Bring Him Down (2)
The representatives of the 65th class would, of course, have been the three pillars who dominated the entrance ceremony. Or perhaps it was time to call them the two pillars now. Setting them aside, the true faces representing the 65th class were the ten department heads gathered inside this Moon God Pavilion.
They formed the core power that drove the student council. A few had claimed their seats through pure ability, unburdened by pedigree. Yet the majority were influential students who carried considerable weight in the central circles.
And not one of them had received any prior warning that an event like this would occur. Their relationships had never been warm to begin with. Under normal circumstances they rarely even spoke to one another, so there had been no reason for any under-the-table coordination among them.
Yet now, none of them uttered the usual complaints—“Why the hell are we even gathered here? This isn’t a regular meeting.” The reason was painfully simple.
They had come because of a single man. Every last one of them had been drawn here as though bewitched, their thoughts perfectly aligned.
“So the one who rang the bell was…”
“It has to be the top student, right?”
“You all saw the black meteor as well, then.”
“When a man that massive stands beside a bell that size, how could anyone miss him?”
Before arriving, most of them had simply been drifting through Sigmund, swept along by the tide of protests without understanding why. But the moment they witnessed the man known as the top student, the Steel Knight, the black meteor, they had flocked to this place as if possessed.
Never before had their thoughts converged so completely. Yet at this moment they shared one common conviction:
The chairman cannot be left untouched.
The gathered heads exchanged awkward glances. Still, what needed to be said was so obvious that their silence did not last long. Before anyone spoke, however, the same natural question rose in every mind: Why was Yohan not appearing even after doing something like this?
“The reason the black meteor summoned us seems clear enough. So why isn’t the man himself coming to the Moon God Pavilion?”
The first to voice it was Faust, head of the Military Department—a massive, bear-like man. Instead of sitting, he leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the round table at the center of the chamber.
“He’s a hero, not an officer. Even if he were, he has no authority to ring the bell. All we know is that the black meteor wants to tell us something… In that case, wouldn’t it be normal for him to come here first and speak his mind?”
“Hold on, big guy.”
The words were intercepted by Figaro, director of the Press Department—no introduction necessary.
“The fact that he isn’t here means he has no intention of stepping forward himself. The question is why.”
“Hmm…”
Faust, never the quickest thinker, seemed lost in contemplation. Yet the length of time each person spent thinking was merely a matter of individual comprehension. Anyone possessing basic reason could reach the same conclusion.
Yohan. Top student of the 65th class and hero of the field practicum. After every incident he had never once stepped into the spotlight. On the contrary, he avoided attention as if it were a burden, always following his lady quietly from the shadows, just as he had always done.
So why would such a man ring the great bell of the Grand Bell Tower and entrust everything to the student council?
Figaro kindly offered a hint to the still-struggling Faust.
“…Well, he’s the sort who tried to remain silent until the very end. Coming here to make an appeal can’t be pleasant for him. It would mean stepping into the arena of central power, after all.”
He slipped his pipe between his lips, indifferent to the eyes watching him.
“But he clearly didn’t want the situation to deteriorate further. Once it became serious, he simply asked us for ‘help.’ So I believe we should mind our own business and simply do what must be done.”
“…It must have been truly unbearable for him.”
The one who spoke then was Altria of the Discipline Department.
“I, too, am sick to death of the chairman’s tyranny. The timing has come sooner than expected, but I fully agree with the cause that made him ring the bell. The Military Department feels the same, I assume?”
“…Identical position.”
Then someone said, “Good.”
All eyes turned to the woman seated at the head of the table—Gremory, head of the Magic Department and future master of the Four Towers. Today she had once again filled the Moon God Pavilion with her verdant dignity. She sat in perfect silence, as though she alone had foreseen this moment, calmly absorbing every gaze directed at her. Then, with firm resolve, she drove forward without hesitation.
“If no one else will speak first, I shall. The agenda is singular: the impeachment of the chairman.”
A short, simple declaration. Because every person present sympathized, drafting a resolution and securing a majority seemed effortless. The only remaining question was who would put their name forward.
Yet Gremory appeared to have already decided.
“…And as his successor, we shall nominate ‘Nonedon Naigerse,’ former captain of the Imperial Guard.”
“Nonedon Naigerse…?!”
Every face twisted with shock.
Those from the upper city knew little of the lower districts, but the people gathered here at least recognized the name.
Nonedon. Once chosen as Guard Captain, he had delivered outstanding service to the empire. After the bloody purge, however, he had defected, descended into madness, and become nothing more than a thug—a defective warlord who ruled the Bruised City like a petty king. To place such a brute at the forefront of education was, even politely speaking, insane.
