The Light That Won't Go Out
The single most important core assignment of this winter break.
It was this.
"Your competitive edge in combat against Priests."
A murmur rippled through the students as they exchanged glances with one another.
"As announced previously, the Integrated Second Semester will center on one thesis: training practical necromancers capable of defeating Priests in battle. After the incident, you've all felt it for yourselves. Combat against Priests is an unavoidable challenge."
At the word Priest, a subtle competitive tension began to seep into the classroom's atmosphere.
"Over the break, I want each of you to reflect on and hone your own competitive edge against Priests. You will present what you've prepared in the first class of the new semester."
The students sank into thought, expressions clouded with worry. Simon was no exception.
My own competitive edge against a Priest, huh.
Just as Simon was pondering this seriously—
……?!
White light suddenly flickered to life in his left hand, which rested beneath his desk.
Wh-what the—why now?!
Simon knew immediately what this light was.
It was a Priest's Divinity.
He frantically shook out his left hand, but the light wouldn't die. Meilin, busy scribbling notes, shot him an irritated side-eye.
"What are you doing? So fidgety."
"Ah, sorry. It's nothing."
Camibarez, seated beside him, tilted her head.
"Simon? You don't look well. You're sweating……"
"Uh, yeah. Must be warm in the lecture hall."
Simon spun out the excuse and made a show of listening intently to Jane's lecture. Both of them turned their eyes back to the front, but cold sweat was already trailing down Simon's back.
What is happening to me?
Simon's mind spun like a top. Had he been exposed to too much Divinity during his battle with the Saintess? But by that logic, every working necromancer in the field ought to be leaking Divinity from their bodies too.
A dozen panicked thoughts crowded in at once. Would he be arrested as an Efnel spy if he was caught wielding Divinity at such a chaotic time? Dragged to headquarters, interrogated about the Legion Commander, his parents brought in for questioning? That would truly be the worst-case scenario.
Everyone else was focused on Jane's voice. Simon was fighting a war with himself.
This is driving me insane. Seriously.
No matter how hard he tried to snuff out the Divinity, the light only grew brighter.
He shoved his hand into his pocket, pressed his palm flat against his body—light leaked out anyway. By now, a few students were squinting against the glare and glancing around.
How on earth do I turn this thing off?
It went without saying that Kizen had never taught him anything about operating Divinity. As a first step, Simon raised his concentration the way he did when controlling Jet-Black.
Go out. Go out. Gooo oouuut…….
The opposite effect, as it turned out.
The light doubled in brilliance, illuminating the classroom ceiling in dazzling white.
"Who's playing with lights during lecture?"
Jane's voice rang out as she scribbled lecture notes across the blackboard. Thankfully, she didn't turn around.
The other students' eyes swung—not toward Simon, but toward Rick. Meilin scolded him.
"Ugh! Attention-seeker much!"
"Wh-what? It wasn't me!"
The more Rick protested his innocence, the more stares he attracted.
Such was the importance of everyday conduct.
Sorry, Rick!
While everyone's attention pinned Rick in place, Simon desperately wrestled the Divinity under control. And, truthfully, he felt a little wronged.
Why does it have to happen during the very last class? All this time I could never even use Divinity, and now—
The instant the thought crossed his mind, the Divinity in his palm dimmed… then vanished without a trace.
……?
He had no idea what had just happened, but the relief of survival washed over him in a long exhale. He'd been regretting having to leave Kizen for months—suddenly, not so much.
He needed to get back to Leshill as fast as humanly possible.
I have to learn to control this power from Mom before something goes catastrophically wrong.
While everyone else agonized over how to defeat a Priest's Divinity,
Simon had to figure out how to control his own.
After the announcement, break preparations moved ahead with Kizen's trademark efficiency.
Everyone returned to their dormitories to pack what they needed. Group rooms would remain unchanged into the second semester, but it was wise to gather textbooks, notes, and other essentials for the assignment.
"Thank you for this semester, Kajan."
Simon said it as he packed. Kajan, slinging a large bag over his shoulder, hopped down from the second floor and extended a hand.
