The Second-in-Command Descends

The recruitment targets for tomorrow's group class, from first to tenth priority, had been settled.

First priority: Jamie Victoria.

A curse-track student with excellent grades. Her outgoing, proactive personality was a bonus.

Second priority: Claudia Menzies.

A talent majoring in Hemomancy with a Toxicology sub-focus — exactly the combination Rick had called ideal. If they could recruit her, the entire first semester would get a whole lot easier.

Beyond that, they had built out the list all the way to tenth priority.

"Even if we fail to land Jamie or Claudia, don't waste time mourning — move on to the next kids on the list, fast. Oh! And when we're recruiting, we'll be aggressively playing up the fact that you're Special Admission No. 1. That's fine with you, right?"

"Yeah. No problem."

Only after the two of them had hammered out a dense, meticulous plan did they finally climb into bed.

Simon felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. What other team could possibly have prepared a strategy this hard? Inwardly, he found himself looking forward to tomorrow's class.

The next morning, a new week at Kizen began.

When Simon stepped into the Basic Dark Magic lecture hall for first period, it was a completely different scene from the silence of the week before. Everyone knew at least a few faces now, and the room buzzed with overlapping conversation.

Simon took his seat quietly and was pulling out his textbook when Rick dropped a hand on his shoulder.

"Just got back from talking with Jamie! We're pretty well acquainted now."

Simon gave him an impressed look. "You are honestly so good at this stuff."

"Heh heh. Connections are essential in the merchant trade. This was always my job."

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the lecture hall. Students traded glances and scrambled into their seats.

The moment had finally come — they would learn who was in charge of Class A.

"Please, let it be Bahil!"

Rick muttered under his breath. Simon, too, secretly hoped that Aaron of the Summoning Department might take Class A. Beyond him, Hong-Peng of Magic Combat would have been welcome, and Eric of Jet-Black Mechanics seemed the type to teach dark magic with warmth and patience.

And then the door opened.

"Ah......!"

Every mouth in the room fell open.

"N-no way. This is a joke, right?"

Rick's pupils trembled as if an earthquake had hit them.

The professor cut through the silence and strode to the podium. A severely restrained bob haircut. An impression so cold and crisp it seemed ready to snap. And eyes of violet that radiated pure charisma.

Bearer of the title of Acting Principal of Kizen — and Vice Principal.

"My name is Jane Olivia."

She was the second most powerful person in all of Kizen.

"Though I hold the title of Vice Principal, you may simply address me as Professor during class."

Nephthys's closest confidante — the de ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠facto ruler who wielded Kizen's full authority in her stead. Among all the professors Simon had seen so far, she stood at the very peak.

"......Why is that person teaching a first-year class?"

Rick whispered, his voice strangled. He had a point. It was rare for the Acting Principal herself to teach students directly, and when she did, it was almost always third-year classes.

"Well now. Life has a way of throwing you the unexpected, doesn't it, Rick Hayward?"

Rick jolted upright like a man who'd just watched a horror film, spine rigid as a board.

How — how does she know my name?!

The back of Rick's neck went slick with cold sweat. Jane turned her gaze across the students.

"For one semester, I will be in charge of first-year Class A's Basic Dark Magic. As Rick Hayward here pointed out, until now I have only taught third years......"

Her eyes narrowed.

"I expect you all to work hard — so that the gap in level does not feel too crushing."

The sound of nervous swallowing rippled through the room.

Getting to take a class taught by the Vice Principal of Kizen was, in truth, an enormous stroke of luck. But the rumors surrounding her made it impossible for the students to simply be glad about it.

Jane was the personification of the slang that circulated among Kizen students: Kizen-like. The moment a student showed no promise, or an attitude she didn't care for, she would expel them without a second thought.

She was so ruthless that even the third-years — Kizen's pampered, cherished upper tier — had failed to escape her blade of expulsion. It was little wonder Class A was already sinking into dread.

