The Misfit of Demon King Academy (WN)-Chapter 3.1

The arena has been split into various sections.

An owl is perched on one of the bronze statues of knights that are lined up nearby and speaks.

“Please line up by the letter that was printed on your invitation card.”

Looking at my invitation I could see the letter F printed on it.

“Misha’s is?”

“…….E…….” she says while showing me the invitation.

An owl flies to the end of each line carrying a piece of parchment with a letter on it.

“Well then. My best regards on entering this school.”

“……Nn…….”

Separating from Misha I line up in the F row. It’s a long line but I peer ahead using my demon eye.

It looks like we enter a waiting room one at a time.

It looks like my turn will take some time. At a rough count, there are about 100 people ahead of me.

All 7 lines are the same though so there’s about 700 people here.

I know it’s been 2000 years but my decedents have increased well.

It seems my worry about my bloodline dying out was unnecessary.

While idly thinking such things I wait for time to pass.

After a while, I’m finally at the front of the line looking at the waiting room.

Entering inside there’s another owl waiting again.

Who’s familiar is this?

I can’t feel any traces of magic power so I can’t see who it’s master is. They have hidden themselves well.

It seems there are some decent magic users in this age after all.

“Welcome, please come in. I’ll explain the contents of this practical exam.”

Inviting me and examining me. I can’t judge if the admission for this school is right or wrong though their first purpose is to find the reincarnated demon king.

This is the first time I reincarnated but reincarnating with your memories intact is supposed to be quite rare. How aware are they that they are the reincarnation of the demon king Arnos. The mazoku of now probably have no idea.

If I stepped forward and introduced myself I could finish it. Saying that, it was arranged for me to come here so it’s only common courtesy that I hear them out first.

“In this practical test, we have students duel each other in the arena. After beating 5 people your magic power is measured, we examine you and if you pass you are admitted into Deruzogedo. If you lose you will be unable to gain admission.”

I am the first demon king. There’s no chance of me losing.

Also, by watching the magic that a person uses it is possible to tell if someone is the founder.

I think that the test is a bit simple but it might be right for this time and place.

“All weapons, armour and spells are allowed. Any questions?”

“Not really.”

“Well then, I wish you the blessing of the founder.”

I opened the door at the back of the waiting room and proceeded down a dim and long passageway.

Even though it’s my castle this is the first time I’ve used this corridor. The arena was originally a place where people fought to show off their skills for combat.

A light appeared as I neared the end of the corridor and I exited out into a round stadium with high walls.

Above the wall was the spectator seats filled here and there with mazoku.

Looking closer I can see that they are all wearing the same uniform. Are they students at this school?

“Yo! We meet again.”

A man with swarthy skin was standing at the opposite end.

It was Zepes who I easily dealt with last time.

Fumu. My partner is a small fry. It will be difficult to prove I’m the founder fighting him. What should I do?

“You. Oi! Are you listening.”

Without answering I walk forward 3 steps and the passage behind me closes with a magic barrier.

“Oops. You retreat has been blocked. Are you nervous?” Zepes said in a proud tone of voice.

“You thought I was thinking of running away? Don’t worry, I won’t kill you so feel at ease.”

Zepes clicks his tongue.

Yare yare. I was being polite but this guy has no manners.

Is he really a fool who can’t tell the difference in our power?

“Let me tell you I won’t go easy on you. I’ll change your proud face into a soggy, tearful face full of horror then I’ll kill you.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out into laughter.

“Kukuku, Haahaahaahaa. Nonono. Kill me? Who? This me?”

I glare at Zepes.

“Know your place you buffoon.”

Power can be put into words but it didn’t effect Zepes this time.

The dull coloured armour he was wearing flashed anti-magic formations across its surface.

“Hou, I won’t eat from that hand anymore. This armour contains the power to block any magic cast at it.”

I see. Because he relies on that armour his own personal anti-magic power is weak.

Despite being my descendent he’s a completely pitiable man.