Strongest Existence Becomes Teacher-Chapter 177: Stren City

Unknown Room,

The chamber was pitch-black except for a single crystal lamp glowing faintly over a metal table. Chains rattled as a rabbit-beastmen woman—gagged, trembling, eyes swollen with tears—struggled uselessly against the bindings digging into her skin.

A dwarf stood beside her.

Short, broad, masked. His leather apron was stained with dried metal and blood. Tools—scalpels, syringes, rune-etched clamps, odd metallic coils—were perfectly organized around him, cold and silent.

In his hand was a thick syringe filled with a dark, iridescent liquid, shifting like molten shadow-metal.

He held her chin with a gloved hand.

"This one should work... the ratio feels correct this time."

Without hesitation, he plunged the syringe into her neck.

The instant the metal liquid entered her veins, the woman’s body convulsed violently.

"MMhhh—MMHHH!!"

Her muffled screams tore through the gag as her spine arched unnaturally. The table shook under her. Something crawled beneath her skin—bulging, writhing, like metal trying to force its way out.

Black-iridescent blood leaked from her ears.

Then from her eyes.

Her fingers twisted. Her legs spasmed. Her heartbeat hammered—then stopped.

The room fell silent.

The dwarf clicked his tongue.

"Tch... still too unstable. The concentration collapses beyond threshold."

He scribbled something on a blood-stained notepad. "Need the perfect ratio... and a final thing... and it will complete ."

He turned away from the corpse as if it were a failed experiment, not a person.

Behind him, covered loosely by a white cloth, something on another table glowed faintly—a heavy pulse of dark, metallic mana, like a heart without a body.

The dwarf didn’t even look at it as he marked the last line in his notebook:

Subject No. 278 — FAILED.

He crossed it out with a thick stroke.

And beneath the page, a crude sketch of a dwarf boy and an older dwarf stood smiling together—labelled:

ME & MASTER

--

At the Astralis Arcanum gates, Zane leaned back casually, coat fluttering in the morning breeze as he waited.

A loud voice echoed down the stone path.

"P-professor Zane—!! I’m here, I’m here!!"

Mira came sprinting at full speed, waving both hands like she was trying not to fall over. Her bags bounced wildly at her sides, her goggles sat crooked on her head, and she skidded to a stop beside Zane with a breathless grin.

"Sorry I got late...!!"

Zane stared at her for two silent seconds.

Her hair was messy.

Her eyes were puffy.

The dark circles under them looked almost bruised.

"...Didn’t you sleep?" he asked flatly.

Mira scratched her cheek, smiling awkwardly.

"Ehehe... I couldn’t sleep because I was too excited! And also because I was working all night trying to analyze that artifact you gave me..."

Zane sighed, flicked his finger, and a small green magic circle formed near his hand.

Flash.

In less than a second, Mira’s puffy eyes vanished, her dark circles faded, and her energy surged back into her body like she’d slept ten hours.

"WOAH—!"

She jumped in place. "Professor Zane, this is amazing! I feel so refreshed!"

A gruff voice grumbled behind them.

"Hey, brat. Have you forgotten that I’m here too?"

Mira froze—then turned slowly.

"...Master Grom...?"

Her eyes sparkled.

"MASTER GROMMM—!!"

She launched herself at the dwarf, practically tackling him as she hugged him with all her strength.

"It’s been so long!! I missed you!!"

Grom harrumphed loudly, crossing his arms as if annoyed—but his eyes softened with unmistakable fondness.

"Hmph. Now you notice me... troublemaker."

Zane watched them with a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hmmm... this story is precious.

Grom dusted off his gauntlets and exhaled.

"Alright, brats. Let’s go... to Gravundar Kingdom."

He brought two fingers to his lips and blew a sharp whistle.

A heartbeat later—

SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!

A powerful screech tore across the sky.

All three of them looked up just in time to see a massive shadow descend.

A griffin — easily the size of a wagon — swooped down with majestic force, wings beating like thunder before landing gracefully in front of them.

Claws dug into the ground. Feathers shimmered gold and brown. Its leonine tail swayed with controlled tension.

Grom grinned proudly.

"Come on. That’s our ride."

