A Brawl on the Beach
“You okay, Meilin?”
“Yep!”
Meilin nodded quickly, and the flush blooming across both her cheeks made Raheim's mood sour.
“And who are you supposed to be?”
Simon lowered his stance.
“One of Meilin's groupmates. I've been watching the whole time, and she clearly doesn't want you around.”
“Doesn't want me? Meilin does?”
Raheim pushed up the brim of his white cap and let out a booming laugh, his dark bronze frame shaking with every guffaw.
“If we're groupmates, doesn't that mean we spent the whole first semester together? Meilin and I go back ten years—”
“I HATE you!!”
Meilin shrieked from behind Simon's back.
“I hate how you smugly grin and keep creeping around me, so quit clinging like a damn leech! God!”
“…….”
This time the blow seemed to land. Raheim's mouth snapped into a flat line.
“You heard her?”
Simon opened his subspace and stuffed away everything he'd been holding. This whole thing had erupted while he was in the middle of relocating their sunshade.
“I'd appreciate it if you left now.”
“Ironically enough,”
the corner of Raheim's mouth curled up,
“now I want you even more.”
Raheim believed that some switch inside him had flipped the moment he first met Meilin as a child.
He became obsessive. Greedy.
Anything he wanted, he had to have—all of it, down to the last item—and he pursued that goal with relentless stubbornness.
Not once had there ever been an exception.
Not even for the heir's seat of the brother he'd coveted so desperately.
And even—
'Father's seat as Castellan.'
Watching Jet-Black churn through the man's body with violent intensity, Simon let out a sigh.
'This guy is emotionally twisted into a full braid.'
It was bad enough that Simon wondered if obsession might actually be a occupational hazard of the profession.
[KUAHAHAHA! Necromancers ARE a profession that comes with insanity bundled in, but that right there is just plain human ugliness!]
Pier's voice rang out.
'……Uh, no, not all humans are like that, sir.'
In the next instant, Simon's eyes turned serious as he caught the fluctuation in the man's Jet-Black. Eight magic circles unfolded across Raheim's body, and with a burst of white foam, strange projectiles began to streak toward them.
“Meilin!”
This was no joke. Simon spun around, scooped Meilin up, tucked her against his hip, and bolted.
“HEY!!!”
Her face scarlet, Meilin squawked and screeched at him to put her down, but Simon had no spare attention for anything with projectiles raining down on them.
'Two from above. Two from directly behind.'
Simon's pupils darted busily, tracking the trajectory of every projectile hurtling down from the sky, then launched himself. When the shots slammed into the sandy beach and detonated, white snow burst outward in plumes.
'Weird dark magic.'
With movements like a man skipping and hopping across hot coals, Simon evaded everything. He even—
Thwack!
—kicked away one incoming projectile with a roundhouse. Raheim cocked his head to the side, and his own missile flew off course, striking a parasol behind him and exploding.
“Huh. What do you know. You're actually decent.”
He crouched again and fired off magic circles one after another. Watching formulas assemble at terrifying speed, Simon pressed his lips into a hard line.
'A caster type specialized in multi-casting.'
Every nerve in his body went taut as Simon optimized himself, body and mind, for combat. And then—pat pat!—he heard someone slapping his back.
“Put me down, you lunatic!! I'm fighting on my own two feet!”
Her face gone past red and into full combustion, Meilin flailed her legs and screamed bloody murder.
“Sorry, just bear with—”
Simon couldn't even finish the sentence before diving again. More projectiles came raining down, erupting into white explosions.
'This is mortifying. What am I even doing?'
She was clinging to his side like a sack of rice, and there was nothing he could do about it—the girl was simply absurdly strong. Hanging off Simon's flank, Meilin belatedly felt a strange wave of déjà vu.
'Wait a second. Being swung around exactly like this, somewhere before…….'
Her brain spun with agile precision, dredging up the memory. When had that been?
'!'
The instant her memory reached toward Deathland, Raheim suddenly appeared behind Simon's back.
“Simon! Dodge!”
Shaaaaaak!
But the charging Raheim recoiled with a horrified jerk, wrenching his torso back. At some point, Overlord's blade had shot up from beneath Simon's feet and thrust itself out.
“Shame. So close.”
At Simon's chilling smile, Raheim's expression froze solid.
“You little—”
“FIGHT! THERE'S A FIGHT!”
“Who? Who's fighting?”
Students from across the beach came swarming like clouds, drawn to the greatest spectator sport in the world: other people's brawls.
'Oh no.'
