The Right of the Victor
“P-Professor Bahil……!”
Rikon dropped to his knees the instant he saw Bahil, the professor who had once been his department head. Trembling uncontrollably, he pointed a shaking hand at his own chest.
“D-do you—do you remember me?”
“Of course I do, Rikon.”
A gentle smile curved Bahil’s lips.
“I heard a voice from far away, and I simply had to come see for myself that it was you.”
Hope bloomed across Rikon’s entire face.
“P-please, I’m begging you! There must be some mistake if Kizen is dropping me! If you would only speak on my behalf……!”
“Ah, as it happens, the reason I came here—”
Bahil’s smile vanished.
“—was to say goodbye.”
“……What?”
Bahil idly brushed the brim of his top hat.
“You were a reasonably capable student. Under an ordinary curriculum—anything but this Integrated Second Semester—you might well have survived quite a while. You might even have made it to your second year.”
“Th-that’s exactly right! I still have—!”
“But, decisively speaking.”
A flat, toneless voice spilled from Bahil’s mouth.
“A necromancer who cannot fight priests has no place at Kizen.”
That single sentence turned Rikon’s face to stone.
“We are fortunate to have filtered you out here. No matter how skilled one may be in ordinary times, a unit whose leader wets himself at the mere sight of Divinity will inevitably become prey for priests in a war. Ahh—truly.”
The corners of Bahil’s mouth curled up like a demon’s.
“By cutting you away, we have saved many lives.”
Thud.
It struck like a curse spoken on the tongue’s edge, cruelly gouging out Rikon’s heart.
As he collapsed in a frantic daze, head hanging low, Bahil gestured to the henchmen. They seized Rikon by the arms and dragged him bodily out of the courtyard.
“…….”
A heavy silence settled over the surroundings.
“Mocking the loser is the victor’s privilege.”
Bahil pressed his top hat down firmly and turned to look at the students who had gathered to jeer.
“But there is nothing more pathetic than laughing at someone out of petty envy, without the skill or standing to justify it.”
The silence grew heavier still, and a few of the students flushed red.
When Bahil turned on his heel and started to walk away, the female teaching assistant, who had been hesitating off to the side, hurried to catch up with him.
“Professor Bahil—”
“You are on disciplinary probation, Assistant Arita.”
She froze.
“Swayed by personal sentiment, failing to manage even this menial task properly—was this something I truly needed to handle myself?”
For a professor to dress down an assistant in front of a crowd of students was a decidedly rare occurrence.
Yet she swallowed hard, as if she had braced herself for this, and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry. Whatever punishment you see fit, I will accept it gratefully—”
“I will be sending a letter to Moiran Public Necromancer School.”
She jerked her head up in surprise.
“Rikon is a rather fine talent. An institution like Moiran would gladly take him. Whether he steadies himself from here, becomes Moiran’s top student, and returns to Kizen as a transfer—or simply falls apart entirely—depends entirely on his own resolve.”
The assistant’s eyes welled up with gratitude. She bowed deeply at the waist.
“Thank you, thank you so much, Professor……!”
Bahil raised a hand in a faint acknowledgment and moved on.
Students streaming toward the Great Auditorium parted to make way, and midway through, Bahil paused for a moment and spoke in a soft voice.
“See you in class.”
Simon startled and looked up. Bahil had already turned away and was striding quickly into the Great Auditorium.
The moment Bahil disappeared, the students’ voices erupted. The topic on everyone’s lips, naturally, was Bahil himself.
“Starting right now—”
Dick smacked his palms together with a look of grim determination.
“—I am majoring in Curse Magic…… oof!”
“Oh, for the love of—use your head, you absolute idiot!”
The two of them turned around to find Meilin and Camibarez already there, having changed into their fresh new uniforms.
“When did you get here?”
“Just now—we heard all the commotion.”
Camibarez replied with a smile. Dick jabbed Simon’s elbow, his face alight with excitement.
“Hey! Hey! But did you see that? You heard it too, right? Professor Bahil told me to see him in class! Isn’t that basically him lining me up to be his direct disciple?!”
Simon turned his head away, refusing to dignify it with a response, and Meilin sighed. Camibarez, apparently taking him entirely at his word, kept chirping, “Really? Really and truly?”
“Alright, students! Please make your way into the Great Auditorium!”
The henchmen came out and called out to the crowd.
“The opening ceremony is about to begin!”
Simon entered the vast, imposing Great Auditorium with the pleasant thrill of a fresh start humming in his chest.
Coming here brings back the entrance ceremony.
Even now it made him dizzy to think about—sitting there, knowing nothing, only to be called up as Special Admission No. 1, Simon Polentia, and swear the representative oath in front of everyone. His heart still pounded at the memory.
“Alright! Everyone, take your seats now!”
“The ceremony will begin shortly!”
Henchmen bustled about, herding the chattering students into their seats.
