Kizen-Style Dodgeball
Perfect stillness.
Every sight and sound stripped away, leaving only what was needed.
In this world, Simon alone was the complete protagonist.
To think I'd be seeing this mental landscape again, here of all places.
During combat, Simon could invoke an extreme state of focus and artificially 'reproduce' this condition — but the cradle of concentration built from Bahil's curse, or Serne's feathers, was simply on another level.
What he felt was his own body, and the flow of Jet-Black registering with uncanny clarity. And, faint but present, the existence of Serne pressed close against his back.
["Shall we begin?"]
Her pleasant voice rang out crisp and clear. Simon ratcheted his focus up to its peak and set his core into motion.
Three times its usual rate.
Like a swollen river flooding its banks, the vast surge of Jet-Black was steadily accumulating damage across his body.
["You'll need to raise your control further."]
She kept guiding the current back to a straight course whenever it threatened to spill into side channels.
The core did not stop. The volume of Jet-Black kept growing. Control grew harder.
["I'll make an outlet for you."]
At her voice, he felt the Jet-Black begin to drain out from within his body.
Only now did the balance come right. Relieved, Simon pushed his core even higher.
His body was burning.
Blood boiled, and every single cell cried out with strength. It was vitality on an entirely different plane from ordinary Internal Jet-Black Operation.
["Slowly, now—"]
By this point, circulation and discharge of Jet-Black were happening simultaneously. The power overflowed, beyond anything he could contain.
And right at that moment—
Serne, who had been locked against his back in a full embrace, pulled away. Simon's world snapped back to its original state.
"Serne?"
The surrounding students were murmuring, all of them staring at him.
When Simon turned to her with a flustered face, she smiled with her hands clasped behind her back and gave a small nod of her chin toward his body.
"……!"
Drops of Jet-Black were beading off his skin.
He hadn't just manifested the Internal Jet-Black Eruption — he'd apparently mastered the discharge as well, without even noticing.
The envious gazes of the students bored into him.
"Whoa! He actually pulled it off?"
"It took us forever to get there and he just does it? Is he an alien or what?"
"Yeah, that's Special Admission No. 1 for you."
No — I didn't do it alone.
When Simon lifted his dazed head, Serne was wearing a smile like spring blossoms.
"That's another debt on the pile. Deal?"
"……."
Simon let out a short laugh.
"All right. Thanks."
She swept her platinum-blonde hair back with an elegant motion.
"Once you've stacked up ten debts like this, I get to make a really big wish. Okay?"
"……What is this, a school cafe coupon?"
"Ahaha!"
Just as the two of them were trading banter with easy laughter—
GOOOOOOOOH!
There stood a pair of students pouring out volcanic fury.
Meilin, her face blazing, was glaring daggers at Simon and Serne as they laughed together in their cozy little bubble.
Ugh — this is SO frustrating! I warned him until my throat was sore! I told him to stay away from that woman no matter what! I said she'd just use him and manipulate him!
Meilin felt like she was going to lose her mind over how oblivious Simon was.
How could he not see her true nature? And him, a boy, falling head over heels for a pretty face and giggling like an idiot — it made her want to tear her uniform apart.
Left to her own impulses, she'd have charged over that instant and knocked their heads together.
Thump.
And right beside her, one step forward, Hector was erupting with rage from every inch of his body, like some god of wrath incarnate.
SIMON POLENTIAAAA!
Hector ground his teeth to dust.
You! Just how far are you planning to mock me?!
Hector had entered dark magic years before Simon, and of course he was already capable of the 'Internal Jet-Black Eruption'.
But a technique he had bought with countless hours of practice and near-death experience — Simon had just picked it up in a single class period, in plain view of everyone.
GOOOOOOOOH!
Sparks practically flew from the eyes of the two students glaring at Simon. Several nearby students pretended not to notice and quietly resumed their training.
Then, at the very peak of their fury, the two pairs of eyes met.
"Hey. What are you glaring at?"
Meilin growled.
"Oh, this idiot's really lost it. Don't make me put those eyes out."
A killing light kindled in Hector's gaze.
Just as the two of them looked ready to lunge at each other—
"Meilin! No!"
Camibarez shrieked and sprinted over, throwing her arms around Meilin. Hector's faction members likewise rushed in and grabbed him around the waist, holding him back.