Mira’s eyes instantly lit up like stars.

"Yula!!! How are you, girl?!"

She dashed forward and hugged the griffin’s feathery neck.

The griffin lowered her head, rumbling softly—a warm, affectionate sound—and nudged Mira with her beak.

Then Yula crouched low, inviting her riders aboard.

Mira scrambled up excitedly, taking the seat. Grom climbed up infront her with practiced ease.

"Quick, Professor Zane!" she called, patting the empty space between them. "Sit, sit!"

The griffin turned its sharp amber eyes toward Zane, cautious and assessing.

A low growl rumbled in her throat.

Grom scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"She’s... a little wary of strangers," he admitted.

He leaned forward and tapped gently on Yula’s head.

"Yula. He’s a friend."

The griffin blinked once, then her gaze softened—caution fading into neutrality.

Mira beamed.

"See? Come on, Professor Zane!"

Zane glanced at the griffin... then at the cramped seating arrangement.

Three people on one griffin?

He imagined their bodies pressed together awkwardly, Mira’s tools poking into his back, and Grom’s beard in his face.

Yeah. No thanks.

Zane waved a hand casually.

"Nah. I’ll be fine. I have my own way to travel."

Both Mira and Grom blinked.

"Your... own mount?" Grom asked.

"Not exactly," Zane replied.

A faint glow gathered around his feet—

And his body lifted off the ground.

He floated upward effortlessly, coat fluttering in the wind.

Mira’s jaw dropped.

Grom’s eyes widened.

"You... can use flight magic?!" Grom sputtered.

Zane thought to himself, Not exactly flight magic... but close enough.

Out loud, he just nodded.

"Let’s go."

Grom grinned fiercely.

"Right! Yula—take off!"

Mira raised her arms dramatically.

"Let’s go to Gravundar Kingdom!!!"

With a powerful flap of her wings, Yula launched into the sky, wind blasting outward.

Zane rose beside them, effortlessly keeping pace.

Behind them at the gate, Caelum and Lucen stood quietly, watching the trio disappear into the distance—neither saying a word.

.

.

.

High above the clouds, Yula the griffin soared with steady, powerful wingbeats.

Wind rushed past, cool and crisp, brushing through Mira’s hair as she clung to the saddle behind Grom.

Zane flew alongside them—silent, effortless—his body gliding through the air with controlled precision.

Not a single spell circle appeared around him.

No visible mana trail.

Just raw, impossible mastery.

Inwardly, Zane sighed.

We’re flying so slow...

At this pace, I could’ve walked on air and still reached sooner.

Beside him, Grom cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted over the rushing wind, though his voice had noticeably softened.

"We’re close to Gravundar Kingdom!"

Zane glanced at him, noting the dwarf’s suddenly quiet tone.

Of course.

He knew exactly why.

Behind Grom, Mira leaned slightly to the side, eyes sparkling as she watched the world shrinking beneath them.

"Master Grom!" she called cheerfully. "It’s been so long since I visited! How is Dren doing these days?"

The question hit harder than she knew.

Grom’s shoulders stiffened.

His eyes dimmed—sadness flickering through them before he quickly masked it.

"...He’s fine," he replied softly. "He’s doing well."

But as he said it, his gaze slid toward Zane.

Zane, still floating effortlessly at their side, shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Not yet.

Don’t tell her yet.

Grom swallowed and looked forward again.

Mira didn’t notice the tension; she simply smiled warmly and leaned forward, patting Yula .

The griffin screeched happily, wings tilting as they descended lower.

Soon, the landscape below shifted—

From forests and rugged cliff lines to sprawling metalwork towers, rune-powered pylons, and bustling stone streets.

The city ahead gleamed under the morning light.

A place shaped by both dwarven craftsmanship and beastmen vigor.

A place of forges, gears, towering walls, and rune-lit highways.

A city more technologically advanced than anything in Valdoria.

Grom spread his arm proudly.

"Welcome," he declared,

"to Stren City, jewel of the Gravundar Kingdom!"

Zane looked over the city quietly...

Feeling the faint traces of malicious mana pulsing somewhere deep within.

Time to hunt.