Ephise Academy was the finest institution in the entire Demon Race—a fact embraced by every Demon without exception.
It had produced countless elites over the years: great generals and marshals, renowned curse masters and palace maids, even the Demon King herself…
For an ordinary Demon, gaining admission to Ephise Academy was one of the most joyous milestones in life. Graduating from it with flying colors would bring honor to one’s ancestors at the very least, and those who truly excelled might even etch their names into the annals of history as legendary powerhouses.
Yet Xuefei couldn’t shake the feeling that these competitors were somewhat underwhelming.
Mortal Tier 8th Layer, Soul Tier Layer 1, Soul Tier Layer 2, Soul Tier Layer 4…
Their strength boiled down to cold, hard numbers, devoid of any real fighting spirit.
The tournament had dragged on for two full days, and Xuefei hadn’t encountered a single opponent capable of trading more than a few blows with her—just as Isabella had predicted. A cultivator’s soul tier and physical might didn’t always equate to true combat prowess.
The matches had fallen into a predictable routine by now.
The crowd would cheer, the referee would declare the start, her opponent would spout some tough talk, she’d send them flying, and the referee would call it over. It was so perfunctory that Xuefei felt like she was just going through the motions, with none of the fights carrying even a hint of tension.
Before long, the name “Tilly” had spread throughout Ephise Academy, earning her a reputation as a rising “challenger.”
Why “challenger,” you ask?
Because to everyone else, the champion was already a foregone conclusion. As for her? She’d been pegged as the “most likely to dethrone the champion.”
Not that Xuefei considered that so-called champion any real threat.
The tournament wasn’t perfectly fair, but at least its rules were easier to grasp than that “Swiss Round” format she’d seen before. With no other choice, Xuefei threw herself into every bout, only returning home at night to spend time with Tilly and Leia. This routine was starting to grate on her nerves a bit.
As a result, her opponents suffered all the more.
Each fight rarely lasted more than a few seconds. Xuefei would dispatch her foe in a flash, race home to tend her egg, then hurry back just in time for the next match to one-shot the subsequent challenger.
Her next opponent was named Bailan.
She was an undead.
As the name implied, undead were the souls of the departed who hadn’t returned to the Soul Stream. Instead, they were preserved by Dark Filth’s magic in the likeness of their former selves, though their bodies now differed greatly from their human days. This particular undead young lady had skin as pale as if she’d been preserved in ice for centuries, yet she boasted an alluring figure. She wore a crisp uniform, her short skirt paired perfectly with white stockings that accentuated her impossibly fair, silken skin.
She wasn’t some withered zombie oozing ominous black miasma—at least, she bore little resemblance to the undead Xuefei had hunted before.
And her power was noticeably greater.
“Um, h-hello. I’m Bailan. That… um, big sis, could you go easy on me? It’s totally fine if I just forfeit right away!”
“A Soul Tier Layer 4 powerhouse like you—why the lack of confidence?”
Xuefei narrowed her eyes.
This girl was genuinely strong.
The medal on her arm suggested she belonged to one of the academy’s prestigious organizations, or perhaps held a key position in some department. At any rate, she was no pushover. Soul Tier Layer 4 was a realm most humans could never hope to reach.
“B-But… you’ve already eliminated so many Soul Tier Layer 4s. I’m not… I’m not as strong as they were. I…”
Bailan’s hands fidgeted restlessly, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground. She grew visibly tense whenever Xuefei spoke, lost in whatever bizarre thoughts swirled in her head.
Xuefei was utterly baffled.
If she couldn’t win, why not just surrender cleanly? What was with all the hemming and hawing?
Her cheeks were even flushing pink.
With the match countdown yet to begin, the ghostly girl bowed her head and blinked furiously, mustering the courage to voice her inner turmoil.
“Y-You’re… so cute. C-Could we… date?”
“Rejected!”
Xuefei was all about rejecting friend requests from the get-go.
“W-Well then… could we at least be friends?” Bailan ventured timidly, stealing glances at Xuefei’s face before quickly averting her eyes once more. She looked every bit the bashful schoolgirl.
And yet, she towered over Xuefei.
At least 170 centimeters tall—173, if you counted the skull ornament perched atop her head.
“If fate brings us together.”
Xuefei nodded, though she had no intention of following through.
She was only here to give that supposed “champion” a lesson. Ephise Academy was something for her daughter to experience firsthand. Tilly shared at least sixty percent of her own traits, after all—who knew if she’d run into someone nursing a grudge over an instant defeat…
However, by the time she reached the age to enroll, she’d probably already be at Super Tier, leaving no room for anyone else to teach her. In the Demon Race’s “might makes right” philosophy, she might even attract a bunch of cute followers.
“Thank you so much~,” Bailan said happily, clenching her fists in excitement. She suddenly hefted a weapon that resembled the Death God’s scythe—a super heavyweight model nearly three hundred centimeters long that felt as light as a feather in her hands.
Xuefei nodded.
“By the way, we haven’t… properly introduced ourselves yet. Miss Tilly, I’m the Necromantic Demon King—the daughter of the Underworld King. If you ever get the chance, you should come visit my home… Ugh, if only I were as strong as everyone else. Then Miss Tilly would definitely take more notice of me, right?”
Bailan twisted her body, slinging the scythe onto her back, and bowed her head.
“Um, sure…”
“Hm?”
Wait—who was she?
The Demon King’s daughter?!
Were all the bigwigs sending their daughters to Ephise Academy these days? No wonder she was at Soul Tier, Layer 4. Simply inheriting that bloodline must have been extraordinary, to say nothing of her daily high-intensity training. Her physical power made it obvious—this girl was a real hard worker…
“Alright, here I come! Please go easy on me!”
The match began.
Bailan’s body suddenly split into two, the massive scythe dividing with it as the pair charged off in different directions.
“A clone,” Xuefei murmured softly.
But at this level of power, no one could summon anything truly impressive.
At best, it was just an illusion.
And illusions always had flaws.
“Bailan, your clone’s running posture looks a little off…”
It defied the laws of physics—the illusory figure was leaning noticeably forward. It was only three degrees, but Xuefei had caught it.
Controlling an illusion with imagination required intense focus.
One slip, and it would vanish.
Without a word, Xuefei lunged for her real body to end this little “game.”
As she closed in on her opponent the way she always did, something felt off.
She reacted in an instant, eyes flying wide—but she was one step too late…
“As expected, Sister Tilly is so strong!! That’s why this trick only works on you.”
“I see,” Xuefei said with a laugh, inwardly acknowledging the Necromantic girl.
The “obvious” flaw she’d spotted had been deliberately conjured by magic. Bailan’s true body had simply used a special spell to appear unreasonable. And it had landed because of her precise read on Xuefei’s strength—building right on top of what seemed “obvious” to her.
Sure, it carried a hint of looking down on Ephise Academy, but it was still a sharp judgment.
This was the quarterfinals—and her first opponent to pose even a slight challenge.
