Don't confiscate my identity as a human race

"You said this place could evoke my memories?"

In this corridor, music echoed through the empty hallways, mixed with wailing songs, swirling around the Governor and Half-Witch, like an overture of pursuit and escape being played.

Even though the scene of the Demon Academy slightly spooked the audience below, the expressions of the Governor and Half-Witch on stage remained calm, as if the presence of the Half-Witch, a character who naturally brought an atmosphere with her, would not be afraid of such terror.

"Yes."

The Half-Witch nodded confidently, standing with hands on hips in front of a door.

The dark marble floor was decorated with golden patterns, and the two were standing on a carpet with mystical flower patterns.

"But there are no photos of us left here, how do you prove we came to this music classroom together."

The Governor stared at the large classroom with a plaque indicating it was for music, asking the Half-Witch.

"Look, the music classroom is full of ghosts."

The Half-Witch just shook her head and pushed open the sealed classroom door.

As the projection of the classroom appeared on the stage, the interior scene flooded into the audience's view. Compared to a tiered classroom, it looked more like a vast opera house.

With splendid lighting decorations, red velvet seating, and that solemn stage, it resembled the reflection of the Ikelite Opera House, as uncountable phantom figures crossed from another dimension, overlapping indistinguishably like a choir.

One notable delicacy Tata had eaten in the Poseen Kingdom was Ghost Bread. When Lanci first brought her to the Posen Demon Realm, she had this ghostly bread, and now the cute fellows inside the door looked just like rolls of Ghost Bread.

"Did you know this is something I caused myself?"

The Demon Race Governor stared at this classroom with a voice like the depths of Hell, almost losing his composure seeing the Half-Witch's drooling expression.

At this point, ideally, there should have been an eerie and suspenseful atmosphere, setting the stage for the final twist.

However, now he only felt as if they had opened the door to a cooking class.

"Yes, I was there too, so when they saw me, they would fear me as well."

The Half-Witch took a step toward the classroom, swallowing her saliva again.

The ghosts retreated instantly upon seeing her, holding the same fear toward her as they did for the Governor.

"..."

The Demon Race Governor furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the Half-Witch's hungry tiger-like appearance, as if doubting something.

Can they not be afraid of you?

And, Xiu Bao, are you really that hungry today?

It seemed today Hyperion's performance was just slightly off in various places, but overall the style had drifted far.

Lanci now felt a tingling sensation on his scalp.

He didn't know if continuing this way, they could successfully wrap up the ending.

"These ghosts don't know they are dead, and they keep singing endlessly."

Miss Half-Witch continued to speak.

"Alright, I'll tentatively trust your words — I might have forgotten you. But I still cannot completely rule out this is a ruse, after all, I truly can't recall memories of you. I will investigate with you until we find solid evidence."

Lanci could only take it one step at a time.

His brain was overwhelmed, still desperately thinking about how to better salvage the foreshadowing that nearly unraveled earlier, slowly drawing it toward the conclusion.

"Let's walk the path we've taken together again, you'll see more traces we've left."

The Half-Witch laughed excitedly.

They explored the past within the Demon Clan School.

After a long time, the segment of the second act at the Demon Academy approached its end, beginning preparations for the third act, Deserted Mountain Castle.

Amidst the applause of the audience, the scene gradually shifted to the next act.

A cold breeze swept across the stage.

It wasn't the biting cold of winter but the fresh chill of breathing at the mountain's peak.

They arrived at a desolate and dilapidated castle.

This was the banquet hall on the first floor of the castle, and at the same time, it resembled an ancient Holy Temple.

An awe-inspiring pipe organ, several stories tall, dominated the entire back wall, with some pipes standing straight, others curved, some glinting gold, some of wooden simplicity, arranged in different shapes and levels.

The most conspicuous spot in the hall's center was taken by a grand and spacious long table, with silver candlesticks long extinguished, and neat rows of dining chairs carved from brown oak along its sides.

The Governor immediately blocked access to the sideboard.

He was afraid that Miss Half-Witch would go to rummage for food as soon as she entered the scene.

And indeed, he had just noticed from Miss Half-Witch's gaze that she was genuinely searching for food in this scene.

"What's here then?"

The Governor placed his hands back in his coat pockets, mist wafting from his mouth, cautiously asking the Half-Witch.

"Do you feel the curse in this castle? You feel discomfort as soon as you step in."

Miss Half-Witch pursed her lips, her gaze subconsciously drifting to the sideboard behind the Governor.

Clearly, there were pastries there, but Lanci seemed to be solely defending against her, preventing her from touching it.

At first, she was a bit nervous about being on stage, thinking eating a few bites of the nearby pastries could settle her nerves, and she thought the plate of pastries was prepared by Abigail for Hyperion, so she went for it as usual.

Clearly, this castle was a scene where one shouldn't casually search for food.

She wasn't stupid.

She just felt Lanci's inexplicable rudeness.

"This surely is a cursed castle, but why does its cursing technique feel so familiar..."

The Governor placed his hand on the table while glancing at the Half-Witch, sensing.