Lanqi Doesn't Like People Sitting in His Seat

After spending a day living as a student, Hyperion had completely adapted to life at Purgatory Corridor Academy. Back then, Lanqi had dreamed of staying a bit longer in Purgatory Corridor Academy. Now she was truly experiencing it for herself. At this moment, she was seated in the back row of a classroom as spacious as a theater auditorium. In the dim space, a few rustic oil lamps cast faint glows, serving as the scarce sources of light. That golden lamplight pulsed with a rhythmic vitality, waxing and waning in constant flickers. Desks and chairs cast long, twisted shadows in the dancing glow, intertwining with the swaying silhouettes around them, rustling softly in the dark. *Back to where the dream began...* Hyperion thought, sitting in the classroom. The scene before her truly resembled a classroom—neat rows of long desks covered with crimson tablecloths, a brand-new blackboard of dark gold standing tall on the podium ahead, and window frames with intricate carvings exuding an antique Demon Realm charm. Yet this space of roughly three hundred square meters, which should have felt open and roomy, strangely had all sense of spaciousness swallowed up by its atmosphere. The students took all kinds of grotesque forms, each stranger than the last, without exception bearing indescribable features. Most had metallic-looking horns sprouting from their heads and strange exoskeletons carved with eerie patterns covering their skin. Two demons who appeared to be invigilators paced up and down the aisles, their steps unhurried, their deportment elegant and proper, clad in classical attire—yet in this setting, their presence felt exceptionally eerie and terrifying, like emissaries from the depths of hell. A dense stench of blood that had no business being in a classroom lingered persistently; there was no telling how many students had already perished during this exam week. To this day, Hyperion still could not fathom how Lanqi had managed to blend seamlessly into this academy's atmosphere in the blink of an eye. Lowering her gaze, Hyperion looked at the red tablecloth before her, where an ancient parchment of rough texture lay quietly beside a bottle of magical ink and a quill. The parchment bore inscriptions in scripts Tata had taught her. This was the exam paper she had to tackle next, and it was tied directly to demonic magic. [Subject: Demon Magic Script] [Any form of cheating during the exam, once discovered by an invigilator, grants the invigilator the authority to eliminate the candidate.] [Upon the conclusion of the exam, if a score is determined to be below 50, it is deemed a failure, and the invigilator will immediately execute elimination.] [Early submission is permitted. For any needs, raise your hand to request the invigilator's assistance.] [Time Remaining: 1 Hour 59 Minutes] The exam notices printed across the red tablecloth on the desk stood out sharply in the dim light—a deep, rich crimson, absurd yet strangely artistic. Hyperion's amber eyes sharply surveyed the classroom, faint flickers of firelight dancing in her pupils. Not a single student intended to cheat anymore. The academy culture had turned out just as Lanqi had wished. Back when she and Lanqi had been abruptly brought into this Shadow World, both of them had transformed from humans into demon forms. From her perspective, Lanqi's appearance hadn't changed much—he had merely become a Radiant Demon. Meanwhile, she had felt stripped of the human disguise she wore in the mortal world, caught off guard as she reverted to her true half-demon self. She had nearly wanted to die of shame back then. She had been terrified that if Lanqi saw the half-demon traits she had kept hidden, he would come to despise her. Fortunately, the other challengers in that Shadow World were given demon disguises to fit the premise, while she alone had had hers stripped away. Thus, at first glance, Lanqi thought she had simply been given a disguise like everyone else and hadn't realized she was an actual half-demon. Near the end of the Purgatory Corridor Academy Shadow World, when a dying cultist suddenly blurted out her secret to Lanqi, she had felt as though her entire world had ended. What she hadn't expected was that Lanqi actually thought she was cool. Perhaps it was from that very moment that her heart had begun to flutter faintly. She just hadn't realized it back then... "What are you smiling about?" The low voice of an invigilating demon passing by startled Hyperion. She quickly looked up and shook her head innocently. She hadn't even realized that, thinking of Lanqi while staring at the paper, a silly smile had involuntarily formed on her lips. "Stop thinking about your boyfriend during an exam. Focus on your paper," the invigilator cautioned as if reading her mind, before moving along. "..." In the exam hall, she couldn't argue with the proctor; the words caught in her throat. Hyperion was certain the school truly had changed. So Hyperion lowered her head for the moment, gazing at the items before her on