I Swear I'm Not a Demon Masquerading as a Human

While the third test of the entrance exam was underway, the faculty had gathered for a meeting in a conference room on the top floor in the main building of the Sages’ College. Aside from the gargantuan magical screen at the center, the room featured minimalist white walls that blended seamlessly with the polished marble flooring.

On the screen, they were watching a live feed of the first test session, which featured Lance and Hyperion as the examinees and Ferrat as the examiner.

"Talk about bad luck..."

"Surely those two examinees aren't planning to fight Ferrat head-on?"

The teachers in the room either remained silent or exchanged occasional, brief remarks.

Passing the Canyon of Infinite Phantoms exam scenario required not getting captured for a full thirty minutes. If the examinees were unable to do that, their only remaining option was to confront the examiner directly.

Occasionally, confident and powerful candidates would indeed choose to confront the examiner. A full team of Rank 3 examinees could stand a chance of stalling an examiner who was restricted to Rank 4.

However, every teacher in that room knew the truth. Ferrat Chavenson was formidable and powerful, a front line mage known for his cautious nature and ruthless efficiency. Even without using enchanted cards, he had a vast array of powerful spells and was easily capable of defeating regular army officers of the kingdom who were at the same rank.

Setting rank aside entirely, Ferrat’s years of extensive combat experience alone were enough to utterly crush two incoming freshmen, not to mention he was currently permitted to unleash power equivalent to an expert at Rank 5. They simply were not in the same league.

Associate Dean Ron put his chin in one hand as he silently watched the projection on the magical screen. He knew that this entrance exam touched upon the interests of certain high-ranking people within the kingdom.

An invisible force was also influencing the proceedings, aiming to prevent Hyperion from enrolling. Those people had leveraged Lance to ramp up the difficulty, which was still within the rules. The only remaining variable that could disrupt their plans was the boy’s unconventional way of thinking.

Yet, the open plains terrain had effectively eliminated any room for such trickery. Ron couldn't say for certain whether this was mere coincidence or not. All that could be said was that, from the moment these two examinees crossed paths, their luck had been abysmal.

However, challenging the Shadow Realm also required luck. For those whom fortune did not favor, survival was a struggle, regardless of one's abilities.

***

Across the boundless expanse of the grasslands, dewdrops clung to the tips of the grass, crystal-clear and sparkling like scattered gems. A sudden, violent gust of wind swept down from high above, causing them to tremble and scatter like shattered, transparent jewels.

The Rank 5 examiner was also capable of flight by using Tier 5 wind magic. Lance and Hyperion could already spot a dark, speck-like silhouette in the distant sky that was rapidly closing the distance between them.

Hyperion asked, "Do you have a strategy in mind?"

Lance’s continued composure baffled her. However, she felt that no amount of cleverness on his part would make a difference in a situation as dire as this.

Lance shook his head. "Nope. What kind of tactics can you even use on an open plain?"

When the examiner himself was willing to stoop so low as to abandon all pretense of fairness, what else could he do? It was a choice between a hellish chase across the plains or fighting desperately head on.

Lance looked at the young lady beside him. "Do you know anything about the examiner?"

He had noticed Hyperion’s reaction when Theresa mentioned the examiner's name, Ferrat Chavenson. After all, she was from the capital and intimately familiar with the tangled web of noble factions and prominent figures there.

Hyperion nodded. She gritted her teeth as she recounted what she knew about Ferrat, revealing an immense, deep-seated hatred.

"Viscount Ferrat Chavenson is a despicable, cautious little man who bullies the weak while cowering before the strong. He’s a lackey for the faction hostile to the Aransar family. Ever since my father went missing, they’ve been relentless in their pursuit of me. While he has mastered many spells himself, he relies heavily on sheer magical power and specific combinations of enchanted cards in combat."

Lance nodded as he gazed at Ferrat, who was hurtling toward them through the air, and murmured, "Sounds about right. Looks like he’s the type to be a sore loser."

In the brief span of their conversation, Ferrat had visibly drawn much closer to their location. The speed of a mage flying via wind magic far outstripped that of anyone running on the ground.

To confirm one last thing, Lance asked, "Do you have a way to stall and keep yourself safe?"

While survival-oriented enchanted cards were rare, it was quite possible that Hyperion, as a duke's daughter, possessed one. His teammate hesitated slightly before admitting, "I can keep myself safe, though I'm not sure for how long."

"Then trust me."

"Our compatibility is terrible. Your healing magic is useless to me."

"Don't worry about it. After today, aside from compatibility, you'll realize I'm the best support-type mage you've ever met."

It was like those final moments of preparation before the actual exam began. Barely a few seconds had passed since their casual exchange when Ferrat halted in mid-air, some distance away from them. He transitioned abruptly into a dead stop, advancing no further.

This distance was already close enough for him to unleash a high-output spell and obliterate them both. He then looked down from the air and remained silent, seemingly assessing their condition. They appeared far more at ease than he had anticipated.

Ferrat raised his hand slightly, pointing at Lance, who stood behind Hyperion. "Hey you! You can withdraw from the exam now."

His tone was low and commanding, as if he expected no argument.

Yet, Hyperion’s eyes were filled with wariness as she planted herself even more firmly in front of Lance, standing in front like a vanguard. From this angle, it would be far more difficult for him to take Lance out in a single strike.

On the other hand, Lance looked up and asked, genuinely puzzled, “Why should I withdraw from the exam?”

Ferrat tapped his index finger against the air, finding Lance, an irrelevant outsider, to be a nuisance. He had intended to convey the wishes of his superiors to Hyperion in private. Unfortunately, there was a pesky little black mouse standing in the way first.

“Did she promise you money, status, or something else?” Ferrat asked condescendingly, his tone laced with mockery. From his perspective, any reward a precarious and unprotected lady from the declining Aransar family could offer was nothing more than an empty promise.

Unless... The foolish lad could have been seduced by Hyperion’s beauty and was helping her for that reason. But once he truly discovered what kind of creature she actually was, he would likely be scared out of his wits.

“Heh.” Lance chuckled as if he had just heard an absurd question.

He took a deep breath, his gaze hardening slightly as he stared at Ferrat and said, "According to the exam rules, she is my teammate. Furthermore, Article 13 explicitly states that I must fight in concert with my teammate. As an examiner, did you not even bother to read the regulations before coming here?"

His tone was like that of a superior finding fault with something and reprimanding his subordinate.

Ferrat’s jaw dropped as he hovered in midair.

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