SSS Rank: Strongest Beast Master

Jonah's return to the Academy was nothing like his arrival. Back then, he had been just another poor kid from the slumps, a nobody in a crowd of new students.

Now, he was the center of attention.

The news of his "sainthood" got home before he did. As their transport touched down at the main Academy entrance, a massive crowd was already waiting. It was a bizarre mix of students whispering excitedly, professors looking on with intense curiosity, and even a handful of junior clergy members from the local church, their hands clasped in prayer.

"Oh, great," Vanessa whispered from beside him. "A fan club. This is my worst nightmare."

The moment Jonah stepped out of the transport, a wave of noise washed over him.

"It's him! Saint Jonah!"

"He healed the Scar!"

"Did you see the report? They say he can command life itself!"

Jonah felt many eyes on him, and he naturally wanted to pull back. This was worse than facing the Armored-Crag bear. At least the bear just wanted to run him over. These people… they wanted something from him he didn't know how to give.

Before the crowd could rush forward, Seraph was there. She moved with a speed that was almost a blur, placing herself between Jonah and the onlookers. Her face was a mask of hard professionalism and her eyes was so intimidating that the front row of students actually took a step back.

"Academy business," she announced, her voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. "Clear a path."

Two senior student guards came. They stood on both sides, making a safe circle around them. They immediately separated Jonah from Seraph and Vanessa, guiding him away with a level of formality usually reserved for visiting dignitaries.

"Hey!" Vanessa called out, trying to follow, but a guard politely blocked her path.

"The Headmaster wishes to see him. Alone," the guard said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jonah was escorted through hallways that now felt completely different. Students stopped talking and stared as he passed. Professors nodded respectfully. He felt like an exhibit in a zoo, the strange, new creature everyone had come to see.

The Headmaster's office felt like the only sane place in the entire Academy. The old man was waiting for him, a rare, genuine smile on his face.

"Jonah," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You have exceeded all of my expectations. You not only survived the Cardinal's trap, you turned it to our advantage. The Church can't touch you now without looking like they are persecuting their own Living Saint. It's a political masterpiece."

Jonah just nodded, feeling too exhausted to appreciate the strategic victory. "So it's over?"

The Headmaster's smile faded slightly. "The immediate crisis is over, yes. But your life, I'm afraid, is about to become much more complicated."

He gestured to a stack of data-slates on his desk. "These are just from the last hour. The Church has officially petitioned the Academy to create a new 'Department of Sacred Beast Studies.' They have generously offered to fund it, of course, with the clear implication that you and your Progeny are the main subjects of study."

Jonah's stomach sank.

"Furthermore," the Headmaster continued, picking up another slate, "you are now the most eligible bachelor in the nation. I have received no less than twelve marriage alliance proposals from powerful noble families, all offering their daughters to the 'blessed Saint of Cinderfall.' They see you not as a person, but as a political asset to be acquired."

He threw the slate onto the pile, a look of dislike on his face. "Wealthy merchants want to be your patrons. Every student faction on campus is desperately trying to recruit you as their figurehead. Your fame is now a resource, and everyone wants a piece of it."

Jonah felt a wave of dizziness. Marriage? Patrons? He just wanted to study essences and figure out how to build his next Progeny.

"Your workshop," the Headmaster said, his voice softening with a hint of sympathy, "is no longer a private sanctuary. It is now the most famous room on campus. The 'Forge of a Saint.' People will be trying to get a glimpse of it, to steal a souvenir, to leave offerings."

Trapped. He felt completely trapped. The world he had fought so hard to enter now felt like it was shrinking, crushing him under the weight of its expectations.

He finally left the Headmaster's office, his mind spinning. The hallways were still filled with whispers and stares. He just wanted to go back to his room.

When he got there, he found a complex, glowing runic symbol carved onto his door. It shimmered with a faint, blue light.

As a group of curious first-years approached, the rune flared, and they suddenly looked confused, remembered they had to be somewhere else, and hurried away.

Knock-knock-knock. A quiet, familiar pattern.

Jonah opened the door. It was Vanessa. She looked as tired as he felt.

"New ward," she explained, pointing at the rune. "It's a mild confusion charm linked to a privacy field. It should keep the fan club out. For a while, at least."

He stepped aside to let her in.

"They're not going to leave you alone, are they?" she asked softly.

Jonah shook his head, slumping into a chair. He looked around at the tools, the diagrams on his board. His own quest for knowledge and the joy of creating now seemed less important than the demanding public role of Saint Jonah.

I've been dealing with demands for you all day," Vanessa said, pulling up a chair facing him. "Marriage offers, business proposals, a very strange request from the cooking club for a 'blessed feather' for their prize-winning soup..."

Despite everything, Jonah let out a small, tired laugh. "Did you say yes to the soup?"

"I told them you were meditating in another world and couldn't be disturbed by common food calls," she said without cracking a smile.

Their partnership, once a secret study group, was now a matter of strategic importance for the entire Academy. She was his gatekeeper, his shield against the overwhelming flood of his new fame.

He looked at her, his friend, his first real ally in this strange, new world. "Thank you, Vanessa."

"Don't thank me yet," she said, her expression turning serious. "This is just the beginning. The Headmaster is using you. The Church is using you. Everyone wants something. We're going to have to be very, very careful."

He knew she was right. His sainthood wasn't a reward. It was a cage, and the bars were made of other people's expectations.