Then, a short while later, the curtain behind the auditorium’s podium drew back, and a man emerged with an unhurried, shuffling gait.
“Quiet down.”
The students who had been craning their necks to see who it was promptly let out a massive collective gasp.
Haggard eyes framed by deep dark circles, a deadpan expression utterly devoid of motivation, and a shaggy mess of hair bordering on bedhead. A deep smile spread across Simon’s own lips at the sight of him.
It’s been so long, Professor Aaron!
Perhaps because this was an official occasion, he had traded his usual slovenly attire for a sharply pressed suit. The girls in the front rows screamed with delight at this rare sighting of Aaron in a well-fitted suit.
“Do you not know the meaning of the word quiet?”
At that one sentence, a suffocating silence instantly fell over the Great Auditorium.
While the students sat rigid with their hands folded stiffly in their laps, eyes darting nervously, Aaron shuffled up to the very front of the podium and stopped. A henchman set up a stand microphone fitted with an amplification crystal and stepped away.
“Ah. Hmm.”
Aaron adjusted the crystal’s volume and opened his mouth.
“First—congratulations on passing the opening exam. I’m glad we get to spend the new semester together, safe and sound.”
The students, who had been watching nervously, stole a few cautious claps. Seeing this, Aaron’s deadpan face cracked into the faintest smile at the corners.
“That didn’t sound very happy, did it?”
WHOOOOAAA!!!
An explosive roar of cheers poured down as if they’d only been waiting for the cue, leaving his ears ringing.
Simon and Meilin clapped their hands over their ears. Students shook their loosened neckties overhead; Camibarez clapped her heart out; and Dick had climbed onto his chair to whistle.
“Good. I have no intention of starting the Integrated Second Semester in such a stiff atmosphere either. You are the winners. Brief as the moment may be, I’ll let you savor what it feels like to be a victor.”
Simon, listening quietly, let out an ambiguous little laugh. The word brief somehow struck his ear as ominous.
“Now, I’ll explain the exam you’ve just taken. I imagine there are still some of you feeling bewildered.”
At his gesture, an enormous mana screen rose into the air.
“This is the single most important program running through the entire Integrated Second Semester. Its official name is the Comprehensive Dark Magic Aptitude Evaluation. We also call it the BMAT.”
Ahem. Aaron cleared his throat and continued his explanation.
“It is the most important exam of all, replacing the old first-semester finals and second-semester midterms. The written portion will be assessed entirely through the final exam at the end of the second semester. The frequency of Duel Evaluations will also be reduced compared to the first year.”
The students murmured among themselves as they took this in. Meilin sighed, her expression conflicted.
“I figured as much, but in the end the written exams are getting thrown out.”
Written exams had been Meilin’s single greatest strength. She had shone with a 2nd-place ranking among the entire student body on the midterms alone—so this was a bitter pill for her to swallow.
Camibarez said soothingly,
“But you still made the Top 10 in this opening exam! You’ll do plenty well on the practical tests too.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Cami.”
Meanwhile, Aaron’s explanation marched on.
“The Comprehensive Dark Magic Aptitude Evaluation—BMAT for short—consists of five separate examinations in total.”
A new screen appeared, casting footage of deserts, snowy mountains, grasslands, and more. The students leapt from their seats in a scramble to figure out what the next test might involve.
“These videos are mere samples, so don’t get too worked up over them. To get to the point: you will each be thrown into five different battlefields, where you will be tested on your versatility as necromancer agents across a wide range of dark magic applications.”
On screen, students flying through the clouds with every manner of dark magic were slamming into obstacles and plummeting down in what looked like extraordinary agony. Simon counted himself blessed that that particular course was only a sample.
“Each exam has its own theme, and the evaluation criteria change accordingly. Rankings will be assigned to every single student, from 1st place all the way down to a final 898th. The bottom fifty are expelled on the spot. Go home.”
The students gulped, one after another.
Five exams in total meant that the BMAT alone would definitively cut 250 students. Add to that the lowest squads from Duel Evaluations, plus failing grades on finals—the picture was horrifying.
“And the opening exam you just completed counts as one of these five. Needless to say, this one’s themes were Divinity countermeasures, mental fortitude, and overcoming trauma.”
Simon nodded. If this counted as one of the five, then four exams remained in the Integrated Second Semester.
“Let me say this in advance: the exams are difficult.”
Aaron’s voice turned heavy.
“It’s not just about the fifty. Anyone who falls below standard is eliminated, period. I have watched 120 students get wiped out in one go. Placing first matters, but above all else—make survival your absolute top priority.”
“Understood!”
The students answered with tense voices.
“Also, the exam themes can lean rather extreme. A student who takes 1st place in one exam may well land in the bottom tier of another. One piece of advice: don’t bury yourself in a single strength. Raise a broad range of skills and lift your overall level as an elite necromancer. But if you insist on betting everything on one skill anyway, then hone that one technique’s versatility until it can carry you through any situation.”
