"So this really is the past," Vael muttered with a small grin as he flew through the sky.
He glanced at the clean streets below, the roaming demons, and the huge castle in front of him.
He rose to the highest he could, almost touching the black barrier.
He stared at it and mused, 'Touching it would alert powerful demons. Better not.'
As he roamed above the streets, he felt a gaze settle on him.
He pivoted and focused black energy into his small eyes, trying to sense the being whose gaze he had felt.
His vision pierced into the castle, crossing many powerful barriers, locking onto the central building.
He focused on the room from which he felt the gaze.
The room was highly luxurious, filled with ornate furniture, trinkets, paintings, and beautiful chandeliers that glowed orange despite it being day.
At the far end sat a majestic golden throne.
And on it sat a black slime—about thirty centimeters wide.
Unlike the multicolored slime—or the blue slime Vael knew—this slime had small stars floating within its body, and a few outside rotating around it. The black slime opened his golden eyes.
They looked like exotic jewelry, emitting bright golden light.
His eyes turned toward Vael, as if sensing his gaze.
"Who is he…? He has so many authorities," the small humanoid muttered, shocked by the black slime's power, "He can definitely spot me."
In the next moment, Vael vanished, returning to his sealed artifact.
Whoosh!
The black slime appeared at the spot where Vael had been a moment before.
"I have never seen that kind of creature. What was it?" the black slime muttered doubtfully in a majestic adult male voice. "Ah… is he one of them… sealed artifacts?"
----
In the classroom…
'Fighting that slime would be bad,' Vael mused. He'd felt best to sleep.
"Slime is just focused on learning some languages… I'll sleep to regain more energy," he muttered, then dozed off.
"Let's start with Dragon Tongue. Dragons have two languages, and both are true languages," Seralyth said sharply, raising two fingers.
Hearing it was Dragon Tongue, many students felt bitter, while a few grinned.
'I've already mastered it,' the intelligent demon with specs mused, a wide grin forming.
Seralyth turned to the board and wrote the two languages:
Silver Urdrak and Crimson Draco.
She tapped Silver Urdrak. "A language used by lesser dragons," she said.
Then she tapped Crimson Draco. "A language used by true dragons."
"Miss Seralyth, why do dragons have only two languages while other races have multiple—like humans who have hundreds of them, and we demons too?" a beautiful rabbit demon lady asked doubtfully from the right corner of the classroom.
"Yeah. One single language would do the job," Slime#47 asked as well, feeling it was troublesome to have so many languages.
The fox instructor replied, "Because dragons are arrogant, prideful creatures. They feel a single language is enough."
She held her chin and continued with a small grin. "Mostly because dragons are lazy. Even Silver Urdrak—the second language—was created because their rivals, the phoenix race, had two languages. Dragons didn't want to be seen as lesser than those phoenix."
"I see," the class nodded.
Seralyth glanced at the mentally tired students and announced, "I'll give you five minutes. Meditate. No dozing off, no losing focus."
She pulled out a potion from thin air—a flask the size of an adult human palm, filled with light-green liquid.
She hurled it at Young Slime, and he caught it.
The fox instructor snapped her fingers.
Whoosh!
Every student caught the same potion as it fell from thin air near their hands.
"It's an Elixir of Hyper Thoughts," she said, clapping her hands with a cold smile. "Drinking this removes drowsiness and sleep, and improves mental activity."
"With this potion, you don't have to sleep for one month and still be perfectly fine."
Slime#47 felt dizzy, 'One month—no sleep,' and he remembered the Herica letters—and how many loops he had spent trying to learn that human language.
'I hate letters,' he thought, irritation rising.
Gulp! Gulp!
He opened the flask and swallowed the liquid in one shot.
'I have no time to waste. I'll finish this trial in one loop. No extra. I don't want to spend multiple loops staring at letters,' he vowed, clenching his hands, after placing the empty flask in the storage compartment.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating to remove negative emotions and distractions.
Everyone drank the potion, took deep breaths, and meditated.
Professor Brad, noticing the students, nodded with appreciation. "Meditation helps calm the mind. It removes stress and unnecessary thoughts. It will be super effective for learning."
Five minutes passed in the blink of an eye.
The fox instructor took the chalk and wrote on the board.
"Let's start with Crimson Draco, the first language of dragons. It contains 540 letters."
Tap! Tap!
She wrote the letters one by one.
"I-I don't have notes…" Slime#47 glanced around as every student pulled out notebooks. He was the only one with nothing to write in.
Noticing his predicament, the yellow slime—wearing a cheerful grin—handed him a white notebook, "Here, I'll give you one. This fox instructor is dangerous, little guy… don't forget things like this next time."
"Thank you," Young Slime said wholeheartedly, while thinking, 'I need to change my body shape...Little guy....that's annoying.'
The notebook had Remorian Everlast Academy on the front page in common demon language, and the black slime symbol similar to the uniform.
The cover was brown leather.
'Smooth,' he thought, rubbing his palm against a random white page.
He quickly checked the accessories he got with his uniform.
"Good," He found a delicate pen, and a small smile appeared on his face.
It was a premium modern pen, black in color.
A few gold crystals were attached along the middle, making it incredibly beautiful. And it had a stub nib.
"Let's try it." Slime#47 spun the pen with his tiny fingers, enjoying the smooth feel.
Satisfied, he opened the notebook to the first page and tried to write.
"What?" he whispered—then immediately froze.
He knew if he made noise, a drop of burning lava would fall on him.
He applied more force—but the pen left no mark.
End of the chapter…
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