"Then let us begin class."

Jane's voice broke the silence once more.

"As you all know, Basic Dark Magic oversees eight subjects and supplements the fundamentals of a necromancer that those eight subjects alone cannot teach."

At her signal, the TAs ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠began distributing thick stacks of paper to the students.

"But before that — you'll need to know for yourselves exactly where you stand in each of those eight subjects, won't you?"

Simon's and Rick's shoulders both shuddered.

A full-spectrum test on the very first day of class! This was completely unforeseen.

"You will have twenty-two minutes per subject. You'll take the first four subjects, have a four-minute break, then continue straight through the remaining four. If anyone is caught cheating, I will remember the name — and when the Student Protection Period ends, I will see to their expulsion personally."

There wasn't even a moment to breathe.

Having swiftly backed the students into a corner of pressure, Jane folded her arms and declared:

"Begin."

It was Simon's first school exam since coming to Kizen.

And at the same time, it would rank among the most grueling, most agonizing three hours of his entire life.

Not physically hard, mind you — mentally torturous.

......I can't solve this at all.

The letters were black, the paper was white — and beyond that, the words might as well have been in a foreign tongue. It was written in Continental, sure, but not a shred of it made sense to him.

It was infuriating. These were questions meant to be solved, and while every other student's quill was flying, Simon alone had to sit there staring blankly at the page. A kind of helplessness he'd never known before took hold of him.

He'd gotten a little full of himself lately. Things had been going well, he'd inherited his father's undead legion — he'd arrogantly assumed he could settle into Kizen without breaking a sweat.

Right. This is reality.

He hadn't done any preparatory study, which meant he would have to work that much more frantically than everyone else to catch up.

Faced with problem after problem ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he couldn't even begin to touch, Simon's stubbornness curdled into pure spite. He would claw his way through this.

And so the three hours, long as an eternity, crawled by.

"Uuuugh."

"That was brutal."

When the exams finally ended, no one else's expression was any better.

Rick twisted around to hand his test paper to the student behind him. "How'd it go, Simon?"

Simon gave a bitter smile. "......I really, really need to study."

"Couldn't agree more."

Jane, having collected every last paper, addressed the students. "Good work on your exams, everyone. Enjoy your lunch — I'll see you in two hours."

"Thank you for the lesson!"

No matter how crushed their spirits were, the word lunch had always worked miracles on the body, and today was no different. The students of Class A drained out of the lecture hall like the tide going out.

"Let's begin."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Jane's and the TAs' real work started now. They divided the test papers among themselves and settled into their seats to grade.

By far the fastest of them all was, of course, Jane. Her hands moved faster than the naked eye could follow, utterly relentless — quill sweeping top to bottom, page flipped, on to the next.

......

Then, at some point, a girl's face appeared beside Jane's desk. Both cheeks pressed against the edge of the desk, enormous blue eyes blinking up at her.

"......You must be busy. Why have you come here, Lady Nephthys?"

To Jane's ice-cold question, the girl answered with pure, innocent cheer. "To play!"

......

Jane ignored her and resumed grading. A mischievous Nephthys clung to the desk, swinging her legs and prodding at her without mercy — until Jane, patience finally snapping, brought the flat of her hand down on top of Nephthys's head.

"Ow!"

"Don't interrupt my work."

"Waaah! Jane, you always hit only me!"

Clutching her head, she burst into tears and bolted to the nearest TA, seizing the hem of his coat. The sudden appearance of Kizen's supreme ruler turned the TA's face bone-white.

Jane let out a sigh. "Stop bullying my poor staff and come over here."

"No! No! You'll just hit me again!"

"Hurry up."

At Jane's frosty tone, Nephthys stuck out her lips in a pout and shuffled over.

"Everyone else — move to the empty lecture hall next door and finish your grading there."

"Yes, Professor!"

As if they'd been waiting for exactly those words, the TAs grabbed their test papers and fled the room in a stampede.