the desk. At the top of the parchment exam paper was the academy crest—a hideous demonic head engraved with two eyes burning like flames, resembling a gaze from another world. Beside it sat an ink bottle forged from magic crystal, its rim inlaid with mithril and its interior filled with ink as black as night, resting motionless as though imbued with heavy magic frozen in place. The quill's feather was dark as charcoal, its blade-sharp nib gleaming with a cold metallic sheen, the shaft reflecting a faint, deep-red glow. All of it constituted a vintage set of tools for crafting magic scrolls. In an exam on Demon Magic Script, answering was not merely writing, but an act of engraving comparable to crafting a magic scroll. Hyperion skimmed through all the questions. *Why is this almost the same as the exam thirty years ago?* she thought to herself. In the past, she had been completely helpless before this test, relying entirely on Lanqi beside her to save her. But now, she genuinely knew how to do it. Until she saw the final, crowning question. [Question 10 (15 points): Please write out the magic formula that can be used when processing rare materials to achieve the following respective effects:] [1. Slightly harden or soften a magical beast's fur] [2. Cause a magical beast to rapidly shed sharp hair] [3. Alter the color of a magical beast's coat] Even for a crowning question that the examiners hardly expected students to answer, she actually knew the solution. After all, she carried a certain magic card on her. [Elegant Styling] [Category: Spell Card] [Grade: Pink Sacred] [Element: Alchemy / Poison] [Tier: 4] [Effect: Can only be used on a target touched. Modifies hairstyle, can shed hair, change its color, and slightly harden or soften it.] [Remark: This hairstyle doesn't suit you. Let me fix it for you.] All she had to do was copy the formula principles directly from the magic card. Even though she had never used this card and never wanted to use it, Lanqi had gifted it to her, so she had always kept it safely with her. Furthermore, since it had been compiled in neat, orderly formatting by the great demon Talia, Hyperion felt the standard answer key might not even be as good as what she wrote. Who would have thought that one day it would actually come in handy? Hyperion buried her head and began writing. Even though Lanqi wasn't by her side, it felt as though he was always with her, protecting her. Reliving her days as a student in Purgatory Corridor, Hyperion had a brand-new experience. A few questions were ones she already knew, and several others covered knowledge tutored by her two "mothers," Talia and the Ice Witch. Answering them felt remarkably easy. She even felt tempted to append a comment at the end of her solution about whether the question was well-designed and how it should have been phrased. It seemed riding the baby bus for more than a year hadn't left her completely without growth. In this school, having ample credit coins meant living very comfortably; one could even spend some time relaxing in the Demon King's Bestowed Restaurant in the lounge area. Finishing her paper ahead of time, Hyperion rested her head on her arms for a light nap. Over these past few days, it was rare for her to feel completely at peace. As long as she finished the test and ensured she passed, this was the safest place possible; all she had to do was wait for the exam to end. The little gray cat that Tamisha had transformed into stayed motionless inside her clothes. Even if Tamisha still wasn't affectionate toward her, she knew when to behave. After all, the two of them had depended on each other to survive for several days now. "Lanqi... I miss you so much..." Hyperion murmured soundlessly, voicing what was in her heart. Only now did she realize that academy life without Lanqi was terribly dull and flavorless. After an unknown amount of time... Suddenly, an ear-splitting alarm shattered the heavy silence of the exam hall. Accompanied by a voice echoing through the corridors, it blanketed every corner. [Emergency Notice: Attention all personnel of Purgatory Corridor Academy. Due to exceptional circumstances, all ongoing teaching activities are to cease immediately. All faculty and students are forbidden from leaving their classrooms and must submit to inspection by the Demon King's Army Special Service Unit. If anyone moves without authorization, all teachers must report them immediately and assist with full force in their apprehension.] The voice in the corridor was cold, harsh, and brooked no argument—a command issuing from the deepest depths of hell. The exam hall erupted into an instant commotion. Murmurs and hushed chatter rose in waves, but they were swiftly silenced by a piercing glare from the invigilator. "Silence! All examinees remain in your seats, do not move!" The invigilator's voice cracked like a whip across the nerves of every demon examinee. Hyperion sensed the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Without making a scene, she secretly glanced around at the demon examinees. Panic and unease flickered in their eyes; fine beads of cold sweat broke out on their foreheads, and their hands and feet trembled involuntarily. She also put on a subtle expression of bewilderment, blending seamlessly into the students' demeanor. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hide. If things went south in a moment, she could just flee again. Two Tier 5 invigilators had no hope of noticing her vanishing into thin air. However, constantly switching identities while being searched and cornered in the maze of Purgatory Corridor meant she would be caught sooner or later; the exits of Purgatory Corridor Academy were undoubtedly sealed by now. *Still, don't panic. This is my home turf. Even if a Tier 8 wants to play hide-and-seek with me in these corridors, it won't be easy to catch me quickly,* Hyperion told herself. The minutes and seconds ticked by. The silence in the exam hall grew increasingly suffocating for the demon examinees. Suddenly, the classroom door was violently pushed open. Several demon officers clad in black military greatcoats filed in, radiating a biting chill of magical power, their eyes as cold as dagger edges. The lead officer said nothing, walking straight up to the invigilator and murmuring a few words in a low voice. The invigilator's expression instantly turned into stark astonishment. He nodded heavily, then turned to face the entire classroom. And by this point, not even the invigilator had noticed that the young female examinee in one of the seats had completely vanished without a trace. *** The top floor of Purgatory Corridor Academy. With a gentle pull, the heavy oak door let out a low creak, a sound softened by years of use, before swinging shut on its own. "Princess... didn't expect me to come in person, did you? I must truly love you to travel all the way from the Demon King's Castle just for you," Melogas, Lord of Blasphemy, said with a smile as she pushed through the heavy oak door into the historic office. Her arrival brought a sinister chill that dropped the temperature of the entire room by several degrees. Lysandra followed tremblingly behind Melogas, her face as pale as paper, her eyes filled with reverent dread. As a young and weak demon secretary, she instinctively felt the terrifying aura radiating from this great demon before her. This was the Headmaster's Office of Purgatory Corridor Academy. Beneath the high ceiling, an antique chandelier cast a soft glow across the dark-brown wooden floor. Opposite the marble fireplace sat a comfortable office swivel chair and a wide brown-wood desk, where the cover of a magic book lay faded by time, its edges slightly curled. Beyond the large wood-framed windows, the starlight of the Demon Realm poured into the room, overlapping with the lamplight into a lattice of soft luminescence. Beside a square tea table near the window stood a plush woven armchair, giving off a rather leisurely air suitable for retirement. This ward-protected room would not hinder or harm students, though physically unlocking or pushing it open was exceedingly difficult. "So this is the Headmaster's Office?" Melogas swept her gaze across the office, checking every corner, before her eyes finally settled on the overly conspicuous swimming pool. Before arriving, she hadn't expected the Headmaster's Office to be so spacious, much less contain a swimming pool. "Yes, Lord of Blasphemy. This is the seat of supreme authority in our academy. Only here is fitting for you to rest and wait," Lysandra nodded hurriedly, her voice as faint as a mosquito's hum. To stall Melogas and buy time for the princess to hide, Lysandra had already led Melogas in several extra circles around the corridors. "What a boring place," Melogas snorted coldly. She strolled toward the wide brown-wood desk, running her slender fingers lightly over its surface as if feeling the traces of time. Picking up the worn magic book on the desk, she flipped through a few pages and casually tossed it aside. "You are quite right." Lysandra's heart was practically leaping into her throat. Not daring to follow up, she could only keep her head lowered, letting Melogas inspect the Headmaster's Office as she pleased. "Still, this swimming pool is rather interesting." Melogas walked over to the window, the starlight of the Demon Realm falling across her pale face, reflecting a sickly beauty. She leaned against the side with keen interest, gazing at the pool. *Do they actually let students come to the Headmaster's Office to swim on ordinary days? How wild.