The two glared at each other with murderous looks — until they saw the TAs approaching, and finally turned away.
What's going on over there?
At the murmuring, Simon glanced back, but Meilin and Hector were already stalking off in opposite directions while the TAs went around settling everyone down.
Training resumed.
Simon could now trigger the Internal Jet-Black Eruption at the exact moment he intended. But—
The risk is way too high.
Gaining tremendous power in a burst was nice and all, but the strain on his body and the Jet-Black consumption were severe. If he couldn't decisively subdue his opponent during those minutes, defeat was all but guaranteed.
Besides, blasting nearly all of his Jet-Black out of his body like that was horribly inefficient. It really did feel like a true 'finishing move' — nothing more.
"That's why, even among professional necromancers, very few people use the Eruption as their main technique."
Serne said, waving her index finger back and forth.
"The reason Professor Hong Peng is teaching it now is surely as groundwork for what comes next. There are all sorts of applied techniques built on the Eruption."
"Ah, I see."
Simon nodded.
"Can you use it too?"
"Using it isn't hard."
She extended her index finger toward Simon. From the fingertip alone, a thin trail of smoke hissed out and drifted away.
"But it's so barbaric and crude, isn't it? I'd rather not bother with Magic Combat if I can help it."
To be fair, even without Magic Combat, Serne's avenues of attack were practically limitless.
Launching feathers went without saying — she could also load Jet-Black into a feather and unfold a magic circle in midair far away, or spread twenty magic circles at once with twenty feathers. He'd even seen her transform feathers into other objects entirely.
Her habit of letting Magic Combat class drift past one ear and out the other was, in a way, simply confidence.
"Still, I believe there's nothing in this world you learn that turns out to be useless."
Simon offered his usual philosophy.
"Meilin used to be a glass-cannon type with Magic Combat as her weak point, but lately she's been patching that up and her form has gotten much better for it."
"That much is true, I suppose."
Serne smiled with her arms crossed. Simon read her expression carefully before continuing.
"And if you're serious about wanting to get closer to Meilin, you'd do well to fix the habit of always looking down on people as beneath you."
"Whatever do you mean~? The fact that Meilin is beneath me is just reality. What's there to fix?"
Simon gave an awkward laugh.
"You know, you're one of the strangest people I've ever met. And I've met a lot of people."
Serne smiled right back.
"Oh, we agree on something~ You're the strangest person I've ever met."
While the two were trading jabs, Hong Peng clapped her hands briskly to call an assembly. Every student of Class A and Class C streamed toward her.
"Pleathe, thit down, everyone."
Once the students had settled onto the grass, Hong Peng continued.
"Not mathering it right away ith completely normal! Jet-Black operation techniqueth are all about conthtant, thteady practice. You've all worked hard, tho take a twenty-minute breather. After that, I've prepared a fun event for you!"
At the words fun event, every student's face froze solid.
Please don't say one-legged hippo hopping. Please.
It's obviously sandbag-sprinting up a hill. No point even hoping.
Just then, TA Brad, standing off at a distance, tossed a ball to her. She caught it one-handed and broke into a wide grin.
"Inter-Clath ball game. How does that thound?"
"!!!!"
"Seriously??"
An actual, normal event! Whoops of joy and disbelief exploded from every direction.
A ball was a genuinely rare sight at Kizen.
The arrival of an actual sport made the students' eyes light up. Even those with little interest in ball games were sincerely overjoyed simply because it wasn't hippo hopping or hill sprinting.
"Now, let me explain the ruleth."
With the ball tucked under one arm, Hong Peng moved on to the details.
Simply put, the rules closely resembled dodgeball. Enter the court, throw the ball, hit your opponents.
The instant the ball touched your body, if you held on and caught it cleanly without dropping it, you could seize the right to attack.
However, there was no free-attack system where eliminated players helped their team from outside the court. Once you were out, you were out of the game entirely.
"But of courthe! A plain game would be no fun at all, would it?"
The students felt a sudden wave of unease wash over them.
She raised the ball and threw it toward Brad, standing a fair distance away. But perhaps her aim had slipped, because the ball was sailing off toward the forest instead.
WHOOSH—!
Then, out of nowhere, the ball's trajectory bent sharply and rocketed straight for Brad.
Brad lowered his stance and absorbed the ball cleanly. It took a good two meters of skidding backward across the ground before his legs finally stopped.