Nephthys puffed out her cheeks, eyes flashing. "Jane! You've been so cold to me lately!"

"I am exactly as I have always been."

"Hmph. You've really changed! You used to be such a pure child — you'd cling to my hand with those frightened little eyes, trembling like a leaf, when I scooped you out of the slums!"

"That pure child was driven twenty-four hours a day by overwork and job stress, and became this."

Jane declared flatly, then pushed half the stack of test papers toward Nephthys. The girl blinked.

"Hm? What's this?"

"What does it look like? Since you're here, stop bothering people and help ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grade."

......

The situation finally dawning on her, Nephthys grinned a "hehe" and started backing away — then turned to bolt. But Jane moved faster still, catching her and locking her in a headlock at her waist.

"Nooo! Let go! I don't wanna work!"

Jane dealt one more strike to the struggling Nephthys's crown, tamed her, sat her down properly in a chair, and handed her test papers and a quill.

"Jane, you do realize this is child abuse and a violation of labor law?"

"Who exactly is the wretched child here? Less talk, more grading."

"......Yes, ma'am."

For a while, the only sound was quills scratching against paper. Jane, having polished off five test papers in one sitting, stole a sidelong glance at Nephthys.

The girl, sulking with her cheeks puffed out to their fullest, was grading her papers — and writing the word dummy above the questions students had gotten wrong.

"What do you think you're doing? Stop fooling around."

Another merciless strike to the crown followed. Nephthys cradled the wounded spot with both hands, voice wobbling with tears.

"But he is a dummy! A total dummy! He got the Toxicology No. 2 compound question right, and then missed the comparison question right below it!"

"Hmm."

Jane examined the paper and gave a small laugh. "He solved No. 2 with the formula, and No. 3 on pure gut instinct without engaging his brain at all. A classic student mistake."

"A dummy's a dummy! What's this kid's name?"

Nephthys flipped the test paper over to check the front page.

"Hm?"

The name was covered.

"It's a blind evaluation. Grading with names visible could introduce bias, you see."

"......It's just a test. Do you really have to go this far? Thorough as ever."

"Merely a test or not, there are plenty of fascinating specimens."

Jane pulled one graded paper from the finished pile.

"And this one is the opposite case from what you were grading."

"What is it?"

"Questions one through fifteen — the fundamentals, the ones you're supposed to score on — are nearly all wrong. However."

She flipped the paper over.

"He attempted No. 20. The hardest problem on the exam."

Question 20, on the very last page. The paper was packed so densely with equations that the entire sheet seemed to swim.

"What is all this?"

"Ancient Rune Script from Jet-Black Mechanics. Instance Skeleton formulas from Summoning. Exhaust calculation methods from Curse Studies."

"......Don't tell me?"

Jane smiled faintly and nodded. "Yes. This student has done no preparatory study. He reasoned out the answer purely and meticulously by combining what he learned in last week's lectures alone."

Nephthys read down through the paper. "Wait — this is a Jet-Black volume calculation, but he used a summoning-track formula? He assumed resistance scales proportionally to Jet-Black loss rate and solved it that way."

"Yes."

"So did he get it right?"

Jane shook her head. "Using the Theron Formula, the answer comes out to exactly 1,200,000."

"Then what did this student write?"

"1,200,146."

Jane's expression turned frighteningly serious.

"It is not the answer the question intended. But it came closer to the true answer than the intended one did."

Nephthys stole a glance at the test paper. She could see that Jane — strict, implacable Jane — had marked question 20 as correct.

"Lady Nephthys. I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Why did you assign me to a first-year class? And to that class of all classes —"

She tore the blindfold of white paper from the name at the top.

"— the Class A where this boy is enrolled."

Nephthys propped her chin in her hands and beamed. "Hehe, I have no idea what you're talking about?"

Jane sighed inwardly.

......Honestly. A three-hundred-year-old fox if there ever was one.