Just then, a hand shot up from the front row.
Aaron kept explaining, pretending not to notice, but the persistently waving hand must have gotten under his skin, because he finally furrowed his brow and looked at her.
“What is it, Jamie Victoria.”
By now, among the professors teaching Class A, no one was unfamiliar with the name of Jamie, the grande dame of questions.
She sprang to her feet and asked in a loud voice, pitched to carry to every student in the hall.
“Jamie Victoria of Class A! Then I’d like to know—when will the themes of the exams be announced?”
“They won’t.”
Jamie froze, her arm still raised. The other students panicked and began to murmur.
“You must uncover each exam’s theme yourselves. Lecture content, the subjects of performance assessments, the flow of supplies, rumors among the locals, legends and folklore—we will provide hints through all manner of channels. There may even be hints tucked into the offhand jokes professors make, so stay sharp about everything.”
While the students gaped in open disbelief, Dick wore an expression one step away from screaming with joy.
“Insane! Whoa! This whole thing was an information war? That means this semester is guaranteed to be an absolute blast, right? Hehehehe! This is gonna be legendary, for real!”
Simon quietly massaged Dick’s shoulder. They needed to survive at Kizen.
“That said.”
Aaron’s mouth opened again.
“The place will be crawling with slander and half-baked rumors aimed at eliminating your competitors. Take the rumors with a grain of salt—the most important thing, I’ll tell you now, is raising your own abilities.”
Simon somehow felt as though Aaron were saying this while looking straight at Dick. Dick seemed to catch the same vibe, sweating profusely as he laughed awkwardly.
“This was an important briefing, so it ran a bit long.”
The broadcast-team henchman standing at the foot of the podium was waving his hands back and forth, gesturing for him to wrap it up.
“That concludes the briefing on the new examinations. Now, we will begin the ceremony proper.”
Having finished explaining the new exams, Aaron stepped aside and became the opening ceremony’s master of ceremonies.
Simon had wondered if such formal events might not be Aaron’s strong suit, and was surprised to find him handling it better than expected.
The national anthems of the four kingdoms and the academy song were rushed through or skipped entirely.
Speeches from the delegates dispatched by each kingdom.
Announcements from the facilities manager.
Safety briefings from the head of the watchmen—the program rolled steadily onward.
“Next is the student representative oath. The male and female students I call will come forward.”
Aaron raised the paper in his hand.
“Ordinarily we would reflect first-semester final grades, but given the somewhat unusual circumstances, we will proceed as we did at the entrance ceremony. Special Admission No. 1, Simon Polentia. Special Admission No. 2, Serne Aindark.”
WHOOOAAA!
Simon rose from his seat wearing the expression of a man who had known this was coming. Dick, somehow more worked up than Simon himself, slapped him on the arm, and Camibarez pumped both fists and shouted her encouragement.
“…….”
Meilin, on the other hand, looked thoroughly displeased. Simon shot the two of them a pointed glance, and only then did Dick and Camibarez sheepishly sit back down.
It was obvious she could hardly stomach Serne—her natural opposite and nemesis—being chosen as the female representative.
As Simon climbed up to the podium first and waited, Serne came gliding past the students with the unhurried stride of a queen.
Then she stepped up onto the first stair, stopped, turned to Simon with a bright smile, and extended her right hand.
She was quite clearly demanding an escort.
“……Hey, don’t do that.”
Simon flustered and showed every sign of refusing, but Serne only tilted her head as if she hadn’t heard, waggling her outstretched hand.
While Simon hesitated, the ceremony ground to a halt, and the broadcast henchman finally cleared his throat with a pointed ahem.
Left with no choice, Simon took Serne’s hand and escorted her up onto the podium like a gentleman.
Watching the scene, sparks flew from Meilin’s eyes.
“#$%*&@!!! She’s doing that on purpose so I’ll watch!”
Camibarez desperately grabbed her and held her back.
Meanwhile, a short distance away, another man was kicking over the front seats and raging in a fit of his own.
“Damn it all! If things had proceeded normally, I would be the one up there, not him!”
“Hold it in, Hector!”
Hector’s faction members were clinging to him, holding him back.
Meilin and Hector raged on, but Aaron carried on with the ceremony regardless.
“All students, rise. Join the representatives in taking the oath.”
The sound of nearly nine hundred students rising at once thundered through the hall.
Simon and Serne exchanged a look and gave each other a nod.
One of the henchmen must have used dark magic, for a paper inscribed with the words of the oath floated gently in the air before the two of them.
The two straightened their backs, raised their right hands, and opened their mouths.
“We swear.”
“We swear.”
From behind them came the echo of 896 students shouting in perfect unison: “We swear!”
Drawing a light breath, Simon opened his mouth.