Darian walked up to a tall, handsome man with colorful hair. He was a pure Chromaraic, sitting down and holding a black crystal. That was the exam supervisor, the one in charge of registering everyone who'd take part.
When Darian stopped in front of him, the man looked surprised. His gaze narrowed instantly, filled with disgusting contempt for Darian's supposed demonic bloodline.
The man scanned Darian from head to toe, and a flash of anger lit up in his eyes. On top of being "half demon," he also thought Darian's body looked way below average.
"A Battle Institute instructor has to rely on real ability. If you're not strong enough, you could end up with some broken bones—or even accidentally lose your life."
"I know," Darian replied flatly.
Obviously, killing wasn't allowed in a sect—especially one like this, which was struggling with a lack of disciples. So the idea of someone actually dying here was absurd. The guy just wanted to scare him.