"Good work."
The two shook hands briefly. Rick, who had finished packing ages ago and was now rolling around on his own bed, watched them enviously.
"So, um……"
Simon hesitated a moment before speaking.
"Will we see you again next semester?"
Kajan had enrolled at Kizen for one reason: Nephthys's orders to find and arrest the Priest. A disguised admission, in essence.
Now that the mission was resolved, Kajan had no reason left to stay.
"Come to the second semester and find out."
"……Haha."
Simon let out a wry laugh. Typical of the Thieves' Guild—even information about himself wasn't given away easily.
"In any case—fighting alongside you on this mission was my good fortune too."
Then, quietly, below Rick's hearing, Kajan added:
"The Thieves' Guild has at least a shred of loyalty. Everything I've observed about you these past months stays sealed. Rest easy."
"……Ah! Thank you!"
Kajan clapped Simon lightly on the shoulder, then turned and opened the dormitory door.
"Have a good break, Kajan!"
Rick piped up suddenly. Kajan paused mid-step and glanced back.
"Tone down the snoring."
Simon burst out laughing. Rick chuckled too, apparently finding it funny even in retrospect.
After Kajan shut the door behind him, Simon and Rick met each other's eyes and laughed again.
"Break. It doesn't feel real yet."
"Tell me about it. Anyway, I've booked a place in Rochest—quite a few students are staying on the island over the break, so……"
As Rick chattered on, Simon's face twisted in alarm. White light was bleeding out from the tip of his left index finger.
He hastily hid his hand behind his back. Thankfully, Rick was too absorbed in his own story to notice.
I—I have to get home within the hour.
With his packing done, Simon told Rick he had somewhere to stop first and slipped away.
His first destination was Pier's ruins.
The three supposedly mighty Ancient Undead were huddled together on the floor, playing a card game. Hearing Simon's footsteps, Pier seized the moment and flung his hand of cards into the air with a shout.
[There he is, boy!]
Prince clutched his head in disbelief.
[What?! I was about to win that hand!]
[Hohoho! Even boards like this happen sometimes, you know. Welcome, Legion Commander.]
Erzsébet, who had been glaring at her cards while gnawing her nails, tossed her hand into the air as well and rose from her seat.
Only Prince remained slumped where he was, staring blankly at the cards in his hand.
Hands on his hips, Simon asked:
"So, break's finally here. Has everyone decided what they're doing?"
[Of course!]
Pier had decided to visit the Screaming Jungle in southwestern Dresden. He would search there for clues to the next Ancient Undead.
Erzsébet intended to go to a place called the Bug Tomb—a spider paradise. There, she said, she would find a way to dramatically multiply the ranks of her corpse spiders.
And Prince—
[I'm going back to Deathland!]
Prince planned to solidify his control over the other zombies and focus on stabilizing Deathland, which had been thrown into chaos by the upheaval with Manus and his followers.
[It will be the Legion's stronghold one day, after all! Just you watch!]
Prince flung off his crown with a shout. Even at that very moment, two cards of regret still sat in his hand.
"So I'm the only one going to Leshill, then."
Prince had refused to meet Richard, and Erzsébet held a grudge against both Richard and Anna—Simon would have tried to talk her out of it if she'd wanted to come. But Pier's choice surprised him a little. He'd assumed his father and Pier would have plenty to discuss after all this time.
[I am the manager of your Legion now, not Richard's. We are strangers to one another—hardly the sort to sit about chattering, haha and hoho. That sort of thing ill suits my temper.]
As Pier stretched out his arm, the fragment of Pier attached to Simon's uniform was drawn into his palm by the pull of their bond. Pier rose to his feet and slung the Doom Greatsword across his shoulder.
"Pier, are you really sure you don't want to see my father?"
[…….]
Pier tilted his head back, gazed at the ceiling for a moment, then answered.
[The time is not yet right. Richard will feel the same.]
Pier and Erzsébet, who had business in Dresden territory, decided to travel from Roc Island by ship directly. The reservation was already made, and with Erzsébet's shapeshifting there was little risk of discovery. Prince had withdrawn his power and returned to his main body in Deathland.