"This ball has dark magic on it."
The students buzzed with horrified expressions.
"No matter where you throw it, it will always fly toward someone bearing a core. In other words, there's no such thing as a wild throw that misses."
Brad threw the ball again. It soared far into the distance, then — like a hawk chasing down prey — curved in mid-flight and streaked back toward Hong Peng.
Once again, she plucked it out of the air one-handed.
"Dodgeball is impothible. This is a game of attack and defense and nothing elthe. If you can't block properly — you're out!"
What kind of ball game IS this?!
The words climbed right up to the tip of more than a few students' tongues. A handful just nodded in grim resignation — yeah, figured as much.
"Still, it does sound kind of fun."
"Yeah. No way we're losing to Class C!"
"Professor!"
Once again it was Jamie Victoria of Class A, the resident question master, raising her hand.
"Are we allowed to use dark magic?"
"Yeth. You may use dark magic to enhance yourself, your allies, or the ball — but you may not exert any influence on the opposing team'th students. Break the rules and you're out on the thpot. Also, the intangibility technique 'Spirit Transformation' is forbidden. If all you had to do was pass the ball through you, the game would never end."
At that, Cindy Vivace was visibly seen to pout.
"Twenty players per court. Best two out of three. The winning class gets a delicious meal — and the losing team…"
She beamed.
"…gets to watch the winners eat while filling their stomachs with health drinks~"
Sparks flew in every student's eyes.
Competition!
The air shifted in an instant as Kizen's signature competitive instincts burst into flame.
"Class A, gather up!"
"We die before we lose this!"
"Class C, over here!"
"Time to finally stomp those special-admission brats the Vice Principal coddles!"
As everyone burned with competitive fire, Simon too rose from his spot.
"Hey, Simon."
Grab.
Out of nowhere, Meilin seized him by the wrist. Simon looked at her, startled.
"M-Meilin?"
"You're the class rep, so come on. We're planning Class A's strategy."
She marched him off without another word.
When Simon glanced back, he saw Serne waving at him with a relaxed smile. Before long, Class C students were gathering around her as well.
"Where's Cami?"
"……."
"Meilin?"
She turned her head away with a haughty huff through her nose.
Simon gave a wry smile. Why does she seem mad this time?
"Come on, everyone! Simon, welcome~"
At the center of the assembled Class A sat Jamie Victoria, with Rick standing beside her.
At Jamie's nod, Rick cleared his throat loudly and drew everyone's attention.
"Yep! Dick Hayward, brain of Class A, at your service."
A round of playful booing rose from all corners, but Rick took it in stride, bowing like an MC and thanking the crowd for their warm welcome with practiced wit.
"I'll explain on behalf of our class president. First — the teams have already been set by the TAs."
Rick pulled a folding table out of his subspace — why anyone carried such a thing around was a mystery — unfolded it, and laid a stack of papers on top.
The students crowded in to study the lists. Simon came closer and checked the roster as well.
I'm on Team 2.
For now, he focused mainly on the names of students he knew well.
Team 1: Meilin, Rick, Toto.
Team 2: Simon, Hector.
Team 3: Cindy, Jamie, Camibarez.
The balance isn't bad.
Thinking this, Simon turned his head slightly.
Hector, arms crossed and face twisted into a scowl, looked utterly dissatisfied with the team composition.
"Okay, everyone, listen up for a second."
Rick spoke again.
"It does narrow our strategic options a bit, but what we actually get to decide is which team we send out in rounds one, two, and three. Which makes this a mind game. The ideal play: when Class C fields their ace team, we answer with our weakest team to wear them down — and then send our ace team out to crush their middle-tier squad."
Everyone nodded. Then one student raised a hand.
"It's best-of-three, right? Wouldn't it be better to just field two strong teams back-to-back and end it in one go?"
"Obviously."
Rick grinned and pressed on.
"Class C will field Serne's ace team in at least one of the first two rounds — unless they go full gambler mode."
"……Mm."
At the mention of Serne, everyone wore queasy expressions.
Serne — one of Kizen's twin aces alongside Lorraine — was an undeniably terrifying presence.
This time Jamie spoke up.
"Then we'd better settle on our strong and weak teams fast."
"Yeah. Our balance is pretty even, but if I had to pick…"
Rick's gaze swung around.
"Team 2, with Simon and Hector together, looks like the strongest. Any objections?"