The backlash was immediate. Aside from a few who remained silent, the entire assembly stirred.
“So,” sneered Roaen of the Alchemy Department, another officer. “Removing the chairman is all well and good, but what kind of judgment leads you to suggest installing a deranged thug in his place, young lady?”
“What exactly is the intent behind your question—?”
“Under normal circumstances you would recommend someone else. It seems you have an agenda…”
Figaro, well-versed in current affairs, seized the opening Roaen had provided.
“Aha. Nonedon Naigerse is indeed Cryan’s maternal uncle. And Cryan is, at this moment, the sole surviving crown prince. This appears to be a scheme you’ve devised in relation to the current state of the ‘center,’ young lady. Would you care to clarify?”
“There is nothing to clarify. Interpret it as you wish.”
“‘Interpret it as you wish’—how very politician-like.”
“Regardless, that is my organized proposal. If you do not agree now, you will agree later.”
At Gremory’s brazen attitude, Faust slammed his fist on the table.
“Are you threatening me, Magic Department Head?”
“Threatening? I wonder whose mood makes it sound that way?”
Gremory was not one to be swayed. She answered lightly without even turning her head.
“Don’t make excuses. The mere fact that such a psychopath is considered a ‘choice’ already proves you’ve lost your mind. A person like that cannot lead an educational institution.”
Faust ground his teeth, but Gremory countered with icy calm.
“His mind has returned. The psychopath you once knew no longer exists. Therefore he is necessary.”
She tapped her cheek lightly, utterly composed.
“With his name alone, the empire will once again grow tense. And ‘politics’ will begin to move.”
Figaro answered with a mocking laugh.
“Well said, young lady. We gathered for a righteous cause, yet what you’re doing is pure political maneuvering.”
He continued as though reaching a conclusion.
“Your true intention is this: to restore the name Cryan von Karlank to Cryan, who currently possesses no surname. And that restoration begins with Nonedon Naigerse as its foundation.”
“…Your talent for spinning tales is truly impressive.”
“Hardly surprising. I didn’t become a journalist by accident, so please refrain from underestimating me, young lady.”
Figaro frowned in open disgust.
“Then I’ll take it that this entire affair is an attempt to turn even the Sigmund Student Council into the royal family’s loyal dogs.”
Gremory drew a sharp breath. A thread of tension raced across the table.
“Unfortunately, that process was already underway. You simply failed to notice.”
“…Ah, I see.”
In short: Don’t get cocky.
Everyone froze. Gremory continued.
“We cannot reclaim our school life while the current chairman remains. He is entangled with Crown Prince Vancait. Therefore, to free both this empire and this academy from that cruel shadow, a complete severance is required.”
Her thinking was transparent. Yet she skillfully reframed the discussion, eloquently describing the symbolic weight Nonedon could carry. As expected of a leader of the Magic Towers, her powers of persuasion were formidable.
“Moreover, Nonedon is currently the only individual who has washed away his service under Crown Prince Vancait. The man who has spent years despising him is precisely the necessary and rightful person to bring everything to an end.”
“Using that mad King of Power to remove the chairman—and the Magic Department is leading the charge,” Altria observed.
Gremory answered without smile or scorn.
“Whether it is acceptable or not does not matter. We are simply making the necessary moves.”
She spoke with the calm of someone giving confession.
“The city is sealed. Politics lies in a vacuum. All of it stems from the incompetence of the old regime. But now they want us—the ones who act.”
She slowly raised a finger and pointed out the window—toward the Grand Bell Tower. The one who could ring that bell more powerfully than anyone was the very embodiment of “the one who acts.” They had witnessed the overwhelming force of that power during field training.
She raised her finger to remind them. Yet she never spoke his name aloud. And though they all knew it, none of them uttered it either.
Because he had wished for it.
“Let us open the door.”
Silence. Heavy, oppressive silence. Yet once those words were spoken, neither mockery nor objection remained.
Gremory signed the resolution first. Then Figaro, Faust, Altria, Roaen—and every other department head in turn. One by one they added their names to the approval line.
It was unanimous.
Gremory sat back in her chair and drew a quiet breath. The expression on her face was not that of a victor, but of one who had finished her calculations with cold precision.
I’ve done everything I can. Now, let’s see how this plays out.
Chairman Impeachment Bill
Passed unanimously by the 65th Class Student Council.
Immediate removal of the current chairman.
Proposed successor: Nonedon Naigerse, former Imperial Guard Captain.
Effective immediately. All students are to be informed.
The following day, the student council’s “Chairman Impeachment Bill” spread across all of Sigmund. And on that same day, the student evaluation of the chairman’s office ultimately received three skulls.