In the painting classroom, the light falling upon Lan Qi seemed to grow brighter, as though after a long stretch of gloom, the sun had finally broken through.
And Lan Qi, the Radiant Demon, stood there like a true savior—his very figure dazzling to behold.
Professor Mogut lowered his head slightly in respect.
The appearance of the special envoy meant the academy could be saved.
For a brief moment, the classroom was hushed and solemn; only the ticking of the clock’s second hand could be heard.
At last, Lan Qi spoke again:
“Take me to meet the vice principal. I’ll help you deal with the vampire envoy.”
“Yes.”
Professor Mogut’s reply was grave and respectful.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at Huperion.“And what about her…”
He felt Huperion knew far too much.
Now that the special envoy had revealed himself, perhaps the professors no longer needed to follow the academy’s rules to the letter.
Survival in the face of the vampire envoy took precedence over all else.
“The Demon King himself instructed me: if I discover talented students at the academy, I may take them back to the royal city. This is also part of my mission. Don’t ask about the details. Simply regard her as a colleague I am cultivating.”
Lan Qi cast a cold glance at Huperion as he spoke.
“I understand.”
Professor Mogut quickly nodded. It made sense now—no wonder the envoy had hidden his identity for so long.
And he dared not risk offending the woman again.
Whether or not Lan Qi’s “other mission” was true didn’t matter. Those who understood would understand. It wasn’t his place as a professor to pry.
“Please follow me. I’ll take you to convene an emergency high-level meeting at the academy.”
Without delay, Mogut moved to the door. The envoy had to see the vice principal immediately.
“Good.”
Hands clasped behind his back, Lan Qi inclined his head faintly, radiating the commanding aura of a leader inspecting his subordinates.
He knew he wouldn’t be attending his fourth class today.
In the dim, stony corridor, Bacher anxiously stared at the wooden door of the painting classroom.
At last, the crisp sound of the lock echoed from within. His body stiffened.
Looking up, he saw the familiar figure step through the door—Lan Qi, calm and unshaken as ever, as though he hadn’t just finished a grueling course, but a casual afternoon chat.
Professor Mogut’s eyes swept across Bacher with such chilling indifference that the young demon shivered to his core.
Never had Bacher imagined he would stand this close to the academy’s senior leadership.
“Lo—”
He had just begun to call out when a wave of killing intent surged from Mogut, freezing him like ice.
That aura made it clear: this insignificant student would not be allowed to delay or disrespect Lan Qi, not even for a second.
Yet Lan Qi himself only smiled faintly. With a casual gesture, he signaled Mogut to ease his hostility.
And astonishingly, Mogut obeyed—retracting all his killing intent in deference to Lan Qi’s will.
“Bacher, go back to class. I have proper business to attend to.”
As though ending a game, Lan Qi patted his shoulder lightly while passing, taking his leave.
“I—”
Bacher’s thoughts spun wildly, understanding yet unable to accept the terrifying truth.
He had always known this Radiant Demon was extraordinary. But never had he guessed that his true identity and status surpassed even the senior professors!
Ding.
In that moment of hesitation, a crisp sound drew his gaze.
Lan Qi had tossed him a credit coin as a parting gesture.
Bacher hurried to catch it.
“Thank you!”
Only after Lan Qi’s figure faded into the stairwell did he slowly straighten.
Lowering his head, he opened his palm to inspect the coin.
There lay a strange, unfamiliar token, unlike any he had ever seen.
It was no ordinary coin.
It was a legendary 10-credit coin.
His snake-like pupils quivered uncontrollably, blood boiling with excitement.
He stood frozen in place, unable to calm the storm in his heart.
At last, clutching the coin tightly, he whispered hoarsely:
“I… I want to become a strong one too… someone who can command other demons.”
A desire long buried surged within him, impossible to suppress.
Half an hour later.
At night, the Gerald Memorial Plaza of Ikerite Academy glowed under soft white lights.
The clock tower read half past midnight.
But instead of silence, the square bustled with noise.
Students had decided to stay up through the night, bundled in blankets, claiming spots on the steps.
Many held cups of hot coffee against the chill, while others treated it like a picnic: wooden crates of wine, grills blazing with skewers of meat and vegetables, filling the air with rich, tantalizing aromas.
From the glow of a distant streetlamp, a lone figure approached, gazing toward the massive outdoor screen.
Her gray hair was braided, a pair of plain glasses softening her features into something scholarly and composed.
It was Talia, carefully disguised.
Once cold as frost, she now carried a faint air of loneliness—like a solitary literary girl.
She looked nothing like the famed poet she resembled; under the dim midnight light, no one could possibly connect her to that figure.
Holding a box of roasted chicken glazed with fragrant sauce, she took slow bites, savoring the warmth as if forgetting her exhaustion.
Just minutes earlier, she had tossed restlessly in bed, unable to sleep after recalling the Shadow World she’d witnessed that afternoon. Hunger had finally pushed her out to the academy square.
But what puzzled her—
The academy was far livelier than she had imagined.
“Awesome!”
Cheering and discussion erupted again from the square, like an audience watching a championship match.
“What could be so exciting…? Isn’t it just that guy Lan Qi, taking his exams and classes?”
Talia muttered to herself in confusion.