Nobi dragged Slime#47 to the lion-headed instructor, Thomas.

Slime#47 raised his head and glanced at the grinning lion face.

He was too small. Even at a child's height, he barely reached Thomas's calf.

"Looks like you finally did it," Thomas praised, nodding.

The instructor wore a tight black sparring uniform that showed off muscles and thick veins running down his arms. His shirt was sleeveless.

During training, Slime#47 had learned the properties of the sparring uniform.

It was rare-rank equipment: it auto-repaired itself from damage and changed shape according to the wearer.

And the wearer could control its style—sleeveless, cloak-like, or any other design.

After a moment, Thomas said, "We'll have to test your power before we start training."

Young Slime nodded.

'Only after knowing my power properly can they design a training schedule and method,' he thought.

Thomas pointed toward the right corner where several arenas stood.

The arenas looked like the rest of the hall, except they had extra inscriptions—and each arena was separated by tall wooden boards.

The boards were carved with magic sigils as well.

"Let's go," Thomas said, indicating Slime#47 to follow.

Thud! Thud!

Young Slime followed as Thomas led him into an empty arena.

The demons who had been sparring and training kept an eye on Slime#47 from the beginning.

As he stepped into the arena, they slowed down and watched.

The moment they noticed Thomas leave the main floor, they dropped their weapons and collapsed onto the marble—Thud!—sweating profusely.

Inside the arena, Young Slime glanced around.

Nobi sighed at the exhausted demons and entered the arena too.

Slime#47 watched Thomas place his right hand on a corner glyph and inject mana.

Whoosh!

A light-violet barrier rose and sealed the entire arena.

'It's stronger than the barriers in the other areas,' Slime#47 thought.

He tapped the marble with his foot—Thud!—and noticed the sigils brighten even more as Thomas poured in more mana.

Nobi stood off to the side and grinned. "Go. Do your best."

She gave a thumbs up, showing support for the multicolored slime.

Once the barrier fully covered the fifty-meter-wide arena, Thomas folded his arms and looked down at Slime#47.

"Go ahead," he commanded. "Use all your power and attack."

Young Slime took a deep breath and focused his mana and aura.

'I have full demonic force, around eighty percent mana, and full aura reserves,' he calculated.

He had taken a mana recovery potion not long ago—enough to stabilize himself at combat-ready reserves.

'Gel Morph takes far less mana…' he mused, 'Since I am using mana to stabilize my shape.'

Gel Morph at Lv.Max consumed less mana than a common-rank spell.

Slimes could change shape naturally, but gravity always forced them back. Gel Morph simply locked that shape in place.

Because of that, maintaining a humanoid form even in battle was sustainable.

"Come, slime," Thomas said.

He stretched out his right arm and curled his index finger, beckoning Slime#47 forward.

"Fireball."

Slime#47 didn't waste time.

A crimson rune flared on his child-sized palm.

A large fireball—basketball-sized—formed, and he hurled it at Thomas.

Whoosh!

The fireball shot toward the lion-headed man at insane speed.

Boom!

The sound echoed.

Thomas casually waved his left hand and struck the fireball with the back of his palm.

It dispersed instantly, leaving nothing behind.

"What?" Slime#47's eyes widened. 'Strong… too strong.'

He was finally witnessing Thomas's strength up close.

Thomas hadn't used mana, aura, or true magic—yet he erased the attack casually.

Young Slime had never met anyone who could dismiss his fireball like that.

"Fireball. Fireball. Fireball…!"

He fired five fireballs from different angles, sending them at monstrous speed.

Thomas kept one hand behind his back.

With the other, he erased them all with the back of his palm.

His arm turned into an afterimage.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"Demonic Surge."

Black demonic force wrapped around Young Slime as his power surged.

"Demonic Bind."

Dark veins burst from the ground and bound Thomas—arms and legs trapped tightly.

"Finally using demonic magic, huh?" Thomas grinned.

Then, with a slight twitch, he snapped the Demonic Bind apart.

The spell shattered and vanished.

"As expected… he's too strong," Young Slime clicked his tongue.

He stared at Thomas and wondered, 'Is he a Demon King?'

He recalled the academy professors—each a Demon King.

And he hadn't forgotten the name.

Professor Seralyth had once said she would complain to Instructor Thomas—the academy's magic instructor.

In the past few days of training, Slime#47 had realized the Thomas he was facing now was the same man Seralyth spoke of.

"No wasting time."

A cold voice sounded behind him.

Young Slime's eyes twitched. He could still see Thomas in front of him—

Yet his body lifted as a kick slammed into his back from behind.

He spat slime-blood midair.

"Rapid Healing."

A light-green rune flared on his palm.

Green energy spread across his body and sealed the injury on his back.

He recovered—

But a chill ran through him again as Thomas flashed in front of him, grinning.

"Demonic Pulse!"

Young Slime fired his strongest blast straight at Thomas's face.

Boom!

A kick smashed into his gut.

He crashed down—Bang!—into the arena floor. Yet there was no scratch on the arena.

His Demonic Pulse cut off as pain shattered his focus.

'Overwhelming speed…'

Slime-blood leaked from multiple places as he forced himself up.

When he had fired Demonic Pulse, Thomas had already moved.

For an instant, Thomas lay horizontally above Slime#47, right along the incoming dark beam—then knee kicked him in the gut and twisted upright, dodging the blast with terrifying precision.

"He… dodged Demonic Pulse," Young Slime muttered, trembling as he stood. "Incredible."

Demonic Pulse was no ordinary skill.

It was an energy blast capable of insane speed.

And Young Slime had poured even more demonic force into it to make it faster and stronger—

Yet Thomas dodged it like it was nothing.

"No doubt he's far beyond anything I can track," Young Slime realized.

"As I said—no thinking in battle!" Thomas shouted.

Thud!

Slime#47's back took another hit as he was flung forward.

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