mage qualification in her early twenties.

…

Interesting.

While walking toward the Academy, Sal listened to Rein’s explanation and felt something was increasingly off.

Why did this so-called innovative reform… feel strangely familiar?

More than familiar — Sal had personally lived it before.

For example… when Sal attended middle school and high school back on Earth.

Class grouping, regular exams, cafeteria meals, shared dormitories—

There were even uniforms.

Sal no longer had the energy to listen to Rein praise his mentor’s greatness.

Because after thinking just a little, she immediately realized the truth.

This was literally the basic education system of modern China from before she crossed over!!

“Hey, Rein.”

Sal, walking behind him, spoke.

Rein could not see the very complicated expression on her face.

So Rein simply responded normally.

“Yes?”

“Your mentor… can you tell me her name?”

“…Why suddenly ask that?”

Rein was clearly surprised.

He expected Sal to ask about the Academy, not his mentor.

And unfortunately, this was the one question he couldn’t answer.

Seeing Rein hesitate, Sal assumed the mentor had requested her identity be kept secret.

But then Rein finally spoke — and surprised her more than she expected.

“I… actually don’t know.”

“You don’t know… your mentor’s name?”

Rein nodded, then continued under Sal’s incredulous stare.

“Actually, no one in the Academy — or even the whole continent — knows her real name.”

“Then what does everyone call her?” Sal asked.

“There has to be a title, at least—”

“There is.”

Rein nodded.

Sal exhaled, raised her water pouch— and nearly spit the water out at the next sentence.

“In the Academy, she asks people to call her Master Xingxuan.
But outside the Academy, most who know her call her—”

“White-Bearded Starfall.”

Pffff—!

COUGH COUGH COUGH!!

“You okay? Did you choke on water?”

Sal quickly waved him off while her mind raced in complete shock.

There was no doubt now.

Rein’s mentor was absolutely — just like her — a person who crossed to this world from Earth.

No question.

But instead of excitement, Sal felt only deep resentment.

(Why is it that we both crossed over… yet he gets to become a respected archmage… while I have to live in hiding as a pure-blooded dragon?)

Oh, yes.

This world was always unfair.

Even among transmigrators, the difference was this large.

In that moment, Sal completely abandoned any thought of wanting to meet this “White-Bearded Starfall.”

Yes, it was thanks to that person’s recommendation that Sal could enroll.

But that alone did not prove genuine goodwill.

For all she knew, that old thing was just like Rein — only interested in her pure-blooded dragon identity.

To put it simply:

Sal believed her relationship with Rein contained nothing except mutual use.

Not friendship.

Not companionship.

Just benefit.