Teacher Vida waved her wand, and the dust within the testing grounds surged as the terrain began to reshape itself.
This time, the sandbox had transformed into a chaotic jumble of scaffolding and abandoned buildings. Shattered walls, broken floorboards, and obstacles of varying shapes formed the foundation of the course. Because they were simulated from sand, everything was a uniform, unpainted gray, resembling a collection of unfinished model kits.
At the center of the arena, a massive black-and-red orb of light pulsed, radiating intense “light pollution” in every direction while emitting a jarring, monotonous drone. While the effects weren’t overwhelming, the range was vast, ensuring that every candidate would be constantly affected.
Vida announced the rules: candidates had to navigate through the “Shattered Grounds” and reach the finish line within a set time. Points would be deducted for exceeding the time limit or being touched by the light. Furthermore, high walls were erected around the perimeter this time, preventing students from studying the “exam paper” beforehand.
Wang Yue thought it over. So, it’s basically a penalty for time and a penalty for taking damage?
This second test was effectively a video game level.
Based on what she had glimpsed before the walls rose, candidates needed to dodge and weave through narrow spaces, using the geometry of the buildings to shield themselves from the light. Therefore, the primary requirements were agility and speed.
She dispersed Bastet’s divine power, returning to her original form. The leopard form and its Herculean strength weren’t suited for this stage; a smaller, more compact body would be far more effective.
Just then, Lilith strolled over. She was a beautiful queen—elegant in posture and light of foot, boasting a slender yet powerful waist and exceptionally long legs.
Wang Yue glanced down at her own slightly pudgy frame and had to admit that the other girl had a better physique. One was a sleek wildcat; the other was a pampered house cat.
“Look at how chubby you are. You’re going to lose a lot of points this round,” Lilith said, looking like victory was already in her grasp.
“It’s a pity the maximum score is only a hundred,” Wang Yue retorted, never one to lose in a war of words. “Otherwise, I would have left you in the dust during the first round.”
“Oh? It seems you only have that one transformation,” Lilith chuckled, covering her mouth. “You’re doomed. The next two tests are all about technique and agility.”
“Heh, you’re just as annoying as always,” Wang Yue remarked. She felt like she was finally getting the hang of how girls bickered with each other.
“The feeling is mutual.” Lilith’s eyes darted around before she added, “How about this? If you lose, give Prima back to me.”
“Huh? What? I can’t hear you.”
Lilith grit her teeth and stomped away.
Wang Yue turned her thoughts back to the task. Lilith wasn’t entirely wrong; the remaining tests emphasized speed and reflexes. Her Mystic Art, Puppet, allowed her to control her body with absolute precision, but she didn’t plan on using it. Using a Mystic Art to force the body into violent, high-speed movements carried a high risk of injury. It wasn’t worth hurting herself over a minor quiz.
The students entered the arena in sequence, with tests being conducted in six different sandboxes simultaneously. When they emerged from the exit, their expressions ranged from joy to despair.
Wang Yue analyzed the situation. With the walls blocking their view, they couldn’t pre-plan their route. Everything relied on their ability to react on the fly. Looking at the completion times, the fastest took twenty seconds while the slowest took over a minute. This meant a “speedrun” was required. The margin for error was likely razor-thin, and while the exact time needed for a perfect score was unknown, faster was clearly better.
Finally, it was Wang Yue’s turn!
She stepped into the arena. Before her lay an upward ramp. It seemed she needed to follow the ramp to the second floor, navigate the thin steel pipes and wooden planks of the scaffolding, enter the ruined building, and finally exit through a ramp on the far side.
If she simply dashed through, it would be effortless for a cat—felines were biologically engineered for this kind of movement. The problem was the black-and-red orb. It radiated constant light pollution that not only warped the mind and affected perception but also drained points upon contact.
To pass, she had to endure the Mental Pollution while using the shadows of the obstacles to hide from the light. It felt a bit like a level out of a stealth platformer.
There was no more time for thought. The short wall in front of her crumbled into dust. The test had begun!
Wang Yue shot forward like an arrow. She blurred across the ramp and, at the very end, leaped three or four meters into the air. Light as a swallow, she landed perfectly on a narrow steel pipe. Of course, the “pipe,” the “planks,” and the “walls” were all just simulated sand.
She sprang from the pipe as a pillar flashed past. Then, staying within the shadows, she tumbled, leaped, and dodged like a ninja. At times, she stood upright like a human, dancing on her tiptoes to slide through narrow gaps like a credit card swiping through a reader. At others, she flattened herself out like a sheet of silk, hugging the ground to slip under low barriers. She moved like water, flowing over jagged debris and strange geometric corners.
A cat was a creature of liquid grace.
The level of Mental Pollution present had no effect on Wang Yue. She practiced her mental cultivation diligently every day, far exceeding the pace of the curriculum. This was the perfect moment to test her results.
In a mere fifty meters, she exhausted her repertoire of movements and successfully crossed the finish line. However, despite completing the course, her expression was grim. She wasn’t satisfied with her performance.
She hadn’t achieved the “seamless” flow she wanted. There had been moments of hesitation and friction. It felt like playing a rhythm game where one small slip-up throws off your timing; even if you survive through sheer luck, the lack of perfection feels like a loss.
Sure enough, the scoreboard flickered. Two points deducted. She didn’t even know where she had lost them, though she suspected it was a momentary exposure to the light.
“Only a 98?”
Wang Yue walked out of the arena, feeling dejected, only to hear gasps from the neighboring sandbox.
“Another perfect score!”
“Is Lilith really that strong?”
“How did she even do that?”
The chatter was brief. Due to her personality, Lilith wasn’t popular within her own class, but she had a massive following across the entire grade. Her grades were stellar, she was a beauty, and she was even starring in the school play—every aspect of her life seemed to sparkle. Since most of her fans weren’t in her class, they didn’t know her true temperament and did their best to defend her from any negative rumors.
“Mistress, you’re amazing! 98 points!” Dorothy rushed over, her eyes sparkling.
“What about you?” Wang Yue asked casually.
“I… I fell off the scaffolding…”
“…”
“Waaaaah! Do you know how I felt? The light hit me, and my score just started plummeting! I ran back and tried to start over, and guess what? I was already at zero!”
Wang Yue offered a few words of comfort. It was like falling into a pit in a platformer—accidents happened.
Despite her 98, she couldn’t bring herself to be happy. The cold reality was that she had lost the initiative. No matter how well she did in the final test, as long as Lilith got a perfect score, Wang Yue would lose the bet.
The next test was “Tracking,” which would once again test agility. It seemed her leopard form would remain benched. Furthermore, today was the first time she had called upon Bastet; her mastery of divine power was still in its infancy, and she hadn’t yet figured out how to use it to buff her agility.
In her daze, Lilith approached her.
“You’re going to lose! Hahaha!” Lilith let out a series of cat-like laughs.
Wait, can cats actually laugh out loud? The random thought flickered through Wang Yue’s mind.
“So? Little loser, do you want some Dried Fish? I bet you do! Just trade me Prima for them!” Lilith said smugly.
“Hmm? Why are you so obsessed with Prima? Is it possible that you…” Wang Yue smelled something fishy—and it wasn’t the snack.
“What are you thinking?!” Lilith’s fur stood on end, and her back arched in an intense reaction. “I’m just annoyed that you stole my roommate!”
“Oh, so that’s it. You’re just vindictive.”
“Are we trading or not?!” Lilith growled, clearly agitated.
“Ahem. Lilith, that’s not for us to decide. The power to change dorm assignments lies solely with the Housemother.”
“Tch.” Lilith turned and stalked away.
