Due to his realistic nature, Simon was actually expecting to be rejected by all the instructors he sent an application to.
He was not particularly liked by the academy because he was beginning to challenge the system and because he was such a wild and chaotic Initiate, so it wouldn’t be surprising to him if none of the instructors chose not to teach him.
Especially after what he just did this morning. Becoming enemies with not just one but three factions was surely going to make many initiates and instructors to avoid cooperating with him like a plague, which was why he was a little bit surprised when he saw that he was accepted by one of the instructors.
’Instructor Ormon. Hmm... Not exactly the instructor I wanted the most, but I guess he’s better than nothing.’
Simon went through the information he just received from the instructor, and his eyes could not help but flicker when he saw the schedule.
’I can have the class anytime I want? As long as I send him a message and he responds that he’s free, the class can hold?’
’Could he be that free?’
He decided to check the fee, but what he saw made him frown.
’The fee would be discussed when I attend my first training?... Strange.’
At this point, Simon could not help but wonder if this instructor Ormon was a backer or member of one of the factions he was at odds with.
’Could this be a ploy of the factions? Could their reactions be so quick? A trap? A way for them to understand me better so that they can thoroughly destroy me?’
Simon thought of numerous ways by which the factions could use this private instructor of his against him.
The more he had these thoughts, the darker his expression became.
A few seconds later, he perceived a shadow moving toward him.
He looked up, and he saw an initiate standing in front of him.
The Initiate was wearing a white mask with a black spiral on it and two eye holes. He had black eyes, digitigrade legs, and the tail of a werewolf behind him.
This initiate radiated the aura of a Prime Archfiend, and Simon could not help but narrow his eyes since he had no idea who this initiate was.
"Can I help you?" Simon asked with a raised brow.
The Initiate was silent for a moment, then he spoke.
"The faction leaders want to see you."
There was a tinge of disdain and disgust in the tone of the messenger, but Simon did not care about this.
In the next moment, he raised a brow in surprise when he saw the messenger turn and he began to walk away.
Simon tilted his head slightly with a curious and baffled expression.
’Does he expect me to follow him just because the three faction leaders want to see me?’
Simon decided to wait and observe the messenger instead of drawing his attention back to the real world.
As the messenger kept on walking forward without knowing that he had not taken a single step, Simon became lost in his thoughts.
He was honestly a bit surprised that the three faction leaders requested for him so soon. He had thought of such a thing happening, but he placed very little odds on this happening.
As for whether he would meet with the faction leaders...
"What are you doing?"
The messenger finally noticed that Simon was not following, and he stared at Simon with narrowed eyes that were filled with confusion and immense displeasure.
He felt like a fool for having walked for so long without knowing that Simon was not behind him.
Simon looked at the messenger.
"Where are we going?" He asked.
The messenger immediately scoffed in disdain and anger.
"We’re going to wherever I take you."
Simon tilted his head slightly.
"You’re not very smart and good at your job, are you?" He said with visible amusement in his tone.
The messenger’s anger rose like a burning forest. He appeared in front of Simon in a flash.
"The faction leaders would surely not mind it if you’re missing an arm or two."
Ptui!
The messenger spat on Simon’s mask, his saliva slowly sliding down Simon’s mask.
"Lowly fucking slave that doesn’t know his place." He said with utter disgust and disdain.
Simon smiled behind his mask, and to the surprise of the messenger, Simon placed his hand on his cheek and patted it.
He shook his head softly and clicked his tongue with disappointment.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You’re not only dumb but you’re also ignorant. What a pity. I feel sorry for your future children... Hopefully, they get their unfortunate mother’s genes instead."
Pat
Pat
Simon patted the left cheek of the messenger very softly, but in the next moment...
Slap!
He slapped the messenger, causing the messenger to hold his left cheek in shock and disbelief.
"You-!"
Simon raised a finger and cut him off.
"Shut up. If you say another word, I’ll slap you again."
And obviously, the messenger did not take his threat seriously and he became even angrier.
"Who do you think you-"
Slap!
Simon slapped the same left cheek with an even greater force.
The messenger held his cheek in extreme shock and disbelief.
"You-! Die for me!"
SLAP!
Simon slapped the messenger becore he could even make a move, and the messenger was forced to take two, no, three, no, four steps back before falling to his knees.
The messenger’s head was filled with a loud buzz and ringing noise, and his left cheek felt like a red hot iron had just been placed on it.
Unlike before, Simon used a fraction of his demonic energy to slap the messenger, causing the slap to be even more painful than before.
Just as the messenger was trying to gather his thoughts, he felt a hand grab his robes, then he heard the sound of his robes tearing apart.
He blinked, and though his vision was blurry, he saw Simon using his torn robe to wipe away the saliva on his mask.
A few seconds later, he saw the torn robe that was now filled with his saliva land on his mask.