Back at Kizen, Simon dropped by the Mutant club room to bid the seniors farewell, then arrived at the teleportation magic circle without delay.
"Simon! Over here!"
"Hurry up! What took you so long?"
Barely an hour remained before they'd all be home.
The four of them spent the last moments in warm, lively conversation.
From the Cyclops performance assessment all the way to the Saintess incident—Group 7's bond had reached its peak. Though Simon, perpetually anxious about when the next burst of Divinity might erupt, couldn't quite relax and enjoy it.
He listened to each teammate's plans for the break.
Meilin would spend hers at the Ivory Tower, drilling ice-attribute dark magic intensively while building up her lacking stamina.
Rick would stay in Rochest on Roc Island for about a month. He'd sort out his business affairs there, then cross over to the continent to see his father.
Camibarez, armed with a letter of recommendation from Silaje, would seek out a Kizen graduate to learn how to suppress and control her violent blood.
Everyone's plans were admirably full.
"And what about you, Simon? What are you going to do?"
At Meilin's question, Simon shrugged.
"Me? I'll probably just help Father with his work back home and work on the assignment."
It wasn't a lie—but his real top priority was controlling the Divinity that kept springing out of him at every random moment.
If he could master this power, he suspected it might even yield a hint toward the biggest assignment of all: competitive edge against Priests.
"Departure! Students called by name, please come forward."
As the teleportation circle powered up, the moment of farewell arrived.
Tearful Camibarez was already welling up. They all promised to write, and did their best to console her—two months would fly by, they told her.
"Student Simon Polentia!"
"Yes!"
Simon was called up first. Watching how hard it was for his friends to let go, he realized that even in a short time, they had truly grown attached to one another.
He exchanged goodbyes with his group and stepped onto the teleportation circle. A henchman bowed with practiced courtesy.
"Leshill Territory, Baldwin Kingdom. Is that correct?"
"Yes!"
"Initiating."
The teleportation circle flared to life, and his feet lifted with a soft whoosh. Simon surrendered himself to the familiar sensation and closed his eyes.
Chirp chirp chirp.
Birdsong.
Gentle sunlight, the fresh scent of grass, and the soft murmur of a winding stream.
Simon opened his mouth as he took in the deeply familiar scene spread before him.
Wow…….
He was really back.
Back in Leshill.
The hometown before him was unchanged to a degree that felt almost unbelievable. Nothing had changed at all.
After the cutthroat world of Kizen, the peaceful sight of Leshill made him feel as though he'd been dropped into another dimension entirely.
Simon strolled along at a leisurely pace, taking in his surroundings. Charles, the territory resident who was chopping firewood as always, spotted him and broke into a wide grin.
"Well, if it isn't the young master!!"
Charles hurled his axe aside and waved both arms with abandon. His young son Roha poked his head out and let out a scream that was pure celebration.
"Simon hyeeeaaaang!"
Simon smiled warmly and walked over to exchange greetings with them.
Roha kept stroking Simon's Kizen uniform, declaring how cool it was, then started throwing a tantrum that he wanted to attend Kizen too. Charles laughed heartily and encouraged him—once he shot up tall enough, he'd get his chance.
"Well then, I should be going."
"Yes sir! You're home for the break—rest up nice and easy!"
Simon set off again.
Past the familiar scenery, he arrived before the lord's residence—no, the tree house, as the territory folk insisted on calling it.
He had simply come home. And yet a sudden tension welled up inside him, his heart hammering wildly.
What do I say to Father and Mom first?
Countless greetings crowded his head. Simon drew a deep breath and stood before the door.
Knock knock knock.
He knocked, but no answer came. And yet—there were sounds of movement inside.
Are they busy?
The door wasn't locked, so Simon carefully pushed it open and stepped inside.
There stood Richard in front of the inner room, his face grave.
"Simon!"
Richard had spotted him.
The moment Simon saw his father's expression, he knew something was wrong—and rushed into the inner room.
"Ah……!"
His eyes went wide.
Anna Polentia lay on the bed, her face pale and worn.