Way too many people had gathered. Deciding that a counterattack was off the table and escape was priority one, Simon shifted Meilin properly into both arms.
'!'
Suddenly scooped into a princess carry, Meilin's heart hammered like a mad thing. She was so embarrassed she could hardly function.
'AAAAH! Seriously!! There are people EVERYWHERE, what are you doing—!'
“I'll hold them off.”
Just as Simon raised Jet-Black at both feet to flee—
Peep! Preeeet!
—the sudden shriek of whistles froze all three of their faces.
“What do you think you're doing on Roc Island?!”
“HALT!”
The Watchers.
Normally they managed the forests and mountains around Kizen, but they also doubled as safety wardens whenever students crowded into a specific area like this.
Getting caught by them meant demerits at minimum—and if things were serious enough, a report went straight to the ears of the professors in charge.
Raheim, too, seemed to know this was no time for a fight, and straightened up at once.
“That was fun. Simon, was it?”
Raheim cracked his fists together with a bang.
“At the next BMAT, I'm coming for you and you alone. Let's settle it properly then!”
Simon made a dumbfounded face.
“Settle what, exactly?”
“Isn't it obvious! The winner gets Meilin!”
Meilin, still cradled in Simon's arms, screeched.
“You insane bastards! Who gave you two the right to wager ME like a prize!!”
“See you around, Meilin.”
Raheim waved, activated a magic circle beneath his feet, and his body rocketed skyward, vanishing into high-altitude flight.
'What on earth kind of dark magic is that?'
Pat! Pat!
“Hey! Get me DOWN already!”
Meilin was hammering Simon's shoulder and yelling.
Only then realizing how tightly her swimsuit-clad body was pressed against him, Simon set her down with a flustered look.
“There they are!”
“Catch them!”
Meanwhile, the Watchers were preparing capture spells aimed at the two. Simon readied a defensive spell and shouted.
“I'll block it! You use that opening to—”
“Hey, Simon.”
Meilin suddenly grabbed him by the back of the collar.
“Revenge for earlier.”
And with that, she raised Jet-Black at her feet and launched skyward.
'WHOA—!'
The ground plummeted away as her view shot into the air, and Simon felt his blood run cold.
Her airborne feet quickly made contact with prepared ice.
<Ice Road>
Skrrrrrrrrrrrr!
A road of ice unfurled in a straight line and hurtled the two of them forward at blistering speed. In the blink of an eye they crossed the sandy beach and shot out over the open sea.
The Watchers, who had sprinted after them in a mad scramble, skidded to a halt at the water's edge with looks of pure vertigo.
“That's us in the clear, right?”
Meilin smirked and let go of Simon's collar.
Somehow his legs had gone completely weak, and Simon sank down onto the ice with a hollow laugh.
Just as the two of them were speeding across the sea—
“Over here! Over here!”
Simon's eyes went wide.
Somehow Dick had already climbed aboard a boat in the middle of the beach, waving his hand with a delighted cackle. Camibarez sat beside him.
“I'll dock us over there.”
Meilin spread her arms like wings and swept one of them in a wide arc, and the ice road curved like a bend in a racetrack, carrying them along. The ice stopped neatly in front of the boat, and the two climbed aboard.
“There you are!”
Dick thrust out his palm, and Simon grinned and slapped him a high-five.
“Well prepared.”
“This much is just basic!”
Dick went for a high-five with Meilin next—only to get grabbed by the hair and smacked across the back instead.
“You think I'd forgive you for ruining my drawing?!”
“OW! I said I'm sorry! It's not like I did it on pur—ow! OW!”
Simon and Camibarez burst out laughing. Dick, contorting his whole face in an expression of agony, turned his head.
“Yeesh. Someone's *really* mad over there.”
The Watchers were firing net-shells woven from Jet-Black straight at the boat.
The sky vanished under a spreading net, and Camibarez flailed her arms in a panic.
“W-we're going to get caught!”
“Leave it to me.”
Dick handled the mana engine mounted on the boat with practiced ease. He flipped a few levers, and with a vrrrooom! the boat began to shudder.
“Hold on tight!”
“Wh-where am I supposed to grab?!” Meilin yelped.
“ANYWHERE!”
The instant all three seized the hull, the mana engine roared to life, the bow kicked up, and the boat launched forward.
“WHOA—!”
“KYAAAAAA!”
All three screamed in shock. The Watchers' nets splashed harmlessly into empty water as the boat sliced cleanly across the surface.
“KIYAAAAAHOOOO!”
