Every light within the theater seemed to be infused with life. The moment the music ceased, beams of radiance filled the hall, soft golden light flowing over the black marble floor like a murmuring stream in the darkness of night.
At the back rows of the audience—
“I thought this classroom was testing art. But it turns out what it really tests is the art of destruction.
And destruction itself… is also a form of art.”
Lan Qi exhaled, his voice tinged with a sense of release, as though some unseen restraint had been lifted.
He was already smiling with confidence now, as if he could hardly wait to step onto the stage and show off a bit to his classmates.
“…”
Huperion turned to observe Lan Qi’s state, feeling a lump in her throat.
It seemed once again that he was gaining something from this Demon Academy.
Others might have come to challenge the Shadow World—But Lan Qi was truly here to study.
By all logic, Lan Qi’s wholehearted devotion to life should be praiseworthy, and yet… she couldn’t quite put her finger on why something about it felt off.
“Protect yourself in a moment.”
As Lan Qi rose and passed by her, he left these words behind, then strode up the red-carpeted steps toward the stage.
“Alright.”
Huperion responded.
With her repertoire of spells, this exam didn’t suit her.
But Lan Qi, as a jack-of-all-trades support type—
the stranger the situation, the more reassuring his spell library became.
In theory, Lan Qi would perform first. Once he passed, the two of them could then temporarily exchange purple-tier or lower magic cards in the audience seats, reorganizing spell libraries so that Huperion could also pass.
The examination had already passed its halfway point.
The atmosphere of the classroom was heavy with silence and anticipation. Those confident in their ability had already performed.
The ones left were either weaker students—or the true finales.
Thus, in the last few performances, there was always a pause before another demon student dared step forward.
This time, when the host-teacher saw Lan Qi promptly rise and raise his hand to register, a satisfied smile spread across his face.
His unhurried footsteps echoed through the theater.
In no time, Lan Qi had reached the stage. Under the stage lights, his figure stood out strikingly, his presence fusing seamlessly into the performance space, drawing all gazes upon him.
“Are you ready?”
The host-teacher standing beside Lan Qi asked.
As in any exam hall, before the trial began, students were allowed to raise any legitimate needs or questions. Hence the host-teacher asked first.
If the student had no doubts, then the two-minute performance timer would begin, and the student would have full permission to use any spells on stage.
“Teacher, may I ask—if one could gain the approval of all four music mentors at once, what would the reward be?”
Lan Qi tilted his head slightly, curiosity in his tone.
“In the design of this course, such a situation does not exist.”
The host-teacher looked at him, shaking his head with a smile. That smile carried an unspoken authority.
“But what if it did happen?”
“The handbook didn’t omit this, nor was it hidden. It’s because the four mentors’ judging conditions contain obvious contradictions—making it impossible to satisfy all four at once.”
His voice lowered slightly.
For example, there could never be music both noisy and intoxicating enough to lull the Slumbering Phantom, while at the same time terrifying enough for Diseased Toxin Body, and simultaneously fervent enough for Ghostly Armor.
“In all these years, no student has ever earned recognition from all four mentors, no matter how exceptional.”
He added this line, hoping Lan Qi understood his point—the exam design was beyond question.
“Teacher, I believe I can really do it.”
Lan Qi met his gaze directly.
“If you truly managed it, that would mean our exam design had flaws, and that your musical level had already surpassed our understanding—you’d be overqualified even as a music mentor yourself.”
The host-teacher’s words carried the sharpness of mockery, as if ridiculing Lan Qi’s audacity.
After all, this was a performance being watched by many of the great figures of Demon Realm itself. For a student to repeatedly question the rules on such a stage—was close to undermining the very system.
“If you can win all four mentors’ recognition, then you will be immediately appointed as a faculty member of our music department. Does that satisfy you?”
The host-teacher raised his voice slightly, announcing this toward the audience, then turned back to Lan Qi.
As his words fell, a wave of rustling laughter spread among the audience.
“Teacher, are you certain? And… what if, after the performance, the music mentors no longer have enough rationality to make a judgment?”
“This is the Demon King’s own granted theater, watched over by the Demon Eye, and witnessed by the nobles of the demon world. To go back on one’s word here—
even as the head of this Academy’s music department—I could never afford that.
And if a mentor were unable to judge—for instance, if Mr. Slumbering Phantom fell asleep—I would stand in his place, making judgment according to the standards he reported to the Academy beforehand. On fairness, you need not worry.”
The host-teacher looked toward the hovering Demon Eye at the center of the theater, then handed the microphone to Lan Qi with a faint smile.
“Alright. Do you have any further questions?”
“No problem. We can begin.”
Lan Qi accepted the microphone, adjusted his collar, and walked to the center of the stage.
His gaze had completely transformed—like that of a rising star of the Demon Realm.
Once the timer began, he could use any spell at will.
Without hesitation, Lan Qi cast [Great Poet of Love].
In response to his summons, a gray-haired beauty in a crimson evening gown appeared upon the stage, accompanied by the fragrance of blossoms.
Her eyes opened as if awakening from a dream. Strands of hair and hem of dress swayed gently, like summer’s soft songs or autumn’s whispering winds. In that instant, many demons in the audience lost themselves in her.
The Great Poet’s bright eyes scanned the hall, as if perceiving some hidden truth. Her lips curved with faint regret—or joy. Yet she did not release her soul-shaking voice to influence minds.
Since summoning itself was a form of magic, bringing forth a familiar bound by soul-contract was perfectly valid for the performance.
“You’ll take the lead in singing. It’s time we showed the four mentors and our classmates the fruit of our studies.”
Lan Qi handed the microphone to the Great Poet.
She smiled radiantly, nodding lightly, her eyes glittering with supreme confidence.
Meanwhile, Lan Qi took his place before a demon-instrument shaped like a grand piano. With elegance and calm, he lifted the lid and seated himself.
Far off in the audience—
When Huperion saw the Great Poet holding the microphone, her first instinct was to bolt.
If that thing opened fire with full vocal force—
she dared not even imagine what would happen to the theater!