A bright, sunny day with a gentle breeze at Ikrit Academy.
Many areas of the campus were equipped with magic screens similar to those found in commercial districts.
These screens not only provided real-time news, announcements, and academic event updates for students and faculty but also broadcasted entertaining short videos and live coverage of major school activities.
As a result, they often became a gathering point for discussions during breaks.
Like now—
The live broadcast of the entrance exam, a yearly event that many upperclassmen found amusing.
Some watched purely for the entertainment of seeing new students suffer or embarrass themselves, while others, especially senior students, kept an eye out for potential recruits to invite into their teams.
On the screen—
The blizzard raged, an expanse of white stretching endlessly.
While other examinees struggled through the freezing cold, Lance had already cleared the trial’s conditions.He sat comfortably in a warm house, roasting snacks by the fireplace.
His relaxed and skilled movements showed no trace of tension or urgency, as if he weren’t inside a Shadow Realm trial but filming a commercial for Holy Kingdom-style desserts.
Now, all he had to do was wait for the Artificial Shadow Realm's time limit to expire and for the system to finalize his score.
Even though not many students had been paying attention to Lance at first—
That changed quickly as shocked exclamations began to echo through the crowd.
Students soon started buzzing with discussion.
“Do you guys know what this guy just did?!”
“What?”
“This lunatic just straight-up arrested the entire family!”
“That’s… his way of ensuring they have a warm winter?”
“Well, did he complete the objective or not? He actually did.”
“HAHAHAHA! What kind of logic genius is this?!”
Learning and Education Building, Outdoor Terrace
Some students sat, others stood, forming a lively crowd gathered around the hanging magic screen.
Many were already discussing this mysterious "Lance Wilfort"—
Who was he?
No one present had heard of the name before.
Only one student, wearing an Alchemical Institute emblem, mentioned that they had heard of a "Wilfort Merchant Guild".
Apparently, the guild’s chairman had an illegitimate son.
But as for Lance Wilfort? Never heard of him.
Talia
Listening to the increasing chatter about Lance, Talia sat at the edge of the terrace, on an outdoor wooden bench, waiting.
She lowered her head, shifting her gaze away from the magic screen.
She had been watching Lance's split-screen feed the whole time—
But the moment she fully understood his actions, hearing the students react in shock, she wanted nothing more than to disappear.
To flee as far as possible.
Because she was starting to hear people mutter:
“This Lance guy doesn’t act like a normal person… Could he be a Demon Clan spy?”
A chill ran down her spine.
Talia absolutely refused to let her association with Lance cause people to misunderstand her as a high-risk individual.
"I swear, I didn’t teach him this…"
In truth, after spending three months with Lance, she had gradually realized that his thinking and personality were a bit unusual.
But not until this moment did she finally confirm it—
This guy is seriously messed up.
Just being near him made it impossible not to attract attention.
However—
A deal was a deal.
She had to protect Lance.
She still had to act as his mentor.
The thought that she would soon have to leave the academy with him and stay in the Royal Capital together for an extended period made her feel like she was roasting over a fire.
If—
After all the endless patience and effort she had put into her dream of restoring the Demon Clan, her identity was exposed because of this human, causing her plan to fail entirely—
She’d rather die with him.
At this moment, she both hoped Lance would hurry up and finish his exam so they could leave together—
And also never come out, so no one would see them together.
“Lan…ce…”
Talia gritted her teeth, muttering his name.
Her hands clenched into tight fists, every second agonizing.
Since the fall of the Demon Clan, she had wandered alone for decades—
Yet this was the first time a human had made her feel such torment.
Seventh-Floor Atrium, Learning and Education Building
A space where modern design met natural elements.
A skylight let sunlight flood the area.
Lush indoor plants surrounded the atrium, while art installations and sculptures added a refined cultural atmosphere.
Standing in the middle of it all, Chief Examiner and Sage Institute Dean, Loren, clenched his fists.
This exam was his personal selection.
According to historians, this Tier 1 Shadow Realm, "The Hidden Flame of Winter," was based on a real event from over ten thousand years ago in an ancient civilization.
It depicted a moral dilemma faced by the last Holy Emperor, a ruler renowned for his righteousness, during his youth.
Loren had deep admiration for this legendary figure.
To him, every deed of the Holy Emperor was worthy of endless respect.
In reality, this exam was not just about assessing "wisdom and mental fortitude."
Loren had hoped that, by experiencing this Shadow Realm, the students would gain insight into the Holy Emperor’s struggles—
To feel the helplessness and sorrow he must have endured upon discovering the truth—
And to understand his unwavering faith in righteousness, despite everything.
_"Dmn it..."_
Yet this Lance Wilfort kid—
His method—
Made the Holy Emperor look like an idiot.
So sacrificing righteousness and exchanging it for demonic pragmatism was an option, too?!
As he waited for the exam to conclude, Loren glared at the massive magic screen in the atrium—
At Lance, sitting casually by the fire, roasting sweets.
He felt a rage burning inside him.
If only he could enter the Shadow Realm, he’d kick that damn furnace across the room!
"This kid's mana is so weak—why is he even a student in our institute?"
Loren finally calmed down, frowning in confusion.
From the moment he arrived at the exam hall, he had sensed the mana levels of all the examinees.
He distinctly remembered—
Lance's mana was among the lowest in the entire hall.
Even compared to Knight Institute’s physical combat students, his mana was embarrassingly weak.
Had it not been for Lance's unexpected actions on the magic screen, Loren would have mistaken him for a Knight Institute student.
"If he managed to pass the first-round attribute assessment during enrollment, then his mental attribute must be exceptionally high—enough to balance out his overall evaluation after being weighted properly..."
"But how is he supposed to pass the practical exam?"
Unlike the first two rounds, the third round of assessment was completely different.
It required raw ability, leaving no room for tricks or loopholes.
Loren was certain that Lance was not a cleric.
He felt no trace of divine blessings on him.
That meant Lance couldn’t use Cleric-class magic cards, which relied on mental strength to enhance healing effects.
The sunlight streaming through the glass dome shifted angles in the atrium, like the hands of a clock, silently marking the passing of time.
The exam was finally coming to an end.
One by one, the examinees were returned from the Artificial Shadow Realm, exiting in the same order they had entered, stepping out from the massive vortex-like Void Gate.
Only when the last examinee had left did Loren lightly tap the key embedded in the terminal, sealing the Void Gate shut.
The Artificial Shadow Realm Terminal then began its final calculation of exam results.
Standing atop a raised platform, Loren surveyed the atrium.
The qualified examinees who had yet to leave were scattered throughout the space—some unable to hide their excitement, while others remained calm and composed.
Though the examinees had no way of knowing how well their peers performed, it was clear that many were confident—
They firmly believed their Shadow Realm score would be among the highest.