The Watchers, now reduced to dogs chasing a chicken, wore hollow expressions, and Dick propped a leg up on the mana engine and hollered at the top of his lungs.
“We're off! HAHAHA!”
Meilin groaned.
“Hey! Too faaaast!”
“I-I'm going to fly off!”
Meilin shrieked at him to slow down while Camibarez's lower half bounced perilously with every wave. Seeing this, Simon quickly changed position, stretching his arms out to encircle both girls' shoulders and brace himself against the boat to hold them steady.
“Kahaha! Of course he takes the cool role for himself.”
Dick chuckled merrily and turned the boat's heading. Simon looked up.
“So where are we going, exactly?”
“Somewhere a little quieter!”
The place they reached by boat was a tiny uninhabited island.
Small as it was, the currents were gentle and the spot was quiet—perfect for four people looking to have some fun.
The four of them spent a wonderful stretch of time there. Simon taught Camibarez to swim, and she quickly took to the water like a natural. Meilin threw herself into fine-tuning her breathing magic circles, and even Dick managed to remodel that bizarre pair of flippers into something actually usable.
When evening came, they set up a bonfire and enjoyed a simple barbecue party.
“Ahhhh, this is the life.”
Red-faced from drink, Dick flopped down onto the spot where he sat. Simon was diligently grilling meat while Meilin and Camibarez chattered away.
“By the way, who was that guy who came at you, Meilin?”
“Ugh, some perverted creep! I don't know either!”
Simon set the finished meat on a plate and looked at her.
“Still, he seemed to know you, didn't he?”
“That's just a line! You know—'Haven't we met somewhere before?' That kind of garbage. God, it gives me the creeps just thinking about it.”
Dick slid a glance her way.
“You don't know him? It's that guy. That guy.”
“What are you even saying, you idiot? Sit up straight and talk.”
“Well, he's…… who was it…… Oh! Right! Raheim Northfold, Special Admission No. 8. The Castellan of Snowfield Castle!”
Camibarez's eyes went wide.
“Wh-whoa, he's a seriously big deal!”
“Snowfield Castle? Hmmm.”
Meilin crossed her arms.
“That region has huge deposits of magic stones, so technically they're on the Ivory Tower's side of the fence. I visited a few times as a kid, but……”
“Could he be someone you met back then?”
At Simon's question, Meilin scrunched up her face.
“No way, I was a tot hanging onto my mom's hand. I barely remember anything! Especially during my heir days I caused so much trouble that……”
“So you were a little hellion as a child, Meilin!”
“Just embarrassing history from my bratty years, that's all.”
Meilin sighed.
“And if he's acting like this over someone he briefly met as a kid—seriously. He kept bringing up the heir's seat to needle me nonstop, and then at some point what? Now he says he's going to flex Ivory Tower connections and personally put in a good word for my succession. How am I supposed to NOT blow up at that?”
The three listeners exchanged pained expressions.
Meilin reacted to Serne and the Ivory Tower succession with extreme sensitivity. Saying such things in front of her was practically the same as saying 'please just kill me now.'
“Ugh, it makes my blood boil! Next time I see him, I'm going to launch his jaw into orbit with one—”
Meilin stopped mid-sentence and shut her mouth. Then she shot Simon a sidelong glance.
“?”
Simon just smiled, as if wondering what the matter was.
Meilin sighed.
“……I guess I'll have to go see him after all.”
Camibarez jumped in to stop her, startled.
“Wh-why? He's a strange person! It could be dangerous to go meet him for no reason!”
“I don't want to either, but that creep said he's targeting Simon during the exam. I can't just let him get hurt for nothing, so I'll at least have a word with—”
“I'm fine with it.”
Simon answered with an easy expression.
“If the rule is that students fight among themselves, anything goes. And you said No. 8, right? Honestly, I'd like to test myself against him.”
Oooooh~
Dick let out a whistle, and Camibarez stifled a squeal.
“Easy for you to say when you're No. 1, huh? Heh heh! That's elite confidence for you!”
“The poise of a true strong one!”
“No, no, that's not what I—”
While the two of them gleefully teased Simon, only Meilin watched him with a face gone subtly pink. When their eyes met, she whipped her head away and cleared her throat.
“Y-you'd better mean it when you say you're fine.”
“I do. There's no reason for you to bow and scrape to that guy on my account.”
Dick let out a hearty ahem~ and raised his cup. Every now and then, this idiot was genuinely cool even by another guy's standards.
“Great vibes all around! Let's all survive the next BMAT and party together agaaain!”
Clink!
The four of them knocked their cups together with all their might and cheered.