* The Lord of Blasphemy was somewhat curious about who had decided to build this pool. Perhaps she would really take a liking to such a lunatic. "I heard it was the work of the former Radiant Demon Acting Headmaster—the first counterfeit headmaster in the history of Purgatory Corridor Academy. Yet he was loved and supported by many demons, so much so that to commemorate his contributions, the academy placed his portrait in the hallways..." Lysandra scrambled to keep the conversation going. "Why did you lead me in extra circles earlier?" Melogas, Lord of Blasphemy, suddenly asked, cutting off Lysandra's narration. "L-Lord of Blasphemy, I have only worked here for a few years, and I often take the wrong path... I am truly very sorry!" Lysandra's body shuddered as she stammered her response. "Is that so... I also heard that your relationship with Princess Hyperion is quite good." Melogas nodded with satisfaction, her hazy purple eyes staring straight at Lysandra as if peering through her soul. She deliberately trailed off, as if toying with Lysandra. "Her Highness and I lost contact many years ago." Lysandra felt a chill crawl up her spine. Shivering, she lowered her head, not daring to meet Melogas's gaze. She used every ounce of willpower to stabilize her mind, which was on the verge of collapsing under the demonic voice, holding back her tears. The instant she saw the Lord of Blasphemy's expression, Lysandra basically understood. The Lord of Blasphemy knew everything. She simply found it amusing to toy with her and slowly savor her terror. "Very well. You truly are a strong and kind child, unwilling to betray the princess even under these circumstances." Melogas smiled with satisfaction. She sat gracefully down in the plush headmaster's seat, the scorpion tail behind her swaying lightly, as if enjoying Lysandra's pathetic state. "Rest assured, I won't kill you. You are the princess's friend, after all; I'm sure the princess would love to bring you back to the Demon King's Castle." Settling into the chair, Melogas rested one hand on the armrest. "Now, pour me a cup of tea," she ordered, her tone carrying indisputable authority. "Yes..." Lysandra hurried to the tea table, her legs trembling so badly her hands could barely hold the teapot steady. Carefully, she poured a steaming cup of Pasqual black tea for Melogas, then presented it with trembling hands. Melogas took the teacup, took a sip, and shifted her gaze from the Demon Realm night sky outside the window to Lysandra's cheek. "If I break you completely and let Hyperion see you stripped of every shred of sanity, what kind of expression will she make?" She slowly reached out, brushing her fingers against Lysandra's cheek, a warm smile curving on her lips. "..." Lysandra stood frozen, not daring to make a sound or move. Tears finally spilled from her eyes. "How about this: if you willingly obey my requests, for every moment you hold out without losing your will, I will delay going in person to find the princess a little longer. How does that sound?" The Lord of Blasphemy slowly moved her hand downward toward the buttons of Lysandra's clothes. "A-All right..." Lysandra's lips trembled as she agreed to the Lord of Blasphemy's terms. She knew something horrifying was about to happen today. Yet for the sake of the promise she had made to the princess, she could only stand there in silence, allowing the Lord of Blasphemy to manipulate her and endure this great demon's depraved desires, her heart overflowing with despair and helplessness. Just as Lysandra's heart was turning entirely to ash... *Creak.* The door to the Headmaster's Office was pushed open. Melogas's hand halted, and she looked up in bewilderment at the fellow who had the sheer audacity to intrude upon the Headmaster's Office at a time like this. His attire was bizarre: a black winter overcoat over formal wear, with a silver-white mask tucked at his waist—who knew what regional custom that was. His race was Phantom Demon; just like Caliera, he was born with pale silver-white hair and an enchanting, illusionary magic aura. That silver-white mask clearly did not belong to the aesthetic of the Demon Realm; even seen from the side, it looked more like the religious style of the humans—gentle lines, a serene expression, with an air of compassionate benevolence radiating between the brows. *Is he going to a masquerade ball?* Melogas couldn't help wondering. If he took that mask from his waist and put it on, he could blend seamlessly into a Demon Realm masquerade ball without the slightest discordance. What was more, Melogas felt a faint sense of déjà vu from that mask, though she couldn't quite recall where she had seen it before. "...!" The moment Lysandra saw the newcomer, relief washed over her, as though she had found her savior. This headmaster gave off a vibe so remarkably similar to Caliera that he seemed practically like Caliera's relative. He was obviously the new demon headmaster appointed by Caliera! However, the bad news was that Melogas, Lord of Blasphemy, was present. There was no telling whether this Phantom Demon would be willing to stand up for her and interfere with the Lord of Blasphemy's amusement. *Knock, knock.* Lanqi rapped his knuckles against the door of the Headmaster's Office, signaling the two demon ladies inside to turn their attention toward him. He looked slightly surprised, not understanding why there were two demons in his office. "Miss, that seat doesn't belong to you. Would you mind shifting over?" Lanqi pointed his finger toward the headmaster's seat, addressing Melogas, Lord of Blasphemy.